I Buried Her On A Sunday

It wasn't even two weeks into the school year. The year that they should have been attending. I spent four months looking for them. Searching relentlessly. I couldn't give up. I know they chose to leave, but that didn't mean that I could ever give up on them, and as I stared down at Boyd and Cora in the vault, I knew I couldn't give up. But She, She wasn't there.

She was gone.

I watched their backs as they fled from the room. More innocent people were going to die. But that couldn't move me. I had to find Her. I lifted he listless body and watched as her arm dangled. There she was, still clad in her leather jacket and boots that she insisted on wearing once she got the bite. To be apart of something. Her usually beautiful and carefully styled blond tresses were matted and bloodied. I pushed them from her face for the last time and my eyes filled with tears. Everything about her has a dull greyish tint, like it was when I found her. She was broken and destroyed and dead when I met her. She was murdered by the senseless mass of students who laughed at her, who refused to be her friend, who cast her aside. There are unhealed wounds covering her body, but it doesn't make me angry like it should, it makes me sad. I promised Erica that things would be better. I promised her that her pain would end, her body would no longer betray her. When the hits became so damaging that her body refused to heal. It betrayed her, I betrayed her.

I had watched her try to be like me, tough and coldblooded; but underneath she was this girl who wanted attention and love, things that I couldn't, didn't know how to, give. I remember her hugging me after her seizure from the Wolfsbane. She snuggled to my side and cried on my shoulder, but she never said anything. Her arms wrapped around me like I was her anchor. When really she, and all of my betas, were what kept me going.

I buried her on a Sunday. I buried her on the preserve, with the rest of my family. I stared down at her makeshift grave. There was a boulder serving for her tombstone with a Triskele that I carved into the side. This was it. This was all I had left to give her. I promised her so much, but I could only give her this boulder. I sat on my knees staring at the little marker. She shouldn't be down there. It should be me. Instead I knelt at this makeshift grave saying my final goodbyes.

As I sat there I could feel a presence at my right side, of course I smelled him before he got there. He didn't say anything, he just sat the flowers down in front of the marker. He leaned his shoulder into mine and I all but collapsed into him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and rested his hand on the back of my neck. Isaac walked up next and snuggled between us, leaning his head against my chest. He gripped my thigh tightly. How do you do it? How do you bury someone that you created? How can you move on? I had hoped that Laura would be the last time. I had hoped that I wouldn't have to bury someone else that I loved.

"Catwoman" Stiles whispered quietly.

"Wonder Twin" Isaac laughed out.

"My baby girl." I admitted breathlessly.

Stiles tightened his grip on my neck and Isaac huffed at my neck. You move on. You wake up and carry on with life, because there are others that need you. And somehow you forge a new family through your grief. I buried her on a Sunday, surrounded by love and never alone.