◤ chapter eleven: ❛ engrained
instincts ❜ ◢

✧

        HOME COOKED MEALS HADN'T BEEN A STAPLE IN COOPER'S LIFE SINCE HE WAS A CHILD. When making his elementary school's soccer team had been his largest concern and memorizing his times tables were the normal. His parents used to trade off cooking, simple meals, but warm, made with the love of a parent. But Cooper and Jackson grew older, and their parents started to work more, and there wasn't anyone present to cook dinner.

         Money was left to pick something up, and they learned how to make simple meals, but they weren't the homecooked meals made my a loving parent, but meals made to feed yourself and a sibling. They never tasted the same even if they followed the same recipe as before.

         But then he met Julia. Julia refused to let Cooper go home on an empty stomach, much less after he confessed that he would probably only eat cereal dinner. Her lips turned downwards, head shaking slightly as she pushed Cooper into a seat, muttering to herself. Cooper learned long ago not to argue with her. Besides, Julia Prescott was an incredible cook, and sitting around the dining table with Julia and Penelope make the picture look like a family dinner.

         "I got an A on my chemistry test," Penelope announced. Julia gave her a proud smile, the proper praise. Cooper chewed on his chicken. He can't remember the last time he told his mother the grade he got on a test.

         He can't remember the last time she cared.

         "How's school going for you?" Julia directed the question at him. He took a sip of water.

         "Fine," a shrug, "Same old. Scott and Stiles have been distracting me – always worried about the alpha pack."

         Julia frowned. "Never let anything get in the way of your education. You can talk about your problems after school."

         Cooper didn't disagree. There was no reason to tell Julia that he preferred it, because economics was too boring and math lacking his interest. At least scheming excited his brain. Besides, it was nice to hear someone take an interest in his education.

         His parents didn't comment on it. Sometimes they frowned and told him to work harder, along with a lecture about how working hard was the only way to get anywhere in life and how are you going to be a lawyer like your father if you don't study? Really, he couldn't think of the last time his parents had asked him about anything in his life.

         Julia always asked.

         They asked why Jackson wanted to transfer, but it was short lived curiosity before shrugging and calling Uncle Xavier and seeing if he would be willing to support Jackson while he was in London. They didn't even hug him goodbye.

         Cooper did. He held Jackson tight, forced himself not to cry, and gave his brother a last piece of advice before watching him walk away in the airport.

         He helped Penelope wash dishes after dinner. It was their rule; Julia made dinner, so Penelope did the dishes. They protested when he took up the chore himself, stating he was a guest, but he had stayed for dinner multiple nights a week and felt too awkward not to do something. They treated him like family, so he did his duty. Penelope always looked happy to have the help.

         Julia walked him out, closing the front door but taking a seat on the front porch. Cooper took the silent signal to sit in the other. He waited, looking out into the street at the neighboring houses. The Prescotts lived in a wildly different area than him, but he found that he liked it more. Everything felt more lived in, used, less perfect and more practical.

         "Sirens are said to be lone creatures," Julia mused. Cooper let his eyes naturally wander over to her rather than snapping his head. Julia Prescott was not a woman of many words. He used to wonder if it was because he was a stranger, but Penelope chuckled. Mom believes in saying what's necessary, nothing more.

         "We seek companionship, yes," she continued, "But unlike wolves, we don't travel in packs. It's uncommon to know many others, but Beacon Hills always did have a strange...allure for the supernatural."

         "I don't like being alone," Cooper confessed to the stars. He never protested when Julia insisted he come over for dinner, or when Penelope invited him for money nights. He always went to parties, always took a partner to warm his bed.

         "Yes. I've found that I don't either," she shared the admission, "I used to do whatever it took not to be alone, but now I've made my peace with it."

         Then, she turned to him. "Whatever you do with your life, never do it to escape loneliness. If partnering up with Scott to fight the Alpha pack and darach is a true desire of yours, I find it very noble, but if you do it for companionship, abandon it. It will only lead to pain."

         Cooper looked away from her. Towards the houses and the night sky, frowning and refusing to think about her words. He liked Scott, begrudgingly liked Stiles, and Lydia had always been a friend. The company of others was nice, but he had friends before them, and he could have friends outside of them.

         No, he decided, he wasn't doing this to fill a void. He cared for them, and they cared for him, and he didn't think he could turn his back on them now – not while sacrifices were still being made, people were actively being killed, and the supernatural were invading Beacon Hills.

         There was no way for him to turn back. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't go back to who he was before; Cooper Whittemore, the player, the partier, the mystery. He was Cooper Whittemore the siren, and his brother was a wolf, and his friends were starting to be more supernatural than human. This was intertwined with his life, and he couldn't walk away even if he tried.

         "I'm not," Cooper confirmed, meeting her eyes, "I want to help. Beacon Hills is my home, and people are dying. And I should use my abilities for something good, right?"

         Julia's eyes flickered. Pride, perhaps. Then her lips quirked upwards for a moment before she turned to face directly in front of her, away from him. "Then I shall continue to you."

         This was her dismissal. Julia never did say goodbye, going off Penelope's theory, maybe goodbyes just weren't worth it. He didn't say the words either. Standing, he waved to her, getting in his car, and drove him.

         Pulling into his driveway, he frowned at the shadow of a figure on his porch. Getting out of his car, he approached with caution before lightening at the recognition of who it was.

         "Scott?" he called out, watching as the boy slowly looked up, meeting him with eyes of confusion. "You okay?"

         "He's alive," the werewolf whispered. Cooper sat next to him, about to ask for clarification when, "Derek – Derek's alive."

         Cooper sucked in a breath. "He survived. That's – that's a good thing. It's a good thing, Scott."

         Scott nodded, but he still seemed so distant. "I really thought he was dead," Cooper could always laugh; of course he knew that, he was well aware of how dead Scott thought Derek was and the consequences of it, "And I'm really happy he's alive."

         "Because it's a good thing. It's a good thing when people don't die, yeah? That's what we're working towards; keeping everyone alive," Cooper solidified. We, he said. It was a combined effort, a unified front; Julia once warned him to take the backseat, but that wasn't an option. He was engrained in this life, and more than that, Scott wanted his help.

         Scott didn't say anything. Cooper stood up, reaching his hand out. "Come on, we have a guest room."

         That snapped Scott's head up. "Oh no, I can't – I should be going home. I don't know why I came here, I wasn't really thinking after I saw Derek."

         The confession was quiet on Scott's lips. Cooper swallowed, determined not to think of it or comment.

         "You're not thinking clearly, so you shouldn't be...walking, or running – or however you got here – home. We have a guest room, and a guest shower, and towels. I have clothes you can borrow, and I'll drive you to school tomorrow. It's not a big deal."

         Scott looked at his hand. When he took it, Cooper yanked him up, leading him inside and to their guest room down the hall from his own bedroom. He took care of Scott before himself, flopping down onto his bed.

         Scott came here, to Cooper, when he wasn't thinking clearly about Derek. His instincts led him here...he didn't know what to think of it. Turning to his eye, tapping his lamp off, he resolved not to think of it at all, closing his eyes and tuning out the world.

✧

         ONCE UPON A time, death had not been a constant in the life of Cooper Whittemore. Yes, occasionally, he had been to a funeral, or heard of the passing of someone, but death wasn't an event that happened repeatedly in a short time span. But, then again, once upon a time Cooper Whittemore had been human.

         Or, an unawake siren, if he was being precise. Because he was sure that Julia would claim that he had never been human, only unaware of his true origins, living in the same state as Penelope. Cooper knew that Julia was proud of his growing abilities and confidence, but he could tell that she wished his fate didn't befall her daughter.

         Penelope Prescott may not be unaware of the supernatural. Julia never shielded her, but Penelope had not been bitten, so her siren nature stayed asleep, a shadow looming over her. Cooper held the same wish. While being a siren was not something he would walk away from now, he knew that his life wasn't the same. His concerns before had been about his brother, and now his concerns lied with the entire livelihood of Beacon Hills and the supernatural wars being waged.

         Heavy is the head that wears the crown – not that Cooper would ever be caught dead in a crown, he wasn't that narcissistic.

         "Two doctors are dead," Scott informed him.

         "So one more has to die."

         "Healers," Stiles concluded.

         Oh, how he hated this darach.

         "One day of peace," Cooper groaned, "That's all I'm asking for – one day where someone isn't dying, or coming back from the dead, or planning the murder of someone else. I hate this town."

         Scott gave him an awkward pat on the back. "At least we knew who the darach is targeting so we know what type of person to protect."

         "But there's plenty of healers," Cooper shook his head, "All the doctors, nurses...there's too many to protect."

         "We'll try our best."

         Cooper didn't respond. Swiftly bringing his bag from his shoulder to his hand, dropping it onto the ground before sitting at his desk, he stared ahead. "The funeral businesses around here must be booming with business," he murmured.

         "We're going to stop this," Scott confidently told him. He wished his had that same assurance, but he didn't. There was always room for doubt.

         "Good morning!" Miss Blake entered the classroom. Cooper frowned. He was pretty sure he didn't walk into English class, and yet..."As you know, Mr. Harris is still missing – I mean sick. Anyway, I'm filling in while we all hope and pray for a more qualified substitute to take my place. Okay, so let's get started, shall we?"

         Stiles leaned close to them. "Hey, my dad said that the ER attending wasn't strangled but did die from asphyxiation – they just don't know how."

         "I hate that," Cooper muttered to himself.

         "Do you think the on-call doctor could still be alive?" Scott asked, optimistic until the end.

         "I don't know...but Scott, there's got to be at least twenty other doctors in that hospital at least, you know? Any one of them could be next."

         "That's what I was saying," Cooper pointed out, a little giddy that Stiles agreed with him. Ha!

         Scott's phone buzzed. He frowned but answered it. "Hey, Doc. Sorry, I'm in class right now – can I call you back later?" Cooper looked forward, attempting to pay attention to what Miss Blake was saying though his ears were yearning to hear what Deaton was saying. "Doc. Doc, doc, doc – what's happening?"

         He put his phone away. Cooper and Stiles stared at him.

         "We don't have to worry about the other doctors – Deaton's been taken."

         Scott pushed himself up, not paying attention to the spectacle before rushing out of the classroom. Cooper and Stiles traded a look before gathering their bags and following. "This was so not how I planned my day to go," Cooper gritted out, "Scott! Scott, wait up!"

         Stiles got out his phone, and he could vaguely hear the conversation – informing his dad where they were going, what was happening, what he needed to do – but his mind really just focused on how ill-prepared he was to run after a person. God, he really needed to take up track or something.

         He took backseat of Stiles' Jeep when they got there, as he always did. Soon, at least it felt soon, the car stopped and they were at the vet clinic. The sheriff was there waiting, Scott approached him first.

         "How did you know?"

         "Stiles called me as soon as you left the school. I'm sorry," the sheriff apologized, "Your boss' car is still here, and the back door was wide open. Scott...I need you to tell me everything."

         Cooper stayed back with Stiles. Deaton was still alive – he had to at least have some hope for that, especially since the call just occurred – but the clock had started ticking down. Beacon Hills wasn't a large town by any means, but there were still plenty of places to commit a sacrifice.

         Scott gave his statement. The police looked around the building for any clues, but Cooper didn't think it would be a fruitful effort. It never had been before.

         "Alright, we're doing everything we can," the sheriff assured them, "Right now, the best thing you can do is go back to school."

         He gave a pointed look to Stiles before walking away. Cooper imagined what his father would do if the school told him he was skipping. Probably nothing. He never heard a word about it before. From the look, he was sure that Stiles had.

         "We have to tell him," Scott looked at Stiles.

         Stiles scoffed. "You mean, like tell him? Or, tell him something else that isn't telling him what I think you want to tell him?"

         "You know what I mean."

         "You remember how your mom reacted? She didn't look you in the eye for, like, a week!"

         "And she got over it! And – and it actually made us closer," Scott pointed out.

         "I don't know, dude..." Stiles shook his head, "I mean, look at him. Come on, he's completely overwhelmed as it is!"

         "He's overwhelmed because he has no clue what's happening. He's got people dying in his town – the town he's supposed to protect – and it's not his fault that he doesn't know what's happening. He's gonna find out sooner or later."

         "If it makes you feel better, I would never tell my parents," Cooper pipped up, "Could never be worth it."

         Not that there would be a reason to. They didn't notice when he stayed out late, never knew that he spent afternoons at Julia's, or nights fighting bad werewolves. Hell, they hadn't even noticed he left on the lacrosse trip – how would they notice their son was involved in something not-so-normal or human?

         And he couldn't imagine actively wanting to involve them either. They proved long ago that they were fine with the limited contact they had with their sons, and Cooper learned a long time ago to stop convincing them otherwise.

         "It could be – what if not telling him now gets someone else killed?" Scott piggybacked.

         "What if telling him gets him killed, huh?" Stiles shot back, "I mean, okay. Look, I get that Deaton's been like a father to you – I get that, okay? But this is my – Scott, this is my actual father. I can't...I can't lose both of my parents, alright? Not both of them."

         Silence fell.

         Cooper never wondered back Stiles' dead mother before, but now the thought filled his mind. He felt sympathy for the boy.

         "You're right," Scott sighed, looking down.

         Stiles shook his head. "No, I'm not. I'm not right. I'll tell him."

         "I'll help you."

         Footsteps approached them, and Cooper's eyebrows furrowed at the sight of Miss Morrell, the school counselor, approaching them.

         "Okay, listen closely, all of you – no sheriff, deputy, or detective is going to be able to find him."

         "You don't have to ask us for help," Scott said.

         "Actually, I'm trying to help you," Miss Morrell corrected, "Because if you're going to find my brother, then you need to use the one person who might actually have an ability to seek out the supernatural."

         "Your brother...?" it wasn't the important part to fixate on, but Cooper couldn't help himself. He didn't know Deaton had siblings, or Miss Morrell. Well, he didn't know much about either of them, so...okay. Siblings.

         "Lydia."

         His head snapped towards Stiles. "Lydia – she could find Deaton."