♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 seventy-three

you can be the boss.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

WARNING: ADULT AND EXPLICIT CONTENT TOWARDS END OF CHAPTER.

ANTISEPTIC. It was all Dallas could smell as she sat alone in the hospital. Fabric cleaners, artificial fragrances, and soapy cotton buds. Some are a little bitter, others much too sweet.

She clutched her rib cage with a shaky hand as fragility followed her seat on the cushioned mattress. Her defective form struggled to split a stream of blood from one vein to the other. Sleepy eyes blinked through seasons as colours seeped into the wide iris, a white frosty winter and warm brown autumn.

Dallas felt warm hands gather around her arms while the doctor furrowed his eyebrows at her unusually cold pigmentation.

Adolescent eyes glared into his frame, eating up his bare skin like baked gingerbread, and swallowed at the smell of watery red velvet coarse through his veins. Chocolate-dipped freckles frowned over a gumdrop nose and warm oven mitts stroked her cold hands.

"What did you say this was from?"

Dallas felt bakery scents mist away and iodoform spill in the gaps between the air as the man met her eye and formed back into exactly that. Just another ordinary man.

"Uh," She cleared her throat and forced a blink. "Gave too much blood at the drive."

Dallas pretended not to notice his side glances. She'd ignore the small tuts and tsk of his lips. All in all, she tried to focus on anything but his presence - and how much she wanted to inhale all of it at once.

She ran a silver tongue across rows of minty teeth and lingered her eyes on him through the droplets of water that sat on her eyelashes as he spoke.

"And the collarbones?"

A cushioned bed squished beneath Dallie's thighs. Soft cotton rode up against her skirt, along with soft quilted sheets that rubbed warmth on the skin.

She breathed steadily. "Lacrosse is a nasty game."

He hummed. Furrowed tightly-knit eyebrows, then hummed again.

Dallas could do nothing but breathe and feel wet paper towels swipe at her stung collarbones. Hair that fell from behind her ears was quickly tucked away and heavy eyes blinked away the tiredness that lingered above the lid.

She squinted them when a flashlight coaxed her irises.

"You need a blood transfusion." The man paused while glasses hung from the tip of his nose. "Quite a few iron supplements, some stitching, and honestly? A good drink of water would help. I've never seen someone so dehydrated in all my years of medicine."

The words scrambled in her brain. Like someone had poured alphabet spaghetti across the frontal lobe and asked her to form a sentence from it.

"Great, anything else wrong with me that you want to list?"

The scrambling stopped and he met her gaze.

"What's your blood type?"

That was when the silence began. Slithered hands of shame pressed against her lips and prevented another word from spilling. Dallas wasn't human, therefore, did not possess human blood. Every drop spilled was one that had to be replaced by her own blood cells - the blood cells of a Siren.

Her tongue fell dry and she quietly prayed for that drink of water to relieve the pressure forming around her throat.

A voice echoed from the doorway, breaking the long gaps between Dallas and her doctor. "Same as mine."

Sybil clutched a gym bag against her hip bone. Twirling a strand of short hair around one finger and tapping against the pinewood with the other, the elder Siren took a step into the room with a quick raise of her brows. "And my sister, who's currently donating as we speak." She pursed her lips. "May I have the room?"

He parted his lips. "I still need to evaluate-"

"Out."

Dallas didn't notice it then, but a slither of white coated his eyes as he nodded. He abruptly dropped her arm, caring little for the hiss that sprang from her lips, and left without another word. Sybil did that sometimes. Using mind-control as means to get whatever she wanted whenever she wanted without much afterthought.

Dallas always thought it was more admirable to get your own way with a wicked tongue and sheer determination than with power.

She tutted the teenager before her. "Elijah told us what happened."

A silence bestowed upon the two. Ruffles of sighs, the grit of tender teeth, and pitiful swallows slipped through while the Garcia flickered her eyes upward. "Then you know I don't want to talk about it."

Sybil took a seat behind her niece on the mattress before slouching into herself while the gym bag sat atop her thighs. Her hands pulled the hair over Dallie's shoulders before straightening the ends out with her fingers.

"I don't care about your recklessness." The woman paused. "I care that you look, well, like this."

A shudder of familiarity coated her shoulders and slid down her skin, along with the dirtied flannel that Sybil pulled from around her. "I don't get why you wear these things." She paused. "That dress is ruined. So is this flannel."

The teenager turned her head.

"Don't throw it away." She plucked it from her aunt's hands. "I'll fix it."

The Garcia tutted at the distressed fabric. It was her favourite one.

"You're very sentimental." Sybil huffed while plucking the strands of hair into a braid. "It's why I was so surprised when I found out you were gonna be human again."

She paused. "What?"

Sybil furrowed a slanted eyebrow. "The cure." She spoke as if it were obvious. "The one Klaus offered. When James and Marilyn told me you were taking it, I thought they were kidding. I mean, you take the cure? You can't be anything ever again. No bite, scratch or curse will ever turn you. You're just you. For eternity."

Her lower lip got caught up in her teeth as she delved deep in thought. "Do you want a dutch braid or french?"

Sybil jumped back as the slither of braided hair spanned like a whip, as well as the teenager's turned head. "There's a cure?"

"They didn't tell you?" She widened her eyes as the realization settled on stiff shoulders. "Oh god, they didn't tell you."

Dallas stood up quickly, as did her aunt, while the room scrambled around her.

The floor beneath her froze into ice while her brain became locked in a spin, trapping her in a double axel that would never stop.

"Dallas, okay, maybe you should take it." Panic coated the words as she tried to console the teenager with a soft tone. "Not everyone gets an opportunity like that, you know? You could finally live your life as a normal teenager and not worry about eating your own boyfriend every two minutes."

The spinning worsened. Dallas would've felt nauseous if there was enough lingering in her stomach to puke, but an empty pit of nothingness settled beneath the organs instead.

Whether it was the low blood corrupting her ability to comprehend or simply a misunderstanding of the world around her, Dallas couldn't quite seem to wrap her head around it.

She opened her mouth to speak once more but felt her eyes soak up the sight of her parents in the doorway.

James had a busted lip. Rocking bruised cheekbones, a stitched eyebrow slit, and grazed knuckles, he dressed it up in a grey suit that perfectly matched his wide eyes.

Marilyn stood beside him. The same teal scarf wrapped around her curly hair, delicate sunglasses framed her face and plum lipstick swiped across the smile that gleamed white teeth.

Her father stepped forward to squeeze her into a hug.

"You had me so worried." His chin was planted on the top of her head while a murmur escaped his lips. "If you wanted to go looking for the Dread Doctors, you put your trust in your family and we go together, okay?"

When he placed both hands on her shoulders to give her a smile, James didn't expect the soulless glare she spat back. From her furrowed brows to her twisted gaze, the teenager stared at her parents with nothing but distrust and disloyalty.

"You never trusted me." She hissed. "Ever."

He slouched his shoulders as the sharp tone sliced indents in his heart. "What?"

"Did you ever plan on telling me about the cure?" Dallas studied his face for a shred of emotion. "Or did you already know the answer I'd give you?"

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dallas was forced to sit. To take in the severity of her situation without being rash - or so they told her.

Perhaps forced wasn't the right word to use. Dallas could walk out anytime, as there would be little those around her could do to stop her. She was forced into their proximity, maybe. Her bloodstream filled ever so slowly with the drip that hooked onto her right arm.

She didn't care for the comfort of the plush mattress beneath her. Or the fresh clothes bestowed upon her back. She hated the plucky braid that draped over her shoulder as she stared up at them. She hated how they treated her like something precious - but lied to her face like she wasn't.

"I am acting in your best interest, Dallas, I always have," James murmured breathlessly. He sat beside the hospital bed, desperately clutching at her hand and wearing another slanted frown.

It wasn't tears that made Dallie's eyes glossy. It was the way she clenched her jaw at those words. How the grit of her teeth spread pain like wildfire in her cheeks. How she had heard it so many times. How often she had to learn it was always a lie.

"You want me to give away the only thing I can protect myself with?" She smiled with bloodshot eyes and folded brows. "That's not acting in my best interest. That's acting in yours."

Dallas had to force herself to look away from him. "I am either worth nothing without it - or nothing with it." She fumbled with her rings, spinning them endlessly on the tips of her fingers until they span like the cogs behind her brain. "But nobody has ever made me feel like both until now."

Marilyn appeared at the other side of the bed. "This was never the life I wanted for you. The cure is a way to fix the mistake Peter made."

"I was born with it." Dallas met her gaze. "All Peter did was activate something already inside me. How is that a mistake?"

The parents shared a look. A brief moment of understanding that their daughter may have found comfort in something other than them.

Marilyn tried to console her daughter with a soft look. "The Dread Doctors will deem you worthless human." She swallowed. "Nobody will ever use you or manipulate you for their own gain ever again. You can go anywhere -- be anything, so long as you do it human." Marie paused. "Not a lot get that opportunity."

Dallas shook her head in dismay. The room became suffocating around her and weasled each singular breath out of her lungs impatiently. Everybody was staring at her. Her parents were beside her with Sybil and Seline scouring through the doorway like heathens. Dallas couldn't see him, but Dallas could sense Elijah was nearby. Klaus probably wasn't too far behind, either.

All of them waiting for an answer she couldn't give.

Feeling a saltwater sickness rise in her throat, Dallas began scuffling with her IVs and ignored the pressing questions that tried to wiggle in her brain through her ears.

"He can give you the cure, Dallas." Sybil beamed a gentle smile. "All you have to do is tell him the location of the fork.. and you'll never have to worry about it again."

Dallas ran a hand up her arm, coating the suppressed scales in warmth and running a soft tongue across the hidden razor teeth. She breathed in heavily - inhaling the scent of saltwater and moss - and blew out a speckle of sand.

But you don't want to give it up, do you?

Dallas squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore the voice in her head. One that was her own. The Siren side of herself detaching from the human.

Nobody knows you better than you, Dallie.

Perhaps being human would not be all too bad. Her family spoke no lies. It was exhausting being used, manipulated, and feared for that you couldn't control.

You'll regret it.

She'd be signing away the power she had taken so much time to learn about. Would it be treacherous? Would she be a traitor to herself?

You can't go back to being something you never really were.

Was this really what she wanted?

Is it?

Marilyn leaned forward to press her hand comfortingly against her shoulder, yet, Dallas gathered her fingers around the wrist and twisted it to the side just enough for it to hurt.

"I don't need a way out." She split a smile filled with the same razor teeth and the infamous white stare. "And I pity that you assume I'd ever need one."

Her hand reached between them before a figure of red soaked up their stares. A bag stashed with Siren blood and Garcia heritage was pulled from the cannula, half empty and not fully absorbed into the Siren.

"I'm not you." She swung her legs on the side of the bed, stepping forward to snarl the words through her teeth. "I don't run from my problems."

A stone-cold silence fell over the small family. Engulfing them into a sickening reality that their little girl was not so little anymore. And that she was barely a girl at all.

And as Dallas Garcia locked herself in the bathroom, clinging to the bag of Siren blood like a liquid lifeline, she ignored the pleas of her family behind her to pursue a safer life.

She roamed the lining of the plastic and pressed her fingernails against the red liquid bubbles inside. Her hands shook as the eyelids beneath her brows grew heavy and her taste buds dry.

A blood transfusion wasn't an option at this point. Not anymore. Not with them standing guard outside and dictating her every move. Dallas would have to implement it into her bloodstream somehow else.

Dallas snagged her teeth against the plastic tip before hovering it above her lips.

And she'd have to do it the only way she knew best.

Because despite the distaste she held towards Peter Hale, the dismay towards her appetite and the delusion of her purpose-

Dallas Garcia was a Siren down to the very bone.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dallas Garcia wiped the dust bunnies from her skirt before pulling the red cropped cardigan closer to her chest. The whip of braided hair, done ever so graciously by Sybil Garcia, wavered over her shoulder. The buttons of her sweater clipped together in the shape of hearts. Yet, as Dallas put one booted foot in front of the other, hatred was all she saw.

"Should you be looking for Theo alone?"

The Garcia had the phone pressed up against her ear, ducking her head in and out of hospital rooms as she passed them by. Malia's voice echoed from the device and silently scolded her beneath the speaker.

Dallas split a grin. "How'd you know I'm looking for Theo?"

Malia Tate walked down a hallway herself, just accompanied by a grumpy human and an enthusiastic werewolf.

"Because I'd do the same thing." She turned a sharp corner as the underground tunnels of Beacon Hills surrounded her.

"This way." She spoke mainly to Scott and Stiles, who followed her direction without question. "Scott said you can't kill him."

"No, but I can torture him." Dallas made a sharp turn of her own. "Slowly. Excruciatingly. Irrevocably." She then stopped in her tracks. "I just can't tell if that Chimera scent is his or not."

Malia allowed her eyes to linger on the tracks of blood lining the pipes. "I think I found a lead." She ran her fingers across the liquid before raising it to her nose. "I'll call you back."

The phone was tucked delicately away in her back pocket while pitiful eyes met Stiles'.

"This is Noah's. He was here." She whipped her head around the corner. "I think he's close."

Although, Scott McCall stood in the empty hallways. His gaze scattered across the pipes and puddles of water before switching back to his friends. "Guys.." He waited until Stiles stood by his side. "I think we've been down tunnels like this before like when we were trying to find Liam and Hayden."

Stiles connected his eyes with Scott's. "So?"

"So, maybe it means we're closer than we think." He turned his head back to the endless tunnel. "Maybe there's something else down here. Something we haven't found yet."

"Yeah, nothing that helps my dad." Stiles spat out while wailing his arms around exasperatedly. "Look, we can't just be standing around here waiting for something to-"

Stiles was abruptly knocked off his feet. Claws slashed by him and took him out from beneath until fell tumbling into the concrete wall behind him. The room fell blurry around him and Scott's panicked voice switched between his and Noah Stilinski's.

"Stiles, you need to get up." The voices conjoined together while blurs of his mother's funeral flashed before his eyes. "Come on. You gotta get up now."

"You need to get up." The voice repeated once more. "Stiles."

The werewolf helped his best friend to his feet, who let out a cluster of grunts and gasps. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

Stiles shook the blurriness away. He then circled his gaze to Malia who had another Chimera pinned against the floor and baring her teeth at him.

"Let me go, please. Please!" The Chimera settled his eyes on those that towered over him. Malia's growls echoed in his ears and Stiles' glares pierced his skin. Scott, although, soothed him with a somber frown. "They're coming!"

Cackling erupted from down the halls. Weaving through doorways and drainpipes, the Dread Doctors inched closer with slow steps and a sideways slant to their strut. The glass inside their masks had been replaced while their shredded fabric was sown together with a thread that didn't match.

Malia let go of the Chimera. She didn't bother chasing him when he leaped to his feet and rushed down the halls.

Stiles, however, did.

He clutched him by the collar and smacked his back against the concrete wall until wheezed coughs contorted with his pleads. "You're not going anywhere." Stiles' low voice grumbled through gritted teeth.

"I said I don't remember!"

"You don't remember anything?" He laughed humorlessly with a wicked tone, pushing the boy deeper into the crevices of cracked concrete and restricting his breathing.

"No!" The Chimera shook underneath the teenager's surprising strength. "Not when it happens. Not when I change."

Stiles dug his nails into his shoulders to further keep him still. "You clawed my dad half to death, okay, and now it's poisoning him." The Stilinski snarled. "You're gonna start remembering each and every detail right now."

Malia stood beside Scott while they watched helplessly.

"Scott, I hear them." She turned to the Alpha.

He didn't bother to look back at her. Instead, fixating his senses on the crunch of leather boots and a splash of distant puddles. He concentrated on the breathing. The laughing. The stalking.

"Yeah, I do, too." He took a step back and yelled out to the crazed teenager. "Hey, Stiles, get him out of here. Go to the hospital. Figure out a way to save your dad."

Malia matched his previous pace. "We can't stop them, Scott."

"No, but we can slow them down." He kept his eyes on Stiles. "Stiles, go."

Stiles Stilinski wanted to keep the Chimera underneath his grip for just a little longer. To wrack his brain until he made it bleed. He wanted so many things he knew he shouldn't - but morality was no longer working in his body -- and a state of calm had already passed, inducing him in a storm even he couldn't control.

Stiles grit his teeth, staring between Scott and the boy beneath his hands. "Stiles."

It wasn't what he wanted. Not by a long shot. Yet, the human loosened his grip and tossed him to the side. This time, allowing him to scurry down the halls for both his life and sanity with his hand keeping him upright.

The Dread Doctors reached the end of the hall at last. Their figures twisted in and out of sight while blood seeped into the center of Scott's shirt, the wound below opening up. He forced himself to look at Malia. "We're gonna be okay."

Malia didn't bother. "Scott, we're gonna die down here."

"No, we're not."

"How can you be so sure?" Panic lit up her eyes and latched onto the acres of her iris.

"Because you and Dallas aren't the only ones I called."

Chris Argent appeared behind the two with a gun in hand. "Get down."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

However, when the call ended for Dallas Garcia, she did not come at such a recollection. As her hushed murmurs explained ever so plainly.

"I think I found a lead." Malia's voice ruffled through her ears. "I'll call you back."

Dallas heard the abrupt dial tone and tutted once she brought the phone away from her ears. "At least one of us has."

The Hospital became a desolate place at night. So much so, that Dallas felt crept out by simply scouring the halls. The wind whistled a sultry tone, inviting her out and into his mythic depths. Still, Dallas would not listen. Simply following a trail of hybrid scent hastily.

Her head spun sweetly to the side as lights flickered above her. She kept walking, ignoring the goosebumps that arose on her arms and the nausea in her stomach.

A lump of hair coughed from her chest as she walked into something, or rather, someone. They were much taller than her. Towering in a way only a few people could.

When Dallas turned to glare at them, she met the eyes of the wrong hybrid.

Klaus placed his hands behind his back. "Hello, Goldie."

Those hands didn't claw at her neck. His stare wasn't picking her apart at the seams. His teeth weren't bared and ready to tear at her flesh. Klaus was simply staring at her. Almost as if he had already expected to meet her acquaintance.

"Don't fret, I'm not here for mischief." He glanced over her shoulder. "There's no need for such atrocities."

Dallas soured up. "I'm not standing here listening to your threats."

He caught her arm and held her in place. "I made no such threat. Not yet, anyway." He quirked a singular brow. "Though, I'm intrigued, who in their right mind denies a cure?"

Dallas leaned closer to his face to mimic his tone. "Who in their right mind offers one instead of taking it themselves?"

His lips parted in a toothy grin.

"You don't trust me."

"I think that's a guarantee."

Rubbing his lips together, Klaus riddled his glare from her face down to her neck. "I'm going to give you a chance to think it over." His arm rested on her shoulder. "This is a very big decision. Almost as big as picking a college, I don't expect you to rush, love. I do, however, find myself losing patience surrounding this damned fork of yours."

"I think a family dinner is adequate." He brushed the dust from her sweater. "Perhaps Elijah can work some of his perpetual convincing -- and I can bond with this little family of yours over blood and bone."

Dallas could read between the lines. As Klaus Mikaelson always said one thing but meant another. This was one of those times. He did not wish to bond - but to berate and threaten their existence if she did not play her part. To choose a role in his theatric affairs.

His shoulder swayed against hers like silk as he passed by.

"Bring that human boy of yours too, will you?"

Dallas clenched her jaw and turned to face him. "Stiles has nothing to do with this."

He froze. His irreparable stalking came to a dramatic halt while another smile slithered its way across his teeth.

"That's not what I asked, love." He hummed. "Bring him or he's first on the menu, Goldie."

That was something Dallas could not toy with. Stiles was nothing but a human boy. She couldn't haggle his life between the hands of Hybrids and Sirens to suit her own agendas. It wasn't worth it. Noticing her silence, Klaus Mikaelson called out to her moments before disappearing from sight.

"Don't be late."

Melissa McCall didn't bother to question the man lurking in the halls of the hospital as she chased after another doctor. She didn't pay attention to the thick tension lining the air as she breathed it in. All in all, Melissa had only one thing on her mind.

"Dr. Geyer!" Scott's mother ran through the halls with nothing but blue shrubs coating her figure and a stethoscope strapped around her neck. "We have to open him up."

Geyer widened his eyes at her outlandish requests. "What?"

Her words spewed faster from her lips than the oxygen could from her lungs. "There's something inside him. Something that we didn't see."

"Melissa, we can't just open him up."

"It's a piece of bone." She spoke breathlessly. "He's being poisoned by bone marrow. I know it doesn't make any sense. I know what it sounds like, but you have to open him up. Do it now!"

The doctors did just that. Slicing him open from seam to seam and pulling out his stuffing with red-stained gloves. Tweezers dug beneath the stitched skin and at last, pulled out a tiny bone that tore up his insides with its sharp edge.

Dr Geyer rose it to his face and narrowed his eyes at the shimmer from underneath the light. Melissa certainly did know more than she was letting on.

The doors of Beacon Hills Hospital split open like a parted wave. Scott, Stiles, Chris, and Malia all passed through it with hopeful eyes and panicked strides. Scott, predominately, directed his toward his mother and take a stand from the reception.

Although, Dallas was the only one to take notice of Klaus Mikaelson sliding through their crowd. Especially since everything happened so fast.

Melissa took a stand, nodding at the insinuation of Noah's slow recovery. Scott McCall led the pack through the hallways in a rush. Malia allowed her shoulders to relax and suddenly, Dallas felt Stiles slide his hand up hers and wrap around them so she could walk with him.

Yet, even so, Dallas could count the seconds she spent staring at Klaus Mikaelson's disappearing silhouette. She noticed how he looked back. How he allowed his stare to linger on Stiles a few more seconds than she'd like -- lingering on all of them.

There was something much more sinister about Klaus than there was about Theo.

Dallas knew what to expect from Theo. She knew his motives. His greed for power and success. While that may be true for Klaus also, Dallas couldn't be certain. And that uncertainty crept up her bones and shivered her spine down to the very core. It squeezed her lungs and kept her breathless with each step he took. Every smile, tut, and taunt was accompanied by something much deeper and darker. The kind of thing that grew the more she saw him.

Dallas Garcia did not know what to expect from Klaus Mikaelson - and that alone was far scarier than any Chimera.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Noah Stilinski blinked away the dreariness that sat atop his lids. His breathing fiddled between tubes and his chest fell with a cluster of confused heaves beneath the hospital gown.

Stiles Stilinski had his head snuggled into the dippet of his hospital bed as Sheriff Stilinski awoke to his presence. His hand grazed against his plad shoulder until the teenager lifted his head.

"It's okay, Stiles." Noah whispered softly. "You still got me."

The younger Stilinski grabbed his father's hand, squeezing it down to the bone and clutching it to his chest.

"I know."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Theo Raeken slithered down the same tunnels as Scott and Stiles, only hours later with Hayden at his side.

"He was here." She murmured.

Hayden recalled the events from the claw marks in the walls and the scents still lingering in the air.

Theo kept an icy stare forward. "What else can you tell me?"

Instead, she stopped mid-walk and scrunched up her face towards her Alpha.

"Why don't you tell me how I know that?"

"Noah's part Berserker. You're part jaguar. You'll be drawn to each other." He spoke it as if it were obvious. Not bothering to look at the Chimera as he explained.

"Is that why I'm here with you?"

Theo turned to face her. "I saved your life." He then noticed how she became puddled by her own thoughts and stared away from him. "What?"

She shuddered silently. "I think he's dying. That means they're going to find him."

"Probably already have."

His hand pressed against the blot of blood that littered the floors. He inhaled deeply before huffing. "We could've used him."

"For what?"

He didn't reply as his eye caught the shining light spreading across the floor like white ink. Hayden noticed it too, standing upright with Theo and fixating their gaze on its origin.

"What is that?" She lined its shape, a spiral clawed into the metal with a singular circle etched into its core. Light shone through it and lit it up like an all-seeing eye that watched their every move.

"A symbol." Theo mouthed through grit teeth. "The symbol of an Alpha and his pack."

Hayden turned to face him.

"Who's pack?"

"Scott's."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dallas waited outside Sheriff Stilinski's hospital room. A sick sense of deja vu circled her stomach like a swarm of piranhas. She knew she'd have to go home sometime - as Klaus Mikaelson and the rest of her family awaited her.

Still, she found comfort in the hospital. There, she could forget about her troubles for just a little while longer. She could inhale the scents of fresh cotton, soaps, and disinfectants instead of vampire, chimera, and werewolf. The rules of life were basic there - just keep living no matter what.

The rules weren't so simple once you stepped outside, though.

"You okay?" Stiles Stilinski appeared before her. His hands dug in his pockets and bags lined beneath his eyes.

Dallas couldn't believe it was him asking her that question. "Yeah, I'm fine." She leaned forward. "How's your dad? Is he awake yet?"

Stiles took a seat beside her. "Awake and walking around. The nurses can't keep him still long enough to see how he's doing."

The Garcia toyed with the heart buttons on her sweater as she listened. "He's already in the cafeteria. You'd think he'd slow it on the cholesterol since he just left surgery, but nope."

She let out a muffled chuckle, leaning back into the cushioned chair and folding her eyebrows sympathetically. Dallas felt his thumb cup her cheekbone. "You're looking better, too."

Although, Dallas could not muster the courage to tell him she didn't feel it. That the wounds on the outside may have healed, but she was still too paranoid and anxious about the next wave to enjoy the calm tides.

"Dallas, what is it?"

She cursed silently. Of course, Stiles could tell. They had been together long enough to learn each other's tricks. From the slight tone of one's voice to the muster of a single look, it was easy to pick it apart from the rest. It was easy to know when the other was lying.

"It's nothing." She picked her head up and focused her eyes on his. "You should keep an eye on your dad in that cafeteria, though. He might hog all the curly fries."

Stiles gave her a deadpan look. "Dallie."

The Siren shifted uncomfortably under his look. "My.. uncle invited you to a family dinner. He wants to meet you."

His deadpan look broke apart into a low chuckle. "That's what you're worried about? Me meeting your family?"

"Yes." She widened her eyes at his nonchalant behaviour. "A human boy in a room full of maneating sirens? It's a total trap."

His hand found a way to hers and squeezed it reassuringly. "I didn't even know you had an uncle." Stiles tutted. "See? This is totally the type of stuff a boyfriend should know. I'm totally going."

"No, you're not."

"Dallas." He attempted a stern glare that was overpowered by one of Dallie's much harsher ones. "I want to."

He ran circles around her palm with his finger. There was a silence between them. Stiles left his pleas hanging in the air for a few moments while Dallas allowed him to lean closer into his frame. "I told you the next time I saw you, I wasn't letting you go anywhere." The Stilinski frowned at the slow healing scars across her collarbones. "Not without me."

She chewed on her bottom lip and recalled the same anxiety Klaus had littered all over her. "This is different."

Stiles brushed the hair from out of her eyes and pressed his palm against her cheek. "Stop arguing with me."

She rolled her eyes. "Stiles-"

He took both her hands and rose her up to her feet with a gentle tug. "I just wanna do something normal, Dal, as normal as meeting your parents is." The Stilinski boy pulled her in by her waist. "I don't wanna waste good moments worrying about what's gonna come next."

Dallie blotted her lips, pressing the cinnamon lipgloss that swiped across them together, and thought momentarily.

"What if they make you hate me?"

"I'll date one of your aunts instead."

Dallas smacked him against the shoulder as he broke out in a smug smile she hated - but didn't, as much as she wanted to. He pricked the bottom of her lip with the tip of his thumb and rose her chin with the edge of his finger, all while forcing her to meet his eyes ever so gently.

"An hour." She managed to blurt out while rambling. Her eyes scrambled across the empty hospital waiting room and avoided staring back into his. "We stay an hour and that's it -- and we come right back here and you never talk to anyone but my dad ever again-"

He placed both hands on the side of her face and forced her to anyway. "Dal," The human spoke over her rambles with a gruff chuckle. "Dallie. Dallas!"

Her name sounded sweeter the more he said it. He had paused her rambling and held her gaze captive with a singular look.

"An hour. I promise."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

The night was cold. That's the first thing Dallas thought. The second was how selfish she felt for pulling him away from his father. The third was how annoying he was for asking her to.

"Should I have flowers?" He stood outside his jeep and chewed on his lip anxiously. "Or like.. a peace offering? Do I need protection?.. Should I get my bat?"

"It's a dinner, Stiles. You're not asking for my hand in marriage."

Dallas then ran her hands over her face. "You know, what? Maybe we should just.. not go and sit with your dad in the cafeteria.

She tried to climb back into the Jeep but felt Stiles swindle his arm in hers. "Nuh-uh," He hummed. "I didn't use half a tank of gas for you to chicken out. Come on, we need to show a united front."

The Siren huffed a small laugh. "We don't have a united front. We disagree on everything."

"I disagree."

They approached the door. Flirty jokes and familiar banter came to a stiff halt, leaving them with an uneasy silence that neither cared for.

"So.. There are a few things I may have forgotten to tell you before this.." Dallas held clutched his hand while the other wrapped around his bicep. His eyes widened at her as she began to list them, one as outlandish as the last. "Klaus is a Hybrid.. part vampire part werewolf.. I think. Don't piss him off. He has a brother, by the way. His name is Elijah and he looks exactly like my dad. He's a doppelganger -- or twin, or whatever. He's.. nicer. Don't piss him off either."

He pulled her away from the door and gave her a crazed look. "And you didn't care to mention any of this on the way here?"

Dallas pouted. "I panicked!" She ran a hand through her hair. "I didn't want you to tell Scott and you tell Scott everything."

Stiles ran a hand through his hair. "I do not." He then felt pressured under her gaze. "Okay, sometimes I do."

Dallas opened her mouth to speak - but closed when another spoke for her.

She wasn't expecting to see Sybil. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted at the sight of both the Siren and her human counterpart. It was as if she wasn't actually expecting them to arrive - which they wouldn't have if not for Stiles' persistent pestering.

"Dallas," She moved her eyes from one teen to the other. "And Stiles."

Stiles didn't bother speaking to her and instead pulled his girlfriend through the door by her hand. Dallas noted that it was probably because of her reluctance towards their relationship - and that one time she tried to have him killed.

The living area looked like it had undergone some redecorating since Dallie saw it last. Bookshelves were replaced - and probably broken before that. Picture frames were put in different places and couches had been rearranged.

"We're all in the kitchen, this way." Sybil led them through the house as Stiles rose both eyebrows at Dallie sarcastically.

"I know, I live here."

In what used to be a small dining table stood a longer one -- long enough to fit eight people and a few extra chairs. Seated at the very end, though, sat Klaus Mikaelson. Dallas turned her head to watch the other end, that one conveniently housing Elijah Mikaelson.

Dallas thought maybe it was perhaps a metaphor. Seats indicated sides and the closer you sat to each Mikaelson would dictate how much you trusted them. Either that or they both shared the courtesy of being the most noticeable in the room. She didn't really care which was closest to the truth.

"You're late." Klaus glanced up, fingernails tapping against the wood while eyeing up the inhabitants of the table.

"Sorry, I didn't want to come."

Dallas took a seat closest to Elijah while Stiles took the seat beside her. The room seemed suffocated in a blanket of silence and tipped into a state of frozen emptiness until the two had arrived, hurling questions at them to fill the void.

"I did." Stiles puffed out his shoulders and clenched his jaw - something he only ever did when he felt insecure. "You guys seem.. nice."

Klaus spread a wide grin. "I'd like to think I'm nice." He then directed his eyes to Dallas. "After all, I wanted to meet the pet Dallas keeps hanging around her all day."

Dallas opened her mouth to shoot what probably would've been an insult at Klaus but felt Stiles clutch her hand from underneath the table and interlock their fingers. "Not just during the day."

The smug smile was back and it became evident that Stiles didn't care for formality.

"You two remind me of a couple I once knew." Klaus leaned back in his chair. "You remember Stefan and Elena, don't you, Elijah? He dated his lunch, too." He took a swig of his bourbon. "And then she left him for his brother."

Stiles planted one hand on the side of his plate. "Good thing I'm an only child."

Dallas quirked a brow at Stiles and Klaus. She furrowed them at how Stiles seemed to mirror the hybrid and returned his hard-hitting questions with snarky answers.

A long silence reigned over the table before Dallas stared toward Sybil, begging her to be the first to break it and avert the attention away from Stiles and his racing human pulse.

The elder Siren pricked at the prongs of her fork with distaste and slight melancholy. Her hair was still twisted and damp from swimming in places she shouldn't have. Her head nodded towards her niece before she leaned extravagantly in towards the table.

"So.. Is now a good time to disclose that I'm a practicing.. vegan?" She emphasized, dinging the fork with her perfectly polished nails.

Dallie's eyes traveled beside her. To Seline. Seline was a much calmer, more grounded version of her sister. Still, chaos swirled in the eyes that struggled to keep focus.

Dallas felt her shoulders slouch and her head fall into her chair as they turned to James. His head was fallen into his hand and his lips puffed out the occasional sigh. That was, until he caught her eye and narrowed his. Something told her he wasn't so fond of the day comment and would kill Stiles for it later.

It was peculiar. Surrounded by the supernatural and that's what bothered him.

It was even more peculiar to shift her eyes to Elijah and see the exact same face. He faced his brother, hands tracing the edge of his lips with curiosity gleaming on both irises.

Klaus took an overview of the table himself and gleamed a Cheshire grin. "I'm not quite particularly fond of my own family, but I must admit, this one seems to have a little more edge."

Dallas felt her jaw cinch and tongue stroke the back of their teeth. "Is that why you're crashing our dinner instead of theirs?"

The teenager felt Marilyn's stares burn her skin. She could hear her thoughts manifest in her ears. Don't toy with him. You don't know what he'll do.

Klaus remained stiff as stone. His eyes glazed over to her darkly and his fork twirled out of his hand before clattering to his plate.

"Any human is welcome on our menu. Yours seems to be only teenage boy. It's intriguing. I came to try out the cuisine." His eyes then flickered to Stiles, who sat beside her and allowed veins to peek out from underneath his eyes.

Dallas scrunched up her face with a scorching hiss.

Although, before she could speak, Elijah did. "He's joking, of course. Klaus has always had quite the advanced sense of humour." He attempted to ease the tension while directing his stare toward the youngest Siren.

"Our family is.. complicated. Unique. But I can assure you, they'd never do you any harm."

Marilyn leaned forward. "You can rest assured that I would never let that happen." Her tone held a speckle of venom.

Elijah quirked a brow at this. He had never truly known Marilyn. Nor had he ever had the opportunity to experience one of her dramatic disappearances.

James didn't let the silence linger for too long. Snickering at his plate and tapping his ringless finger, he felt Klaus' compulsion kick in. "Until she gets the urge to run and hide."

Moments after he spoke, James slouched with guilt and avoided looking his ex-wife in the eye.

Klaus lifted the glass to his lips and didn't bother suppressing the mischievous smile that hid underneath.

"From where I'm sitting, looks like you've done a bit of running yourself and found two little vampires to buddy up with." Sybil grew protective over her sister. Bad blood or not.

Dallas didn't indicate herself in the conversation. She didn't need to. She hated the arguing. She hated how everyone spent so much time bickering over things that didn't matter.

She hated that nobody bothered to ask-

"Are you okay?"

Dallas snapped her eyes up from her plate. Pushing the hair from her face, hand placed gently atop her thigh, and eyebrows creased just gently enough to cause a fold between his skin, Stiles whispered against her ear.

Her shoulders fell from their stiff position and squeezed his hand tightly in her palm.

"Uh, maybe. A little concerned that everybody's gonna start tearing each other apart, though." She frowned. "It's gonna be hard to stay here an hour."

His lips parted into a smile so sweet it made her dizzy. "You were right. We should totally bail and let me take you somewhere in the Jeep."

She smacked him lightly against his arm before tucking her cheeks into a fake frown. "Be nice."

"I mean it." He stared down at their intertwined hands before clawing his way up to her lips. "Let me steal you for a while."

Dallas opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Klaus Mikaelson's voice. "Stiles, is it?" He leaned forward and grinned into the glass.

Stiles clenched his jaw and fixated his eyes on the Hybrid. "Yeah, yes, Sir."

Klaus tapped his ringed finger against the swaying liquid. "How was it being possessed?"

Dallas watched her boyfriend's face fall into a look she couldn't decipher. His hand draped into her lap and eyebrows furrowed while he mumbled his way through words.

"I- Well, I.. Possessive?"

She clutched his hand and ran her fingers across the knuckles.

"You don't have to answer, Stiles."

Klaus flickered his gaze to her. "I don't remember asking for your input, goldie." He then stared back into The Stilinski's eyes - whose iris had widened and shrunk with the compulsion. "How was it, Stiles?"

Stiles swallowed as he prepared to speak.

"It was horrible." He spoke blandly. "I hurt everyone I could possibly care about, and he rubbed it in my face that he could take whatever he wanted from me just by using my face." Stiles remained stiff. "And sometimes I feel like he wasn't real, but it really was me all along."

A shaky breath escaped his lips as he spoke the last words. The sentences pouring uncontrollably from his mouth and free will tinted the streams.

Dallas watched as horror overtook his features and he refused to look her in the eye. How he pulled his hand from hers, turning his head away and keeping it locked firmly to the ground.

"Well.." Klaus hummed. "I'm sure he'd make a great immortal, don't you?"

His gaze met Elijah's and a look of grief overcame it. She watched as the man who stole her father's face pressed his lips together and also avoided her eyes.

"Say, Dallie, I'm surprised you denied the cure." Klaus continued to taunt. "I mean, you two are sweet. It's not gonna be so sweet when you eventually eat him, though, is it?"

That's when Stiles looked up and stared at her face with parted lips. "What cure?"

"Oh, you don't know?" Klaus rambled on excitedly. "I gave Dallas a chance to be human. To be normal. She didn't want it."

His stares burned into her face while his hand slipped from hers. "And you didn't tell me?"

His compulsion took effect once more. "How does that make you feel, Stiles?"

Stiles paused while his iris widened and shrunk with the mind control. His shoulders slouched depressingly and words managed to creep out over his barely moving lips. "Like she doesn't trust me."

Dallas couldn't bear to look at him. She knew something was off - she had told him this was a trap and he didn't listen. Now they were nothing but playthings for the hybrid's enjoyment.

Dallas tossed the tablecloth to the plate before pulling at the Stilinski's shoulder. She held a steady breath as Stiles stood up, just as dazed as before, and towered beside her. "Screw this."

As she approached the doorway, the Siren glared towards Klaus - who beamed a mischievous smile.

"You know, you may be all-powerful, but you're always going to be alone." Dallas spat. She watched as his smile sank into gritted teeth. "No matter how much family you have."

Dallas didn't realize it at the time, but her hand slithered into Stiles' and he gathered up enough confidence to pull her out the door. He avoided the guilty look of James Garcia. He ignored how the three Sirens called out his girlfriend's name. He ignored the two vampires fighting to get into his head. Stiles ignored everything.

He simply wanted to be alone -- to be alone with Dallas Garcia.

Dallas pulled gently at his shoulder once more until his body twisted to face her. "Stiles, I can explain-"

He watched as she struggled to find the words and glanced down at their intertwined hands. The cold air whizzed around their bodies and brought an array of goosebumps that clouded their porcelain skin.

"Not here." Stiles blew out a huff of fresh air that clouded up into mist beneath the city streetlights. "Not while everyone's listening."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Stiles slid his hands down the steering wheel of his jeep, staring out at the cliff's edge before him and how the moon hung delicately in the sky above.

Dallas sat beside him. Frost crept across the windows and clung to the rustic blue metal of the hoog. Trees hung overhead, littered leaves across it's parked wheels and fogging them up in a darkness. She wouldn't have been able to see his face if it wasn't for the sprinkle of moonlight dancing across his features as he stared back.

His voice was low -- like he had been choosing what to say for so long that his throat forgot how to form the words.

"I started coming up here to think." Stiles' rasp brought shivers across her skin while the moon's luminescence lit up the side of his face. "Turns out, It has a pretty nice view."

Stiles allowed his eyes to dawdle her figure. Moonlight traced her skin and his silhouette cast a large shadow over her lower half with his thick frame. Her hands rested against the dashboard while skylines lit up in her brown eyes. "Think about what?"

She could see the moon's reflection in his teeth as he wore a wide smile. He didn't answer. Not in a way that mattered, anyway. He leaned closer to her frame until she could feel his minted breath fan against her ears.

"You didn't tell me about the cure."

Primrose lips pursed beneath the glittered gloss. "You'd want me to take it."

His head hit the back of the cushioned seats while a slither of outside light banded across his gaze.

"I want you to be safe." His hand ran down her neck to prick at her collarbones.

She didn't feel pain as his thumb stroked the bone. Simply watching as his eyes glimmered an emotion she couldn't read. Rather than meeting hers, he kept them steady on the spill of bare skin over tight red sweaters. Stiles swallowed. Then tore his eyes away to focus intent on anyting else.

Dallas placed both hands on the side of his face so he'd face her once more. "I'm more safe right now than I've ever been." Her nails slid down the side of his cheeks while she found herself captivated in the stare of his lips. "I'm worried its you who's not."

Stiles' chest rose and fell between the close proximity of their faces. Minted breath, cinnamon perfume and cherry chapstick engulfed their senses while darkness surrounded - both only seeing a few glimpses of eachother's features for a few seconds at a time. Stiles decided that even seeing the vague outline of her lips and the dim silhoutte of her figure was enough for him.

His words didn't carry very far as the rest were muttered into her mouth. "I'm not."

Veined hands clutched around her waist and ran up her sides. His pale fingers made up for what he couldn't see and carved her outline like statue only the blind could imagine.

Dallas noted that he tasted like bitter coffee and sugarcane. The caffineted thrill that tainted her tongue caused her heart to thump wildly in her chest while the sugar rush melted the stars above her. A tingle of teeth against her lower lip brought her head from out of the clouds and planted it firmly against his own.

Cold hands ran underneath her skirt and dug their fingers into her outer thigh before pulling her onto his lap. Belt buckles burned her warm skin with an icy metallic frame and leather seats scratched against her bare knees. Stiles settled between her legs before large hands gripped her waist and readjusted her back against the locked steering wheel.

They ran up her shoulders and nestled around her jaw to keep her face still. His mouth moved inches above hers and kissed the contours of her face. "I told I wasn't letting you go anywhere, didn't I?"

Heart shapped buttons were clipped open and rough hands brushed it from over her shoulders. With her back pressed against the indents of the wheel and head fallen backwards to stare hazily at the stars above them, Dallas felt his head bow in the crook of her neck and plant warm kisses against her collarbones.

She felt Stiles outline the bone with his tongue and lips curl up into a smile against the skin at the sound of her hushed whimpers. Slow unbuckling and the dragging of fabric down the sides of her legs felt like electricity swarming in her bloodstream, as did the clustered groans that vibrated against her chest when Dallas pulled at the ends of his hair.

Dallas felt a pressure build between her thighs, digging and delving deeper into her pelvis until her hipbones had begun to ache. Stiles was slow with it as he enjoyed watching her eyebrows fold and breath hitch in her throat at such small motion. He teased her with it and pinned her up against the wheel so all movement had relied on him.

She forced her eyes shut and waited for the pressure to build.

"No, look at me." Stiles grabbed the lower half of her face, his palm stretching over her lips. "Let me see those pretty eyes."

There was no reluctancy in doing what she was told now. As when Dallas heard him ask, she immediately blinked open her eyelids and stared at him with glowing white eyes. They became the only source of light in the Jeep and replaced the moons light with an inhuman glow that flickered with each blink. Stiles found them irrevocobly hallucinating. Like she had stolen planets from out of the sky and placed them beneath her eyelids instead.

"Good girl." He lifted her jaw with one hand and adjusted himself between her legs with the other. "Keep your eyes on me."

Stiles wanted to see the light brighten in her eyes as he worked himself between her pelvis. He wanted to see her lips part and teeth sharpen over the dippets in her lips. Stiles wanted to watch her body reach a level of intoxication that absolutely nobody could bring her to but him.

A long, hushed whimper coaxed its way from her throat as Stiles wrapped his hand around it. He made sure to wear her necklace around the fingers - so that even when she gave it to him, she could still wear it sometimes.

Leaning her forehead against his, Dallas rode at a pace that sent tingles up her arched spine. The breaths became easier to catch and the pressure dwindled into pleasure. "Fuck, Stiles-"

Dallas struggled to keep her gaze steady as incoherent cursing murmured out with each exhale. Her ribcage poked out from beneath her skin with each ride forward while Stiles tore at the cloth on her chest. He caught a glimpse of her through the kisses he littered across her bare torso.

"Do you want my help?" His mouth pressed against the side of her neck and hands shook as they gestured her deeper onto his lap.

Outside of the car, she wouldn't take it even if was between life or death. But when he was between her thighs and whispering sweet nothings into her ear, Dallas would've done anything he asked her to.

There were times where she wouldn't. Where she'd order him around and remain predmoninantly dominant. But there was something about the way he kissed her neck. Something about how he puckered hickeys against her bones and mixed up her insides nonchalantly.

This wasn't one of those times.

She nodded. Wanting nothing more than to be a pillow princess against his wheel.

"Then just keep looking at me, baby."

Her eyes widened as he continued with a rougher pace than they started with. His fingernails dug into her inner thighs and kept Dallas speechless with only moans forming in what should've been words. A hand clutched the wheel behind her while another guided her bounces with glee.

Hips grinded against hips and Dallas found herself seeing stars again - but this time she was looking at Stiles and not the sky. The pressure got deeper and her skin created a pressure of her own against him, the familiar knot coating her stomach and tensing up her muscles with each ride.

The words weren't able to form anymore. Just whimpers, moans, groans and cursing filling up the car before being snuffed out by the closed windows. Dallas threw her head back as his last few thrusts dug an imprint of the wheel on her back. It was her back arch even more and made her long braid spill over the handle - which Stiles then wrapped around his hand and forced her to meet his eyes with.

His pace became slower and his bone structure tensed up around her. Dallas knew he was on the brink as his breaths became heavier. As was she, who folded her eyebrows and clenched her jaw tight enough to give her a killer headache "Who gets you worked up like this?"

Dallas didn't respond but simply rolled her eyes at his teasing. Although, his hands pulled at her wrists to bring her closer and kept his pace causing friction above the belt buckle. "Say it."

"You, Stiles." she whimpered. A holy grail of mixed symphonies pricking her lips.

His tongue ran across his teeth and he pressed his hand against her chest to lean her backwards over the wheel. Messy hair pulled from the braid and the skyline was upside down from the positon Stiles had her in.

"Yeah, I do."

His last few thrusts were like hammering, nailing her into the front of his car like a pretty decoration he wanted all to admire. Dallas felt the rush, the hazy mumbling of Stiles beneath her telling her how much he adored her, the shaking between her legs and most importantly, the tight twitching of her body reaching a state of total and complete divinity.

Stiles let out a husky moan. He felt the tensing leave his own body in a glaze of white while Dallas mixed her voice with his in a holy grail of symphonies and pleasured screams.

Her breathing laboured and her thighs ached. Yet, she didn't care, cause Stiles breathed all of it in with a kiss that could suffocate anyone else -- readjusted her hips once more for another hour or two more of time spent in lovers lane and beneath the stars.

☆ word count: 9,798 ☆

a/n: everyone is so messy this chapter. kinda iconic. its also unedited so it may be gramatically messy too so lemme know if you see any errors <3