tampered | no matter how hard I try

Entry tags:

no matter how hard I try

When; Monday night, August 25th
Rating; G, it's mother and son
Characters; Scott and Melissa McCall, maybe Derek beforehand
Summary; Scott's working late. After THIS, THIS and THIS
Log; .

Another streak of muted yellow followed the one next to it as Scott brought the roller down. Stepping back, he assessed whether or not he even liked the muted yellow. Originally, he'd thought it'd be calming. He remembered studies he'd read about animals reacting to certain colors. There was no reason to rile them up any more than they already could. He'd have to get out around the full moon, anyway. He could be sick once a month. Maybe people wouldn't make the connection. Dipping the roller into the paint again, he continued his task, having almost gotten three walls done.

He'd gone into the shelter early to help supervise the leftover workers. Wally had been the supervisor but he'd gone and rammed into the barrier before getting himself arrested. So, it was just Scott and these guys. Scott didn't know anything about construction. It was why he'd asked Wally. Pressing pause on the bigger projects, Scott decided to make the focus of the day, painting.

Late in the afternoon, he'd heard from Derek who was back. Apparently, the City did like sending people from Beacon Hills only to bring them back. He'd thought it might be better, if they were finally all on the same page but he was still behind Isaac and Lydia and now, Derek. All Derek confirmed was that things were bad. Through what Lydia and Isaac said, Scott could tell. Stiles' dad was missing. Jennifer Blake had fooled them all. She'd attacked Danny. Something happened later on after the recital and Scott knows on the one hand, he shouldn't find out. It won't help. It's why he kept Cora's existence from Derek. Derek would've only been hurt. He wouldn't have been able to see his sister who should've been dead. Scott was actually surprised when Derek wasn't angry with him for keeping it back. He understood.

Or, maybe everything had gotten bad enough that it just didn't matter.

Scott felt like he'd found a pretty good balance. Everyone kept talking about how well-adjusted he was. The truth was, he missed home. He missed what he'd always known. He was useless to his friends here. He was useless to his friends back there. And now his friends here were getting into trouble.

Slowly but surely, Scott had gone from listening to Anonymous to doubting them to outright opposing their measures. The straw that broke the camel's back had been Wally's capture. He'd evaded them for hours. He'd been tired and hungry and they'd just taken him.

Scott couldn't control everything and he couldn't save everyone, something he kept having to learn. But, things were different here. Maybe they were safer - or maybe they were less safe in completely different ways. Maybe clowns would show up with chainsaws. Or, he'd die. Maybe he'd die and never get to go back. There could always be something worse coming around the corner. He couldn't do anything about any of it right then.

After shooting off a text to his mother telling her that he wouldn't be home until late, he gave a look around inside his clinic. This, this he could control. He could make progress. He could help.

So, he set his network device down, sent the other guys home, queued up a playlist on a borrowed iPod, and painted. How could he be better or better himself when he couldn't make sense of one thing before something else cropped up? How safe were they all if Anonymous could just take somebody like that? There was something Rotten in the state of Denmark. Maybe that was what that quote meant. Shakespeare was still really hard.

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Of course, mama had other ideas. They'd both been working some crazy hours, to pay off their new home, their new life. And she was still utterly mortified about the curse she'd been hit with, that made her bring home a total stranger and declare her love. It had seemed so real at the time...

So when Scott texted her, she knew it was time for a reconnect. A time out, a chance to take a breath and relax.

She appeared at the clinic with snacks and sodas, in a little paper bag, and let herself in with the key he'd had made for her.

"Scottie? Where are you?"

Scott had been working crazy hours because of Lydia, because of the curse, and because he felt he had to. He'd gotten the second job at the cafe to help his mom. He'd always helped her before, why would the City be any different. He wanted to and she had no choice in the matter. He knew she wanted him to be a kid, to take his time growing up but that ship sailed as soon as he became a werewolf. People had died.

But, he was still her Scottie.

A 311 song began as he heard first the keys in the door and then his mother's voice. Normally, he'd be happy she showed up - he was grateful, but lately, after revealing all to her it was hard to keep her from realizing how bad things were getting. Luckily, he managed his even keel demeanor.

"In here," he called out, finishing his latest streak and setting the roller back down in the pan. He was in the back of the main room. He sniffed the air, turning back, cracking a smile. She brought food. She really was the best mother. Scott greeted her, taking the sodas out of her hands. "Thanks, mom. I'm starving."

He'd forgotten to eat. Oops.

He would always be her Scottie. It had been just the two of them for so long, that they'd become very close over the years. It was why she didn't feel the need to discipline him very often. It wasn't necessary. He knew when he did wrong...

"...You really need to stop picking up my habits," she returned, pulling the little slider sandwiches out of the bag. Turkey and cheese on Hawaiian rolls, very simple, and delicious. As she set everything up on a nearby table, she glanced at the wall he was painting.

"So you decided on the yellow? I like it."

Because he disciplined himself. Then again, things he really did were staying out too late and in the grand scheme of things how bad was that, really?

At least he'd gotten her habits and not his dad's.

"I was on a roll." He realized he had paint on his hands and wiped them on his jeans before realizing that, maybe, that wouldn't clean them. He held his hands there, looking up. "I should wash my hands."

Heading on into the back bathroom, he left the door open and quickly did just that. Wiping his hands with a towel first, he looked at himself in the mirror. Peering, he leaned forward. He looked fine. Not bothered. He wiped his mouth before emerging again. Thanks to his werewolf hearing, he'd heard her. He answered as he walked back in.

"It's supposed to soothe the savage beast," he said, taking a seat in front of the sliders she had unpacked. Opening the container, he picked one up and took a big bite, not hesitating before giving his work a once-over. "Igtltdrn." Taking the soda, he sipped, washing his mouthful down. "Did I know you were coming by?"

Had he forgotten?

"No, this is a surprise pop in."

She perches herself on the edge of one of the examining tables, soda in one hand. She'd had her food earlier, so she wasn't that hungry; it was mainly for Scott. And he did look fine. Busy, yes, but not too terribly worried.

Of course, she knew that was when he was the most worried. He liked putting on a brave face for people, but that was why she was popping in. To make sure there was some support behind the bravery.

"You all right?"

"Those are never bad," he responded, looking up at her and then back down. They hadn't moved the newly constructed exam table in the exam room yet. "Sturdy, right? Wally welded it." It was actual metal and impressive to say the least. Could he do this without his head contractor? He took another big bite, taking a napkin and wiping his mouth after. Shifting his chair around, he faced his mother.

Scott was the supporter. He didn't need the support. Back home, he was just starting to let everybody help out. He'd sent Stiles off to talk to Lydia. Allison, Isaac - they all were proving that they didn't need Scott over their shoulder to keep them safe. But, he was still ready to jump in if need be. He was fine. And if he wasn't, he would be.

Taking another sip, he swallowed before answering her.

"Yeah. A little behind now with Wally gone." He looked up at her, a smile on his face. "But, we'll manage." He'd just have to find another contractor in the mean time. People in this City were so helpful. "Are you?"

"I'm okay. It's nice to be working again. I was starting to get a little stir-crazy without it. If I'm not pulling a twelve hour shift, I hardly know what to do with myself."

She matched his sip, her legs dangling over the edge of the table, making her look young and innocent. And she was still in her scrubs, which was familiar and comfortable. This could have been a scene back in Beacon Hills, honestly.

"Wally? Gone? What happened? Wait...which one's Wally?"

She's really bad at keeping everybody in the City straight.

He smiled to himself as she said that. As far back as he could remember, he'd had a working mother - and father. But, she'd worked slightly less. At a certain point, she'd had no choice but to up her hours. But, both mother and son had gotten used to that.

It could've been. But, she'd never visited him at Deacon's clinic, not that he'd ever visited her.

"Our contractor? He helped with construction." He set his burger down. "You remember the earthquake?" And the aftershocks, he keeps back, but those were implied. "Wally and another person, I don't know, they threw themselves into the barrier around the City." Slammed themselves, really. "Wally was in the mountains but he was too far away. I couldn't get to him in time, he was 3000 feet up. Anonymous took him." He tried to shield how he'd felt about it, how much he didn't trust them, how he'd basically yelled at Tristero.

She really did try to keep up with the goings on in the City. But...all she knew was that the earthquake meant possible trauma patients, not that anybody would be arrested as a result. Or taken. Nothing about this place made sense, really. But she tried.

"Three thousand...how in the name of hell did he get up that high? And what's this Anonymous? Sometimes I wonder if you're speaking a foreign language."

"Anonymous is the group that took over the City. They're the ones that say they want to stop the curses," he explained. "And he's a superhero." He didn't know quite how Wally got up that high, but that was clearly a part of it. "Tristero, one of the Anonymous, got on the network and talked about it. He said a lot about what Wally did and even gave us his name. And then I saw him on the network but it was too late. Now, he's gone."

Scott didn't even know where they were holding him.

"Was there any damage at the hospital?"

She shakes her head at that last question.

"No. Just a couple of jolts, but we're Californians, right? No big deal. I think we lost a couple of IV drip stands, but nothing more important than that."

The rest of it, she's still processing. It takes another sip of soda to make it all go down.

"So...okay. We've got people who are trying to stop curses, but in doing so are getting pretty Orwellian about it. You're not directly involved in any of this stuff, are you Scott?"

Because she knows him, and she's pretty sure he already is. But...sometimes it takes a direct question to get the full truth out of him.

"Good," he responds. He's glad she and everyone else in the hospital was safe.

It's a lot. He knows it's a lot. But, he's done with trying to keep her away from all of this. He'll even explain it further if he has to - if he can. He doesn't know everything but he knows Wally was taken.

"I talked to them. But, I don't know them and I haven't done anything." Not directly. "The guy, Tristero, he seemed sorry they weren't doing better." But, that doesn't stop Scott from thinking they've gone too far. "If I could get Wally back, I would." But, he also wants the curses to stop. "Anonymous doesn't just want to stop the curses. They want to send us home."

A look down.

"Or, that's what they say."

She lets out a sigh, and nods a bit.

"In my experience? Anybody who won't sign their names to a statement or a cause usually don't have much to say. Not much worth listening to, anyway. If Wally's been arrested, then there are legal channels to go through to fight it. Don't go in, fangs bared, and make threats. That'll just get you in trouble too."

She gives him a little pat on the hand, for both encouragement and reassurance.

"Let's get some legal advice from somebody who's been here a while. Then we can help your friend."

"I didn't go in fangs bared," he responds feeling a bit sheepish because he did threaten him when all was said and done. If only because if anything happened to Wally, he wouldn't be happy. Not that he'd kill them or anything like that, but he implied something less than friendly.

"I don't know any lawyers." He looks at his hand and then up at his mother. "Do you?"

Melissa McCall can do no wrong.

That gets a little laugh out of her, and she shakes her head.

"No. I don't. I'm still learning everybody's names at the hospital. I..."

But then she cuts herself off, goes suddenly silent, and gets a very strange look on her face. An inward stare, as it were, like she's trying to figure out what's going on with her body. A moment passes, and she blinks once, confused.

And then, just like that, just in that one blink of time...she vanishes. Like being cut out of a frame of film.

"You..."

He doesn't get time to react, because the same thing is happening to him. Something is shifting, his body feels like it's moving? Something feels funny. He looks down at himself and vanishes just like his mother.

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no matter how hard I try

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oh that icon

i stocked up, mom!

you did good baby

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