Brother || Teen Wolf

Chapter 34 - Secret Unveiled

Time has a wicked way of slowing down when people are most anxious. This was a truth Henry Tate was painfully reminded of on that late evening. His general unease and bad mood did nothing to help -- the man was physically alert but mentally already half asleep. He was still up because, despite many phone calls, his son seemed to refuse to come back home. Worry and a thousand dark thoughts were eating away at him with each passing second, climaxing when he saw red and blue lights blinking in front of his home.

Henry got up on his feet, his stomach clenching in apprehension. A sense of déjà vu, memories from a time he'd rather not remember, anchored his feet to the ground and he found himself incapable of moving. A late night at home, alone and made fearful by his family's absence, and finally, the Sheriff showing up with horrible news. Blinking hard and forgetting to breathe, he forced his legs to walk and reached the door.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the Sheriff's dark expression. His face was stern and he did not appear in any kind of hurry to reach the front door. Suddenly, the detective turned on his heels and knocked on the passenger's window, revealing the presence of a second silhouette. Henry squinted at the scene and immediately recognized his son. He closed his eyes in relief, feeling his entire body relax and air reentering his lungs. He opened the door and walked to Jamie, newfound energy rushing through him and pushing him forward with determination.

The display of his father, marching forward with an unreadable expression on his face, made Jamie quite fearful. He wondered what he had done wrong but quickly understood the situation he was in could easily be misunderstood -- after all, he was escorted home by the Sheriff himself at an hour best suited for mischief. But when his father got closer, Jamie saw he had been wrong. The man wasn't mad, he was worried to the point of tears. Guilt pushed Jamie out of the car and on his feet, biting his lower lip.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

The Sheriff watched the scene from afar, not daring to interfere. Henry took his son in his arms, not trusting his own eyes and answering the parental need to feel his child's presence. The tension they had both been prey to vanished, allowing them to finally relax. Noah hated himself for breaking the moment, but he wasn't here just to bring Jamie home. He took a few steps quite loudly, in an attempt to subtly remind the Tate family he was there. It worked, since Henry looked at him apologetically and welcomed him inside the homely living room, offering him a well needed cup of coffee.

The Sheriff sat down in the old leather sofa, careful not to disturb Apollo's peaceful slumber at his feet. The dog appeared oblivious the agitation around him, only mindful of his own sleep. Envious of this blissful existence, Noah looked at the Tate case file in his hands with a heavy heart. A steaming cup of coffee in front of his face brought him out of his thoughts, the delightful aroma making him feel more awake already. He took a deep breath and met Henry's gaze.

"Mr. Tate, I'm sorry to bring this up, but I have a few questions regarding your family," he started.

The look on Henry's face revealed he had an idea what this was all about. The moment he had dreaded for so long had come. He glanced at Jamie, who was sitting across from him and had no idea what was going on. Sighing, he prepared himself for a situation he had rehearsed so many times in his head.

"Okay," he answered softly. "But why now?"

Rather than using words, Noah handed him the evidence that had puzzled him not so long ago. The file was only two pages long. On the first page, Henry found the DNA analysis from the video store attack. He nodded, understanding what the results implied. The second page was almost empty, making Henry frown in confusion. The document appeared to be a search result in the Beacon Hills Adoption Office database. The name 'Jamie Tate' had been searched for.

"No match found," Henry read. "How is that possible? Has his file been erased somehow?"

"I'm not sure myself," the Sheriff answered. "Which is why I came here. I need a name."

"I don't have a name," Henry said in a sad voice. "I didn't want to know. Evelyn knew, but I asked her not to tell me."

"Wait, what's going on?" Jamie reacted at the mention of his mother's name. "And why are you looking at me like that?"

Reluctantly, Henry handed him the files. If there was one thing he knew about his son, it was that he preferred facts over long-winded, sugar-coated explanations. He monitored his son's expression closely as he read the first document. He was prepared for anything -- anger, shock, disgust, sadness -- except what Jamie actually did, which was nothing at all. His face was blank, his eyes staring at the paper, dumfounded. He had no idea how to handle the news and it showed.

The thing was, Jamie saw something else in the document, something his father and the Sheriff couldn't suspect. He might not have a name, but he knew one thing about this other father he had just learnt about: he was the one who had knocked him unconscious in the video store. He was the one who had killed so many people, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake.

He was the Alpha.

That was a bit too much to handle for Jamie. He handed the document back to the Sheriff and got on his feet slowly, unsure of what to say. He walked to the door, squeezing his father's shoulder as he walked past him. The gesture was small, but he hoped Henry understood it. Since he didn't chase after him, he probably did.

The cold night air greeted him but failed at bringing him peace of mind. He was on auto-pilot, wandering mindlessly and letting his feet guide him. In this moment, he wasn't scared of being alone in the woods. The one truly dangerous thing roaming the woods at night was the Alpha. His father. Jamie gulped, feeling sick to be related to a murdering, psycho werewolf. His feet hit the ground faster and faster and soon, he was running. His entire body protested, his muscles already aching after just a few steps, but he needed to empty his mind and running was perfect for that.

He stopped when he saw where his feet had taken him. Towering above him were the sorry ruins of the Hale house. Jamie let out a bitter chuckle, victim of some kind of dramatic irony. In this moment, he was seeking help or at least, he was looking for someone to talk to. Except that the one person he had instinctively been looking for was Derek, and Derek was dead.

Sitting on the burnt steps, Jamie took his head in his hands. The weight of tonight's revelation was too heavy for him to bear alone. He didn't feel like crying, he didn't feel like doing anything. What he felt was emptiness, like he was a hollow shell the evening's events had shattered into pieces. He wanted to talk to someone, to get angry, anything, but who could he turn to? Lydia? Scott? Stiles? Sure, they would listen. But there was no doubt in Jamie's mind something would change if they knew. They wouldn't trust him anymore and he couldn't blame them. If his father was capable of killing innocents, maybe he was as well. Maybe it was in his blood. Maybe he was a sleeping monster, a disaster waiting to happen. Maybe his friends would be safer if he wasn't around.

The dark thoughts flew in circles in his mind like vultures, nagging at him until he felt nothing but numbness. He ended up felling asleep on the burnt steps, exhausted and alone in the theater of yet another tragedy he was unwillingly part of.