A/N: So I actually wrote this a long time ago, but my laptop charger capooted on me. Originally I was going to write another chapter from Boyd's pov but I just couldn't do it. :( It was suggested to me a few times times to write from Cora's perspective so here it is! I decided to change somethings around to fit this universe. Enjoy!

Also, can you believe it's already been a year since I first posted this fic?!

Warning: character death. this one gets a little depressing.

Listen to Turn Around by the Early Winters for this.


Cora.

They're sitting in the elegantly furnished living room of the rebuilt house and Cora turns to Derek. "Hey," She whispers, sitting beside him on the couch.

Cora took Derek's hand into hers. "Are you okay?"

He clenched his jaw and shook his head. "I should have protected him. I should've fought harder. Now...now he's dead." He buries his face in his hands and Cora wraps her left arm around him, resting her head on his right shoulder.

The others trickle in, clothes torn and bloodied. Exhaustion and grief is written on their faces. They've just lost a pack member and it feels like they've lost a limb. They know nothing will ever be the same. Isaac sits on the couch stoically staring at the wall across from him. Lydia is standing stock still with her arms wrapped around her, shaking. Her eyes are darting every which way like she's still processing what just happened. Erica walks in like a zombie, silent tears coursing down her cheeks. She sits beside Isaac and they curl into each other. Cora remembers that the three of them were always together, knows how hard it is to lose someone so close to you. Stiles comes in then, wiping at his cheeks. His face falls when he sees Lydia and he goes to wrap his arms around her. She shakes her head and heads for the stairs no doubt seeking solace in her room. Scott is with Deaton, getting patched up and Allison is with him. Cora can hear Jackson and Danny talking quietly outside on the porch.

Cora feels the loss, though she didn't know Boyd as well as the others did. Still, the hole a pack member leaves when they're gone is something they all feel the bitter sting of. She hugs Derek tighter, knowing he blames himself. It was a good day; they were all hunting, playing tag and just being silly. A rogue werewolf showed up out of nowhere. Hungry. Rapid. He attacked Scott first before Isaac and Boyd jumped in to help him. He went straight for Boyd's throat. He was dead before his body even hit the ground. The rogue didn't get far before Derek was on him, ripping his head off in rage with a piercing howl.

Sleep evaded them all that night.

The next morning, Cora dragged herself downstairs for food. The house was silent, most of the pack out in the woods or just gone. She could hear slow heartbeats from the living room and headed there to investigate.

There she found Stiles lying on his back along the couch, arm wrapped around Derek who was sticking to Stiles' left side, arm draped over the boy's waist. Derek was sound asleep and Stiles watched over him with lidded eyes, the fingers of his other hand stroking his dark hair.

When he saw Cora, he smiled lightly and whispered, "Hey."

Cora attempts a smile but it doesn't quite fit on her lips. She shuffles closer and peers at her brother's lax face. Sometimes she can't help but stare. Every time she sees him her chest tightens. She spent years as an omega searching for Derek and Laura. She didn't find them until she visited the Miller pack her family was once familiar with. Their mother Talia was a beloved werewolf so they welcomed Cora in with open arms. The alpha had caught wind of a Hale rebuilding the pack in Beacon Hills and she knew then her searching hadn't been in vain.

When Cora had heard rumors that there was a Hale rebuilding a pack, she couldn't believe it. She'd returned to Beacon Hills after many years of searching for Derek and Laura. She'd been surprised to find the house rebuilt, different but so much like home, and Derek in the center of it all.

She'd learned what her Uncle Peter had done, how Laura became alpha then later died, and the story behind the new wolves and the humans. They welcomed her into their fold and she'd finally felt a sense of belonging again.

Finding Derek had been a huge relief, but...he was different. He wasn't the fun, carefree boy she'd remembered all those years ago. The fire had jaded him, changed him so completely she didn't even recognize him. She could see that he was healing, though, and becoming the man he was meant to be all along. The pack had changed him. Stiles had changed him.

She could see it in the way Derek stood a little taller, held his head a little higher when Stiles entered the room. He laughed with his eyes when the pair bantered and his hand would always find its way into Stiles'. She'd caught them snuggling sleepily in front of the counter by the coffee maker many times. Sometimes Stiles would be preoccupied, babbling while he cooked or cleaned or whatever and she'd see Derek look at him with such love and fondness in his eyes when he thought nobody was looking. Whenever Derek had that worried furrow in his brow, Stiles would step up behind him, arms wrapping around Derek's waist and press kisses to his neck and shoulders until he would turn around and kiss Stiles like he would never kiss him again.

Derek whimpered in his sleep bringing Cora back to the present. His brows were furrowing and his hand grasped at Stiles' shirt. Stiles ghosted his knuckles along Derek's cheek, shushing him gently. "Hey, it's okay. You're okay." He repeated the gesture and words until Derek settled, face relaxed once again. Cora was in awe.

Derek had seen so much death and destruction in his life. He'd spent years fighting his demons, battling his crippling guilt and learning to forgive himself. She was glad he finally had something, someone, to ease the pain.

Cora kneeled beside them, smiling down at Derek with tears in her eyes as she stroked his dark hair. She placed her other hand over Stiles', squeezing gently before looking over at him.

"Thank you." She let the tears fall. "Just, thank you."

/


So that happened. I'm so sorry.