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There's blood on her hands, in her hair, on her face, under her fingernails, and it won't go away. There's blood on the floor, staining it. They just had it polished last week.
There was blood on his face, in his mouth-
She closes her eyes and tries to stop thinking.
She eyes Isaac and senses his nervousness. His fear.
"I would really appreciate it if you invited me in. You don't want this conversation happening on your doorstep. Trust me."
"If you have business with either me or my son, you'll tell me what it is, young lady."
"If you don't let me in now, I will rip out your throat in front of the whole neighborhood."
She pushes the door open easily and grabs the older Lahey's arm, twisting it.
"Isaac. I'm not going to hurt you," she calls to him. "You're my friend. Stay and we'll make this right."
Isaac pauses at the doorway. His heartbeat is fast. He smells of fear. Easy prey.
His father, even closer, older, and weaker...he's afraid of her, too.
"Get- get away from us. Leave us be. Our Father...our Father...hallowed be..."
"Do you know what sort of damage you've caused? Matt walks around every day with the trauma you inflicted on him. Like an open wound. You think he's weak. You made him think he was weak. What does your god think about that?"
"I- you can't just come in here...who are you?"
His heart thuds. He's an easier target. She could tear into him easily.
"I don't understand what you want from us!"
"...he didn't mean to."
He's nervous, guilty, afraid. He's trying to persuade her, cajole her, like she's not a vicious predator.
She looks over as Isaac and stares at him. His fear. He is afraid of her, but...
"This whole house stinks of your fear Isaac. Do you really believe that?"
"I'm sorry for- hurting Matt. I didn't intend for things to go so far."
His heartrate is relaxing now. As though the danger has passed. He still smells of fear.
"I should have done more for him."
He's lying.
"I can taste the lies on your tongue, hear it in the beating of your treacherous heart. Isaac, you can't keep defending him. You think I don't know what he does to you? How weak he makes you feel? I can make you strong."
"Please, have mercy. I can do better. I'll do whatever you want."
That, he means.
He sees the flowers. He could throw the vase- but he doesn't know if that saves his dad, or just makes him a target.
"Don't- for my sake, I can't- Matt- don't hurt him for me."
"How can you love him. After everything he's done. Everyone he's hurt. He's put you through hell and you still love him."
"He's my dad."
Anger, coloring the fear. He catches himself before he does something as stupid as moving towards her.
"Whatever you want, just stay away from us. I swear, I'll do whatever I can to make it right for Matt."
He's calmer, now. Starting to feel safe. She could still make a meal of him. Complacent prey is the easiest. Rend him limb from limb.
He's telling the truth.
"That doesn't mean anything. Shouldn't. I stood there and let my dad die. Chose Matt to live over him. Damon killed my dad and I still love him. We can't let that stand in the way. Damon needs to die and so does your dad."
She doesn't know if she makes sense but - it's the truth and Isaac needs to hear it.
She was weak. She let Damon kill her dad when she should have done something. Seen it coming, broken through her rose-tinted glasses. She hero-worshiped Damon, thought he could do no wrong. Even when he had always been a terrible person. Hurt so many people. He killed her mom. Tore through her dad's throat while she watched.
She can't just stand by and watch this man hurt the people she loves. Every moment he's free is a moment of pain. For Matt, for Isaac. She can't let them hurt as she hurts. She can do something about this.
"Let me help you."
He wavers. He's not- he's afraid, but he's afraid of a lot of things. He's been afraid his whole life.
"Please."
"Give me your arm. It'll hurt, but it'll make you stronger. Together we can be strong. Nobody will ever hurt us again."
"Isaac, what does she mean? What are you going to do to him?"
His scent has shifted now. The notes of fear mingle with something else, something which the werewolf in her can't recognize. His heart beats faster than it should. She can sense his weakness, his failing body. He is weak, no matter how much he tries to act strong.
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