Boyd

-

The warlock gives a slight shrug, “It wouldn’t be the first nor likely the last time someone wanted or needed my help and yet was…uneasy with the fact I could hurt them. Not to mention their reservations based on my bloodline.” Magnus explains with a wave of his hand, not that he let that kind of thing would stop Magnus, he was used to it even if it could sting. “Well wards are a magical force field that I will put in place around your home, keeping those you don’t wish to enter from doing so. Not to toot my own horn but my wards are known for the durability.” He remarks looking at his polished nails before smiling. “So in short, yes. I can do that. No one will be able to come in unless you invite them.” He wondered what sort of trouble the young wolf was expecting but honestly it hardly mattered. Magnus was just to ensure that his wards worked correctly. “Usually anything wet but seeing vodka there that will do.”

--

Boyd tilted his head slightly at the warlock’s words. “Your bloodline has nothing to do with the kind of person you are,” he said easily. “If I had any kind of doubt about you, you wouldn’t be here right now.” At the explanation about wards, Boyd smirked a little - it was nice to see how proud Magnus was about his work. “Well, I do hope you accept payment plans,” he added on, “It does sound like what I have in mind might up the total price.” Which was fine with him but since he had no idea about how much even a simple ward would cost... “Vodka it is, then.” With that, Boyd got started on quickly mixing his favorite vodka based drink and poured it into two glasses, offering one to the warlock.

She wasn’t expecting for him to have said what he said. It startled her. “You have?” She bit her lip some. Alicia didn’t have any memories of him but everything was telling her he meant what he said. And she realized that the same might not have been true for him. “Well I guess today is one big surprise for us both than.”

--

—

Erica wanted to call out to Magnus, to Alec. Either of them. She wanted them to come and help her deal with this specter. She needed one of them to tell her if it was real. Erica took another step back, the voices in her head screaming. Had she finally lost it? Was it a trick? 

Was it Boyd? 

The jagged edges of the crumpled doorknob pressed into the skin of her palm, just shy of piecing her skin. Her dream uttered her name with a familiar softness. Erica flinched. Her knees were weak.  

Had she knocked over one of Magnus’ vials without realizing it? Had one of the cats? 

How could she check if it was Boyd without leaving the wards? What if her imagination fooled her again? What if it was another hunter’s trick? A lure to capture more supernatural to experiment on? 

Dammit, all to hell. Erica ripped her gaze away from the illusion, her heart aching. Why had no one called her? It couldn’t be Boyd. Someone would have called her. 

She mumbled Magnus’ name soundlessly over and over as if it could make the warlock suddenly appear and protect her from her mind. 

Erica was sixteen again, trembling in the woods.

She slammed the front door closed, knees finally giving out and smacking the tiled entryway with an echoing smack. Her hand, still embedded in the metal of the doorknob, but Erica didn’t bother to free herself. With a thump, her forehead bumped up again the door, the distant thrum of Magnus’ wards tingling against her skin.  She let out a shuttering breath that threatened to turn into a cry, beads of moisture gathering at her lashes. 

--

Boyd sensed the upcoming emotions in her - her scent not masking any of the turmoil - and he couldn’t do anything but stare. If it was a curse, it wouldn’t be able to recreate that, would it?

-

Magnus chuckles, “What a polite young man, how adorable.” He looks around the house and follows the others lead towards the dining area. “Well why don’t you tell me a little bit about what you’re looking for? Wards yes, though are you looking to keep all out or have parameters?” It wasn’t a terrible space, not as large as many of his clients but that only made his job easier. 

“Though I never find myself turning down a drink.” He admits with a small shrug of his shoulders. “And anything to get you to relax dear boy, honestly you won’t feel any pain.” He giggles shaking his head.

--

Boyd just raised his eyebrow at the warlock, a small smirk curling up his lips. “I wouldn’t have invited you here if for one moment I thought you were out to hurt me. Besides,” he shrugged, “I’m pretty sure I’ve been through worse.” With that, he nodded at Mr. Lig- Magnus to follow him into the kitchen but didn’t wait to see if he followed him. Opening his cupboard, he took two glasses, filling them with ice. “I’m not exactly sure how wards work,” he admitted, “but preferably I’d be looking for something to keep everyone but a few chosen people out, unless I invite them in? Is that something that could be done?” While he talked, he had taken out a few different liquor bottles. “Do you have any preference?” He asked as he pointed at the bottles of vodka, gin and rum.

“I uh..” She froze unsure of what to do or say next. She hadn’t thought this far and she didn’t know what to do now. “I guess so.” She muttered after a few moments. Going to class at the moment wasnt an option so she chose to sit down again.

--

-

Settling back on her tip toes, Cora kept Boyd close comforted by it more so than giving him space. “Want me to keep it to myself then?” She asks willing to do him that much of a favor, she loved Derek but she was sure her brother would understand doing it for Boyd. “Good, you deserve it.” Popping down on the flats of her feet she released his neck and gestures to a booth, “Sit, you can tell me about this friend of yours.”

--

Without noticing, Boyd leaned into Cora slightly. It only just now hit him just how much he had missed her and he rolled his eyes over his own cowardice of showing his face. “I’d appreciate it,” he replied, “I’m not... sure I can see him yet.” Seeing Derek would be different. While he had returned to Beacon Hills to check on his former Alpha in the first place, something kept Boyd from just walking up to him. 

He easily sat down in the booth, waiting for Cora to get settled as well, he took a deep breath. “I’m not really sure what to say about him. He found me just after I,” resurrected - he couldn’t bring himself to say it, so he paused for a moment, “and, well, he and his family helped me a lot.” He shrugged. “How have you been though? Were you here for the attack?”

-

Magnus looked at the door and offers a soft laugh. “Apologizes, I just was at another meeting and hate being late. Portals are always the fastest and most convenient.” He explains with a wave of his hand, “And please, Magnus. Its a mouthful otherwise.” He smiles looking around the room. “And if we’re going to be engaged in business, that puts us on first name basis.” 

--

Boyd hummed in response to the warlock’s apology. “I don’t mind saying Mr. Lightwood-Bane,” he replied, “but if you prefer Magnus, I can do that.” At least while he was talking to him directly. 

Not quite knowing how to go from here - he had never hired a warlock to ward up his place before - he just nodded toward his dining area. “Do you want to get started right away or would you like something to eat or drink first?”

.

Curiosity had her, Lydia had to admit.

“People? I’m glad, Boyd,” she knew he’d had Isaac once, and Erica before her death. Derek had been hit hard by both their passing, but Lydia couldn’t recall Isaac’s reaction. 

The twinkle of laughter sounded again. A young man, a young woman, and this time the shrill of a little girl giggling. Interesting.

“If it helps I’ll try and keep Scott off your back. He means well but the guy’s persistent as hell when he thinks he can help someone,” Lydia said, her tone a mix of deprecating and fond. The banshee toyed with an idea for a moment, before reaching below the table for her bag, wherein she pulled a pen and from off the table a napkin. “Here’s my number if you change your mind or… whatever.”

She held it out to him, feeling a little awkward herself. 

--

Boyd blinked for a couple of moments before slowly accepting her number. That was something he had not expected either. Lydia seemed to keep throwing him off his curve and he wasn’t completely sure what to make of it. “Thanks.” He replied, for both the number and keeping Scott off his back. He had noticed her curiousity peak up at his mention of having people in his life but he wasn’t comfortable sharing more than he already had, so he’d decided to skip over that part.

“I’ll text you later, so you have my number as well.” He said as he neatly folded the napkin and put it in his pocket - he never carried his phone on him while he was at work; both because he didn’t expect anyone to call or message him anyway but also because he didn’t want to risk getting distracted by his phone and accidentally burning something.

—

The doll. Erica focused on it. It was the one thing out of place. The one thing that wouldn’t make sense. It was her one clue, her one defense against being overwhelmed by the dream. Erica grit her teeth, eyes burning gold. “Not real.” she bit at herself. 

Still, there was the whispering in the back of her mind to go for it. Try. Hope. What would another failure do? It would be painful; waking up this time would be hell. But it might feel real. Would it be worth it? Did it matter? 

It was Boyd. If anyone was worth the risk, it would be him. 

Her legs trembled against the pull as she took a step back. It hurt. Someone would have told her, texted her, that Boyd was back. Peter. Cora. Derek. Scott. Someone. 

Erica had thought she was safe opening the door because of Magnus’ wards, but not even an all-powerful warlock could protect Erica from her imagination. Her eyes remain fixed on the specter. 

She needed Magnus to come home. She needed Alec to speak to her, somehow finding the magic words to soothe the pain for another night. 

--

As Boyd heard her two spoken words, he almost flinched. Not real. Did it mean she wasn’t real or that she didn’t believe he was real?

This curse - or not curse - was really starting to mess with his head. He needed to say something. He opened his mouth, not quite sure what he wanted to say but no words came out. 

For a short moment, he had to close his eyes to gather himself and just before he opened them again, he feared, that maybe she’d be gone again but she was still there.

“Erica.” It was all he could say really. Holding onto the doll, he had forgotten about Mr. Lightwood-Bane - no matter how much he insisted on being called by his first name, Boyd preferred it that way - had all but forgotten about why exactly he was here.

-

Cora stared at the tall wolf before her in shock, funny how it didn’t matter how many loved ones came back to life, it still struck her deep in her belly each time. Taking the air out of her lungs but the small wolf leapt up wrapping her arms around Boyd’s neck. “You’re back!” Her tiny form slamming into his brick wall of a body was confirmation of that and honestly a risk of falling on her face if he weren’t that she was willing to take. “Does Derek know? Where have you been staying? Get in here.”

--

Boyd let out a small chuckle when Cora pretty much slammed into him. Without really thinking about it, he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her into a hug. Before he answered her questions, he cleared his throat, ignoring the sting he felt at the mention of Derek. “He doesn’t know, no,” he replied. “I have an apartment. A.. friend helped me get settled.”

—

It had been a long shift learning the ropes at Elysium and Erica had spent most of the morning back forgoing sleep to chill with the army of kittens while she lounged around in Alec’s pilfered loungewear. At the rhythmic rapping against the door, Erica looked over, her brow furrowing. Alec and Magnus never knocked; the wards simply let them in. In the recent tumult, Magnus had been taking on more clients. But he hadn’t warned Erica of anyone coming by. The two of them respected her wishes to keep a low profile. 

Tentatively, Erica got off the couch, setting over one of her cat-siblings to the entryway. The wards weren’t reacting, and Magnus hadn’t texted, so the person at the door probably had no negative intent. Cora and Peter were the only two that knew where she lived, and neither of them had messaged her. Maybe it was someone looking for Magnus or Alec. As long as she didn’t cross the thresh hold, she should be safe. The High Warlock of Beacon Hills’ wards was nothing to scoff at. 

She knew that, yet something was screaming at her. Her stomach was a tornado of butterfly wings. She needed to, no, she had to open that door. Erica felt like she was burning in the comfort of Alec’s old hoodie. There was a pull beyond the door, a call demanding to be answered. 

It should be a red flag. 

Erica’s hand didn’t tremble as she turned the knob, remaining steady as she opened the door. Poised as the person in the hall came into view. Her breath came out in a gasp, mouth falling open just the slightest amount. The scents rushed in, heavenly and rich, running over her tongue. Her grip on the knob tightened, the metal crumpling under her grasp. 

Her brain was too cruel. She had experienced this dream with Isaac too many times to count. There had been times with him that he had seemed real; she could touch him, she could smell him, just as she was smelling the wolf in front of her now. Each time she had run to him, throwing her arms around him, he had held her back. Only to wake up; alone. 

The pull, the warmth. It didn’t mean anything. 

For her mind to pull this trick with Boyd? It was too much. 

She could survive a lot. Embracing this fantasy? This hallucination, only to have the dream crashing around her? 

Erica held onto the door; the crushed doorknob was the sole thing keeping her standing, holding her back. All she wanted was to take that step forward. 

--

Boyd was frozen on the spot, her scent surrounding him and even though she hadn’t said a word - maybe the hallucination couldn’t talk? - all he could hear was her whisper of “Boyd”. He immediately saw her laying on the ground, stretching out her hand while he had been incapable of doing anything. Incapable of keeping her safe.

Taking her in now, her face was a field of emotions - probably mirroring his own. He wanted to reach out; reach out just like she had done but he didn’t dare. What if he reached out and she disappeared? Just as she did whenever she appeared in his dreams. He was never able to reach her. Never able to get her to safety.

She couldn’t possibly be back. Someone would have told him by now. So whatever this doll had done, it was working with some strong hallucinogens which even included smell. But right now he didn’t care if she was a hallucination, he’d deal with that once she disappeared. Right now he just took her in, hating how much just seeing her affected him.

It had taken Boyd some convincing - and a promise to buy a pair of fairy wings for her as well as himself - to get Cherry to allow him to take the doll for a couple days. Sam had probably been right, the doll did seem haunted and Boyd wanted to ask Mr. Lightwood-Bane to check it out. He wasn’t going to allow his fam-friends to be haunted.

Taking a deep breath, he stood in front of the apartment door to the Lightwood-Banes and he knocked, carefully, hoping that the warlock was home - it was only when the door opened, that Boyd realized, he could have just called him and asked him if he was free.

Looking at the person who had opened the door, Boyd was more than certain that the doll was haunted and was toying with him right this moment. In front of him stood a very well-created illusion of Erica. He’d almost believe it was her, if it wasn’t for the clothes she was wearing.

.

“Brain and cognitive science, among other things. Still working on what I want my doctorate to be studying; considering doing a study on how supernatural influences affect brain function, or perhaps a more detailed study into how Pack bonds work… There’s a lot I could explore. And that’s without even mentioning how Alpha claws work and how they’re able to access the mind the way they can.”

She shrugged, aware she was rambling and not caring much. Lydia enjoyed talking about her studies, and took pleasure from the mental gymnastics it took puzzling things out. 

“I’ll be looking into what happened at the carnival. Call it a personal investment.” She murmured the last part, thinking of Stiles and how easily they could have lost him completely had the vampire not been there to turn him- or just chosen not to. “This will come of weird, and probably goes totally against everything you know about me from school days; but if you need anything, we’re here. Scott’s probably already given you his whole puppy eyed, heartfelt speech, I know. Still…”

--

Boyd felt himself ease up once Lydia got started about her studies. It did seem interesting what she did and it proved that he had missed a lot. He was mostly surprised that she seemed to actually be talking to him and not really like it was a chore or like it was out of pure politeness. It was a change from the Lydia Martin from school who had barely even known about his existence. 

And when she offered that the pack was there for him, he didn’t feel as aprehensive as he did before. He still wasn’t going to lean too much on them - he didn’t want to burden them, they had enough on their plate without having to take care of a stray omega - but maybe it was a good idea to keep it in mind.

“Scott did indeed,” Boyd said, thinking back to how Scott had certainly looked like a kicked puppy. “I told him that I’m good. I’ve found some people who are there for me as I am there for them.” He did pause here for a moment. “But I do appreciate the offer. None of you have to extend an offer like this to me and I do not expect it but thank you.”

While Magnus had been pretty busy with his position as a council member he wasn’t going to shrink away from his usual gig of setting wards for those who wanted an extra strength in security. There was after all a sense of protection in political standards but there was also a more hands on method that he enjoyed. Stepping out of the portal he created he looks around the room, taking in the aura of the place as he fixes his jacket. “Knock knock, Darling. I don’t suppose I’m early but I am at least I’m not late.”

@theunveilingreblog​

--

After Boyd had met Mr. Lightwood-Bane on the bench and had heard one too many of Sam’s geeking out over the warlock and his husband, Boyd had decided to make an appointment with him to ward up his place. With everything that had been going on in Beacon Hills, both past and present, it was better to be safe than sorry.

When the portal appeared, Boyd couldn’t help but growl, having expected Mr. Lightwood-Bane to come knocking at his door, but immediately eased up when he saw that it was indeed him. 

“I do have a door, you know?” He stated dryly. “But thank you for taking your time, Mr. Lightwood-Bane.”

|

Boyd’s coldness was discouraging, but the smile burned on Scott’s lips without weakening. He was alive again, that meant that there was Hope. Life, after all with full of possibilities. “Awesome,” he decided when the other werewolf assured he was doing fine. “Still, if you need anything, I’m easy to find.” Boyd needed to know that was still Scott, whatever he needed, the Alpha would be there—it was what friends were for, whether Boyd considered him it or not, at least he could be a number he could call when needed. 

|

Estarossa smiled widely through his borrowed face, accepting the shapeshifter’s independent attitude. Good, very good. Those who isolated themselves were the best to persuade into their cause, those who felt lonely and alienated. “Sure thing, bud. Not worries.” A smile crept onto his lips as he turned to guide the werewolf towards the closest diner.

“You got people here?” he asked casually, trying to make conversation as they walked. “I had my father and a girlfriend, but… they’re both gone now,” he shared a bit of Eggs’ own past in town.

--

Boyd easily fell in step with the man, raising his eyebrow at the use of the word ‘bud’, but he didn’t comment on it. 

“I do have people here,” he replied, not offering more information than this. “I’m sorry to hear about your father and girlfriend. What happened?”

Her smile faltered some as his name reminded her of her conversation with Josh. And suddenly her nerves were back. Since seeing the results of her dna test she hadn’t looked more into the family that she was suppose to have unsure of what she would find. And at the moment sure wasn’t fully sure what to say. Apart of her wanted to turn away and head to class but the other part of her wanted to know. After all it is the reason she moved to this town. Sighing softly she pushed her nerves down before speaking. “Vernon? Am I right?”

--