Hiya! This story is a spin-off. It if you haven't read Away and Apart then I suggest you start there. This story will be a little confusing otherwise.

I hope you enjoy the story.

Dreams and Grown-Up Things

Melanie shot upright, sweat soaking her through and through. Her hair whipped around her throat and clung to it. It was early October, and it was still eighty degrees. Melanie panted, waiting for her hear to slow. It had only been four months since the alpha pack had been taken care of. Everyone was back in school for their sophomore year of college. Isaac stayed at home instead of rooming with Scott again. He slept soundly next her. She ran her fingers through his short unruly hair. He'd gotten a cut over the summer. He was so handsome. He heaved a deep sigh.

Peter was still missing, but that wasn't what was waking her up from a dead sleep these days. It was these nightmares. They started out as dreams and she didn't' remember them, but that was two weeks ago. Now they were ingraining themselves into her memory and some nights she felt like she didn't sleep. Her body felt achy. It was getting hard to tell if it was from exhaustion or from the nightmares. The nightmares…oh what a number they did on her. She didn't tell anybody about them, not Deaton or Chris, not Derek and certainly not Isaac.

Melanie lay back down and stared up at the ceiling. Her heart finally slowed to a steady and soft thump. She fell back asleep quicker than she expected.

A clanging downstairs jolted her awake. Isaac didn't budge. Melanie pulled the covers back. The air was cool for a second on her skin and then suffocating again. She picked up Isaac's shirt from the floor and slipped it on. The hem stopped short of her knees.

She tucked the hair in her eyes behind her ears. Soft thuds of footsteps that only one like her could here came from downstairs. The muscles in her legs and arms tensed. A cobalt glow emanated from her eyes in the darkness.

She stepped quietly and cautiously going down the stairs. Isaac hadn't awoken so it was probably a raccoon in the trash outside. Her mind was playing tricks. This wasn't some horror flick where the killer was in the kitchen making a sandwich. But with a particular werewolf still out there she couldn't help her jumpiness. And, if Isaac wasn't alerted then she had no need to be. She peeked into Derek's room. He lay on his stomach, taking up the whole bed so it wasn't him making the noise downstairs.

She wandered into the kitchen and pulled down a glass from the cupboard. The house was still taking some time to get used to. The kitchen was big and reminded her very much of the one she used to have. The one that had burned down with the rest of the house because of The Calaveras. The counter tops were white marble instead of dark grey. The fridge was in a different spot. There was still a back door to the backyard though.

After downing a glass of water, she peeked out the back door. Crickets sang from the dewy grass. Her night vision had her seeing through the trees perfectly. Some deer fed on a low branch seventy-five feet or so off. Feeling much more at ease, she made her way back upstairs.

A knock at the door stopped her at the base of the stairs. She turned slowly. A petrifying feeling clutched her gut painfully. There was something on the other side of that door and it wasn't friendly. It smelled putrid. Her nose wrinkled with disgust as she inched closer to the door. The closest thing she could think of was that it was like rotting flesh.

She reached for the door subconsciously. The knock remained consistent. She flung open the door. A gust of wind blew in leaves. That's not eerie as fuck, Melanie thought.

The night crept in, but nobody was there. The wind whistled and whipped her frazzled hair. Leaves wept in past her feet. The light of a full moon made the porch glow.

"Melanie!"

Melanie shot up. She averted her head quickly from the blinding morning sun. Isaac shook awake beside her. He touched her knee underneath the covers. Worry creased his devilish features.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Melanie rubbed her sleepy eyes, adjusting to the soft yellow sun and gave a nod.

"Just a bad dream." She offered a small and unconvincing smile. He didn't press her.

Sitting up on his elbow, he kissed the back of her arm. The gesture didn't shake the cramping in her stomach. That voice that called her name, she knew it well. Too well. The chilling, gravelly snap of a sound in the way her name was called belonged to only one person. She shuddered at thinking about him. He'd been dead for a few years now, but he still incited terrible chills.

"Just a bad dream," she mumbled again.

She slid out of bed and Isaac's light attempt to bring her back. She swayed on her from a flight of dizziness. She caught the post of the bed and let out a tired sigh.

"Hey." Isaac wrapped his arms around her. She melted back into him. She took a deep breath through her nose. A delightful chill ran over her skin just like his fingers skimmed across her arms and over her waist. "You look like you haven't slept."

"I'm okay. Promise." Melanie smiled, tilting her head up. He met her for a kiss.

"Mmmmmm, I'm hungry," he grumbled.

"Mmmmmmm, you better go find something to eat then," she retorted.

She elbowed him playfully, and trotted to the closet and got dressed. She had a run to make with Chris this week. Lately, she had been helping him out. With everyone busy-Derek helping Jackson run the bar and Isaac and others with their classes, she needed to keep herself busy. The job paid well enough. Derek wasn't thrilled about her toiling with hunters, but the way she looked at it-you could either be against them or you could find a way to work with them even though you really wanted to rip their arms off. The money was good. Isaac disapproved understandingly. The Calaveras did burn down their home. Neither man changed her mind.

"So cruel," Isaac pouted. His lower lip jutted out some.

Melanie grinned and pull an old baby doll shirt over her head. She flipped its hood right side out and rearranged her chest. Boobs never did what you wanted them to. It's rather frustrating. She gave Isaac a kiss and then went downstairs where Derek was already up and coffee was brewed. The aroma was heavenly all the way down through her lungs.

Pouring a cup, she savored that first taste while looking out the back screen door. The morning breeze was warm. The grass smelled tangy and beautiful, her favorite kind of smell. Fresh and excitingly heart clenching. She was lucky to not have issues with allergies. It was going to be another hot day. Good thing she decided on shorts and sneakers today. Her style changed a lot. Less intimidation and more color, sort of. Lydia's idea more than hers. Melanie wasn't giving up the black leather jacket or her combat boots. New things were nice, but so were the old things.

Derek didn't speak much. There was the usual good morning and then he had to go. Isaac passed him on the way into the kitchen.

He spun her around and swept her half full cup out of her hand and put it on the counter with one smooth move. He spun her back into him with a few extra dance steps making her giggle. Tilting her chin up, he kissed her long and softly and deeply. Every morning was this sweet. He had that way of never letting her forget that they were together. Together and very married, though nobody would guess it. They never acted as such. As Stiles put it-they lived in the vomit inducing honeymoon phase, bile and all.

"Be careful today?" Isaac asked over her lips. He pressed his fingers between hers and their wedding rings clinked lightly.

"I'll see what I can do."

"I just don't want you coming back with a gunshot wound again." It was as bad as he made it sound. The wound had already halfway healed by the time she got home. But she would be much more careful next time. She wasn't invincible.

Melanie turned to the side and laughed aloud.

"That was an accident."

"It wasn't and you know it." His seriousness faded and he laughed too. "And, it's not funny."

"It was a little funny or at least the panic on your face was. Even Chris laughed."

"Chris is an idiot."

"He got shot too! Almost everyone got shot. The weapons were faulty." Melanie rolled her eyes, waving a him off.

"Just no getting shot," he reiterated.

Her eyes narrowed and she nodded. He nudged her head to the side with his own and kissed that small triscele there behind her ear. She sucked in a breath from the feathery touch on that sensitive spot.

"You truly are evil." She said. The last bits of her nightmare from the other night disintegrated with the morning.

Jackson startled awake and rolled out of bed onto the floor in the process. He felt over his stomach and other parts. No scales. He stumbled to the mirror nearby. Pressing his hands to his dresser, he relaxed. His eyes flashed blue, not reptilian. He let out a sigh of complete relief.

The same nightmare kept coming back almost every night. He was that thing again, the kanima, and his friends were dead. Unable to control it, he killed them, ripping his claws right through them. Each death was slow because of the paralyzing venom. More so, he knew he was doing it unlike before when Stiles and Scott were trying to tell him like the full blown dumbasses they were. This time he knew. Screaming and kicking on the inside, he could do anything to stop himself. He had no control over any of his actions.

Jackson's ears twitched as he heard Derek unlocking the front door downstairs. It was delivery day. Living in a bar was rather fantastic. He couldn't complain. Drinking was free and almost every night he could land a different woman. Well, if he wanted to that was.

Truth be told, he hadn't really been looking around for anyone. Everything was different now. And complicated. Being a werewolf was complicated just like Scott told him back in high school. It wasn't all that glorious. There were days when it was hell, but not all days were like that. The day he returned to this town was a day of hell. But there were days that he wished he could relive. The Fourth of July was one of those days.

Ms. McCall held a cookout. Stiles caught himself on fire. Scott and Derek were bickering again, reminding Jackson of the time when Scott and him were co-captains of the lacrosse team. Allison, Lydia and Danny were in the house gathering the other foods. Melanie and Aiden were having an arm wrestling match with Ethan, Erica, and Boyd for an audience. Cora was trying to put Stiles out. Strangely this was an ordinary family get together. This was the moment when he decided that they were just that. Family. The Sheriff arrived by the time the sun was all the way down and the fireworks were amazing. Everyone stopped in awe for them. That was a good day.

And then there was the bar. Sometimes there would be different kind of customers or rather those who were passing through there. Hunters. Werewolves. Other supernatural shit that thought this place was some sort of safe house. Maybe it was the name of the bar: Last Haven. That or it was the fact that two werewolves owned the place.

"Get your shit together," Jackson snapped at his reflection in the mirror.

"Bro!" Stiles called across the quad, coming up the chipped concrete stairs from the parking lot.

Allison and Lydia were sitting up on the three and a half foot wall near the arch which connected all three dorms together. Scott stood next to Allison. Lydia wore a pair of Audrey Hepburn sunglasses with a flowered, sky blue blouse and shorts. As always she looked like the classiest out of all of them. She really put them to shame. Even on her worst day.

Scott raised his hand all the way up in the air in greeting.

"Did I miss anything today?" Stiles asked.

"Nope. Mr. Ashcroft just gave a lecture on Dostoevsky." Scott replied.

"Eh, didn't he write about some guy lost in the desert?"

"Lost in Siberia. You know, that wintery tundra of a prison-like place. Worse than the desert in my opinion," Lydia piped up. She didn't look up from her crumpled up study guide. A sure sign of how much she'd been studying of late. Stiles could learn a thing or two. However, he didn't mind not studying. Winging it in class had its own way of working out. It turned out that professors were impressed with answers that came out of their students' asses. The creativity sparked a light of humor within them. Stiles was more than happy to contribute to that.

"Right. Yeah. What you said," he shrugged with even less care. He wasn't even carrying his bookbag.

"Are you ready for the exam Friday?" Scott asked

"I want to lie and say yes, but no." Stiles replied deadpanned.

Allison laughed. She couldn't help it. He had that way of hoping he'd skate by. They were all in that part of life at the moment. It was all a part of adjusting to the college life. They were getting used to it now and getting used to the weekends being used for either drunken fun at a frat house or movie night back home with study dates.

"So what's the occasion, commuter?" Lydia asked of his presence. He shot her a glare, regretting that some of his sarcasm and charming with had worn off on her.

"I didn't want to miss the bleeding chicken and under cooked vegetables at lunchtime." Stiles replied quickly, keeping up with her sarcasm.

She'd improved greatly in that area. It was no longer just sharp insulting with stares that could make you want to scratch your eyes out.

She cracked a smile at that. The food here at BHU was pretty disgusting. It was either overcooked or undercooked. Then there was their specialty- when the lovely chefs put out food that was four days old. Stiles was more than thankful he decided to commute.

He didn't tell them the real reason he came to campus. His hands shook in his pockets. He wanted to be close to his friends. He was exhausted, but showed little sign of it. The lack of sleep was achingly painful. He wasn't struggling to stay awake anymore. It was worse than that. Everything felt wired and alive. His eyelids felt like sandpaper with every blink.

Focusing on other things like school and his friends and his Dad kept him from trying to remember why he wasn't sleeping so well. Every time he tried to place it his head got foggy like when there was a word on the tip of his tongue and he just couldn't place it. He hoped it was just the mixture of schoolwork and working to keep dangerous supernatural goings-on out of Beacon Hills. Like usual, it was far too much to hope.

The transaction went smoothly down near the Mexican border for Chris and Melanie.

Melanie weaved in and out of sleep during the unbreathable hot rid. The back windows were down but the air was stagnant and hot. She was tempted to hang her head out the window, but she didn't want to hear dog jokes for the rest of the ride. Melanie twisted the black chopstick in her hair by the fox head end. It loosened from its tightness some. Small, wet tendrils clung to her temples and the back of her neck.

"Are you alright?" Chris asked, turning down the radio.

Melanie nodded. She didn't need to lie. He was like some Yoda. A mind hearer and a face reader also known as a parent. Nobody could successfully lie to one of them. The pack had three of them.

"Just didn't get very much good sleep."

"Bad dreams?"

"I guess." Melanie couldn't remember very much from her dreams. Trying only led her to drawing up a blank with a panicked gut clench. Like if she remembered it would be really bad, dangerously bad.

Once at the drop off point, Melanie stayed at the car. Her aviators didn't just block out the brightness of the sun but the dark circles under her eyes. She leaned back against the front of the dusty SUV with one leg propped up, keeping her balanced. The metal was scalding hot through her shorts.

The hunters they were selling to eyed her carefully. They were bulky fellows that looked like they could be professional weightlifters. One had shaggy hair and the other had a buzz cut. Buzz cut was obviously ex-marine. Melanie spotted the tattoo on his forearm.

Both of them looked mean. Melanie could hear them perfectly from twenty feet away. They were curious about her and extremely cautious since they'd never heard of her. Their nervousness only made her grin cockily. Having an air of mystery was fun. The air was dry and blistering and sometimes had sharp canines, but fun. Chris warned them courteously not to try anything with them. Melanie grinned wider. A part of her wanted them to try something. They had to know she wasn't an ordinary partner with Chris. Her fingers were twitching at a chance to get into a fight. Maybe it was just the restlessness. She sighed.

There was no fight and no shots were fired, but she and Chris did stop by a rundown burger shop in the desert on the way back.

"Two mega burgers extra rare," Melanie paused. "Actually you could probably not even cook them and it would be perfect. Pickles on the side. No fries, but I wouldn't mind coleslaw."

She smiled up at the waitress. Grease stains splattered her red and yellow uniform. Chris itched his nose and ordered next.

"A mega burger with fries."

The waitress smiled coyly down at him as she took their poorly laminated menus that were coming apart at the corners. Melanie's eyebrows perked up catching that.

"Oh man," Melanie whistled. Chris's eyebrows shot up curiously. "She has it for you."

She winked playfully and then continued with a foolish grin.

"And what is she, sixteen? Seventeen at best?"

"Melanie," Chris scorned.

"Hey!" she exclaimed defensively. "I don't blame her. It's difficult finding the hot older dad these days."

Chris shook his head embarrassed. Melanie only grinned wider.

"Hey, you made my list once. No shame in that." she shrugged.

"What's with the extremely rare order?" he asked, changing the subject immediately.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't bother cooking the burgers?"

"Eh, it's juicier. Not a big deal. We're meat eaters, remember?"

By we she meant werewolves, and he knew that. However, he'd never seen one crave red meat like this. Melanie had never been carnivorous. He couldn't help but worry that if this continued, would she move on to people? The thought was stupid and he pushed it away instantly.

The very same waitress came back to the table and gave them their food. Red juices soaked through the bottom of Melanie's burgers. She licked her lips. It smelled unbelievably good. The first bite nearly had her groaning happily. She'd never tasted anything so sweet and tender. Adding a pickle after every bite was even better. The coleslaw was a little too watery though.

Though the food wasn't half bad, she wasn't feeling to well five minutes after she finished. She lay her head back on the top of the booth. Deep breaths did nothing to qualm the nauseous swirl in her stomach. Her cheeks were stale and numbing in that way right before puking.

"I'll be right back," Melanie said. She dashed to the back of the place with her hands covering her mouth.

Chris paid the bill and left a generous tip. It wasn't because of the food. Melanie came back a couple of minutes later. She was still a little pallid green. She smirked at seeing the money on the table.

"Completely inappropriate," she snorted. She grabbed her aviators from the table and slid them on top of her head like a headband. "You might as well leave your number and ask if you can be her daddy."

Chris said nothing, but shuttered out a breath of discomfort, and the two of them left. Both of them were looking forward to getting home. Every trip left them feeling like that.

Melanie caught the teenage girl's face once she came to their table. The girl gaped at the large tip. She tucked her mousy brown hair behind her ear. Melanie stifled a pitchy giggle.

Deaton jolted, kneeing the bottom of his desk. He winced from the split second of sharp pain that shot through his leg. He closed his eyes for only a moment. It was long enough. His heart beat erratically in his chest. Getting up, he went to the bathroom across the hall and splashed some water across his face. He stared at himself in the mirror, tired and ragged.

Any ordinary person could blame the heat or insomnia or any other sleeping disorder that brought about this lack of sleep. Deaton knew better. This wasn't like that at all. Something was wrong. He didn't know what quite yet, but he was going to figure it out. None of this was right.

He ran his hand over his face just to be sure. The skin was smooth. He released a sigh of utter relief.

"-and he bursts out with this comment about that stupid horror movie." Lydia finished.

Allison and Scott laughed. They were holding hands not caring that they were sweaty. Lydia walked alongside Allison's other side as they all walked to class.

"What's going on?" Allison asked.

She stared over at a gathering of students. More and more were joining and the buzz of panic was growing. The three of them joined the other students. Some of them were pointing up at McGreggor Music Hall.

"Oh my god," Lydia breathed.

Allison gasped, holding a hand over her mouth. A girl stood on the ledge of the third floor. She was weeping and pleading as she inched farther away from the open window only five feet away from her. Her green sundress flowed in the wind.

"Scott." Allison turned to her boyfriend, but he was gone. She didn't even notice that he'd let go of her hand.

"Oh my god! Somebody is up there," A sorority girl shouted.

Both Allison and Lydia gasped as seeing Scott halfway hanging out the open window.

"Get away from me!" Screamed the ledge girl. Her face was reddened and streaked with tears. Her nails were dirty as she pressed her hands against the brick wall behind her, trying to grip it. She shook terribly with fright.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Scott said with raised hands of surrender. "I just want to help."

"You can't help me!" she scoffed and then let out a few short, hopeless sobs. "Nobody can help me."

"I don't believe that," Scott said gently.

"Get away!" She screamed. She inched farther away from him. Blood smeared against the wall. Her arms were cut up. It looked precise like somebody had done it or maybe that she had. "Nobody can save me. I tried."

"Whatever is wrong, you don't have to do this."

Sirens sounded in the distance. Three cop cars drove onto the scene. One of them came onto the grass and two officers came out. One held a megaphone in his hand. He spoke into it.

"STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE. DO NOT MOVE."

"Nobody can save me," she said again through sobs. She turned to look at Scott who was still reaching for her. His jaw shook. The desperation in her eyes was unmistakable. She was trying to get away. But from whom? Her next words chilled Scott dead cold. "Nobody can save you either."

She leaped off the ledge like jumping into a nice cool pool. A scream pierced the humid air and was followed by the sickening crunch of the girl hitting the sidewalk below. Scott still hung out the window, gripping the sill tightly while staring down at the remnants of the girl. The green sundress she wore was soaking up her blood, turning it dark red as blood pooled around her.

Below, Allison was holding Lydia who had her back turned to the scene. The redhead shook uncontrollably. Tears scaled down her rosy cheeks. Cops ushered all of the students back, yelling for them to go to class and that it was officially a crime scene. Nobody moved and even more students crowded around. News crews showed up, making even more chaos.

Scott came down and was swept up by the police who were demanding a statement from him. They asked him if he knew the girl. When he thought about it, the adrenaline finally wearing off, he did know her. The girl was in one of his classes-Chemistry II. They asked him other questions too. Were they friends? Why did he try to talk her down? Did she say anything before she jumped?

Scott kept shaking his head so much that he thought it was going to screw off. They let him go and he left campus, heading home that night. Allison was waiting for him on the porch with sad eyes. Whether you knew the person or not, seeing someone die right in front of you was still hard. Scott couldn't get what that girl said out of his head. Nobody can save me.

Melanie sat at the counter. The lights over the island were the only ones on in the kitchen. It was nearly four in the morning. She was on her third cup of coffee. A nagging, like an itch was grinding at her. That and she still didn't feel very well. She was beginning to wonder if it was the heat and not the food from earlier from the earlier today.

"Hey," came Isaac's husky voice. He stood behind her and kissed the side of her head.

Melanie rolled her shoulders back into him as he rubbed his thumbs into the soft flesh above her shoulder blades.

"What are you doing up?" he asked.

"Not tired." Her tone of voice was lie enough.

"Is that you talking or the caffeine?" He chuckled.

Melanie leaned back into him and let out a deep, cheek puffing sigh. She stuck to him like fly paper but didn't care. It felt good to be with him. Any time they spent apart she was wishing they were together whether curled up on the couch or out at Last Haven.

"How were classes today?" she asked diverting from his question.

"All classes after lunch were cancelled. A girl killed herself by jumping from the third floor of McGreggor Hall."

"Jesus," Melanie sighed horrified.

"Yeah. Now, why don't you come back to bed," he said.

"I could be persuaded." She stared up at him with narrow, yet daring eyes.

A sudden electricity surged through her. His hands moved down her back to her hips. She wiggled from the sensation he sent through her just by rubbing his thumbs in small circles.

"You're glowing," he said in her ear.

His voice was a low mumble of thunder. She loved thunder.

"You do have that effect don't you?" she playfully said, putting her hands over his.

He pulled her backwards off of the barstool and led her upstairs, leaving the cup of coffee on the island. She was nervous about what might happen if she closed her eyes, but she didn't tell anyone. She was still hoping that it was just bad sleep or something she ate or even stress. Isaac planted a kiss at the crook of her neck as they made it to the bedroom.

Sliding out of bed, she wandered to the attached bathroom. Isaac had fallen asleep a little while ago. She still couldn't allow herself to still being jittery about closing her eyes and all. She rinsed her face with the cool rush of water from the faucet. Isaac's steady breathing was soothing.

"You look so happy."

Melanie stood upright suddenly, making her back twinge some. A shaky breath escaped her mouth. That couldn't be who she thought it was.

"No. Not happening." Melanie gritted out.

Behind her, Seth leaned against the wall in the mirror. He pushed away and stepped closer to her. His breath on the back of her neck made her shudder.

"I always thought this tattoo of yours was peculiar," he commented. He trailed his index finger over the spot behind her ear. The sandpapery tickle made her twitch.

Melanie gripped the edges of the sink. The porcelain cracked and silver lines spiderwebbed under her hands. She was frozen. She couldn't scream or move though she wanted to do all of those things. He still had that cruel effect on her.

"You're very dead," Melanie snapped in a low growl.

"Am I?" He grabbed a handful of her hair, ripping her head back. Melanie whimpered. "How is this for dead?" His breath made the hair of her nose singe. The spaghetti strap of her tank top slipped from her shoulder.

Seth slammed her head forward against the mirror. The collision made a disgusting crunch. Melanie could feel the blood dripping down over her face instantly, tickling her temple and cheek. Glass sprinkled into her hair and the sink. Small bits were lodged in her head right at the hair line. Her right eye went fuzzy red.

"Ah!" Melanie gasped, shooting up in bed. Her head throbbed, making her cross-eyed.

Isaac sat in front of her and held her steadfast by the shoulders.

"Mel? Jesus!" he exclaimed.

Melanie reached up to her forehead. It bled from the corner of her forehead in her hair. Using the back of her hand, she wiped her cheek which was wet with blood just like from her dream. It was exactly like from her dream. The wound was already healing but the throbbing ache was taking a little longer. It was the exact same from her dream. Her heavy breathing slowed as she caught her breath. This couldn't have been coincidence.

Isaac ran to the bathroom and came back with a wet washcloth.

"What happened?" he asked.

He dabbed at the blood carefully. The scene played over and over in his head. She sat up, growled, waking him, and then turned and slammed her head against the bed frame, splitting her head open. What the hell was going on?

"Just a bad dream," Melanie mumbled through short, hindered breaths.

Isaac took her into his arms. She shook uncontrollably, repeating the same sentence over and over. Her fists were clenched tightly around handfuls of the blanket. He hadn't seen her like this in a very long time. She had that distant gaze in her eyes which meant that she wasn't really here. He hushed her and rocked back and forth.

Melanie squirmed in his arms until she got free and then ran for the bathroom, holding her stomach. The hideous sounds of puking echoed against the round walls of the toilet. Isaac's nose crinkled from the sour smell. What the hell did she eat? He couldn't tell and had to cover his mouth.

"We should get you to the hospital," Isaac said aloud.

"I'm fine. Healing, remember?"

"You just injured yourself in your sleep. You slept-hurt yourself. Let's not take chances," he said.

It was pointless arguing with him sometimes. He wasn't going to give up on this. Melanie could hear it in his voice. She came back and leaned in the doorway resigned.

"Fine. Just let me get dressed."

Melanie put on her shirt from the day before and some jeans. With a few quick twists her hair was up with her onyx black chopstick. Sprigs poked out here and there, but she was too tired to care. Isaac scooped up the car keys and guided her downstairs. She didn't put up a fuss. She was too busy trying to keep her eyes open.

They didn't wake Derek. They would tell him in the morning. It was probably some weird sleeping disorder anyway.

Melanie's headache was gone by the time they made it to the hospital. Melissa was at the nurse's station and everything was surprisingly quiet. The ER was never this quiet. Melissa looked up at them. The familiar dread filled her eyes. The kind when something wat terrorizing her kids.

"What happened?" She came around the desk to meet them.

Isaac opened his mouth but there wasn't a decent answer he could give her. He looked to Melanie for guidance, his eyebrows knitting together. She scoffed, her shoulders shrugging.

"He's freaking out over a bad dream," Melanie said.

"This dream wasn't ordinary." Isaac looked around for any potential listeners. "She split her head open against the head board while asleep."

Melissa looked back at Melanie. Her eyes were big saucers. Melanie sighed. She didn't want to worry, but now it was time to. Hearing Isaac say it that way was frightening. As she thought more and more about how it happened she remembered the dreams more clearly. Seth had done this to her. She didn't know how, but he was torturing her.

"I'm going to call Deaton, and we're going to run some tests. You're not looking so good." Melissa said.

"I feel great." Melanie leaned into Isaac who held her sleepy form up.

Her eyelids were so heavy and were watery from the bright fluorescent lights overhead. Melissa led them back to an empty room. Isaac guided his wife and they followed Melissa.

Melissa asked him to wait outside while she took some blood and did the tests. Neither Melanie nor Isaac argued. Blood pressure, cholesterol, all of those stupid tests were done. Even a few pointless ones. She did an ultrasound to look for masses. Melanie stared around with boredom. She breathed through her mouth because the smells of the room made her dizzy and sicker.

Melanie could hear Melissa's heart and it was beating painfully hard. She tried to lessen the quiet tension with a poor Arnold Schwarzenegger improv.

"It's not a tumor!" The attempt was terrible but Melissa still laughed.

Melanie blamed the lack of sleep. Delirium was definitely setting in. Her eyelids felt puffy and a yawn was coming out every couple of minutes. It was almost six in the morning. It was light out the window and mist could be seen settling outside, dewing up the grass.

Melissa returned with paperwork and a small white paper bag ten minutes after finishing the tests. Melanie had been reduced to looking at the pathetic landscape painting on the wall. Biting down on her tongue with the greatest concentration, she was trying to straighten it. A frown deepened across Melissa's face. Melanie turned at the click of the door closing. Her head tilted to the side.

"What's wrong?" Melanie asked.

Melissa shook her head and swallowed hard. That was the look of bad news that or she swallowed wrong.

Melanie started pacing back and forth, a sign of over thinking. Several thoughts were moving through her mind.

"I do have tumor, don't I?" Melanie asked. She bit her whole bottom lips and looked past Melissa to the door.

With the healing rate of a werewolf it was probably pretty rare to get a tumor or outright unheard of. But, it couldn't be completely impossible. Melanie gulped. That was the reason for the bad dreams and the bumps and scrapes that followed as well as her restlessness. She regretted agreeing to make Isaac wait outside now. She wanted more than anything to have him at her side. This wasn't a time to be alone.

"Oh god no!" Melissa exclaimed, taking her by the shoulders. "It's nothing like that."

Melanie leaned into her, letting her head drop onto her shoulders. Melissa rubbed her back probably trying to be comforting. It only worked a little. It wasn't a tumor, but that didn't mean it wasn't any number of other things that could kill her.

Questions were still racing through her head. What would she tell Isaac and Derek? Oh Isaac…

How does one fight something like this? How does a werewolf survive this? Day by day? That was it. Day by day. It was a sad and cliché way to look at life, but that would be the new motto. She would take in every moment more carefully and linger on the good memories longer.

Melissa cut through Melanie's thoughts right then.

"You're not sick. Well, that's not true." Melissa said.

Melanie stared at her with the utmost confusion. Her lips parted a little.

"The kind of sickness you have lasts nine months give or take. There's not really any cure for it either."

Melanie still looked at her confused. Nine months. Then suddenly it dawned, and she stumbled back a few steps horrified and shaking her head furiously.

"Baby girl, you're pregnant." Melissa confirmed.

"I'm what?!" Melanie exclaimed, her voice reaching up to shrill heights. Her glimmering eyes enlarged wildly in shock.

Melissa held out a black and white photo. Melanie looked at it, but did everything to not touch it as if it was diseased. She looked back at Melissa and then back down at the ultrasound photo again. There was a red circle around a tiny fuzzy mass.

"It's right there," Melissa said. "I'm just as shocked as you."

"One, I'm barely twenty-one. Two, you said it wasn't possible!" Melanie exclaimed in a mixture of panic and anger. She pressed a hand to her racing heart.

"I know!"

Melanie nibbled on her fingernails in a panic. So it wasn't a tumor. No, something else was growing inside of her entirely. Shakily, she scratched at the back of her neck. All of her nervous ticks were taking effect.

"Your blood pressure is high though. You need to take it easy and get plenty of rest," Melissa said.

"That's going to be a problem," Melanie interjected.

"Which is why I have some sedatives to help you." Melissa held up the small white paper bag.

Melanie shook her head and backed away quickly.

"I'm not taking jack. Not after tonight. Isaac senses something is wrong and I'm starting to as well," Melanie said.

Melissa didn't argue, especially not with werewolves. As sarcastically sweet as Melanie could be, her charm could switch off quickly into spiteful aggression. On the amount of sleep they both seemed to lack, she wasn't going to press her. Not right now in this state.

Deaton showed up a couple minutes later. Melanie was fidgety. Her eyebrows twitched and she sniffled. Deaton didn't look much better. Isaac had never seen him this disheveled. His shirt was frazzled half tucked in and half out. The dark brown medical bag he brought with him sat on the night stand. He rubbed his eyes.

"Melissa says you aren't sleeping well," he said.

"Nightmares. No point in denying them now."

Isaac sat with her now. He was trying to soothe her jitters. She couldn't look directly at him. He'd know what was up immediately if she did.

"The kind where I get my head smashed against a bathroom mirror and wake up with a gash in my head," Melanie continued.

"It's a good thing you have that natural ability to heal then," he commented listless

He rummaged through his bags, stopping and pausing a few times having lost his train of thought.

"You're having them too." Melanie said slowly.

Deaton stopped and turned. He gave a small nod.

The white hallways were cold, and bright. Gurneys and medical equipment lined the walls. Goosebumps rose up over Stiles's arms, the kind that hurt. He hated hospitals. They were the worst places to come to die. Ugly, dank, lifeless. It smelled even worse. It was too clean. If death had a smell it was this. Because this was the smell after cleaning up the blood and the body. Pneumonia and bleach. Stiles knew this because he'd spent too much time in a hospital and it wasn't always he had his fair share of injuires. It was with his mom when she had been sick.

The linoleum under his bare feet made his knees ache. He didn't move down any of the four hallways around him. Something felt off. He knew what it was. This isn't real, he thought gravely. This is a dream. And if he went down any of the hallways something bad was going to happen.

He could feel it as it twisted through his insides. He held up his hands and started counting his fingers. One, two, three, four, five. He licked his lips and counted the others. One, two, three, four, five, six…

"This is a dream."

Though he'd said it low, the words echoed down the hallways. He spun around. Lights began to flicker.

"Stiles…" The whisper made him shudder.

"Mom?"

An earth searing scream came at him from every hallway. He fell to his knees. His eardrums felt ready to burst.

He shook awake, grabbing his ears, holding them tight but the screaming didn't stop. The sheets wound around his legs as he writhed around. Rolling side to side, he fell over the edge and hit the floor with a thud.

"Ugh," he groaned. His ears were ringing loudly.

He sat and leaned back against the side of his bed. His hands were moist. A strange tickle made his jaw itch. Reaching up, he touched his ear. A string of blood lined the side of his face. Blood smeared across his palms.

He sighed. This was certainly one of those signs. The kind that marked the beginning of something bad coming. This was really bad. He should've guessed it after hearing Scott's story about the jumper. Now with the dreams? They had to be connected, but he didn't know how.

He didn't go back to sleep. Didn't even lay back down. He washed up his face and changed into fresh clothes. After turning on his desk lamp, he pushed aside the books he should've been studying from and woke up his laptop. A click of the mousepad pulled up the browser window and his fingers skittered across the keyboard: nightmares trying to kill me. Seven hundred thousand results. Stiles yawned and scratched behind his ear as he blinked and stretched away the rest of his grogginess. This was going to call for coffee and a lot of it.

Melanie didn't tell anybody about the pregnancy, not yet. It was surprising that Isaac didn't already know. But as it turned out, super hearing wasn't everything. The pack met up on Thursday. It was the start of Fall Break. Danny and Ethan weren't coming home for the short holiday, but Aiden had gone to visit his twin.

Sitting around the kitchen at the McCall house, nobody really talked. It had been a long while since everyone was together. Melissa was at work.

Melanie helped herself to most of the leftovers in the fridge without bothering to nuke them in the microwave. Food never tasted as good once they got re-nuked. Isaac and Scott were horsing around. Stiles had his nose stuffed in Anna Karenina. Cora sat on the counter watching him, entertained by his apparent struggle with the literature. Allison and Lydia sat at the table with Melanie. The three of them were chatting about school. Melanie enjoyed hearing them talk about it. She always thought she would go to college. Her parents would've wanted her to and it probably would've been Ivy League. Doing what she was doing now though was alright. Weapons merchandising was more fun and she loved having adventure. Life was less boring. All of that was going to change real soon now. There was no choice.

But for right now, everything was fine. The news could wait until a better time.

Derek showed up after a little while. Melanie had finished off the contents from Taco Tuesday without putting any of them together for a taco. Allison sucked on a spoon, having helped out with the refried beans. Every bite had been dipped into the tub of sour cream.

"Okay, great. Everyone's here," Stiles said, blinking rapidly and closing the book. "That book was giving me a headache. How the hell do you pronounce some of these names?"

Derek rolled his eyes.

"Who here has been having nightmares?" he asked, figuring he might as well get to the point.

Melanie's hand was the first to shoot up. She almost flinched as a primal vision of Seth's face crossed her mind. She woke up with a dark purple bruise in the shape of a hand on her forearm this morning. Now it was a brownish color.

Cora followed, avoiding eye contact, and then Scott and the others until every hand was up including Stiles's.

"Great!" he exclaimed with much sarcasm. "My assholery is not in vain. I've been doing research since I woke up with ringing ears and blood coming out of them. I thought to myself 'That's weird.'."

Melanie snorted as she picked her teeth with her dull nails. Stiles continued, ignoring her.

"Anyway, I found thousands of possibilities. There are so many names that I found. Some of it was bullshit, but all of it circled around one common thing. Dreams. There's sandman, dreamweaver, and my personal favorite that came up, Freddy Krueger. All in all, I think there's a dreamwalker hanging out in our town," Stiles explained. He scratched his forehead in his usual fidgety manner.

Melanie gulped and licked her lips as a specific memory returned. Scott looked back at her and met her eyes. Both of them shared the same thought. It was a secret that never left that disgusting, sewage hell of a fighting ring they'd been held hostage in. Only a few choice people knew about it. Derek didn't even know. But she and Scott, remembering the dreamwalker that had planted that one dream into Scott, they knew. So did Chris. And, so did Deaton.

Stiles continued when nobody spoke.

"Now, I don't think dreamwalkers are evil, but I don't think they're good either. They have that ability to make you dream about you deepest desire. They can also amplify your worst fears. That's how dreams work," Stiles was using his hands now to help explain. "Dreams are used to help us sort our shit out. It could be anxiety or fear or anything that your brain can't deal with aloud when you're awake. It could be bringing to light deep emotions that you don't divulge. It just helps you or at least it's supposed to," Stiles finished.

"This might be your most solid theory yet," Derek admitted. He crossed his arms over his chest. The muscles of his arms bulged through his sleeves.

Stiles squinted at Derek wondering if he was imagining him saying from the lack of sleep. He turned to Cora who was also surprised. Derek never complimented Stiles. In fact, since Stiles and Cora came out in the open about their relationship his insults had increased in amount and ferocity.

Even Scott and Lydia were surprised. They're eyebrows rose with a bitten down grin.

"W-was that a-a compliment?" Stiles stuttered. He itched behind his ear.

Derek frowned.

"Shut up." Derek growled.

"And the moment is gone, but never forgotten." Stiles said. He drew a circle with his finger over his chest. "It'll be there in my heart."

The alpha's glare grew even more intense. Isaac smirked. Derek was going to punch him.

"I'm going to go," Melanie cut in. She let out a belch from deep down and then stood, reaching her arms up in a cat stretch.

"I don't know if that's a good idea." Stiles said. "By the looks of all of us, nobody has gotten more than maybe five hours of sleep out of this whole week. It's getting worse. I've got a hearing problem right now because my mom keeps trying to talk to me in my sleep. I think my Dad is going to commit me soon."

His face contorted and he shivered at that.

"I'm going to talk to everybody's favorite vet," Melanie replied. Stiles nodded. It was actually a good idea. Deaton usually knew things they didn't. He was the guys who filled in the missing pieces.

"I'll go with." Scott offered. "I need to ask him about work hours during break too."

Melanie made her way over to Isaac and pushed up on her toes to give him a kiss. Her body pressed to his and she pulled the car keys from his pocket. She pulled away, not wanting to, and brushed her nose against his before settling back down on her feet.

"I'll be home later." She said and then she and Scott were gone.

"Where's that leave us?" Allison asked. "If these problems are in our dreams, what do we do?"

"Don't fall asleep?" Isaac suggested. The stupidity of the comment earned him a look from Lydia and Cora. He shrugged.

Stiles started humming right then. It was the lullaby from Nightmare on Elm Street. All heads turned slowly on him. He looked up from watching his fingers tap on the table and jumped at all of the blank and creeped out stares.

"What?" He asked cluelessly.

Isaac looked at Cora. Her right eye squinted a little.

"How the hell do you date that?" he exclaimed.

"Caution. A lot of caution." She replied through clenched teeth without taking her eye off of Stiles.

"What?" Stile repeated. It came out as a whine.

"You are deeply disturbed," Isaac said.

"Yeah, well the help I need, you can't find."

Isaac nodded his head to the side. Stiles wasn't completely wrong. They all needed help.

"I should probably inform my Dad about all of this. Keep him in the loop," Allison said.

"I'll come with," Cora offered with a shrug. "I'm bored, and I need a reason to stay awake."

"Sure. Lydia?" Allison looked to the redhead.

"I'll help Stiles out. He's slipping into episodes of delirium it seems."

"We should all stay in teams if we can. Keep each other awake or at least take turns making sure the other doesn't get killed in their sleep." Derek said.

"Is that a thing, like in the movie?" Isaac asked.

"I don't know." Stiles drew a complete blank. He didn't know how people died. The story of the girl who jumped was all over campus. It was hard to decipher what parts were true.

Chris breathed in and out heavily. Sweat beaded over his forehead. The low growl was close by. Claws marks zigzagged on the walls. He wanted to call out just to make sure Allison was okay, but that would give both of them away. There was a whizz of an arrow and then another. A canine whine followed. One dog down. Why were they here?

"Chris?" His heart skipped a beat. No, he thought. It couldn't be. "Chris, it doesn't have to be this way. I didn't come back to kill you. You guys are my family. I just want your help. You're going to help me kill Scott and Derek. You know where they are."

"That is not happening," Allison grounded out.

Chris rounded the corner. His Desert Eagle lay a couple feet off, having been lost in the midst of running and hiding. It was cocked and the safety off. Kate held Allison by the throat. The similarity in how Kate held his daughter and Peter held her was uncanny.

"Let her go," he demanded.

His shaky voice wasn't as strong as he had hoped. Kate laughed softly.

"Can't do that, Chris."

Scars from where Peter ripped her throat out stood out like white, jagged zebra stripes.

"Don't make me do it. I hate that it's come to this," she said sadly.

"You're dead!" Chris shouted.

"Not me," Kate said. Her voice rang cold.

The features of her face shifted into something much more monstrous than Chris had ever seen in his life. Sharp fangs extended from her canines and she hissed at her brother. Her face darkened in pigment to a purplish with strange marking like that of a feline. Her nails hardened into claws, piercing his daughter's ivory throat.

Allison kept quiet, not giving an inch. Kate peered at her with an impressed grin.

"She's not even scared anymore, Chris. I bet you're so proud." she said.

She pressed her claws into Allison's jugular even more. Droplets of blood trickled down over Allison's chest. Her jaw tensed from the pain. Her pulse was strong.

Chris could see a plan in his daughter's eyes. She was going to fight. Chris's fingers shook on the gun trigger.

"What's that I hear?" Kate said right then. "Is your pulse quickening?"

Chris eyed the pistol a couple feet away. She yanked on Allison who glared back at her out of the corner of her eyes.

"Go to hell, Kate," Chris spat.

"Wrong answer." Kate ripped her hand across her niece's soft throat. Blood gushed out like rushing water from a fountain, painting the entire front of the white sundress she was wearing with her leather jacket.

"NO!" Chris shouted.

Allison gasped for air, holding her hands over her throat. Her body lurched from the growing loss of fluids. Blood slipped through the cracks of her fingers. She collapsed to the floor, lifeless and pale. He dove for the pistol and pulled the trigger without a second thought. Two loud blasts of gunshot rang through the apartment and a loud scream penetrated his thoughts. The scream didn't belong to his sister.

"Dad!"

"Dad!"

Chris lay on the floor with his firearm in his tight grip. Cora leaned against the wall, panting painfully. Smears of blood followed down the wall to where she sat. There were two bullet wounds in the fem-wolf. In her shoulder and arm. They weren't life threatening and had already pushed their way out. She groaned, leaning her head back and looking up at the ceiling.

Chris dropped the gun and scooted away from it. Allison held Cora's shoulder. She could feel her skin pulling together and regenerating underneath her palm.

"I-" Chris tried. He looked back at the gun. His heart knocked hard against his chest. He couldn't look away from the two of them, his mouth still gaping open. He would never hurt Cora. She was a good girl. Yet there she was bleeding and he had no good explanation. This wasn't his fault. It couldn't be. He didn't even know until he'd heard Allison scream. This couldn't be his fault.

"Hello?" Scott called out as he and Melanie walked into the animal clinic through the back entrance.

There was no answer. Melanie fixed her hair chopstick. A few tendrils came loose in a sudden burst of wind when they parked. A quick and expert twirl and it was back up again. She gave the little fox head at the top a twist. A few hairs were pinching and pulling, but relaxed. Scott walked ahead of her, checking the kennel. The animals were quiet. They usually went crazy when Scott or any other werewolf entered the clinic.

The quiet of the place was unsettling, the only sound being their careful footsteps and breathing. Scott looked at her. She shook her head completely unsure about this. They should turn back, but didn't.

Her eyes moved past Scott. She tensed. Scott turned back around and froze. Deaton stared straight at them except that he wasn't. His eyes were glassy. At his sides, his fingers twitched. A trickle of sweat dripped from his brow.

Melanie's heart began racing. The last time she saw eyes like that, Jennifer Blake was standing over her bloody body. Her claws extended and her eyes glowed cobalt.

"Deaton?" Scott said.

Deaton's head twitched to the side unnaturally. The air was thick. Melanie gulped.

"Scott," she said cautiously. She didn't take her eyes off of the vet. "We should go."

Before they could turn and exit the way they came, Deaton's hand flew up and his fingers flexed wide. The hallway rippled before their eyes and a gust of wind sent both Scott and Melanie flying back into the door, knocking the air out of their lungs and denting the metal from the sheer force.

Melanie laid there for a second, letting the coolness of the tile floor soothe her cheek. A sharp pain shot through her shoulder. It was dislocated. She pushed her arm back into its socket with a quick jerk. The popping sound was more disturbing than the pain.

The idea of falling asleep right here was pretty tempting, though they'd just been attacked. She got up into a crouch slower than intended. Scott was already up with his hand out.

"Deaton," Scott said. His eyes glowed red.

This was the first time Deaton had ever used any sort of power like this. Darach power. But, he wasn't a darach. He was an emissary. He had never hurt any of them. Scott had never seen anything like it. The vet told them once before that he had ties to druids.

Deaton held both hands up.

"DEATON!" Scott hollered, the alpha in him straining to the surface.

Deaton opened his mouth and a deafening sound brought Melanie to her knees, holding her hands to her ears. Scott wrenched forward and then reared back, gritting his teeth. The sound was brain splitting. In a last attempt, Scott ran at the man. Deaton swung at him, but missed. Scott moved fast, dipping low and tackled him to the floor. His head smacked against the hard floor, rendering him unconscious.

Scott looked back at Melanie who looked to him, catching what wits she had left.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"That was just as bad as Lydia so I think so," she replied, ringing a finger in her ear. "Is he okay?"

Scott leaned over his boss. Though it was slow and steady, his chest moved up and down.

"Yeah. He's just knocked out."

Together, he and Melanie pulled Deaton into the nearest exam room and hoisted him up onto the exam table. He already had a goose egg forming at the back of his head.

Melanie touched her stomach. It was gurgling and threatening an upchuck session. You are not going to puke, she thought.

"It's safe to say he was having a bad dream, right? He didn't go all fists of windy fury on us for the hell of it. We've never even seen him do something like that either." Melanie said.

"I don't know. His eyes were open and he looked right at us," Scott said, shaking his head. He leaned back against the counter.

"It's possible that if you are lacking sleep for more than three days you can fall asleep and not even see the difference. And it's certainly possible to sleep with your eyes wide open." Scott said.

She looked away right then and let out a breath. She picked at her cuticles. There was something else, but Scott could see her struggling trying to find the words. Whatever she was trying to say was difficult. She swallowed hard, reliving whatever it was.

"It happened to Isaac. He doesn't remember and that's okay. I didn't tell him. I was able to get him back to bed." She dropped her hands to her side and closed her eyes for a moment. "A couple days ago I was coming from the bathroom. He grabbed me by the throat and slammed me to the wall. He kept yelling "I will never be like you.". He was talking about his Dad."

Melanie thought about Isaac. He was nothing like his father. He was too sweet and good. Granted, he had those moments when he was agitated and beyond pissed off, but so did she and they usually share the same target: Stiles. Or anyone else who didn't use common sense. It was nothing that caused him to go off the rails. He'd sooner protect each of them before ever thinking of hurting them.

Scott didn't say anything, but he wanted to. Isaac had always had troubles dealing with his father. It was no secret, but the beta didn't talk about it much if he could help it. Living with the memory of that abuse wasn't easy. A parent was supposed to protect you and help you grow, not stick you in the freezer in the basement.

Scott wanted to tell her that maybe the two of them shouldn't be near each other right now. They both had two very serious fears that were coming to the surface. Then again, all of them did. Scott didn't share his latest nightmares. He couldn't bear to. But he wished he could help his pack members somehow instead of just standing by and watching them come unhinged.

"So it could seriously be a dreamwalker?" he asked.

"I've never heard of this happening. When we talked to the one, he seemed civil, but it made me wonder…" Melanie replied.

"Would he come back?" Scott finished her thought.

Melanie nodded.

"It wouldn't be too farfetched. This is Beacon Hills. Home of the supernaturally inclined to kill you kind of people." She said.

Deaton stirred and groaned and reached up, rubbing his head. He winced at touching the lump there.

"Are you awake or are not awake?" Melanie asked, backing towards the door.

"Am I-What happened?" Deaton asked. He groaned as he sat up. There was two of everything for a few seconds. He blinked until his vision cleared and he only saw one version of Melanie and Scott.

"Oh nothing," Melanie said in her unique chipper way.

"You tried to kill us." Scott said.

Deaton got up and rubbed the back of his head. A knot sat at the back of it perfectly.

"Tell us good doctor, what are your dreams about lately?" Melanie quipped. There was no smile hinting that she was joking. Her arms were crossed over her chest.

Before Deaton responded, he caught the bruising under her fingers that tapped against her bicep. Both she and Scott were worn and dead. The only thing keeping them awake was the frightening thought of falling asleep. A whole new brand of horror lay behind the lids of their eyes.

"Myself to be honest." Deaton replied hoarsely. "There was a reason that I tried to step away from the part of my life that was tied to my druid roots."

This piqued Melanie's curiosity. Scott however, suddenly looked nervous.

"As you know, I have unique abilities." Deaton said.

"Are we afraid of turning into Jennifer?" Melanie smirked cruelly.

Scott glared at her. She gave shrug basically saying, so what? It was a dare too. A dare for him to challenge her. She was in a mood. The kind that said she didn't give a single shit. It was rare to see that come out in her. It was usually Cora who acted like so. Nonetheless, he dropped it.

"As it just so happens," Deaton chuckled lightly. Melanie's restlessness didn't affect him. She reminded him of his sister, Marin. "Whatever haunts you must be worse with how cranky you are."

Melanie stuck her tongue out at the man and then smiled.

"We all have our demons and some asshole is getting them to kick our ass." Her face fell and her shoulders slumped.

"Mel and I had a thought when Stiles was sharing his theory on what's happening. The deaths around town. The lack of sleep. And then the time you messed with my dreams." Scott said.

"A dreamwalker." Deaton said. "I've been thinking the samething, but you're wondering if it might be the same one that we hired a couple years ago."

"If it is, he picked one hell of a place to nest." Melanie said. "This place draws in the crazies."

"Things are going to get a lot worse if he isn't stopped," Deaton said. He paced a few steps.

They hadn't even touched the tip of this iceberg and already this town was starting to burn up like hell again.

"Is it too much to ask for a break from all of this bullshit?" Melanie asked. She looked down at her toes. Lydia was right. They needed to be repainted.

Scott didn't say anything, but he agreed with her. The attacks on his friends and the town were never-ending. Deaton continued.

"Since we are dealing with a dreamwalker who is using people's worst nightmares against them, those who are suffering will get to a point where they are asleep with their eyes open. Some will not even realize they're dreaming. He will get them to hurt themselves or worse, other people by making them feel like they're protecting themselves from whatever they believe are after them in their dreams." Deaton explained. It was exactly what Stiles told them which was all the confirmation they needed.

"So it is a modern day Freddy!" Melanie exclaimed. "That's exciting-well, deathly terrifying, but exciting!"

The last part dripped with sarcasm. Her head tipped to the side sleepily. She kept thinking about Isaac and his nightmares. Her hand moved to her stomach subconsciously. It wasn't firm yet. He wasn't going to be a bad father. He didn't have it in him. She believed that wholeheartedly.

"I'm afraid it's much worse than that."

"Dreams have a certain energy and that is what drives a dreamwalker. If ours is manipulating them by coercing people's worst nightmares then it's going to be near impossible to kill him."

Last Haven was only half full this evening. The majority of the gang had gotten together. Isaac, Melanie, Jackson and Cora were taking up their usual corner booth. Customers never sat there. Jackson booted them when they did, and after a while people learned that no one sat there but the pack. Stiles and Allison were playing darts. She was winning of course. Every once in a while she'd miss the bullseye on purpose. Lydia helped Jackson behind the bar. She did that if she got bored. A few other townies were around, but the college crowd was small for a Friday night. Derek sat with Chris at the bar across from Lydia. The neck of a half full bottle of rum was in her hand. The three of them were in a heated conversation.

"We're going to die." Melanie sighed tiredly, and let her head fall to the side onto Isaac's shoulder.

"No, we're not." Derek said aloud without turning to look at them.

Melanie sneered, wrinkling her nose at him. When did he get Scott's optimism?

"If we don't fix this, I'M going to kill somebody," Melanie snapped.

Cora slid one of her shots of whiskey to her. Melanie wrinkled her nose and shook her head. The smell made her stomach churn. Cora shrugged and down the shot. Nobody thought twice about the refusal. She wasn't a heavy drinker anyway. There were celebratory moments, but she couldn't get drunk anyway, and even if she could it would be bad for her condition. Melanie guessed that Cora enjoyed the taste which was the reason she drank.

Chris snorted and Stiles smirked at her remark. None of them were doing well, but they all put up their best brave faces.

"My Dad says that they're considering putting out a curfew. The police think that the suicides and murders are being led by a serial killer," Stiles said. He threw his last dart. It landed nowhere near the board, but thudded softly in the wooden doorframe to the back room.

There had been five more deaths since the green sundress girl jumped. A senior at BHU killed his fraternity brother after Fall Break ended and had no recollection of doing it. He told the police that he hadn't slept in three days and suddenly blacked out. Doctors concluded that the murder occurred due to lack of sleep. His consciousness shut off. He did it in his sleep. And, that was a one way trip to Eichen.

Other deaths included a girl stabbing herself in the side of neck with a pen in the library and another was a drowning in the toilet. All of it was unexplainable to the police since the murders appeared to have no connection or pattern with each other. The only connection was the dreamwalker and that wasn't something that any of the pack could tell the police. That would get anyone thrown into Eichen.

"If only it was that normal," Cora said dryly.

Isaac nudged Melanie and she shook awake, staring around tiredly. She snuggled deeper into Isaac and sighed. She lost track of how long she had been struggling to stay awake. It all felt like one long blur.

"It's exhausting isn't it?"

Melanie's blood ran cold. She stiffened. Cora threw another shot back and licked her lips free of spiced alcohol. Melanie turned her head. Allison laughed at Stiles who hung his head at his terrible aim for the dart board. Derek didn't turn away from his conversation. Nobody noticed the malicious voice but her. It was right there in her ear. She stared straight ahead refusing to look. If she looked her fear would be confirmed.

"You're trying to escape, but nobody can hear you." His voice was velvety. He growled out the next part. "You're mine. You'll never escape that."

Melanie slammed her elbow back and nailed her assailant in the nose. The crunch was disgusting. Melanie spun out of her seat and stood with her knees bent, ready to pounce. The muscles in her thighs and calves were tense with strength.

"Seth," She ground out.

The blonde held his hand over his nose. Blood gushed for a moment, but stopped as it healed. His steely eyes were as haunting as ever. Looking him over, Melanie didn't a single inch of him rotting this time.

"I've missed you too, baby." He smiled, thrilled at seeing this animosity come out of her.

Melanie released a low growl of displeasure. Her eyes flashed cobalt. She could feel her nails harden and elongate. The shift was only slight. Keeping anchored to Isaac helped keep her wolf side in check and in control. She clung tightly to her happiest memories of him as she felt hot with fury.

"Stay away from us!" She yelled.

Still, nobody around her moved or even acknowledged the dangerous spat she was having with her long dead ex. It was as if the fight was one reality and everybody else was a different one.

"Us?" Seth chuckled. "You don't mean that poor little man-child, do you?"

A man sitting near the door turned on his barstool to look at them, changing the whole scene and startling Melanie for a moment. He held a full glass of beer to his lips for a sip. Tribal tattoos crawled over his arms. They moved and swam like they were alive. A strange sense of familiarity fell over Melanie. She'd seen him somewhere before, but she couldn't remember where exactly. He looked to be the same age as Derek. He smirked at her as if enthralled by all of this. He wanted a fight. It only made Melanie angrier.

"You know what I mean." Melanie hissed at Seth. She pressed her hand to her stomach. "I won't let you hurt her."

"Mmmm, I would never." Seth wiped his nose with his sweatshirt sleeve. Doing so only smeared the blood across his cheek. His broken nose was healed. His deadly blue eyes narrowed. "You have that baby and then I'll kill you and take care of her myself. She'll grow up and be strong."

"No!" Melanie screamed. She ran at him and jumped, tackling him to the hardwood floor. He smacked his head and cackled. Melanie gritted her teeth as her hands snaked around his throat squeezing the life out of him. "I won't let you! Derek killed you the first time, but I'm going to make sure you stay dead, you piece of shit."

He cackled harder among choking bits of air.

"Melanie," he wheezed.

She squeezed tighter. He was like a zit and this one was going to permanently disappear and not even leave a scar.

"MELANIE!"

"MELANIE!"

The roar shook Melanie awake. On the floor, she had Chris by the throat. His face was a deadly shade of purple, and the veins on his temple up over his forehead pulsed violently. A couple steps away, Allison was cradling a broken nose with a bar rag. Scott was beside her. Everyone stared at her terrified and bewildered. Isaac wrapped his arms around Melanie and pulled her off of him, keeping her hands pinned to her side. Melanie struggled but gave in eventually.

Her eyes watered with tears. She looked at Derek who was the only one who hadn't moved from his seat. He swallowed back a pointless shot of rum and then got up.

"Come on," he said quietly to her. He gave a light tug and Isaac let go of her, allowing him to take his beta. He scooped her up like she was a child all over again and carried her out without another word. Isaac and Cora followed after immediately.

The two random men at the end of the bar stared at all of them. Their eyebrows were raised in suspicion.

"She's had a little bit too much to drink," Jackson said tersely, snapping their attention away. He looked at Allison. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. Scott helped Chris stand.

"I think the better question at this moment is Melanie going to be okay?"

"Us?" Stiles questioned. "What was she talking about when she said us?"

Nearly everybody stared at Stiles blankly. Lydia gave him the best 'you're a dumbass' look.

"Wait a minute…" Stiles said, his eyes widened with realization.

Derek didn't take her to the hospital. He did call Melissa however. She met them at the clinic. She wasn't even changed out of her scrubs. Melanie locked herself in an exam room. Deaton was trying to talk her down from outside. She paced around the room. Bouts of shouting erupted out of her every couple of minutes. Isaac sat in a chair, rocking with his hand propped up and clasped tightly on his knees. Derek leaned back against the wall silently, watching.

"Is she okay?" Melissa asked panicked.

"You tell us," Isaac spat angrily.

Melissa paused and then shifted uneasily.

"You know," she said. Her eyes softened with relief from whatever secret she'd been holding finally being known.

"Know what!? That she's losing her god damned mind? We all are." Isaac exploded.

"Isaac…" Melissa touched his arm. She face scrunched with confusion. "She didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?" he snapped.

"She's pregnant."

A great silence bubbled around them. Derek's head shot at the two of them, his jaw dropping little by little. Isaac's phone rang right then and both of them jumped from the thick tension.

Isaac pulled out his phone and answered, not taking his eyes from Melissa for a second.

"Lydia! Clam down." Isaac said. He huffed after a few minutes. He hung up.

Melissa waited expectantly. Isaac shoved his phone in his pocket and huffed some more.

"Scott just had a break and attacked Parrish," he said.

"The deputy!?" Melissa exclaimed.

"He came in looking at IDs and Scott attacked him. Parrish has him in a holding cell." Isaac sighed. He brushed pass Melissa. "I need to talk to my wife."

Derek was still leaning against the wall.

"Deaton, we could break the window and get to her at any time. She's not unreachable," Derek put simply. "Just let her go for now."

Deaton mumbled under his breath about it not being a good idea. Isaac came up and busted the glass window of the door with his elbow, turned the lock on the inside, and went inside.

"Or not," Derek said.

Derek still didn't move. He took the back seat to all of this. His own nightmares were keeping him at a distance. Every time he closed his eyes he was surrounded by his pack in a pile at his feet, dead and at his hands. He couldn't allow himself to get to close to anyone right now. If he did, who knows what would happen. If he lost it like Melanie did then people would be dead.

Melanie quit pacing and stared at him. She gulped and began biting at her nails.

"Quit." Isaac said colder than intended. Melanie pulled her fingers from her mouth and fidgeted.

She looked away from him unable to imagine what he was thinking now. He probably didn't want this. They were too young. All of this was too fast. Her heart pounded in her ears with panic.

"Is it true?" he asked softly. He inched around the exam table to her. She stuttered out a breath as she struggled for words. A single word rather. It never came. The best she could manage was a feeble nod.

Isaac breathed out a quiet laugh of relief. Melanie's eyes watered. He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. His thumbs rubbed gently over her cheekbones. He pulled back out of breath and kissed her forehead. He held her in a tight embrace. He was happy, and Melanie was glad she never told him that she wasn't supposed to be able to get pregnant.

"I'm scared," she whispered. "I don't want to lose her."

Isaac pulled away and slouched low to meet her eyes.

"We won't." He pressed his forehead to hers. She bit her lower lip still unsure.

"Isaac," Melanie shook her head, "with everything-"

"We're going to stop this." he promised her.

She looked to Derek for guidance, but he was sucked into his head like he'd been for a long while now. Though she didn't say anything, she was very worried. Quiet with Derek wasn't good, especially at a time like this.

"Oh no," Melanie groaned. She held her stomach and turned sharply away from Isaac, puking in the nearby trash bin. He wrinkled his nose at the stench. He pulled back her hair, tickling her neck with the tender touches of gathering it all and then rubbed her back soothingly.

"Deaton," Melanie called between heaves. "We need to catch that asshole."

She puked some more. Deaton gave a nod while grimacing from the gagging sounds coming out of the tiny fem-wolf.

"Oh god, I hate you," she groaned, reaching back and slapping Isaac.

"What did I do?!" he exclaimed. "Oh wait…right." He scratched the back of his head shamefully.

After the sickness passed, Melissa checked her vitals. Everything was copasetic. Well, for the most part. Melanie's eyes were sunken in and dark from sleepiness.

"Go home. If you fall asleep be sure that someone can wake you up," Deaton sighed.

Derek nodded in agreement, rejoining the conversation. He didn't leave with Isaac, Melanie and Melissa. Melanie paused before leaving and turned.

"I know what he looks like." She looked to Deaton. "It's him. I don't know why he's doing it, but it's him. He came back. I saw him."

"I was afraid of these repercussions."

"He's going to kill us or at least get us to kill ourselves and others." Her voice cracked.

"Go home," Deaton said gently.

Isaac led her out, holding her around the waist. She leaned against him. Now that her secret was out she felt a little more at ease.

Derek waited until they were out of the building.

"Repercussions?" he asked curiously, his eyes flashing ominously red. The vet sighed. It was time to tell the truth. Deaton started at the beginning, when he called Melanie, seeking her help. He called her because she understood the necessity. Though he regretted all of it terribly every day.

There was a growl. He couldn't see it, but it was so close he could feel its rank breath on the back of his neck. Jordan Parrish reached for his holster, but his authorized weapon wasn't there. He was wearing his normal clothes for sleeping, grey sweatpants. The air breezed across him. He spun around at hearing the growl again.

"Wake up," it said in a throaty whisper from the doorway. Flaming orange eyes stared at him. "Somebody knows…"

Parrish jolted awake and was muddled immediately. He stood in the bathroom in front of the mirror except that he didn't remember coming in here. He had been at his desk moments before. Looking up after splashing some water over his face, he gasped at his reflection. Fiery orange eyes stared back at him with purpose and strength and fury.

"What's wrong with me," the deputy croaked barely. His throat was drier than the Sahara and on fire.

He blinked a few times. The glow faded to steel grey. He rubbed his eyes. Still no glow. I'm just tired, I'm seeing things, he thought.

"Don't come down here. Stay up there with Danny and Ethan. Trust me, okay?" Lydia said insistently. Aiden grumbled on the other end of the line of the phone. "It's getting real bad. I don't want anything happening to you."

He argued with her, and she rolled her eyes. Nothing he said was going to convince her. If some of them could stay away from all of this then that would be less of a chance of one of them coming up dead.

"There is nothing you can do. Don't come down here," she repeated, growing more agitated.

Aiden caved with a guilt tripping sigh that had no effect on her.

"Well that saves some of us," Lydia told Allison after the phone call ended. The two of them were in soft short and boyfriend t-shirts and tucked into Lydia's bed. The TV was on and to no surprise a chick-flick was on. It had been a long while since they'd had a girl's sleepover, Melanie and Cora included. Usually slumber parties were supposed to be fun, but this wasn't one of those times, sadly.

Real life sucked. And so did this no sleeping thing.

"Stiles, go home," Sheriff Stilinksi said, obviously irritated by his son's latest tactics.

"I can't. I'm supposed to be with my sleeping buddy. My sleeping buddy is in jail." Stiles's sarcasm was in top form.

He sat on the bench outside the holding cell that contained Scott.

"I'm not in jail," Scott huffed. "I'm just…yeah, I'm in jail."

The Sheriff sighed, blinking a few times, trying to gather his wits about him. These two were normally a pain, but in the current state of things they were even more troublesome.

"You cannot stay here." he pointed at his son.

"You're not the boss of me anymore." Stiles sputtered out. The words came tumbling out so fast he didn't stand a chance in stopping them.

The Sheriff's eyebrows raised and his arms crossed over his chest. Scott sucked in a breath, the kind that said 'you're in deep shit'. He averted his eyes. And, Stiles knew he was. His lips pursed together in deep regret and he wobbled on his seat awkwardly.

"I'm tired," he defended meekly.

"Get." The Sheriff ordered firmly, using the parent voice. The one that made any damned adult sink back into the depths of their scolded eight year old self. Stiles shrank down, but he didn't budged.

"Dad," he said. Desperation rang clear in his voice. "I can't. Things are really bad. You have to trust me."

"How bad?"

"If I'm not here and he falls asleep, he could seriously hurt himself or somebody else. Vice versa too."

The Sheriff softened. Having seen a lot over the last few years, he believed him without a second thought. It was still difficult to wrap his head around and most times he didn't even bother trying, but he didn't ignore it. He trusted his son.

"I'm checking on you two every couple of hours." He said, resigned. Stiles nodded. That was okay. It was probably a good idea actually. Three is better than two.

Isaac sat at the end of the four post bed with his head in his hands. Melanie slept peacefully for what seemed like the first time in forever. He was still in shock from tonight's news. They were pregnant. Technically, she was pregnant, but they were having a baby. It was really happening. He always wanted his own family, but there was that nagging fear.

"What's wrong, son?"

"Nothing," Isaac replied coldly.

"Excuse me? Watch your tone with me, boy!"

"Leave me alone!" Isaac shouted. "You're dead."

"Don't I know it." Mr. Lahey said low and angry, inches from Isaac's face.

Isaac lurched to the side. Mr. Lahey's face was rotting with maggots coming out of a hole in his cheek. He still wore the same thing from the night he was killed; that ugly brown sweater though it bore rips that resembled claw marks from the kanima ripping into his flesh. Isaac could never hate Jackson because of that.

"But it's okay. I know that I will live on in you."

Those last two words echoed off the walls of Isaac's mind. He shook his head in denial. That man couldn't rule his life anymore. Mr. Lahey chuckled. Isaac looked back at Melanie. She turned over, but didn't wake.

"Don't forget," Mr. Lahey snarled. He grabbed Isaac by the throat and squeezed. Isaac was frozen in fear. "You are my son."

"NO!" Isaac bellowed. He swatted his father's threatening grip away and grabbed him by the throat, slamming him to the floor.

A terrified screamed came from him. A feminine scream. One that didn't belong to his father at all.

Melanie stared up at him, out of breath, from under him. Her chest moved fast as she sucked in choked sobs. Tears filled her eyes. She tried blinking them away, but failed. A few streaked past her temples into her hair.

"Isaac, it's me. Wake up." she sniffled. She reached to touch his cheek.

Isaac let go and stumbled back, looking at his hands that were now completely foreign to him. He had throttled her, somebody he loved more than life itself. Melanie sat up on her elbows. The bruising was already forming where he thought he grabbed his bastard father. Isaac shook his head. He was becoming his father and not even seeing it.

"Isaac-" she started. She coughed.

Isaac fled from the bedroom and out of the house. Melanie called after him hoarsely, but he was gone. The night swallowed him up.

Melanie cradled her stomach, sitting on the floor, full on sobbing. Derek came stumbling into the room. He stared around until he stopped at her throat and then sighed sympathetically.

Jackson succumbed to cleaning the entire bar. He and Derek didn't even do that for inspection. There was a perfect amount of disgust and homely feeling that a bar should have, but he needed to stay busy. Watching Melanie go crazy left him rattled. If he fell as asleep he could end up doing that or worse to anyone. So cleaning seemed like a good option. There was a lot of that to do.

Cora agreed to help out of boredom, but he knew she was struggling too. She didn't talk about her dreams.

A rap at the main door made him jump. Melanie stood there with no shoes in shorts and an old Beacon Hills High Lacrosse hoodie that stopped just before the hem of her shorts.

"What are you doing here?" Jackson asked.

"Isaac had a nightmare and bolted," she said stuffily.

Past her hair that sat over her shoulders, he could see blackish marks. Bruising.

"Did he do this!?" he exclaimed. His eyes flashed cobalt.

"He was asleep!" Melanie defended, flashing hers back at him.

"Jesus." Jackson replied.

"I don't know where he is. I don't know where Derek is. Derek came in right after he ran and then took off too. I didn't want to be alone."

Cora came from the back with a crate in her hands. She set it on the bar and hurried over to Melanie.

"Oh my god," she said, brushing Melanie's hair back. "Isaac?"

"I don't know where he is. I'm afraid of what he'll do to himself."

Jackson had never seen Melanie like this. She'd thrown herself into a panic before, but never like this. Her frantic eyes faintly glowed fuchsia. Jackson knew he'd be lying if he said that he never wanted his eyes to do that. To know that you have someone meant for you and that it actually is forever. He envied Isaac and her.

After calming her down, she called Stiles to let him know the situation. She told Melanie to stay with Jackson for the night. She and Derek were going to meet up.

Cora met Derek at the Hale house. Derek handed her one of Isaac's shoes. Her nose wrinkled and she tossed it aside. She did not need that gruesome thing to catch that wolfboy's scent. She lurched a little gagging a bit.

"Let's try to find him before sun up," Derek said.

They found him sooner than they expected hiding at the nemeton. His body was slumped over the stump and he lay on his arm like it was a pillow. The peaceful look on his face as he slept, letting out soft breaths was relieving. He wasn't out killing people or injuring himself. The power of the nemeton actually did something good this time.

"Let's get him back to the house," Derek said.

Cora nodded and pulled one of Isaac's arms around her neck. With her shortness his feet were dragging, but he was so far asleep that he didn't wake. She didn't know how Isaac even found the dreaded tree stump or how she and Derek did. They were focusing on finding the beta, not that thing. What was important was that they found him. Melanie was going to be relieved.

Isaac's feet were muddy and gross when they tucked him into bed. He could deal with that when he woke up. Jackson drove Melanie back to the house, but Derek refused to let her be in the same room with him. He didn't want to risk them hurting one another again.

Scott was released from his cell in the morning. Stiles lay on the bench asleep. Scott smacked the bottom of his shoe that hung off the bench and Stiles rolled off the bench to the concrete ground.

Stiles went to see his Dad while Scott gathered his effect from the front desk which wasn't much-his cell phone, exact change for a candy bar, a note from Allison, and his keys.

"Is everything okay, Scott?" Parrish questioned him.

"I'm just not sleeping well," Scott replied.

"Hm."

On his way back to the Sheriff's office, Scott thought he heard Parrish say me neither. He watched the deputy wander to his desk. Scott checked his cell phone. There were multiple texts and missed calls. After saying bye to Stiles he made his way out of the station. His mom was waiting out in the parking lot for him. She waved awkwardly as he came to the car.

"Did they find Isaac?" he asked as soon as he was in the passenger seat.

"Yes, and in the strangest place," she replied, turning the wheel and pulling out of the lot.

She dropped him off at Last Haven and went to the hospital to start her shift. She was doing a double today. A curfew was finally put out on BHU campus. Security guards were escorting students after hours and unless you were going home, they recommended that weekend parties be forbidden until the culprit was caught.

Jackson and Cora were still cleaning up the bar. The usual customers sat at the far end of the bar. Isaac and Derek weren't here, but Lydia sat with Melanie in the usual booth. Melanie was describing something.

"He is muscular, like ridiculously so. He has tribal tattoos all over his arms. They come alive whenever he does what he does. His hair is sandy and short and he's scruffy. Whenever he uses or does whatever he does his eyes turns neon green, like a glow stick." Melanie's fingers tapped on the table top as she searched for more detail in her head. She shook her head and shrugged that was all she could manage for right now from when she met the dreamwalker in person and from the glimpse she caught the other night.

Lydia's hands moved across a large sketchpad. With her double major in math and physics she also had an art minor. She said it was so she had something fun to do on the side. Scott had to hand it to her though, she managed all of it on top of a social life. It was all a breeze to her.

Scott sat down next to Melanie.

"Where's the moron?" Melanie asked.

"He is going to campus. The library is massive. He thinks he might be able to find something." Scott replied. "Allison went with him."

Melanie nodded and yawned.

"Do you know how Isaac is?"

"I'm fine."

All heads turned. Isaac was making his way over to them. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as if they were tied to his sides.

With one hard shove, Scott was on the floor and Melanie was jumping over him to get to Isaac. Isaac chuckled as he embraced her. She let out a deep sigh as she pressed her head to his chest.

"Ow." Scott grumbled. He got up and pretended to dust himself off and then sat back down, glaring all the while. "But yeah, I'm fine."

Isaac tilted her face with his fingers under her chin. It was so he could see her neck.

"I wanted to apologize in person," he said quietly.

"We're okay. What about you?" she asked. She smiled softly to reassure him.

His fingers brushed over her bruised, soft skin. Melanie forced herself not to flinch. She knew that he was never going to forgive himself for what he'd done. No amount of convincing would change his mind. She took his hand went upstairs.

Jackson followed them with his eyes.

"Don't worry so much," Cora said. She was loading bottles of beer into the fridge below the bar. "You'll get wrinkles."

"Are you ever afraid of your past coming back to get you?" he asked her.

"What do you mean?" She paused what she was doing.

Jackson was quiet for a moment longer. He looked over at Lydia. What he did to Lydia still haunted him and left him with enough guilt to last a lifetime and then some.

"Nothing," he replied.

Cora didn't press him and went pack to stocking the fridge. Jackson looked at Lydia once more. He was still surprised every time he saw her. She had changed so much. The intelligent woman was not the queen bee from high school. She was this strong, powerful and loyal young woman.

Lydia stared at her sketch with such focus. Jackson didn't know she could draw. There were a lot of things he didn't know apparently. Like Aiden. He didn't know Aiden, but it wasn't hard to tell that Aiden put her first. He really cared about her. And from what little bit Scott did tell him about the former alpha, he was impressed. That wasn't an easy feat. Jackson was glad that Lydia had somebody who put her first. She deserved to have that even if it did hurt him a little bit each time. She deserved happiness.

He tucked his bar rag in his back pocket and looked to the stairs. He could hear the married couple upstairs in his small apartment, but it was only in mumbles. He couldn't hear anything they spoke about.

"I feel better," Isaac told Melanie. He was just as astounded as she was. "Derek said they found me by the nemeton. I don't know how I got there or why I was there. All I know is that I got the best night's sleep since all of this started."

Melanie's eyes narrowed confused.

"On the ground?" she snorted. "Well, if I would've known I would've told Derek to get you a dog house."

He stuck nose up at her. All Melanie could do was laugh. This small bit of relief felt good. The terrible tension that had her body locked up and aching constantly lately diminished some.

Her eyes wandered over Isaac. He did look better. The dark circles under his eyes lessened. Color returned to his features and his crankiness dissipated. He was healthy. The sight was something to behold. She inhaled deeply, the air shuddering and bit her lower lip.

"Mel," he grumbled. She looked up, meeting his icy blues. His hands moved to rest at her waist.

"Hm?" She was off in dreamy thoughts of him.

Her fingers twitched where they were resting on his forearms. There was that energized current that surged softly through him. Electrical and hot. The kind that sent a yearning through a person making their entire body thrum deliciously. He took a half step forward closing the remaining space between them.

"You know," she said, staring at his chest, imagining the creases of muscle beneath his shirt. "Hormones sky-rocket during pregnancy."

She sighed and quivered a little as he caressed up along her jawline. His hand settled at the nape of her neck and in her hair. He tugged it lightly and she tilted her head back. The feathery brushes of his fingers alone were driving her wild. When he kissed her that sent her from floating to flying. His arm slipped around her and he pulled her close, lifting her enough that her toes skimmed the ground. One of her flip-flops slipped off. Melanie's breath hitched and she giggled against his lips.

"It would be rude to take advantage," he half groaned, pressing her to the nearby wall.

"It would be cruel if you didn't," she retorted. Isaac jerked her a little making her squeak.

Downstairs, Jackson growled and huffed.

"What now?" Cora huffed. She wiped her forehead.

Jackson's eyes closed with great irritation. Right now was one time he wished his hearing was so good. He didn't like hearing Melanie and Isaac having sex and in his room no less.

"Those two…" he growled. " I can fucking hear them."

"Then don't listen." Cora suggested.

Jackson sneered.

"Alright. I'm out of here," Cora stated clapping her hands together at a job restlessly done. "I'm going to go grab Stiles."

Scott gave a half wave as she left. Lydia nodded, but it was more at her sketch.

"Derek, I'm telling you there isn't any known way to capture this guy. It's like trying capturing fog with your bare hands," Deaton exasperated. "He doesn't play by the same rules we do. He doesn't have any rules."

Derek growled impatiently. The sun had gone down not long ago. Another day passed with zero results. The two were in the vet's office. Derek returned after finding Isaac. Deaton's desk was a mess of papers from his time spent researching for a solution to finding this nightmare killer.

"I do not want my pack members to start coming up dead," Derek barked.

"Nobody does."

Derek wrung his hands over his head and through his mess of hair. Every breath he took felt like a heavy weight rising and lowering in his chest. The weight of his own fear was burying him. With no solution on the horizon, he was realizing that he wouldn't be able to stay. After Melanie's moment at the bar and then Isaac last night, he didn't want to accidentally kill his own pack. It was hard to accept that he was useless currently, but he was nothing more than a danger.

"You need to take care of them. Help them, please," Derek said low.

"I will," Deaton said.

Derek stared off for a moment. Deaton knew that look very well. Laura had the same one before she and Derek fled town after the fire. A look of regret and heartache was there in his eyes.

"You're leaving." Deaton stated.

"It's safer that way. After seeing what the others are capable of and then my own nightmares…I don't want to put anyone in danger. Just tell them I'll return when it's safe. They're not going to understand, but it's better if I'm away. With all of this power and responsibility I know that there are times I have to take a step back. This is one of those times."

Derek walked out of animal clinic. A burst of sun flooded into the waiting room briefly before the door closed.

Deaton picked up the phone and dialed Melanie.

"What do you mean he left?" Melanie asked.

There was no trace of anger or fear or any emotion really. If Derek left then he had a viable reason probably. She couldn't be too upset for that. In fact, she was surprised that she hadn't thought of doing so. Scott wasn't going to feel the same way that's for sure.

Isaac could hear every word where he lay beside her with his arm over her. His head was tilted so that his ear was aligned with her cell phone. His features furrowed with a boggled frown.

Explaining this to Scott was going to be fun. Not. It was going to be hell. There were would be the flash of wrath followed by insults and degradation because that's how Scott threw temper tantrums sometimes. And he threw them a lot of Derek and his reasoning for something.

After the call, they got dressed and went downstairs. Jackson gave them a knowing glare as they sat down. Isaac grinned even more than he already was, happy to piss him off. The bruising around Melanie's neck was nearly gone and looked like nothing more than a trick from shadow and light. Plus her hair over shoulders shielded it.

Scott and Lydia still sat at the booth but the regulars were gone. Melanie rubbed her stomach. She could smell food cooking in the kitchen. Jackson only used it for himself and not to serve customers. Her nostrils flared with a deep inhale. Burgers.

"Can I have one?" she asked him.

"Yeah, sure. I put them on the grill not long ago." Jackson replied with a shrug.

"Please don't fully cook it," she pled with a groan. She licked her lips.

Her lower lip jutted and he looked at her strangely. She couldn't explain her red meat diet of late but figured it had something to do with the pregnancy. Her stomach already started to show with the smallest bump. Jackson shook his like she was crazy. She frowned a little.

Isaac nudged her and the two of them sat down with Scott and Lydia. Jackson joined them shortly with both his and Melanie's food. She grinned like a fat kid getting a milkshake and chowed down. Juices spilled from the corners of her mouth, but she didn't care. As she always said, being ladylike was an option she didn't take very often.

"So, bad news," she said between bites. Isaac looked down at the table. His nervous give-away was always to stare downward whether at his shoes or whatever surface happened to be in his line of vision. He just avoided eye contact. He didn't want to see that shameful look in people's eyes.

Scott caught his look and looked to Melanie sharply.

"Derek's gone," Melanie said.

Lydia wasn't surprised by the news, but Scott was. He was surprised enough for everyone.

"What? What do you mean gone?" Scott asked. His voice got a little pitchy.

"He doesn't trust himself or haven't you noticed the way he's taken the backseat on this one," Lydia said.

"You knew he was leaving?" Isaac asked. He stole a fry from Melanie's plate. Her burger had already been devoured.

"Yeah. He told Chris and me the other night. He just doesn't want to chance hurting any of us," Lydia replied.

"And you're not bothered?" Scott asked, still bewildered.

He looked at Melanie and Isaac hoping for back-up. Melanie was just as calm and from the look of Isaac, he was taking her lead.

"If he thinks this is for the best then we accept it. We're down an alpha and a beta, but we'll make do," Lydia said. She sounded more adult than usual.

"What beta? Cora?" Melanie asked. Her face scrunched together, like a Shar-Pei.

The four of them stared at her seriously and deadpanned. Melanie shook her head and looked at Isaac for an explanation. He just looked down at her tummy still not saying a word.

"Me? Because I'm pregnant? No, that's not an excuse," she argued.

"Pregnant is excuse enough since you aren't worrying over just your life now," Lydia said.

Melanie huffed. She was tossed out of the fight without a chance to fight. Not even Jackson was arguing for her, and he loved getting up everyone's ass by agreeing with her on any situation. What a crock, Melanie thought with a grumble. She took an angry bite off a fry.

Stiles tossed a book aside. The entire round table was covered with stacks of books. They ranged from film to art to science and psychology. He had a headache pulsating at the back of his head and on his temple. All of the information was the same. It was all just given in different sentence arrangements. His stomach grumbled and he groaned. Skipping dinner was a stupid idea.

` He closed the latest book and tossed it aside, knocking over a couple of empty energy drink cans. Reaching his arms up over his head, he stretched and then got up. I need another boost, he thought.

He left his bookbag at the table with the stacks of books and grabbed his wallet and then walked down to the campus quick store. The air outside was cool and nice. After grabbing four RedBulls, a bottle of water and a couple snacks, which actually meant he had an armful of crap. A girl was paying for her stuff in front of him. She had several more energy drinks and those 5-hour energy pills.

"Seems like I'm not the only one who's going to be up all night," Stiles quipped, giving a friendly smile.

The girl looked back and smiled back feebly. A faint blush rose in her pallid cheeks. Her eyes were ghostly, void of any real life like she was dead. The woman behind the counter handed her bag to her. It was obvious that she wanted to be anywhere but here. Stiles recognized the girl just barely. He'd seen her around campus a few times, though she wasn't in any of his classes. She was a sorority girl. Her nightmares were visible across her features, along the prominence of her cheekbones, the way she dressed in baggy clothes. She was struggling.

She gave him one last glimpse as she walked out the door. The look was pleading as if she wanted to tell him something. She didn't and hurried out of the store like she was being chased. The cashier gave aa hateful glare after Stiles dumped his contents onto the counter. He put his student ID card on the counter and grinned sheepishly. He'd barely spent anything from his account. Every student started out with a hundred dollars on their ID card on top of their meal plane. Now seemed like a good time to get some good use out of it.

His phone vibrated, making him jump. He pulled it out from his pocket and fumbled to look at it. Cora was calling. Her ID photo was the two of them. He held her in his arms from behind, and of course she wasn't smiling, but damn was she beautiful. He slid his finger across the screen to unlock the phone.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" The confusion trumped the terseness she tried to carry over.

"Getting refueled…" he trailed off. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the library," she said. "But you aren't. Why aren't you at the library. You said you'd be here."

"Whoa, calm down. I'm on my way back." Stiles tucked his ID back in his wallet and grabbed his bag of goodies, leaving the store.

He sped walk back to the library. He downed a can of RedBull along the walk. The librarian gave him a shameful look over the top of her book as he came speeding into the library and nearly tripped on the carpet. The look reminded him of Mr. Harris. She didn't like him and he could figure out why. He gave her a timid wave as he turned to go up the stairs.

Cora and Allison were sitting at his table upstairs. The library was packed. Bloodshot-eyed students were occupying their time with studying and assignments. Professors' deadlines with midterms were all that was driving them. Allison sifted through the mess on the tabletop. Stiles held up his grocery bag with a grin.

"I was hungry." He blinked rapidly. Cora punched him in the shoulder.

"You two have a distorted relationship," Allison said with a sigh. "Can we leave?"

"Uh, yeah," Stiles replied, rubbing his shoulder. Cora wrapped him in a hug, closing her eyes tightly before letting go. Stiles kissed the top of her head, soothing her worries.

He knew Cora was just scared. She overacted in violent ways. Stiles didn't get mad about it. He got overly sarcastic and pessimistic when he was scared. They were a strange dynamic, but they worked. Stiles loved the way they worked. There was never a day that she didn't surprise him in one way or another.

Students at other tables nearby stared with their hands paused midsentence on their laptops and/or notebooks. Stiles's head dropped and he grimaced from embarrassment. He gathered the books that were his books and stuffed them in his bookbag then slung the one good strap of the worn out thing over his shoulder and followed them out of the library.

The parking lot was dark out back of the building. Stiles and Cora made sure that Allison got back to her car before going to the jeep and following her back to Beacon Hills. It was nearly midnight when Cora and Stiles walked into the loft.

"Have I ever said how glad I am that you have your own place?" Stiles yawned. He dropped his bookbag by the door.

The light from the streetlamp outside stretched across the floor. The renovations were minimal and almost done. The bedroom was finished and the bathroom was almost there. She wants to put a study upstairs which would contain everything a normal study would plus all of the extra supernatural stuff. This place lacked all of the bareness that Derek left it with.

"Every single time," Cora replied with a soft laugh.

"Mmmm, just checking," he said with playful, yet narrowed eyes.

He wrapped his arms around her and leaned on her, laying his chin on her shoulder. Though she could support his full weight, he didn't give it to her. Her cool, slender fingers grazed his cheek.

"Let's get some rest," she said.

Stiles's stiffened and pulled away.

"I'm not tired."

"Stiles-" she tried. He shook his head.

"I don't want to." He said quietly.

Cora's eyes softened. She took his hands and pulled him forward. He was hesitant but caved with a loud sigh.

"You haven't told me a lot about your mom." She said.

Stiles fingers curled in her grasp. His face hardened with strong discomfort. This subject was one that no one brought, not even Scott. She continued carefully. She didn't want him to shut her out, but she wanted to be a part of his life. All of it. And, she'd never wanted anything like that before.

"It's okay. I just need you to know that I'm here. Okay?" She reassured him with a light hand squeeze.

Losing parents was one of the few things they shared in common. Nobody should have that in common. It's sad and morbid.

Cora let go and made her way toward the bedroom. If he wasn't going to try and sleep, she was. Maybe he would change his mind in a little while.

"God, I'm bored." Cora sat up on her elbows. He pillows flattened under the pressure some.

"You're more often than not bored," Stiles said plainly. He till sat at his laptop.

Cora inhaled deeply, looking at the analog clock.

"It's nearly five in the morning," she whined. "Come to bed, now."

Stiles swiveled around in the creaky office chair.

"I am resisting your demanding charms." He protested as if it would ward her off.

Cora's eyebrow arched. The small, tired grin on Stiles's face quickly left. He gulped trying to swallow the words back. He surrendered with a sneer and stretched, getting up.

"You just want my body," he joked amidst a yawn.

"Oh baby," she said unamused, though it was partially true. She did well at dampening her emotions. Her poker face was always on point. She gave her best Patrick Swayze finger wag. The one from Dirty Dancing. This wasn't the first time she used this 'come hither' motion on him.

Stiles playfully scowled, but didn't move from where he stood. Now he was playing with her. She looked at him from head to toe and back. He was a mess. His hair was wild and sticking out every which way, obviously not brushed. He tousled it, scratching his head. The hem of his shirt rose enough for her to catch a glimpse of his stomach and the dip of toned muscle at his hips that created a V. He really didn't have to try all that hard to arouse her, but she would never tell him that.

He took one step and then a shadow tackled him across the room. The dark figure moved too quickly for Cora to get a good enough glimpse.

"Stiles!" Cora screamed.

She shoved the covers back and tumbled to the floor, scrambling to get to him. The mystery attacker spun around on her and growled, scaring her back. Cora's eyes widened and she shook her head. The attacker was a werewolf and the werewolf was her brother. His eyes were glowing more viciously than usual and blood dripped from his mouth. The hair at the sides of his face was longer and darker, wrapping the whole way under his chin. His claws were longer and sharper and black. Even the pigment of his skin was darker, like Deucalion's was when he shifted into his main alpha form. Derek was more animal than human.

"No! Leave him alone!" she yelled. "Derek, no!"

She pulled on his arm, but was too weak to pull him off of her boyfriend. He growled and snapped at her with his sharp teeth, wolf's teeth. Tears blurred her vision. Derek flung her backwards with a swing of his arm.

"Cora…" Stiles croaked. His voice was raspy from choking up blood. "Run."

Derek grinned, but it was creepy, evil. He was taking pleasure in this. Cora's lip quivered. She was helpless to save Stiles. Her brother was killing her light. He was going to leave her in darkness again.

"Derek no," she sobbed.

Derek turned his attention back to Stiles. The movement was mechanical. Stiles's was barely breathing. One of his lungs collapsed from the tackle. Cora could hear the struggle to breathe. His heart was slowing while hers beat faster and faster. She covered her mouth. Derek dug his hand down, plowing right through Stiles's chest.

"NO!" Cora shot up, scooting up over her pillow, knocking her back against the headboard and cradling her knees to her chest.

Stiles startled awaken beside her, turning over and getting tangled in the sheets. He rubbed his eyes and then looked at her sideways. He rubbed her ankle and over the top of her foot soothingly.

"Hey," he said in a gravelly whisper. The sound shook Cora from her dazed state. Hair hung in her face.

She fell over, leaning on him. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. He pulled her hair out of her face. Cora inhaled deeply, keeping his scent for a good long second before breathing out. Her heart lessened its painful hammering against the walls of her chest.

"What was it about?" he asked, meaning the nightmare.

Cora didn't reply at first.

"I'm not afraid of somebody coming after me," she replied. That was all she said.

Stiles rubbed small circles over her shoulder blade. He knew what she was talking about. His dreams weren't about anyone coming after him either, not really. It was just him sitting in that hospital room or him wandering around the endless halls. This was hitting the breaking point for everyone.

"Are you asleep?" Lydia's voice droned.

"Obviously not," Melanie said in the same tone.

She stayed with ginger and Allison. Scott was with Isaac. He promised to watch Isaac and make sure that he didn't end up hurting himself.

Melanie sat up and crawled to the end of the bed. Peeking over the edge, Allison was snoring softly on the floor. She gaped down at her jealously.

"I don't know how the hell she does it," Melanie mumbled. She sat back and stared around the dark room. "I need food."

She got up and made her way for the bedroom door in her black Of Verona t-shirt and grey shorts.

"Wait," Lydia hissed, padding after her in her periwinkle, silk shorts and tank pajama set.

The two of them wandered downstairs to the kitchen. Melanie hoisted herself up onto the island counter as Lydia went through the cabinets and fridge.

"Do you have any asparagus? Ohhh and peanut butter!" Melanie said.

Dipping the green stick in the jar was a great vision in her head. Her mouth watered. She was beginning to drool. Lydia didn't question her cravings. She found both foods and even brought out Slim Jims and jar of cookie dough and milk. The cookie dough was mostly for her.

"How is it?" Lydia asked, motioning to her belly. There wasn't a bump yet. She wouldn't start showing for another month and a half.

Melanie shrugged.

"Melissa says I'm okay. I feel sick most of the time, but it's lessening. I think my body is getting used to it."

Lydia snorted and rolled her eyes.

"What?" Melanie asked.

"You're so calm. We're all killing each other, chasing this mystery walker or whatever, and you're pregnant and calm. You should be freaking out the most."

Melanie finished her piece of asparagus, smiling. For some reason that felt like a compliment even though it probably wasn't. Lydia didn't give compliments. Melanie accepted it as one anyway.

"Isaac is scared enough for the both of us." Melanie went into that thoughtful daze she got into when retracing memories. "I am scared though."

She didn't mean about the dreamwalker. She'd seen him a couple times already. He was making himself more and more visible. By the time she did see him in her dreams it was too late and she was waking up.

"I'm terrified," she continued. Picking up a Slim Jim, she unwrapped it and stirred it in the peanut butter jar. "I am not supposed to be able to get pregnant."

Lydia paused with her spoon in her mouth with a doe-eyed stare. Melanie smiled softly, looking down at her belly. Now another person knew about what a beautiful miracle this truly was. She sighed contently and ate the peanut butter dipped Slim Jim whole. The spicy and creamy mix was unbelievably delicious.

"It's not even been gendered and it's already in danger," Melanie said faintly.

"It'll be okay. Stiles is all over this one and so is Deaton." Lydia said, trying to ease her mind. Melanie smiled again. It wasn't happy or hopeful. Just a front.

"What about you?" Melanie asked.

"Me?" she said confused. "What about me?"

"You're usually at the front for research. You prefer that to joining the fight."

Lydia stabbed at the cookie dough. Thin crescents wounds marked the food aggressively.

"I've been nauseaus lately. Like seriously."

"Are you-"

"No!" Lydia gasped before Melanie could finish. "It's that feeling I get before the call of death."

That was the only way Lydia could describe. It was like hearing a call meant only for her and she wished so much that it wasn't. Melanie didn't know what that felt like and she hoped to never find out. She'd seen Lydia keel forward and scream before. It's haunting and the sound never leaves you. She shivered.

"It's worse now. There are so many in jeopardy of dying and I feel sick and weak all the time. Half the time I'm struggling not to pass out. I can feel all of them."

Melanie gave a sympathetic glance. Going through something like that was unimaginable. The same could be said about being a werewolf. Lydia had no idea how hard it was to keep her anger in check and make sure she didn't lose control. It was a little easier with Isaac as her anchor, but still. There were times that she still wanted to rip everything in sight apart.

"We're all fucked up," Melanie said with her usual bluntness.

Lydia held her spoon up in agreement. They ate a little more before heading back up to bed where Allison hadn't budged and was still snoring. Melanie laid her hand over her stomach wanting to feel movement. She gasped right then and smiled foolishly up at the ceiling. A small pulse drummed against her palm and she felt a burst of happiness. Nothing was taking this from her. She fell asleep easily.

"I know you're out there." Melanie sat up in bed. It was a struggle at first, but she managed. Her back was achy and pinched. She pulled a pillow up and stuck it behind her for support.

Her hand rested over her belly. It was full term blown out. She held her breath at feeling solid kicks at the side of her stomach. She held her breath until they calmed. Beside her, Isaac was sound asleep.

"Come on!" she dared shout.

"Oh Melanie. You are reaching out into uncharted territory," said a deep velvety voice followed by a subtle chuckle. "Did you think I could stay away? There's so much fear and desire to feed on."

Creeping out the shadowy corner of the bedroom, the dreamwalker glided toward the end of the bed.

Isaac stirred, turning over to face her, but remained sound asleep. His eyebrows pinched together for a moment before relaxing. Her fingers curled, grabbing a fistful of blanket. The dreamwalker didn't attack. This would've been a perfect moment since she couldn't protect herself very easily.

"What's your endgame?" Melanie asked.

Endgame?" He scoffed. "Why does it have to end? There's so much anguish and fear in this town for me to live on."

He was at her bedside now. She could see his eyes and they scared the hell out of her. glowing neon green. The tattoos on his arms glowed and moved fluidly like seaweed in the ocean. Melanie gulped. Reaching over, she shook Isaac hard by the shoulder.

"Mel, I love you, but I'm tired," he grumbled.

"Isaac," she hissed, not looking away from the mind trespasser.

The dreamwalker crouched down beside her. The grin on his face spread wider. It was like staring at the Cheshire Cat. Of course this was a much more evil looking version of the Cheshire Cat. Shivers crept over her, leaving goosebumps behind. The hairs on her arms stood up on end painfully.

"He can't save you."

He reached out quickly, grabbing her by the throat.

"I know your worst fear." He said in a whisper.

His attention turned to Isaac. A streak of blood came from his nose and dripped onto the pillowcase. Melanie heard his heart beat slower and slower until it stopped. She let out a loud, uncontrollable sob.

"An aneurysm. He didn't even know it or even feel it."

"Shut up!" Melanie screamed. Her chest exploded with a sudden burst of agony. Her heart pounded out of rhythm.

She leaned over and took Isaac's face into her hands and held him in her lap. He looked like he was still asleep, but the striking pains in her chest spreading through her whole body told her otherwise. She wiped the blood from his nose with her thumb. Shaking him was useless, but that's what she did, hoping that he would wake up. Tears cascaded down her cheeks like waterfalls.

"This is why you'll never be able to get rid of me. There is always fear. I feed off of fear. And, yours taste very sweet and juicy, like bruised strawberries."

Melanie yawned tiredly. Her head leaned on Isaac's arm. She hadn't spoken once since she arrived at the bar. Her arm was looped with Isaac's. He gave her curious and questioning looks. She ignored them. This was one dream she didn't want to tell him. It was still playing through her mind. All she could think about was how real everything had felt, the blood, the aching pain in her chest-all of it. Realizing how it must've of felt for Isaac when she'd faked her own death was horrible. She gave his hand a light squeeze, telling him that she was okay.

Stiles wasn't kidding when he said that dreams delved into the parts of you that you couldn't share with others. She couldn't share this. This wasn't some ordinary nightmare where she was fending off her ex. This was a threat against her future.

A couple of weeks had passed since Derek left. He didn't call or even send a fax. Not even a letter came in the mail to let them all know he was okay. Nobody said anything, but the worry about the alpha was evident in one way or another. Even Scott was worried. Melanie could see it in the distant look he had while tapping his fingers on the table.

Jackson was keeping himself busy in odd ways. Since the bar was officially clean and organized and the finances were taken care of, he was now cooking everyone lunch which consisted of loaded potato skins, burgers, chicken tenders, bacon (Melanie's request) and fries. While most would deem this a rather nice and generous gesture, they knew it was because his mind was working overtime trying to free him from his ugly, reptilian centric dreams.

"So there's this party going on tonight. I thought I'd take a break from all of this," Stiles said.

"No there's not," Scott said. "There aren't any parties. They're prohibited?"

"Ohhh," Stiles drew out. He clicked his tongue awkwardly and looked at Lydia. Her head tilted a little and then she looked away quickly.

"Why are you saying that?" Scott asked warily.

"You weren't invited…"

"What?" Scott looked like a hurt puppy.

"Are you talking about that speakeasy thing going on?" Isaac asked.

"Yep, that's the one," Stiles replied smugly.

"You were invited?" Scott exasperated childishly. Allison stifled a giggle at his pout.

Isaac shrugged and nodded. Of course he was invited. To anyone that murmured and whispered about him—which he heard perfectly well—he was the quiet, mysterious guy that every girl wanted. He couldn't help the ego boost out of the attention, though he was more than content with his girl. Looking over at Melanie who was munching on her half raw burger happily, he grinned. She was all he needed. He took a fry from her plate and ate it whole.

"Party? I want to go!" Melanie exclaimed. Lydia smirked at her eagerness.

"NO." They all spoke in unison. Her shoulders slumped and she put down her burger. Isaac nudged her playfully, but she continued to sulk. Stupid pregnancy, she thought.

"I'm not going," Isaac pointed out.

"So? We aren't even living in the same house right now," she mumbled right before popping fry into her mouth.

"I want to go," Scott whined.

"Look who peaked in high school," Stiles joked.

Scott reached over and grabbed Melanie's fork and threw it at Stiles. Cora caught it before it landed in his throat. It clinked as she set down. Stiles smirked a little too proudly a little too soon. Cora smacked him upside the head.

"You should go too." Melanie said, poking Isaac.

"What? Why?"

"Because we all know that Stiles can't out in public by himself." She wasn't kidding. Stiles had that special way of attracting attention. And, special meant his spaz-like quality. Isaac didn't know how he landed the Hale girl with it. That was a mystery that would never get solved. He turned to Stiles who was struggling with a pickle that hung out of his mouth after taking a bite from his burger. The condiment hung off his lips and his head jerked like a chicken, trying to catch it with his teeth.

"Hey," he complained after finally eating the pickle. He threw a fry at Melanie. She smiled and ate it.

"I'm going," Scott said officially. Melanie waved him off with an eyeroll.

"I can't believe you're sticking me with babysitting," Isaac groaned, looking at her.

"You know that if I were going they would be the ones babysitting us," Melanie pointed out.

"Ew." Lydia shuddered.

Melanie laughed, knowing that Lydia was imagining things she really didn't want to.

"It's one of those theme parties. I don't want to dress up," Isaac whined some more.

Melanie froze. There was a gleam in her eyes. A clear sign that her imagination was running off again. A look of intrigue brightened on her face.

"The 1920s," she said and then bit her lower lip. "Hmmmm."

Jackson pulled a chair up and sat down. Giving Melanie a strange look, he shook his head and started eating.

"I'm going to stay with Melanie," Lydia said. She turned to Allison. "You should go. It might be fun and you haven't done fun in a while."

"I do fun." Allison protested.

"You didn't go to the last three parties or mixer," Lydia pointed out.

"I…have schoolwork," she sighed.

Isaac and Melanie were mumbling amongst themselves now. Jackson was too into his food to care about the subject. Stiles and Scott were going back and forth. Something about high school versus college.

When the sun went down, Lydia, Jackson, and Melanie were on Lydia's couch watching horror movies. Twas the season too. Halloween Plus Lydia wouldn't be sleeping. Hellraiser had that effect on people sometimes. That and Critters.

"I hate you," Lydia whimpered. She jumped and more popcorn flew from the bowl. With everything that she'd seen in this town it was shocking that this movie scared her.

Melanie lied on the couch so that her legs were across their laps. She pretended that this was normal, like they did this almost every weekend. They were just a group of friends hanging out and not worrying about what could happen if they fell asleep. That they weren't cranky and hormonal because of lacking Zs. That's what kept her smiling. All of this pretending. Because at some point she wanted movie marathons to be something she did with her friends, not just monster hunting. She missed Isaac.

"It's better than The Notebook," Jackson quipped.

Lydia gave him a side glare and passed the bowl to Melanie. Melanie was too engrossed with the hooks being ripped out of a guy on the TV to care. She grabbed a handful. Her phone buzzed. After shoving the handful in her mouth making her cheeks puff like a chipmunk's, she reached above her head to the end table where her phone was.

Isaac was asking how she was for the second time tonight. He really must've been having a terrible time. Stiles was his partner in beer pong and sucking at it. Scott and Allison had snuck to some dark corner. The secret location was exactly that, a dark corner. It wasn't even in the same county as BHU. Melanie told him that she missed him and then sent a picture of the TV to him. He replied with her being rather disturbing and that her tastes were revolting.

While she enjoyed gore and guts, Isaac sighed heavily as Stiles missed another shot. The ping pong ball bounced off the rim of a red solo cup.

"It's no wonder why you never made it off the bench in high school," Isaac said.

"I got a couple." Stiles said in defense.

""One of those was you accidentally dropping a ball in one of our cups," Isaac said.

Stiles's lips moved in a struggle to find a rebuttal. There wasn't one. Not a sensible one anyway. He closed his mouth, his lips pursing together. He made the next shot and grinned as if to prove Isaac wrong. A couple of girls from Theta Iota Theta stood off to the side watching them and sipping on their beers. Isaac rolled up his sleeves.

"Keep up the whole 'not missing' thing," Isaac kidded with Stiles while loosening his tie.

This was the first time in a while that the two of them had actually hung out like they were friends. There were no people buffers, and he didn't feel like wringing Stiles's neck. Both he and Stiles had ditched their blazers. Lydia had been the fashion coordinator—Stiles was done up in black pinstripe, Scott in slouchy navy like a detective, and Isaac in straight up classy, gangster black. It was hotter than hell in this underground.

These tunnels were a creative place to party and surprisingly dry of any water or sewage. You could get down here from a couple of the Greek houses. However, the downside was the lack of air conditioning. That didn't stop the party. If anything all this secrecy was making everyone feel rebellious which led to rendezvous of the sexual kind. The smell was stomach turning and strangely arousing. He missed Melanie.

"I'll see what I can do," Stiles gasped after a shot of tequila. His throat strained from the burn of the alcohol. Squinting, he took aim and lightly gave a toss. The ball flew and landed with a plop in a red solo cup. Stiles's eyes were squeezed shut the whole time. Isaac slapped him on the back, and he opened them and grinned like a child at Christmas.

The frat boys were starting to look like disgruntled henchmen. That only made Isaac happier. Kicking ass without actually landing a single punch. It was so sweet.

Stiles looked down at his phone. Cora texted him good night. A little whisper of worry ran over the web that was his mind. He replied and shoved his phone back in his pocket before that little bit of worry could grow. She insisted on him coming, though she didn't want to. Everybody needed a night of fun.

She didn't actually go to sleep. In the loft, sweat glistened over every inch of her. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths. Hair clung to her neck and shoulders. It had grown out, and she didn't until recently. Stiles was tugging on it a lot. His stupid, subconscious infatuation was the only thing that kept her from getting a haircut. She flexed her shoulders and rolled them.

Clenching her fists tightly, she swung out and punched the old gym punching-bag. The loft vibrated with music that was loud enough that she couldn't think. Just the way she liked it. Her muscles ached deliciously. She needed a night like this. No talking. No thinking. Just a good long workout.

Her body was jello by the time she was finished. She lied on the cool concrete and stared up at the ceiling. A drizzle pattered against the skylight. The burning in her lungs was extinguished with each slow and deep breath.

The pounding song-Faster Kill Pussycat was actually catchy. Who knew Brittany Murphy could sing? Cora's fingers twitch to the techno sound. After a nice cool shower, she got dressed in old black sweat pants and one of Stiles's old shirts he left here. He left a lot of shit here. Half of it was useless like the stupid bat signal he has on top of the dresser. The toy doesn't even turn on. He might as well have moved in. Cora smiled to herself, running her fingers through her wet hair. Now that was a thought.

Isaac woke up with sun blinding him. That and clanging of pots and pans from downstairs. He didn't remember changing for bed but he was in sweats. He rolled over, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting up. He still didn't have any nightmares. It was bizarre. The nemeton really did protect him from this. He didn't think that it was capable of such a thing. Jenifer Blake made it seem so evil, but maybe it just depended on how it was used.

From the top of the stairs he could hear Allison and Scott laughing and carrying on.

"Stop!" Allison squealed. "No, that isn't how you do it. You're getting eggs all over the stove."

Isaac rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he went downstairs and to the kitchen.

"You two…" he rumbled, "Are too chipper."

"Oh, poor Isaac isn't a morning person." Allison joked. "Want food?"

Isaac nodded. It was moments like these that he was happy to be a werewolf. He couldn't get drunk which sucked, but he didn't get hangovers unlike Allison and Stiles which was fantastic. Stiles had puked for over an hour before he was able to fall asleep on what Isaac imagined to be hell's worst marry-go-round. He let out a grossed out shudder, remembering it. Stiles was going to hate life when he woke up. That and he'd never want to drink gin again.

Isaac chuckled to himself as he leaned on the counter. Scott and Allison were talking about their own adventures which Isaac blocked out. Stiles did try to win a drinking game with him some point last night. The more Stiles drank the more he tried to make it logical about how he'd win. He didn't win which is why he wasn't joining them yet.

By the time the three of them had finished cooking up all the works—bacon, pancakes, French toast, sausage, scrambled eggs, hash browns, more bacon and doughnuts from the cabinet, Stiles came down still looking a little green. He wore a pair of sunglasses. No doubt he snuck into Isaac and Melanie's room to grab them from on top of the dresser.

"You look terrible," Scott laughed.

Stiles sat down at the dining table with them and flipped him off. Isaac laughed heartily.

The front door opened.

"Hello!" Sang Melanie.

"Dining room!" Allison called.

Stiles flinched and grimaced. Everything was too loud and too bright. His head was pounding like a jackhammer let loose inside of it. His nose was wrinkled as he piled up his plate with a bit of everything.

"Mmmm," Melanie moaned as she bent over and grabbed a kiss from Isaac. "Food. I'm starving."

Cora, Jackson and Lydia were with her. Chris and Mr. Stilinski dropped by a couple minutes after, joining the meal. It was almost a whole family. Derek. Melanie hoped he was okay wherever he was. Melissa was at work. The woman was a machine.

"Stiles, you reek of alcohol," Chris said.

"Gin. Never again," he said. Cora pulled off his sunglasses and returned them to Melanie. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.

Chris chuckled.

"How are things," Melanie asked Chris without lifting her eyes from her plate. She meant the business and that meant weapons. She missed the road trips.

"It's at a standstill until we stop killings." Chris tossed an uneasy side glance to Mr. Stilinksi.

"We should get him at his own game," Stiles snorted. All implements stopped clinking simultaneously right then. All eyes turned on Stiles. "Exactly."

His face lit up and he waved his hands elatedly in the air.

"You are really smart sometimes," Lydia said.

"I know-wait what?"

"We'll figure it out later," Mr. Stilinski said. "Let's just eat first."

"Dad," Stiles protested.

"No." he said. His word was good at being the final one. Nobody argued. He was the Sheriff.

Chatter died some. Everybody's minds were running at high speeds, trying to come up with a plan on getting the dreamwalker on his own turf.

Lydia was describing being forced to watch horror movies for most of the night. Melanie tossed a piece of her square hash browns at her, calling her a baby. Scott, Allison, and Chris went on about classes. Everyone was civil. This breakfast was nice. Melanie was watching all of it. Her chest felt heavy, but not with sadness. Strangely it was hope.

"One thing is clear," Stiles said. "We all wake from our dreams easily right?"

There were small nods all around the living room. Deaton now joined them for the meeting.

"Well that's the good thing out of all of this. We may be getting damaged by them, but we have no problem getting out."

"Say that to those who couldn't," Lydia said. She focused on her nails today. A sign of either boredom or nervousness.

"I think that's because he focused on them. They deprived themselves of sleep so much that when they fell asleep there was no control. They started sleep walking. Nobody could wake them up because nobody realized they were asleep until it was too late." Stiles said. "They were so far gone…"

"Because he feeds on their fear, making nightmares worse and lucid" Melanie piped up. "So, uh, what's the plan?"

Stiles didn't say anything at first. His eyes narrowed. The only thing he could think of sounded crazy. But they lived in a town full of crazy.

"We do the Nightmare on Elm Street thing, and we kick him in the nuts in our sleep," Stiles said.

"Theorizing again?" Jackson asked. The usual disinterest rang clearly in his voice.

"Not really," he replied, ignoring it. "The more a person lacks sleep, the more their subconscious being becomes a part of their sleep; the better the sleep the more likely that they'll slip into lucid dreaming which means-"

"It's more real. While you know you're dreaming it will feel just as real as if you were awake," Melanie said.

"A person's head is a whole universe. There's so much we don't share and stuff we don't even know we know, but like in The Flash I guess it would be possible to cross over with the right ingredients." Stiles looked to Deaton for confirmation.

"I've never done that before," he said.

"But is it possible?"

"To specifically create a bridge between people's consciousness? I don't even know if it can be done. I can try." Deaton didn't sound confident. His eyebrows knitted together. He was already digging for ideas. "I'm going to need a strong source of power"

"The nemeton." Isaac said. Deaton nodded.

"Great! The only question is, who's going in to kick that asshole's…" Stiles paused, "ass?"

` Melanie was the first to volunteer. Her hand flew up in the air so quickly that it nearly knocked over the glass on the end table beside her. Her eyes lit up. She was itching for some action.

"No," several voices at once said in unison.

"I'm one of the only people who have actually seen that creep's face," she stated.

"Unfortunately, she's right. She's seen what he can do." Deaton said. He caught her look. He brought him here, and they gave him a gateway to this town. This was their fault. Melanie had a right to try and make it right.

Isaac huffed obviously unhappy that she was one of the chosen.

"I'll go," Stiles said. "With the research I've done, I might be useful."

Another choice nobody was particularly thrilled about.

"Well, not me." Jackson said. "With my nightmares revolving around being a kanima again I think it best that we don't take chances."

"I'll go."

Heads turned. Derek stood in the wide doorway to the foyer. Deaton smiled proudly at the alpha and his return. Derek had his oh-so-serious look and his arms were crossed across his chest which meant he was ready for a fight. Everyone else felt suddenly uncomfortable and awkward. How long had he been standing there?

"The great exile returns!" Stiles called out dramatically. Cora smacked him upside the head. There were some times that he shouldn't open his mouth. No, there were a lot of times. This was one of them. But it was better that she smack him instead of Derek punch him.

"I'll stay here. Isaac, you go too," Scott said. "We can keep watch over you guys and makes sure you don't try to hurts yourselves or anyone else."

"Sounds like the worst idea ever!" Stiles exclaimed sarcastically. He gave a thumbs up.

Scott smacked him this time. Melanie chuckled quietly. He was too hyped up. His hangover must've been gone because he was in rare form and much more obnoxious than usual. Stiles rubbed his head.

"How do you plan on knocking us out? We're all a little wired to go to sleep on our own," Melanie said.

"That's the easy part," Chris said. He looked at Mr. Stilinski.

"There are some tranquilizers back at the station that we use for animals that wander into town."

"Aren't those for grizzly bears and wild cats?" Stiles asked.

"The traditional sedative isn't going to work. We need to be able to stay asleep. If we wake up before we catch this-" Derek said.

"Why haven't we seen him outside of our sleep?" Melanie interrupted right then. She stared at the wall across the room in deep thought. "I've only seen him in my dreams. Deaton, remember we met him in person? Why haven't we seen him in person?"

"It is rather curious." Deaton said in that pondering tone.

"It's the nemeton," Derek said. All eyes were on him again. "I was doing my own discovering while I was away. I didn't find much, but it's possible that using the power of it could amplify his powers so that he can live in the consciousness of others. He is still out here," Derek motioned at the spot he was standing in, meaning that the dreamwalker was still in the real world, "but he's probably hiding in a secure location so that he can stay in people's heads."

"He's in our heads all the time? Even while we're awake?" Lydia asked. She was paying attention now, alarmed by this news. "That's a violation of privacy!"

"There are things in my head that nobody should know. There are things in there I don't even want to know," Melanie said in agreement.

The room buzzed with freak-outs. Chris on the other hand was extremely quiet, but bore a look of extreme disturbance. Mr. Stilinski was trying calm everyone, but his voice was drowned out.

"Quiet," Derek bellowed. Everyone stopped talking and it got so quiet that the buzz of flies could be heard. "If we get him then we don't have to worry about any of your dark secrets coming out in the light of day. And let me just emphasize that I don't want to know anything that dwells in any of your heads."

They all met up at the hospital around sundown. Melissa put them up in the psych ward, the part that was under renovation. Nobody would interrupt them there. Deaton suggested that the ones who were going under be strapped down to their beds. The last thing anybody needed was to chase down sleepwalkers or to end up getting killed by them. Mr. Stilinski brought a couple vials of the tranquilizer and gave them to Deaton.

Stiles stared around the large open room. The closer the time came to go under, the more jittery he became. Each of them was getting more nervous. Derek seemed to be the only one to keep his composure. Plastic hung down from the ceiling, closing off certain places where walls were to be put up, making this place creepier than usual. Only half of the lights worked. The electric was wonky all over the hospital. Cora stood in front of Stiles, leaning into him. She whispered in his ear and he smiled instantly. His heart slowed from it erratic rhythm and he kissed her. Derek's eyes narrowed at the two, but he didn't say anything. Whatever she said calmed him. That's what was important. His glance shifted to Melanie.

She wasn't saying very much either. Her head lay on Isaac's shoulder as she cuddled into his side.

"This has got to be one of your dumbest plans," Melanie said to Stiles. There was no hint of a joke. The closer it came for them to get put down, the more scared they all got.

"You will all be connected if this works." Deaton held up his own personal recipe. It was a small jar of dark, puke green liquid. Melanie's nose wrinkled in disgust. None of them asked what was in it. They didn't want to know. "You only need a little. It'll wear off when it's out of your system. The only side effect is that you will be allowing each other to see parts of yourself that you more than likely have never shared. You're laying yourself bare."

"No secrets. Got it," Stiles said quickly. He waved for Deaton to give him the jar. He uncapped the lid and took a long drink then passed it, gagging and coughing.

"Oh god," he said. His head convulsed.

The serum was thick and gritty and tasted like dirt and dry heave. It scratched his throat like fingernails. Melanie covered her mouth after having her fill and passed it to Isaac. The liquid came back up and she had to swallow it back down. Her eyes rolled back for a moment.

Isaac's face scrunched and he belched which was gross for every werewolf in the room who could smell it.

Even Derek couldn't keep a cool face. His nose scrunched before the first sip and he let out a disgusted groan afterward. His face paled a sickly shade.

They lied down on the clean beds. The sheets had never been used until now. You could smell it. No chemicals or blood remainders. Just the fresh smell of clean. It was refreshing. Each of them was taking nice long breaths.

Mr. Stilinski handed, Chris, Lydia and Scott each a needle after they strapped the sleepers in. It was what Stiles called them. No one went for it. The tube was halfway filled. Mr. Stilinski stayed with his son. Cora sat in the chair beside the bed.

"The tranquilizers should take affect pretty quickly," he said and then looked at Melanie. "I don't think they should have any effect on the baby. We take that into account for animals that also might be carrying."

"Relax," Lydia said to Melanie. She took her hand and gave it a light squeeze.

"With knowing what could be on the other side? I'm trying." Melanie said, not looking away from the ceiling.

Stiles spoke up. "Whatever you do…" he was starting to fade off already. "Don't-don't die."

One by one they each closed their eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

Isaac shot up fast nearly causing him to fall out of bed. Man, that was fast, he thought. He was drenched in sweat. Looking around, he was back home. The window was open, letting in a gentle, cool breeze.

"Another nightmare, son?"

A tremble crawled over Isaac at that voice. Looking in its direction, he found his father sitting in the chair by the window. He lounged back comfortably like he'd been watching for hours.

"What are you doing here," Isaac asked.

"I have to protect my son."

The man bared no emotion as he said those words. He sounded the same as when he would tell Isaac to go to the basement. Isaac scoffed. He got up and walked towards him. It was a daring thing to do. Never in his life did he approach him with such nerve.

"You protect me? I needed protection from you!" Isaac shouted.

His fists shook at his sides. His father remained unaffected by the outburst. He shook his head and sighed. Then suddenly Isaac was flying backwards from a powerful hit across the face. His father came to stand over him. He was taller than usual and stronger than humanly possible. Isaac's cheek burned hot. Scooting backwards, he held the side of his face.

"That is enough back talk. It's time to remember who you are," Mr. Lahey growled.

He grabbed Isaac by the hair and pulled him up onto his feet.

"It's been too long, son." He shoved him, stumbling forward. "Go to the basement. I will meet you there."

Horror spread over Isaac's face. He shook his head. This wasn't happening. Isaac's heart rammed against his chest.

"What did I say!? Go!" His father bellowed

Isaac flinched. This man was the only one who could make him cower. More than anything, he didn't want to turn into him.

"Isaac," came a call up the stairs. That sweet voice was unmistakable. Melanie.

Both heads turned to the doorway. A malicious grin. That was an all too familiar and frightening look that Isaac knew. He took a step, blocking the doorway.

"You stay away from her," Isaac said low.

"Don't you get it, son?"

Isaac's head cocked to the side with confusion. A heavy lump formed in his throat. He swallowed hard.

"It's you that she needs to be afraid of."

"I'm nothing like you!" Isaac shouted, pointing a stern finger at him.

Mr. Lahey's entire stance changed at the declaration, losing all hostility, and he looked at Isaac in a way that Isaac always wished he would. With pride.

"Good."

"What?" Isaac croaked.

"I don't ever want you to become the man I was."

These were words Isaac always wanted to hear. His eyes welled up. He rubbed them before a single tear.

"Isaac." Melanie called again. Small, bubbly giggles followed. They belonged to a baby.

He looked over his shoulder to the darkened stairwell. Melanie's voice was soft like a songbird. No yelling or hollering. He took a step. And, those tender giggles. That was his baby. He could picture its pink little face, so squishy and cute. The overwhelming feeling was making his world close in. Two worlds were clashing together as one. His old one and his future one.

"I'll prove it to you," Isaac said to his father. He still didn't believe the man's words. He wanted to, but it was too easy to believe. "Come on."

"Of course, son."

Mr. Lahey followed Isaac downstairs. Night turned to day on the stairwell. Melanie was in the living room. She was sitting on the bay window staring down at the bundle in her arms with the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen. The golden afternoon sun blanketed them. This was a side of Melanie that was brand new. There was so much love and delicacy. Her skin glowed almost like magic. Delicacy and Melanie's personality didn't make sense. Not ever. Not until right now.

"There you are," she said. "She's fussy."

The baby wrapped up in the green baby blanket protested to confirm.

Isaac was so mesmerized by the sight that he forgot his father was behind him until he patted him on the shoulder. Melanie didn't say anything at seeing him. As a matter of fact, it was like she didn't see him at all.

"See, Dad? I'm not you," Isaac whispered.

"I see, son."

Isaac went over to Melanie and leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. Melanie looked up and he kissed her on the lips long and deep.

"I love you," he said.

"Not that you have a choice," she quipped. He chuckled.

A tiny foot swung up between them. Isaac looked down to see their baby sucking on its toes with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen fixed on him.

"She's going to knaw them off…" he said.

"You always say that and then count them every night to make sure she hasn't."

"Really?" he asked with surprise in his voice.

"Yes. You're strange."

While the two of them enjoyed watching their newborn daughter chew on her own toes, Isaac knew that it wasn't really Melanie. This was the dream version of her just like his dream father had been here.

Derek stood, frozen in place, staring around the Hale house in its charred glory. Windows were cracked and busted. Whole walls were burned through and scorched black. All of it was destroyed again.

Around him, bodies were scattered everywhere. He closed his eyes, sighed and then opened them because this couldn't be happening, this wasn't real. They were still there. Scott was impaled through the chest with one of the spokes of the stair banister. Allison's head was bent at an unnatural angle beside him. Lydia was upstairs on the landing with blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. Her tongue lay not far off. All of those who he knew lay around him in grisly death. His hands were wet and sticky with blood.

"It looks like you have more in common with me than you'd like."

The velvety voice belonged to none other than his uncle. Derek stiffened even more causing pains to shoot down his spine.

"It's who we are, Derek. We seek power. It's all we need. Not this pack. It's always been about the power."

"Shut up." It came out in the midst of a roar.

"Don't deny it. Fighting will only make this harder."

Derek squeezed his eyes shut tightly. When he opened them Peter's face was mere inches from his. The alpha's breath was hot with rage matching the red of his eyes.

"I'm not you!" Derek bellowed. The house shook in agreement with his authority.

A deep chuckle erupted through the house. It wasn't loud or boisterous, but it enveloped the entire remains of the house. In a quick thought, Derek could only compare it to the voice of a commentator. You could hear it in your head, but you couldn't see who it belonged to. He didn't need to see who it belonged to though. He knew who it was, and it reminded him that all of this was just a dream. None of this was real.

Peter circled around him in a way only a predator would right before attacking its prey.

"After I'm done with you, I'll finish off the rest of the Hale family. I look forward to seeing Cora. And, maybe after that I'll start my own Alpha Pack. Having seen everything that went wrong with the previous one, I will be better," Peter said thoughtfully. He rubbed his scruffy chin.

The voice spoke. It wasn't as deep as before and it was no longer in Derek's head. He looked up to find the dreamwalker sitting at the top of the stairs casually. His hands hung off his knees; the tribal tattoos on his arms glowed as neon green as his eyes. It was like neon paint put under UV light. He grinned down at Derek, enjoying the show.

"It's so interesting how the mind uses dreams to sort out people's fears. Some are illogical and flat out ridiculous while others are so intriguing and fascinating to play with. Take yours for instance. You're so afraid that you can't be a leader. On one hand it's superbly pathetic to see you whine, but on the other it's so entertaining to watch you fall at your own hand. I can't decide."

"You." Derek growled, fully shifted. "You're dead."

"Oh! Oh, oh. Before you try to kill me," the dreamwalker held his finger up in an epiphany. "You should know that I'm not alone."

Derek's shook his head. Peter still paced around him. He growled low under his breath.

"You didn't think I would plan for only what happened here did you?" He pointed down at the floor. "No no, I have a friend on the outside. He's just waking up and he has a fiery temper."

Allison sighed heavily, fighting a yawn.

"How about you go get some coffee," Chris suggested.

It was a pretty good idea actually. Three hours had passed since the others were put under. There were a few mumbles and twitches from them, but nothing serious. Allison stood, setting her crossbow to lean against her chair carefully and then stretched. Making it to the door, Lydia spoke up.

"Don't go out there," she said. She stared past Allison out the doorway. Her shoulders moved from her short, panicked breaths.

Her hand snapped out and held Allison by the wrist tightly. Her hand was beginning to lose feeling.

"Lydia," Allison said. "We're okay. Nobody knows we're back here."

"He does," she whispered.

The snapping sound of a shotgun getting cocked echoed. Chris was on his feet. The Sheriff stood at the doorway with his as well. Lydia was never wrong about her instincts. Especially since her instincts were about death.

A deep, rumbling roar filled the hallways.

Allison grabbed her crossbow. Whatever was out there didn't sound like anything they'd faced before. It was deep and horrifying compared to the roar of a werewolf, which sounded powerful and echoic. Jackson was already shifted. His eyes glowed vibrantly blue. His fingers flexed quickly with his hardened claws.

Deaton looked at the sleepers. They needed to hurry.

Melanie hadn't moved from her spot behind the coats in the living room closet for ten minutes. In her twisted logic, this place was safe and he would never find her here.

"Sweetheart, why do you have to be this way?" Seth asked sulkily.

Melanie's breaths were slow and stuttering. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she thought that it would give her away for sure.

"I can hear you…" The creepy playfulness in Seth's voice was gone.

She watched the cracked under the door. Two shadows of feet blocked out the slim light that crept through. She hugged her back to the wall.

"Both of you."

Melanie shrunk back, wishing she was a termite or anything that was super small and easily invisible. The door creaked opened slowly. Melanie flinched and gasped after the coats screeched aside on their hangers, revealing her position. The all too familiar and towering form of her ex, loomed over her. He grabbed her by the hair roughly and dragged her from the closet. He jerked her each time she whimpered. Hairs ripped from her skull. She kicked against the floor, trying to stand but couldn't get a grip.

He stopped and threw her forward. She skidded a couple feet and landed against the couch. Her side collided with the wooden frame. None of her ribs cracked, but she would definitely be bruised.

"I have to say, I am surprised. I always thought it would be my baby you'd be carrying," he said, crouching beside her. He touched her stomach for only a moment and then pulled away, grimacing angrily.

Her chest rose fast and hard with every panic induced breath. Seth looked over her with no particular interest. His eye brows flicked up once like a shrug and then punched her across the cheek.

"That's okay. We can try after I eliminate that thing." He clicked his tongue. "It'll only hurt for a little bit."

Melanie's vision swirled in a nightmarish kaleidoscope. Her face throbbed to the pulse of her heart. She swatted Seth away at feeling his hand graze her stinging cheek in a caress. She scrambled sideways, crawling on her hands and the pads of her feet a couple steps until she was up and running for the stairs.

"You can't hide from me!" he bellowed after her. "You can never escape me!"

Melanie wanted to be anywhere but here. I have to find the others, she thought.

Seth grabbed her by the ankle and pulled hard. She yelped and grabbed for one of the banister spokes. Her sweaty fingers ran over them until she finally found a grip, and then she kicked hard. He fell all the way down to the bottom and hit his head on the wall.

Wheezing, she got up and ran, taking the steps two at a time.

She stopped at the first door she came to, Derek's room, and jiggled the doorknob. It didn't budge. The sound of footsteps climbing the stairs slowly made her stop. He was coming. She tried the door again. It was locked, but Derek's lock was broken right now. Derek planned on fixing it before all of this started. Melanie let out a shaky breath. She needed to get out of here. Anywhere was better than here.

Seth's stomps up the stairs grew closer. Twisting the doorknob again, it was unlocked. She flew through the door and slammed it shut. Pausing for only second as she tried to catch her breath, the door rattled from pounding that came from the other side. She jumped and turned the lock before he could break through. Seth's shouts and curses became farther and farther away.

Rubbing a hand over her stomach, she let out a sigh of relief. They were safe. Well, for a moment at least. I wish I didn't have to worry about you right now, she thought. It isn't safe. The strangest feeling, almost like a wave, came over her from head to toe and the constant nausea that she was starting to get used to was gone.

Melanie's eyes widened and she touched her stomach more intently. Her eyes got blurry with tears and she released a dry sob. The baby was gone. There was no bleeding or cramps to signal a miscarriage. It just vanished. That didn't mean the baby was gone did it? Really gone? Or was this just a part of the dream?

Harsh and melodic tones of music diverted her attention right then. She turned away from the door and crept down the white hallway she'd stepped into towards the sound. The music sounded a lot like The Killers though it wasn't the male lead who belted out the vocals. A woman was singing instead. Melanie slowed as she came around the corner and was face to face with the strangest sight. Her face twisted and eyes scrunched together disturbed and mortified.

The lead singer was her up on a stage that was also as white as the hospital walls except that she was also standing here by the door. It really was true that you'd never recognize yourself if you ever came face to face. She wouldn't have guessed it was herself if it wasn't for the triscele behind her ear.

Stiles pounded on the drums and Scott was on guitar with Danny on bass. They were all a band. She had a pretty nice voice for this music. Melanie started bobbing her head to the music but stopped herself quickly and shook her head. This was ridiculous. She looked at the others. Though all of them were really into the song, Stiles was the one really going at it with all he had. He was real. This was his dream. The others seemed to lack any sort of life and were going through the motions.

Melanie jumped onto the stage and punched herself across the face. The girl fell to the stage and lied there unconscious. In twangs and off beat thrums, the music stopped. Melanie-the real version, stared estranged with what she just did and then spun to Stiles.

"I'm getting my ass kicked by my ex and you're having a concert!?" she exclaimed, pointing a firm finger at him.

Scott and Danny shared and look and then were gone in a puff of smoke. Stiles twirled his drumsticks in his hands. His lips puckered like a duck and he reddened with embarrassment. Melanie waited a moment longer but he still said nothing. He looked past her.

Melanie followed his line of sight and saw a woman sitting in the middle of where an audience would normally be. She wore a hospital gown with a lavender plush robe and stared up at them with complete delight. Small crow's feet form at the corners of her eyes. She had Stiles's eyes…or rather he had hers…

Melanie turned back Stiles. All of the anger and annoyance pent up inside of her was gone.

"Is that-is that her?" Melanie said barely above a whisper.

He nodded. Melanie took a longer look at her. The woman looked to be in her thirties. Her bed head hung in a frizzy mess off her shoulders. This was how Stiles remembered her. A natural beauty.

Setting down his drumsticks, he got up and brushed Melanie to her. They whispered to each other. Melanie could hear them, but looked away to give them their family moment. She knew how this was, how it felt. There were often times when she would dream of her parents. Sometimes they would be at a picnic or they would be out back of the house at dusk, watching the fireflies. She couldn't remember what the house looked like anymore but imagined that it used to be beautiful. Those moments with your parents, no matter how strange, were special.

Melanie swallowed hard and wiped her eyes. A hand on her shoulder made her jump. He tried to smile.

"You had me singing?" she half whined.

"Can you go make a bottle for her?" Melanie asked, not looking away from the baby. The baby liked it when they made their eyes glow.

Isaac nodded. Going to the kitchen, he paused with his hand on the fridge handle. He let out a shaky breath. He covered his mouth at the sudden urge to puke. It passed easily enough, but his stomach still felt swirly. Shaking his head, he opened the fridge. It was full of bottle of formula. There wasn't a nook or cranny left. Even the door was filled up. He grabbed a bottle from the middle shelf and then turned the faucet on.

With the bottle warmed, he wandered back to the living room, but Melanie and the baby were gone. The front door was open. He set the bottle on the coffee table and walked out cautiously. They were probably on the porch enjoying the sunlight.

He walked out the front door. The daylight was gone suddenly and replaced with night. Trees shot up to the sky around him with cold earth beneath his bare feet.

"Melanie?" he called out. There was no response.

He turned and keeled over. The retching sounds of his own vomiting made his stomach twist more. How the hell did he catch the flu? This was all just…a dream. It was just a dream. He didn't think about it until now. That's all this was. But why was he sick?

He stood back up and wiped his mouth. His stomach ached and turned. It felt like a fish was in there.

A roar ripped through the trees. Isaac whipped around, trying to locate the direction it came from. He knew who it was. That much rage was all too familiar. Derek.

Isaac ran through the woods. He didn't know where to, but at the moment it didn't matter. He just needed to follow it. Everything came back to him. They were here for a reason. To get that asshole.

Sticks and leaves crackled under his feet as he bound between the trees. He stopped when he came to the side yard of the Hale house. It was the old house. Through a broken window, he could see Derek fighting with someone. Isaac couldn't get a clear view, but whoever it was had some seriously messed up tattoos.

He bolted around to the front yard and into the house just in time to have Derek flung into him. They both crashed to the floor.

"The great thing about dreams, anything is possible." The dreamwalker chuckled.

Isaac groaned. He shoved Derek off and swallowed back that numbing feeling. This sudden flu was kicking his ass.

"I'm going to rip your throat out with my teeth," Derek growled through his teeth.

"Good luck."

Derek dove at him, but he disappeared, like he was pulled right out of reality through a tiny hole. Derek could barely comprehend it. He waved his hand over the spot where the dreamwalker had just been standing, still reeling from his disappearing act. Isaac got to his feet.

"Who the hell was that?" he asked. He let out a low belch.

Derek turned to him. His jaw was clenched tight. With a clenched fist he reared back and punched him across the jaw. Isaac stumbled back a couple of steps.

"Are you crazy!?" Isaac exclaimed, holding his jaw.

The anger on Derek's changed to completely mortification.

"You're actually here." Derek said. He put a hand on Isaac's shoulder to double check, the blank look on his face unchanging.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm here. And, you're the one who's crazy." Glaring at him, Isaac swatted his hand away.

"I-I thought you a figment just like-" he pointed over his shoulder, but nobody was there. "him…"

Isaac looked past him waiting. Derek's eyebrows pressed together in frustration. Peter was gone. Derek shook his head. All of this was getting hard to keep up with. People were appearing and disappearing. There things that were so out of place, like the school desk in the corner of the room.

"We should try to find Stiles and Melanie," Isaac said, ignoring his possible mental break.

The room lights flickered. Derek twitched and yanked at his restraints a couple times. Chris and Allison were out in the halls patrolling. Deaton checked each of the sleepers' vitals.

"They're stable," he said.

"How much longer?" The Sheriff asked.

"It's hard to tell." Deaton said. Scott paced around the room. Chris insisted he stay in case their attacker made it past them. Waiting to find out if whatever was out there made to this room was the worst. Scott's chest constricted with every breath. It felt like an asthma attack was coming on. He breathed through his nose, but it didn't help. Lydia watched him. She knew he was thinking about it again. He was thinking about how they were all in this life threatening situation again.

He was thinking about how they should be living normal lives, like studying abroad, going to parties, joining clubs, going on road trips. The college experience. His mind went to those places and he was affected by it greatly even though he tried to hide it. He wanted it all. They all did. But they were here instead, trying to save their friends and everybody else. When this was all over the town would go back to normal and people would probably think it was some weird drug being given out since all of this started at BHU. Lydia knew this was on his mind because it was also on hers and everyone else's.

Out in the halls, Allison held her crossbow up. Every breath and step was quiet. Whatever was out here with them was stalking them. She'd only caught glimpses of it. Nothing whole.

The sprinklers overhead sprang to life and rained down over her. Squinting from the large drops of water, she spun around. Bits of hair clung to her cheeks.

"Allison!" her father shouted not far off.

She splashed through the river that now was building up on the floor. Rearing the next corner, she gasped. Shots went off splattering the wall from Chris's shotgun. He looked at his daughter with shock. Another shot whizzed past her at their attacker: Jordan Parrish. The deputy roared at them. His entire body was engulfed in bright orange, licking flames. His clothes were almost completely burned from his body and his skin was scorched black here and there. His eyes glowed like a werewolf's but not. They were as orange as the fire that spread to the walls. The sprinklers weren't extinguishing the flames at all.

"Parrish!" Chris yelled. "Stand down!"

Parrish stared at him. His face was void of emotion. He bared his sharp teeth at them. They were wolf's teeth, but he wasn't a werewolf. Neither Argent had ever heard of a werewolf with powers like this.

"What is he?" Allison asked shakily. She let an arrow fly.

Parrish caught it before it could land between his eyes. He stared at the foreign object and then tossed it aside. It clinked as it skittered across the floor. Allison gulped.

"Parrish…" Chris warned.

He didn't want to kill him. Parrish was the epitome of the good guy. A complete straight edge. This was not Parrish. Something entirely different had taken him over.

"I must eliminate the threat," Parrish said.

Every movement was stiff and robotic. Whoever had control of Parrish was set on killing someone.

"Allison Argent, Chris Argent, Melissa McCall, Danny Māhealani, Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski." Parrish's eyes blazed brighter. "You are a threat to many. I must protect. You cannot live."

Allison looked to her Dad who looked just as terrified, but he kept his shotgun on point. Allison fumbled as she reloaded her crossbow, but it was knocked from her hands as she was tackled to the ground by Parrish. More shots went off and some of the buckshot spray spotted Parrish's shoulder. He didn't flinch or grimace. The beads from the hit pushed out of his skin and clattered on the floor.

With one hand on Allison's throat, Parrish reared back and punched Chris with the other. He flew back and slid into a wall hard, knocking him unconcious. Allison screamed. Her throat blistered red and the skin bubbled. She kicked him off and scrambled backwards, holding her throat. She coughed and wheezed. Her throat squeezed and struggled to suck in air. It still felt like he had a tight hold on her.

Coming up from behind, Scott grabbed her and lifted her to her feet by the waist.

"Scooo-" she wheezed. Her throat burned more with a searing agony and she couldn't get out a word.

"Just go!" he growled. He was already shifted. Parrish stared.

"Allison Argent is a danger." He said.

Allison held her swollen throat. Small beads of blood trickled down her chest from the burn. She didn't want to leave him alone. Him or her dad.

"Go!"

Parrish roared. Scott spun around and stepped in his path as he charged at her and was slammed through the wooden framing of a wall that was in the process of being built.

Allison ran a few steps then stopped. She couldn't leave Scott to face Parrish alone. Bending down, she pulled her Chinese ring daggers from her boots and swung them around her fingers expertly. Every breath made her throat sting worse and worse, but if Parrish got past them it would be hell for everyone.

They better wake up soon, she thought as she ran back into the fray.

"So…" Stiles drawled out, "how do we find Derek and Isaac?"

He and Melanie went to the cafeteria and were now eating a cold breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage and pancakes, all of which tasted like it had been microwaved too many times. Melanie didn't care. It was good to eat without it coming back up. There was a chance it would come up anyway. This crap was disgusting. The small catron of milk she snagged helped wash it all back.

"I have no idea. Not really anyway," she said, holding her plastic fork up like it was a wand.

"What are you thinking," he asked. He used his fingernail to pick between his teeth.

He knew when she was trying to figure something out. Her eyebrows and eyes tightened with such concertation that she looked angry. Stiles thought about making a crack that if she wasn't careful her face would get stuck like that, but decided not to in the end. He didn't want to get smacked.

"I ended up here because I really wanted to get away from Seth," she said.

"Yeah…" he said waiting for a connection.

"I got away. I'm in your dream now."

"Still not getting it."

"If we want to find Derek and Isaac we just have to want to find him." she said. "I think…"

Stiles pushed his tray aside and then got up. He walked over to a nearby door. Clapping his hands together, he rubbed them together like a genie getting ready to make a wish come true.

"I just want this door to take us to Derek…" he waved his hand over the doorknob.

"What are you doing?" Melanie laughed. She pushed her tray aside and leaned back in her chair. The plastic backing creaked a little.

"Putting some wishing power into it," he said.

"You're a moron."

She went and stood against the wall beside him. Watching this would be interesting. She half believed that his stupid magic wave would work.

"And open!" he exclaimed, pulling the door open.

A collection of mops and brooms and buckets came tumbling out, attacking him. He stumbled back almost falling. Melanie howled with laughter. She bent over, holding her sides. Even in the worst situations he had a way of relieving stress. This was perfect-Stiles getting attacked by cleaning instruments.

"Oh yeah, that's where we want to go. Good job," she said, clapping her hands in bravo.

Stiles rolled his eyes and kicked a bucket aside.

"How the hell do we do it then?"

"I don't know. I was scared shitless when it happened. Your nightmares aren't about getting killed. Yours are-"

"Stiles!"

Both of them whirled around. Mr. Stilinski came toward them at a fast pace making them both suddenly nervous. He looked directly at Stiles without taking any notice of Melanie. Stiles glanced at her, breathing heavily in a panic. There was no look or gesture toward her of recognition whatsoever. She was only a foot and a half away from him and Stiles. Mr. Stilinski really didn't see her there.

Seeing Mr. Stilinski like this, frazzled and out of uniform, was strange for Melanie.

"Where have you been!?" he demanded, pointing a finger against his son's chest. "I come to check on you and you're down here? Stiles, you know you can't leave your mother alone."

"Dad, I-"

"No excuses!" he hollered.

Both of them flinched. Melanie took Stiles's wrist gently and his racing heart slowed. She could smell the fear rolling off of him. It was thick and overwhelming.

Mr. Stilinski turned away, running his hands through his hair with strong distress. Stiles looked at Melanie who returned the same confusing look.

"I never left her side. Ever," he gulped out. His voice was shaky.

"And this is your worst nightmare. Not being there," she said sadly. She bit her lip, frowning.

"Mel."

"Let's go." she said with a nod that she would follow.

Mr. Stilinski was still losing his grip on reality about this entirely sad situation. He mumbled to himself amidst his quiet crying.

"I can't do this."

Melanie looked back as they ran out of the cafeteria. She wanted to hug him, console him for this feeling. The feeling of your whole world being shredded in your fingertips. But none of this was real.

They took the elevator up to his mom's room. The halls were quieter than snow falling. Nurses walked around with their noses in the charts they held. Not even their feet made a sound. The whole floor was mute.

Stiles stiffened more and more as they came to the room.

"I can wait here," Melanie told him.

"No," he said quickly. "Please. I don't want to be alone again."

He looked at her, pleading. His eyes glistened. They stood in the doorway for several minutes. The bed was hidden behind a hospital curtain. A silhouette of a body in the bed could be seen clearly. A steady beep from the heart monitor followed by the drip of an I.V. bag was the only sounds in the room. Melanie was about to say something when he turned and shook his head.

"I can't. I can't do it again," he croaked.

Streaks of tears trailed down his cheeks.

"Stiles? Honey?" It was his mom. Her voice was gravelly.

He crumbled even more. His head dropped and his salty tears crashed to the clean, white linoleum. Melanie looked around helplessly. This was worse than her running from Seth. At seeing the nearest door up the hall, she took Stiles's hand and guided him along.

"Excuse me, have you seen my son?" Melanie froze and turned rigidly. Mr. Stilinski stood at the nurse's station speaking to Melissa McCall.

They walked faster. Don't see us, Melanie prayed. They reached the door. Stiles shook his head.

"This is a supply closet." He sniffled.

Melanie opened the door. The two walked through right as the heard Mr. Stilinski calling after Stiles.

The hospital vanished behind them. Stiles's eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Melanie didn't say anything. There was nothing she could say. No words would take that kind of pain away or fix it or bring her back. Words never did that for Melanie.

She looked around. It was dark hallway. Blue lockers lined the walls on either side and a set of double, metal doors were at the end of the hall. The linoleum was cold under her bare feet. They were back in high school.

"Weird." She said. "Not the place I imagined. You?"

She looked over at Stiles. He shook his head just as surprised.

"We might as well look around." he said with a shrug.

"And not die…" she added.

"Not dying is at the top of my list."

Quietly, they walked down the hallway. The familiar sardonic drone of Mr. Harris stopped them near the Biology room. They stepped in the doorway. The former teacher was at the blackboard. A mix of letters was scribbled across it. Mr. Harris looked like he was straight out of a Tim Burton movie. The injuries that lead to his death-a slit throat, strangulation and a gash from getting bashed in the head were still there and he was a deathly pale color. His glasses sat askew on his nose. His lips moved in a whisper. Melanie nor Stiles could hear a word. Chills ran down both of them. This wasn't right.

Melanie grabbed Stiles's arm scared. At the lab tables, students were sitting erect and forward. None of them had eyes. There were scorched holes where they should've been. All at once they all turned their heads towards them. Mr. Harris's mouth moved faster.

"Yeah, no," Stiles said and they backed away. Nobody followed and Mr. Harris turned back to his class.

Melanie shook. That was straight out of a horror movie. She didn't let go of his arm as they continued.

"Let's avoid the boiler room," she said. She shuddered at the thought of what horrors might be down there.

"Definitely." Stiles nodded.

They ended up in the gym. Nobody was in there unlike Economics where Finstock was shouting at the top of his lungs to an empty classroom and History where students were inscribing into their desks. Their fingers were bloody, and their nails were bent and broken.

In the gym there was a single basketball. Stiles picked it up and dribbled it. The sound echoed across the shiny court. There were no sneaker scuffs across the floor. The red and white paint on the walls was brand new. Melanie could still smell the fumes. This was the gym, but not the one she remembered. No big surprise. Nothing was as it seemed.

"I hate this place," Melanie said.

Stiles shot the basketball to the hoop, his hand dangling at the wrist afterward. The ball bounced off the metal ring and flew to the side. Stiles's lips pursed together with disappointment. His hands dropped and shoulders sagged.

"I really want to get the fuck out of here," he said with a sigh. His moments at the hospital still weighed on him.

I really want to find Isaac, Melanie thought. She touched her stomach. There was nothing but muscle, not the firmness of a baby growing there.

"I don't know about you, but I don't want to go back out there. Eventually something is going to do more than just stare," she said.

Stiles didn't disagree. Grabbing the basketball, he made another shot. Melanie caught it after it bounced off the backboard. She dribbled it between her legs.

"Let's check out the library," he said.

Melanie dropped the ball. She didn't want to go anywhere. This gym was safe and out there it wasn't. Who knows what resided in the library. She shivered at the thought. Even with her extra power as a werewolf she didn't feel okay with this in the slightest. Stiles made his way to the gym closet and pulled out a bat.

"Happy?" he said.

His eyebrows rose and he smiled.

"No!" What the hell can a bat do? She bit her tongue and swallowed back words best not said.

"Oh well. If something happens we do the thing us regular people do," he said.

"Regular people?"

"Non-werewolf people, non-banshee or hunter people."

"Okay…and what's that?"

"Run."

"Run…" Melanie pondered it. "Sounds foolproof."

"We need to see if there's anyone here. We can't do that from the gym."

Melanie pouted. He was right. This place was one big horror movie and she preferred watching them, not being in them. After a little more stalling on her end they left the gym. Melanie's claws pushed through her skin at the cuticles. Stiles had his weapon and she had hers.

They walked into the library cautiously. Ash snowed from above, blanketing the tables, chairs and bookshelves. There were no books on the shelves. The emergency lights were all that lit the place. Chairs were knocked over. One of the tables was broken in half.

"Shhhhh."

Both of them jumped and turned to the woman at the main desk. Her eyes were missing too. Her dress was old Victorian styled. A messy bun sat on top of her head. She held up a pair of scissors. They were the old fashioned metal ones and much larger than a normal pair.

"Stiles…" Melanie muttered.

"Right, we're leaving."

"We should've stayed in the gym!" she hissed.

"You're right. Happy?" he remarked with the same amount of ferocity.

They backed toward the double doors, not taking their eyes from her. She didn't move from her seat.

"Melanie?"

Isaac walked out of the stacks. Derek was behind him. Both men were smoldered in ash. None of them moved. Stiles didn't relax from the tight batter's position he was in. He was aiming for Isaac's head and one wrong move, and he'd put the bat to the side of his head. They might've been a part of the dream.

"So, uh, have any interesting dreams lately?" Stiles asked suspiciously. His hands were sweaty as he held the bat tightly. His knuckled turned white. Derek scowled at his sarcasm.

Isaac opened his mouth to speak, but belched instead. Derek wrinkled his nose. Isaac looked at them apologetically and let out a breath.

"I've been puking a lot." He said. "I have some weird flu."

His eyes glowed fuchsia and Melanie relaxed. Her claws retracted.

"It's them." she breathed, hurrying into the arms of her husband.

Stiles lowered his bat. It knocked against his shoes. He nodded to Derek who returned the notion. The four of them couldn't have been happier to find each other right then.

"We're alive. That's good." Stiles said.

Melanie and Isaac were sucked into their own moment and weren't paying attention. Derek focused on the librarian. She was now stamping her hand with the DISCARD stamp, but still stared forward absently.

"We saw him, but he got away," Derek told him. Stiles knew who he was talking about.

"We haven't come across him. How do we find him?"

"I'm not sure. We were trying to find you guys first," Derek replied. "Now we need to grab him and get the hell out."

Stiles's face creased and hardened, dissipating the last remaining humor he had left. The way Derek said it froze him.

"What's happening?" he asked.

"There's something going on outside. Something is coming after everyone."

"Cora…" Stiles breathed.

Cora slammed the door shut behind her after Scott pulled Chris inside and to the chair with Jackson's help. Sheriff Stilinski pounded on the door. She twisted the doorknob so that it jammed and couldn't open. For now, the others would be safe inside the hospital room for now.

Her heart pounded hard against her chest like a steady hammer and loudly like a rushing river in her ears. By the look of how badly beaten Allison and Scott were, they didn't stand a chance. That didn't matter. This would all be over after that dreamwalker was gone, hopefully. They just needed to hold out.

"Cora! No! Get your ass back in here!" The Sheriff shouted. Behind him, Jackson stared in horror.

Scott and Allison were busted and bruised all over. Scott's clothing had singed holes all over. He breathed hard, trying to catch his breath..

"We need to keep this thing at bay," Cora said as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

"We can't kill him. Parrish is still in there somewhere," Scott said between breaths.

Allison was wrapping her throat with one of the sleeves of her black sweatshirt that she'd ripped off. Having a sleeve on one arms and not on the other made her look like some sort of badass from Mortal Kombat. Cora shook her head. She needed to spend more time with girl-friends. Melanie was a girl and all, but the two of them lacked in the girly area. It's what made them such good friends. Lydia however, was girly. Cora decided that after this was over, she would have to consider hanging out with her a little more.

"Then we play cat and mouse?" Cora suggested.

"We're the mice," Allison croaked. Her voice was scratchy. The tips of her ponytail were singed.

"We can't leave this floor," Scott said gravely. He was thinking about his mom and all of the other people that were on the floors below them.

"Let's run." Cora said.

Scott nodded. They all sprinted in opposite directions, splashing through the water. Whatever Parrish was, he couldn't catch all of them if they weren't together.

It didn't take long for Parrish to track them down. He found Allison first who crossed paths with Cora. Cora jumped over Allison just as the hunter dropped down to her knees and slid through four inches of water. Parrish changed direction and went after Cora then. The dangerous game of tag continued until Scott lost Parrish. The three of them converged at another crossroads in the halls.

The sprinklers finally died down. Water dripped down the plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling. Water seeped into Cora boots. Waterproof my ass, she thought. She gulped back a deep breath. The air stung her lungs. Her hammering heart was all she could hear. Not a single thought was able to penetrate the loudness of it. Right now she was supposed to be holding Stiles's hand. He was going to wake up and she wouldn't be there

Nothing was ever easy in this town.

Melanie felt Isaac's forehead with her wrist. His temperature felt normal. There wasn't a fever. His eyes still watered.

"All you've been doing is vomiting?" she asked.

He nodded, letting out another small burp.

"That, and I'm tender in places no man should be tender in." He gave a pointed look.

Melanie giggled. She touched her stomach. She felt fine. She'd felt fine ever since she escaped Seth.

Melanie's eyebrows skyrocketed right then and she smiled. All of Isaac's symptoms were all connected to one specific condition. Her lips parted and she bit her lip excitedly. She touched his still amazingly, smooth and soft built stomach. That's where she went. The baby was safe. She just moved to her father. Dreams were strange.

"You're pregnant," she laughed softly.

Isaac pulled her hand away and glared. She laughed even more.

"I didn't know this would happen," she said quickly.

"This is your doing?" he exclaimed. Derek and Stiles were now listening with very curious looks.

"Not exactly. I was scared and I wished that I didn't have to worry about her right this second." Melanie shrugged. "I figured she disappeared. I didn't know where she went."

"I'm not going to wake up pregnant am I?"

Stiles's eyes narrowed in disbelief and his mouth hung open, unable to find words for what an idiot he sounded like. He shook his head and turned away, laughing under his breath. Now was bad timing to make a sarcastic remark anyway. They were all trying not to die and plus, Isaac might get hormonal.

"No," Melanie laughed. She gasped for a breath.

Isaac frowned. Melanie stopped laughing immediately. A smile still lingered at the corner of her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she said, gaining her wits back. "You'll be fine."

Reaching up, she cupped his face and brought him down to kiss him on the lips. She pressed her forehead to his still laughing.

"I feel like shit," he grumbled.

"It's only month 2." She held up two fingers. His eyes widened to the size of teacup saucers.

He was having an issue with this. He was lucky he didn't have to carry for nine months. Melanie was excited but not for swollen ankles, lack of sleep, back pain, sensitive breasts or pushing out a cannonball that may or may not have claws.

"Oh dear god." Isaac said with a mortified expression. He kissed her forehead.

She giggled and nodded. He was the lucky one in this pregnancy.

"This has been tender and very strange, but can we get going? I don't know how long we've been asleep, but we need to catch this asshole quickly and wake the hell up so we can help everyone outside." Derek snapped. Melanie stuck her upper lip at him mockingly. Sour wolf, she thought.

"What's wrong?" Melanie asked.

"Our friend gained an ally who is trying to kill our friends outside."

"Look at all of you."

The four of them spun to the voice that broke through their little meeting.

"You." Melanie said low and angry. The dreamwalker grinned at the four of them.

Stiles swung his bat before he could get out. The end which should have landed crushingly hard against the side of his head and send him rolling to the floor went right through it instead. Stiles stumbled back bewildered, looking at his bat and then back at the dreamwalker.

"You know," the dreamwalker said, "We've been doing all of this dancing and I haven't even introduced myself. That's rather rude of me and especially to you since we've known each other for a long while." He looked at Melanie with an interested smile. She scowled in disgust. "My name is Trenton."

The smile on Trent's face widened and his vibrant green eyes lost its luminosity and faded to a natural emerald. His tattoos stilled to black. He leaned his backside against the main desk a couple feet from the lunatic librarian. She was unaffected by his presence and continued stamping her hand which now bled in rectangular outlines and swelled with purple bruising.

"You're all together. A team." Trent looked at each of them individually. "Good. Just what I wanted."

Stiles had taken cautious steps back. Derek grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back behind him roughly when he got close enough. Stiles didn't notice the sudden protection he was put under, but Melanie did. Derek had never done that for Stiles. He never stepped in front of him like he did for Cora and her. But Stiles was human-ish. So that meant he was fragile.

The emergency lights went off, shrouding the library in darkness. All of their breaths hitched at once. They blinked on. Trenton was gone. They blinked off. They all searched for each other. Melanie felt Isaac's hand fumble for hers. His ring scraped her knuckles. Lacing her fingers with his, she held on tightly. The heavy thud of the librarian slamming her stamper down on the red ink pad stopped. The lights blinked on.

The librarian was turned to them. If she had eyes she would've been burning holes through them.

"Oh shit," Stiles breathed.

Her mouth opened, her jaw cracking unnervingly, allowing her mouth to open wider like a snake getting ready to swallow a mouse or by the size of her mouth, a rabbit. She released a shrill scream. The four of them clamped their hands over their ears. The piercing sound had them fighting to stay on their feet. The lights blinked out and the screaming stopped.

Pulling his hands from his ears, Isaac looked around. It was pitch black even with wolf eyes. His heart beat hard as if counting down like it did at that penultimate moment in a horror movie. He wished they all could wake up now.

The lights blinked on and Melanie jumped and let out a scream. Trent stood in front of them.

"You're on my domain now, pups." He looked at Stiles. "And you."

Stiles sneered. His hand tightened around the bat's handle as it hung at his side. He was ready to take another swing at him.

The lights blinked off. When they came back on he was gone and so was the librarian.

"We're leaving. Now." Derek said firmly with a stiff nod.

"Right behind you, leader." Melanie said, giving a two finger salute.

They surveyed the whole area with every step. Paranoia sank in, making them flinch at the slightest creak or breeze.

This wasn't the same high school that Stiles remembered. The place where he had good memories and sometimes life threatening moments.

"We can't face him here," Melanie finally piped up. "Trenton is right. We're on his turf."

There was a pause, and they looked back. Melanie stopped walking. Every hallway looked never ending. They were dark at every end like black holes. Scratching sounds made her jump.

"But I know how we can change that." she said with a nod.

They waited for his brilliant idea, but he didn't say anything. He sped past him. Melanie looked at Derek who was just as clueless. There was an idea brewing in his mind and it wasn't the best one, but where they could go would mean equal ground for everyone…maybe.

"I know a place. We all do." Melanie continued.

She sped toward the double, metal exit doors. With every step she kept thinking about where she wanted to go-a place of imprisonment and darkness where the screams of lost minds dwelled and strange noises crawled in the walls. The voices weren't just in your head and on a special floor creatures pressed against their glass cages, seeking to unleash their own brands of horror on an unsuspecting world. This place was a horror for all and might be enough to hold a brand new patient.

Grabbing the metal push bars of the doors, she gave an effortless push. Swinging open, the doors clanged against the walls and the high school was left behind as the four of them stepped into Eichen House.

Screams resounded down the hallways. Derek went rigid in the shoulders, trying to resist the chill creeping down his spine. This dank hell-hole made all of them squeamish.

"We don't split up." Derek said.

Stiles nodded in agreement. He went pale quickly. This wasn't a place he liked being in, but he hoped that Trenton didn't either. Flashbacks of his and Lydia's short term stay in here were fluttering through his mind. He shook from head to toe.

"Are you okay?" Isaac asked, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"We're in an insane asylum not just for people but for the supernatural. We don't even know if they're all locked up or not. We don't' know what's here!? Melanie! How could you do this!?" Stiles was almost shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Shut up!" Derek hissed. He glared at both of them. Pointing at each of their chests he spoke. "If anything is wandering around you are giving us away."

Stiles's lips pursed together, but he didn't say anything. Everyone shared a strong disturbed discomfort, but not as much as him. His hands were white from his hold on his useless bat.

They walked past the empty reception cage where a nurse would normally remove any potentially dangerous articles of clothing or objects like keys, a belt, jewelry or wallet, and it would be stored in a small Tupperware container on a shelf. And, when you returned for your things you would be missing a couple dollars from your wallet.

The area was dusty like there hadn't been a nurse working the desk in years. The hallway was quiet and dark. Only the moonlight shining through the barred windows was lighting their path.

The screams quieted to hum of murmurs as they made it to the elevator. Derek pressed the up button.

Stiles turned and looked down the way they came from, watching for anything that might try to sneak up on them.

"How do we know that he'll show up?" Isaac asked. He blew out a long breath through puffed cheeks no doubt trying to keep from getting sick again. Morning sickness sucked that way. You got sick no matter what time of day.

"Because he wants us. We're three werewolves," Melanie glanced at Stiles, "and a Stiles. Our fears are a little more intense than the norm. He wants me dead and he'll go after Deaton next," she finished.

The elevators doors dinged and they all went inside. The doors closed and the elevator started to rise. No one had pressed a floor button. The ride was bumpy and the elevator shook. Melanie gripped the rusty rail on the wall. Her eyes clenched shut, and she bit the inside of her cheek. She hated elevators. The whole body parts getting caught in doors or the strings snapping and sending the metal box dropping was a fear that she harbored and it was kicking into high gear.

Isaac slid his arms around her waist from behind. She jolted and let out a breath. Her hand gripped the railing tighter when the elevator jolted and bounced to a stop. The doors cranked open loudly from the metal rubbing together.

None of them stepped out of the elevator.

"I hate all of you." Stiles stated and then gulped.

Melanie turned her head, nodding quickly in agreement like a bobble head.

Outside, screams and other sounds that were unnatural to this world killed the scary silence that the group had been bubbled in moments before. The loud poundings of closed fists against glass cell walls were like a chant amid it all.

"Ladies first?" Stiles squeaked. His eyebrows quirked upward.

What was meant to be funny only made Melanie whimper in fear. Derek punched Stiles in the shoulder. Stiles fell back against the wall, yelping. His mouth remained agape as he rubbed his dead shoulder. Derek turned to walk out first.

"Derek, wait," Stiles said. "There's something I need to tell you since we're all probably going to die in this place."

Derek shook his head and rolled his eyes. Stiles picked the worst times to let out his feelings. More than anything, Derek wished he would hold them in.

"Hey! It's important." Stiles snapped.

"Fine," Derek replied, but he clearly didn't want to listen.

"Right before Cora tranquilized me she asked me to move into the loft with her and I said yes." The words rolled out of Stiles's mouth quickly. He turned away quickly, cowering to the corner.

"Oh shit," Melanie breathed. Isaac wrapped his arms around her and held her close, ready to shield her.

"WHAT!?" Derek bellowed. His eyes flashed rage red. His hands rose up, ready to rip out his throat. The veins in his arms bulged out. His claws were already extended.

"Yeah and that rage you're feeling right this second? Use it out there." Stiles said pointing out the door.

Derek dropped his hands, but still glared. He was going to move in with his baby sister!? Not happening. It was hard enough dealing with the two of them dating. Living together was not an option. She didn't get the loft so she could have him sneaking in there. It was a step towards responsibility. Stiles was…God, he was freaking Stiles. There was just something that wasn't right about this. Looking at him now, he was awaiting a death giving blow. Derek rolled his eyes at him. He'd be dealt with later.

Melanie and Isaac's eyes were wide from the dramatic moment.

Derek stepped out of the elevator. It was immediately and bad idea. He was sideswiped by a black, smoky blur and thrown down the hallway. He slid a couple feet before stopping. The dark figure looked back at the other three with neon green glowing eyes. A shapely form pulled from the strange aura. It was Trenton.

Trenton turned back to Derek who was getting back up onto his feet.

"Nighty night, Derek!" Trenton snarled, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and throwing him against a cell wall.

Derek gave one last glance to Stiles, Melanie and Isaac, one filled with panic, before blipping out of the hallway and out of Eichen.

"Derek!" Melanie screamed.

Deaton was checking the vitals of Melanie's fetus with the ultrasound machine when Derek half shot up awake. His leather, psych-patient patented bonds kept him down. He looked around the room bewildered. His lips parted with confusion.

"Wha-"

Jackson who was tending to Chris jumped. His eyes glowed blue and his claws were out quicker than a cat's.

"What happened?" Derek asked. His head shot around the room.

The Sheriff, still leaning against the door, trying to get it open, stared in complete shock. Jackson's claw retracted and he reverted back to normal. Chris's head lolled. His eyes fluttered. He was concussed and struggling to stay conscious.

"Where is Scott?" Derek looked around. Their co-alpha was supposed to be here. He wasn't the only one missing though. "Cora? Allison?"

Derek's tone grew more demanding and angry. The Sheriff spoke.

"They're out there." He nodded out the door.

Derek looked down at his restraints. With one hard yank he was free of them. He stood up and undid the straps. The metal clasps clinked on the linoleum as the bonds fell to the floor. He made way for the door.

"Cora broke the door-" The Sheriff started. Derek threw his shoulder into the metal door. The metal crunched and caved in, followed by the hinges groaning and giving out. The door fell with a loud bang, "Jamming it." The Sheriff finished.

Scott flew across their path right then and skidded through plastic covering, pulling it from the nails holding it up. Derek looked at the Sheriff. The Sheriff was just as alarmed as him.

"Do not get yourself killed." Derek said.

With that he left the room. The Sheriff cocked his shotgun and followed. Jackson made his way to the door, but stopped at the doorway prepared to defend it should Derek and the others fail. The odds were five to one now so he had high hopes that it wouldn't come down to that.

Derek roared and the hallways shook. While he hoped that the others would make it out alive from Dreamland, he was here now and it was time to kick just a little ass. Or maybe a lot. He was up for a lot.

He snapped his neck to the side, cracking it and shifting. The hairs around his face bristled. His nose twitched and stung at the smell of smoke. He flexed his fingers, sharp claws extending, and then his arms. All of his muscles tensed in that delicious way. He was aching to lay a good punch.

Parrish came around the corner at the end of the hall. Parrish would do. Derek's eyebrows rose in surprise. The deputy being on fire would make it interesting. Derek had never seen anything like this before and he had seen a lot in his experience as a werewolf.

"Derek Hale." Parrish spoke. His blank and bland tone was strange. "You must leave. This is not your fight."

Derek looked back at Scott who was finally up. He limped to Derek's side. His hand was pressed to his side. Blood seeped through his shirt. Derek could leave Scott and the others to get themselves killed, but that wasn't who he was. He tried that route once. It didn't work out. What he had now was good and he wasn't giving it up. And he wasn't going to let Scott get all the glory this time.

"I think I'll stick around," Derek said in a low gravelly tone.

"And you will die with the rest." Parrish stated.

Shots went off from the Sheriff's shotgun, but it didn't divert Parrish's attention. Scott and Derek charged at Parrish.

Melanie came running out of the elevator with Stiles on her heels. She slammed Trenton into a cell wall. On the other side a kanima pressed its reptilian hands to the glass, eyeing her hungrily. The glass was smeared with venom.

Trenton laughed hysterically.

"No alpha here to save you," he sang. "Now I get you to myself."

"Not quite!" Isaac yelled as he tackled him from the side and right from Melanie's grips.

Stiles stopped at Melanie's side for only a second and then helped Isaac with beating Trenton.

"Wait!" Melanie shouted before they got carried away.

A cell door at the end of the block creaked open. The hairs on the nape of her neck prickled. Melanie shuddered out a breath. Wild bolts of lightning came out of the door opening, clinging to its edges. The bright white streaks got longer.

"My friend!" Trenton said happily.

A small Japanese girl came out of the cell slowly. Her long black hair hung around her face. She wore white skinny jeans that smoldered with ash, an off the shoulder T and black combat boots. Her eyes held a bright white glow that was wiry like the lightning flying around them now.

The hair on Melanie's arms rose in the static. The hallway thrummed with electricity. The three of them jumped from small zaps.

"Isaac!" Melanie screamed. She pulled him back. Her claws sank into his bicep.

"Mel!" he hollered. The adrenaline pumping through her plus the fear made her much stronger than him suddenly. She pushed him into the elevator which was still open and then pressed the down button before stepping out. "No!"

"Protect her!" Melanie screamed at him and then turned her back on him right as the doors closed. His pounded on the doors but they wouldn't open.

His chest rose and fell heavily. He shook his head. The doors weren't going to open and he knew that.

Melanie and Stiles were huddled together facing something brand new.

"This lightning rod is going to fry us." Stiles said shakily.

"I have a plan." Melanie said.

"You have bad plans." Stiles pointed out.

"You have bad plans." Melanie argued.

They shared a look.

"WE have bad plans," they agreed.

"But uh, what is it?"

"What's what?" Melanie asked, her panic increasing as this girl, no older than seventeen, crept closer. Trenton was up and unfazed by her supercharge. She didn't even acknowledge him.

"Your plan!" Stiles exclaimed in a high pitched voice.

"Right. Uhhhhhh….shove him in that cell." She said.

"This is a dream. That thing won't hold him!" Stiles yelled.

"Just trust me." Melanie gritted out. Another jolt of static struck her in the arm. She couldn't explain how this would work right now, but this would work.

"Okay." Stiles was uneasy about running straight into the walking, living, breathing version of the electric chair. He threw his bat at the girl. She caught it with one hand and broke it into splinters.

Melanie charged at her. Several bolts hit her-one in the shoulder, another in the calf and one in her lower back. She screamed as the surges brought her to her knees. Her muscles tensed as the bright white hot rush burned all the way through her finger tips. The world around her went black and she could hear Stiles calling out to her name in the distance.

Melanie's screams made everyone in the hospital room lurch. Chris looked around wildly. Lydia, at Melanie's side, let out a soft cry. Melanie grabbed her forearm and squeezed. She pulled back hard, freeing herself and her arm tickled from the blood rushing back down to her fingers. Even Stiles jumped in his sleep. Melanie's heart monitor flat lined immediately.

"NO!" Deaton bellowed.

He began CPR. Lydia didn't move. Her lips parted, but nothing came out. The deathly scream that solidified her friend's demise was lodge in her chest. She held her breath. Her ivory cheeks turned rosy and then red. The nausea kept building but she kept holding it in.

Jackson came up on Melanie's other side.

"We have less than a minute to restart her heart or the baby will die." Deaton said. "Breathe!"

Jackson breathed into Melanie's mouth. Deaton kept pressing down on her chest with his hands. Red, jagged lines appeared over her shoulder. More sprigged over her hip from her back.

"Breath!" Deaton yelled again.

Jackson obeyed. His heart beat painfully in his chest. Not again, he thought as he remembered the first time she went through this whole death ordeal.

"Hey," Chris said. He pointed to the heart monitor. Lydia helped him stay upright with her hand on his shoulder.

The monitor beeped once followed by another and then another, the green spikes on the screen becoming regular. All of them released a sigh of relief. Deaton wheeled the ultra sound machine over and pulled down the covers. He lifted her shirt again like he'd done a few times already tonight. There were still remnants of goo. Checking her tummy, he held his breath, not blinking once.

"Deaton." Jackson was awaiting the results too. They were both looking at the black and blue screen.

"Aside from being a little excited, the baby is fine." He said. "It's still a tiny jumping bean."

"Whatever is going on in there they better stop." Jackson said.

"I concur." Deaton said.

Melanie didn't move. Smoke rose up from her body. The Japanese girl stared down at her with a deep furrow in her brow. Her eyes dimmed from the electrical static that surged in them.

"Strange." she said. Her voice was light and tiny just like her.

Trenton stood over Melanie with his arms crossed over his chest triumphantly.

"You always did talk too much." He said.

Stiles gulped. Every nerve in his god given body was screaming for him to run because there was no way he going to be able to do this on his own and if he did there would be heavy brain trauma. Hell, he might even die.

Melanie's fingers twitched. Behind her eyelids her eyes rolled. She was still alive. He just needed to get to her. His fingers flexed.

"And what are you going to do?" Trenton asked curiously. "I can't imagine why you came here. Hmm?"

Stiles had plenty of comebacks like how he could shove his imagination up his ass, but he didn't say anything.

"You're just some stupid human. You don't fit into any of this." Trenton continued. "There's absolutely nothing about you that's special."

Stiles grinned right then. His legs tensed, building up adrenaline. He eyed the open cell. Just get him in, right? This was all a dream, right? More and more questions crossed his line of thought at Flash speed. And he answered every single one of them in one word. Yes.

He looked at the Japanese girl who was still bewildered by Melanie lying there on the ground. He thought about what she said—you just have to want it.

"You're right which means you underestimate me." Stiles said with a smirk.

Trenton's eyes narrowed. The lightning all around them died and the Japanese girl now stood there horrified. She stared down at her hands, shaking them.

"And this is just a dream or rather, your worst nightmare." Stiles said. His eyes glowed a ferocious gold, startling Trenton. He grinned and then released a roar.

"No!" Trenton yelled. "Not possible!"

Jumping over Melanie, Stiles used all of his strength, including the newly acquired werewolf one and pushed him toward the open cell. The veins over his muscular arms and over his forehead ballooned angrily. It only took a moment before Trenton regained his composure. The dreamwalker fully expected him to tuck tail and run.

Stiles punched him in the side. Trenton's tattoos began to glow. Stiles only fought harder. Flashes of this entire fiasco and everything that lead up to this dangerous adventure played through his head. So many people died. His friends nearly killed each other. Something, and he didn't know what, was trying to kill his best friend and his girlfriend of whom he had every FUCKING intention of moving in with after this was over. All of this was Trenton's fault; a stranger who came to this town and tried to use it as his own personal playground like every other ugly supernatural creature that did before.

Stiles yelled out barbarically and shoved Trenton through the cell door. He fell back and landed against the opposite cell. Trenton was on his feet in a rage within seconds. The cell door closed in his face and locked.

"You're never getting out you psychopath!" Stiles yelled. All of his strength dwindled back down to normal, human strength. He didn't even fully transform, but the small glimpse of a werewolf's world was still pretty intense. All he saw was red. He'd never felt so angry.

The Japanese girl was gone when he turned around, vanished into thin air.

Stiles hurried to Melanie's side. His hair stuck out at odd ends from the static that had whipped through not long ago. Melanie groaned. Stiles helped her sit up.

"I never want to do that again," she croaked and coughed.

"I never want you to do that again," he agreed.

"You look terrible."

"I'm not scorched black and blistered." Stiles slipped her arm over his neck and his arm around her waist and then lifted her. She groaned loudly.

"This is going to hurt for weeks."

"For all of us. Now we have to find a way out of here so we can save our other friends." Stiles said as he helped her walk to the elevator.

Melanie nodded in agreement and then said,

"So a werewolf, eh?" Her eyebrows and she grinned. Stiles shrugged, but she could see the grin behind all of the nonchalant crap. He loved it.

"Yeah. Trying it on for size I guess."

"Uh-huh," Melanie replied unconvinced

The other inmates in their cages watched them closely still. Stiles and Melanie made no attempt to interact so as not to ensue anymore battles. They were beaten down enough.

The elevator doors opened and Isaac was still inside. The walls were shredded. Claw marks were all over. His shoulder had the same jagged lightning blisters as Melanie's. Even getting him out of the same place wasn't good enough. Their connection still hurt him and the baby. The burns were healing though.

"Jesus," he breathed. He took her from Stiles and cupped her face in both of his hands. "I thought you were gone."

"Nope." She replied with half lidded eyes. She leaned her full body weight on him. He shook his head. The woman was crazy, but thankfully she was his type of crazy. That and the sex was good so he couldn't really be angry at her.

He kissed her long and languorously. She groaned and that was when Stiles exited into the elevator. Melanie's hands pressed to Isaac's chest and she parted from the unbelievable kiss.

"Let's get the hell out of her before I go crazy. This place creeps me out. And, I want my baby back." Her fingers dipped down along the cresses of his chest to his stomach.

"I don't know. I think I'm getting used to this."

"You do know that when you wake up you'll still be pregnant," Stiles chimed in, looking at Melanie.

Isaac ignored him and kissed her again. This was a victory. It was over. Trenton shouted from his cage with threats.

They got in the elevator and as the doors clamored shut Stiles asked,

"How do you know this will keep him trapped?"

"Because," Melanie said. "This place is meant for people like him. I figured it would be the only way we could stop him by not having to kill him. Even in a dream it's a shady piece of hell. So now he's trapped in his own mind in a place meant for nasty supernaturals. All we have to do is find his body and put that in a special cell in Eichen too."

"That's pretty genius." Stiles admitted. "And, it gives me a headache trying to understand it."

"I know." Melanie said.

Melanie, Isaac and Stiles awoke simultaneously. Melanie groaned at the sudden rush of nausea. She did not miss that. Maybe it was just because she was hungry. Her stomach rolled at the thought. Nope, it wasn't hunger.

Deaton did not allow any of them to get up from their bed until they had a full check-up.

"What's out there?" Melanie asked warily. She wriggled in her bonds. Her wrists were chafed from thrashing in her sleep.

A body slid into the room across the floor, halting all them. They stared at the person.

"Parrish?" Melanie said. Her head cocked to the side. He faced down.

Derek walked in, breathing hard. A gash crested his eyebrow. Cora was behind him and Scott carrying Allison behind her. Cora rushed to Stiles's side, getting on his lap even though Deaton hadn't reached him yet for a check-up. He couldn't hug her due to still being tied down. Cora didn't care. She snuggled into him happy that he was back.

"We still have to find him," Stiles said.

Isaac nodded. Scott, the Sheriff, Lydia and Derek helped Chris, Allison and Parrish downstairs to the emergency room. Melissa would be glad to know that everyone lived even though they were all a little bumped and bruised.

"I'll go. Jackson, you come with." Isaac said.

"Hey," Melanie called. Isaac turned at the doorway. "Be careful."

Isaac gave that cute smirk. She rolled her eyes and then squeaked at feeling Deaton put baby goo on her tummy. Isaac and Jackson were gone.

"That's cold!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry." Deaton bit out.

He didn't meet her gaze, but stared at her stomach angrily. She tilted her head trying to catch his gaze but he turned to the ultrasound screen.

"Hello? How are things going in there?" Melanie asked.

"All seems fine." He replied quietly.

He turned the machine off. Melanie looked to Stiles who shrugged at how strange he was acting.

"You seem upset," Melanie said.

"I'm fine," Deaton replied.

"You are worse at lying than Scott," Melanie said. Cora got her out of her bonds after helping Stiles with his.

"You died. It was a couple seconds, but you died. Do you know what that could've done to your baby?"

Melanie smiled right then. That's all he was upset about?

"Deaton, I was okay. One, we were all in Dreamland. Two, if Isaac had died there would've been a bigger problem since he was the one who was pregnant."

Deaton looked at her with deep confusion. That didn't even make sense. He opened his mouth but closed it unable to come up with a question or even a statement. Cora now joined Deaton in the muddle of confusion.

"It's complicated to explain, but she was fine the whole time. I may have been down for the count, but she was okay." She assured the good vet.

"Isaac was pregnant in the dream and she wasn't." Stiles chimed in.

"You get it." She said.

Stiles gave an all over nod. It was easy enough for the two of them. Putting it into words was different.

"All in all. The baby was fine the whole time thanks to strange events." Melanie clapped her hands together, ending the conversation. "Let's go visit our friends downstairs. I want to call Isaac too."

She got up from the hospital bed and swayed. Her hand sought out the bed and grabbed a fistful of sheets as she waited for the sudden rush of dizziness to pass. Blinking a few times, it subsided. Her black hair chopstick with the intricately carved fox head at the end still sat where she put it before lying down. She twirled it between her index fingers. Then with a couple of twists and turns, she put her hair up in a messy bun. Sprigs stuck out here and there. She loved it when her hair did that.

"Melanie, where did you get that?" Deaton asked.

"Oh." Melanie said and gave the chopstick a small twist. She never forgot the story behind the hair piece. She just never spoke of it either, not even to Isaac. It was personal, a big part of her journey and who she was. This was when she was on her own with nobody to help her. "It was a gift."

The reply was soft and dreamy. She was remembering the story. In her mind it was in living color like it was happening all over again. A small smile pulled at her lips.

"A gift?" Deaton was awestruck which confused her.

"What?" she asked. Stiles and Cora were now listening.

"There's somebody I want you to meet down at BHU. She's a professor in Japanese studies. Professor Nakamura. Show your hair piece to her."

A chopstick is just a chopstick, Melanie thought. She pushed the subject off. There were more important things to worry about right now, like their injured friends. A hair piece could wait. She reached up and touched it gingerly. It was firmly in place as was the memory that came with it. It was a memory from before she came to Beacon Hills. Her heart skipped a beat.

Melanie shook her head and eyed the door with a huge shoulder imprint in it as it lay on the floor curiously as they all left.

"That'll be hard to explain," she mumbled.

"Not as hard as all of this," Stiles said.

His walk slowed as his attention was drawn to all of the scorch marks and burns strewn everywhere.

"Parrish was on fire." Cora said. She held up her arms to show them her arms. The sleeves of her leather jacket were burnt. There was no salvaging the treasure.

"Everywhere?"

Cora nodded. "Everywhere. I was hoping you could tell me what kind of creature could do that."

"A phoenix? I don't know." Stiles said. His eyebrows pressed together as his mind started spinning with possible solutions to what Parrish was. He asked Cora to tell him everything she knew and she did.

When they found Melissa downstairs in the emergency room she led them back to where she was treating Chris and Allison. Parrish was handcuffed to a hospital bed only a couple of feet away from them. He was still unconscious. Melissa was already working on cleaning the soot from him. Derek and Scott were both tending to Allison. Scott was holding her hand. Faint red veins were trickling over his hand and up his fore arm. Taking her pain was straining him, but he didn't let go.

Melissa tossed Derek a roll of gauze. Without looking away from Allison's neck, he caught it and finished up cleaning and putting on antibiotics before wrapping her throat.

"You cannot speak. I want you to have a full recovery. There are minor burns along you esophagus." Melissa stated.

"I have a few remedies that will lessen the pain," Deaton said.

The vet sat with Jackson, helping him tend to Chris who was still out of it. He widened his eyes and shook his head with grumbles.

"I'm going to take him upstairs for a head CT," Melissa said, watching him worriedly.

Allison looked at Scott, her breath skipping. She squeezed his hand, scared.

"I'll go with him," Derek offered. "It's probably just a concussion. A rough one."

Scott gave a respective nod and then grabbed Allison's attention, caressing her face. Her lips pressed together. The worry in her eyes didn't lessen.

Melissa, Derek and Chris left the room, but not before Melissa put Chris in a wheelchair. He wasn't happy about it, but she threatened to stick Derek on him if he kept saying no. A look of intrigue crossed over the alpha's face at being volunteered. It was small but noticeable. Chris caved and sat down in the wheelchair. Lydia took over for Derek and helped comfort Allison. She glanced over at Parrish out of the corner of her eye with great discomfort. She shifted from foot to foot and eventually turning her back on him. Both Melanie and Scott noticed and shared a look of curiosity.

After everyone was discharged with the exception of Parrish, they all split for home. Allison and Lydia stayed together. Deaton made sure to get the antibiotics to help with the pain to the girls before heading home as well. Chris was fine. There wasn't anything seriously wrong with him. He just took a really hard hit to the head so it was heavily bruised and he was going to be out of it for a couple of weeks. Isaac had already called Derek to let him know that Trenton was officially not their problem anymore. He had a nice comfy room on the secret floor in Eichen House.

Melanie wanted more than anything to have Isaac back in her bed so that she could finally have a good night's sleep with his arms around her. She waited downstairs in the living room until he got home. Her favorite TV show was starting a marathon anyway. The sun was christening the trees by the time they got to bed.

Last Haven was closed for the day and night. None of the pack made it to class. For most of them it was to catch up on sleep, but for Stiles it was different.

Cora helped him pack the jeep with his belongings. His Dad stood on the porch watching the two of them as they bantered and nudged one another while packing. He hadn't even noticed his son growing up and here he was leaving the house already. That sinking feeling in his chest was normal, he told himself. It was natural to not want to let go and to think Stiles wasn't ready for this. The Sheriff had been to the loft a few times. It was turning into a shapely place. When asked about it, Cora described the plan she had for the place. It was promising.

After the last box was loaded on top, Stiles turned, coming to the back and leaned against the jeep. He stuffed his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

"So this is it, huh?" His father said.

Stiles gave a slow nod. And looked up at the house. There were a lot of memories in the cracks and crevices of this place. Some of which he made himself. He smiled softly, remembering falling over the porch banister to the ground. Scott had scared the crap out of him.

"Yeah, I guess it is," Stiles said still hanging on nostalgia. "The good news is that I'll only be downtown."

He smiled. His father pulled him into a hug.

"I'm so proud of you," he said low in his ear.

"Don't worry." Stiles said. Because his Dad always did. "I'll still be coming over for dinner since Cora can't cook."

He nodded back at her. Cora's head thrust out the window and she scowled at him. She was not particularly pleased. The Sheriff let out a hearty chuckle.

"She heard me?" Stiles pressed both of his lips between his teeth.

"Yeah," Mr. Stilinski replied.

"Great!" Stiles squeaked with a weak nod. He pointed over his shoulder. "I should, us, I should go."

Mr. Stilinski nodded and watched as his son got into that old heap and pulled off the driveway into the street. He couldn't put into words how much pride he felt for his son. He'd come a long way. All of the kids had. And with all of the extra going-ons of this town too.

Mr. Stilinski looked up at the sky. Late afternoon had blended into early evening. The sun turned gold. The static of his radio could be heard from inside. Another night, another call. Sounded like a disturbance.

"I'm on my way in," he said into the radio.