"Deaton, are you sure?" Peter Hale bristled.
The doctor didn't look up from his work.
"I assure you Mister Hale, I wouldn't have said it if it weren't true."
Scott shifted his weight around, trying to process the new load of dangerous information his boss had just thrown onto him.
"So, wait." He started.
"Deucalion has a daughter?" Isaac muttered incredulously.
The people in the room transformed from rigid, stiff bodies to defeated and tired ones. Stiles collapsed in a chair, Allison's shoulders slumped, and Derek's eyes went vacant.
"I don't think this town has room for demon wolf offspring." Peter spat, standing again to pace.
"That's not entirely true." Deaton replied cryptically.
Peter glanced at him before surveying the others. Just like him, they were worn and run down from fighting the alphas, Jennifer Blake in tow. If the doctor did concoct some sort of plan, it would be the only one they had. Peter sighed deeply before motioning Deaton to continue.
"I'm listening."
"Good. Because what I'm about to tell you is a very complex and elaborate operation that requires every detail be followed to the tee."
He locked eyes with everyone gathered around the cold steel surgical table to show how gravely serious he was. He had their attention.
"Remember how I said there is one true alpha every hundred years, Scott?" The wise man asked.
Scott nodded, as there was no way he could forget.
"You and Derek agreed that you would control the pack jointly, that's correct?
The young leader nodded once again.
"Well, like the Druids, every young werewolf has a choice; to grow into something so much bigger than themselves, rising up to protect the pack. Those are the Alphas. The Betas, the usually loyal members of the clan, work together to strengthen the pack, and support the Alpha. Or the wolf chooses to fall behind, ride on the tails of the pack, and eventually fade away. The Omegas. "
"Yes, we get that, but what does it have to do with Deucalion's kid?" Stiles sputtered, his words rife with frustration.
"There is one more classification, lesser known and more legendary than even a true alpha." Deaton's voice resonated with a hint of awe, and he enunciated each syllable carefully.
"There are those, who are birthed from the filth and desecration of the pack, who not only rise above their outcast status to become a powerful alpha themselves, but also become leaders that are known throughout history."
"That sounds like a true alpha to me." Allison chided.
He shook his head slightly "No, you misunderstand. These wolves may be alphas, but they pledge their loyalty to the leader, or in this case, leaders, of a pack of their choosing, for life. These are the Emissaries."
He grabbed a few bottles and began to tidy the room as he finished.
"Jennifer Blake was an Emissary to Kali, and she ended up impaling her with a few hundred pieces of glass. Loyalty doesn't seem to be at the top of the list when it comes to self-preservation." Derek muttered bitterly.
"I understand where you come from with that thought, Derek, but she was a self-appointed emissary. She was just another expendable part of the pack until it truly came down to life or death. I'm talking about a real Emissary. They have one pack and one pack only, their family, and they would do anything to protect the other members. Even if that means laying down their lives for their alpha in a heartbeat, Even if that means, never getting to say goodbye one last time. That, is the true duty of a proper Emissary."
Without another word, he turned from the group and began restocking the shelves with canine heartworm medication, leaving them to wonder what exactly he was hinting at.
"Doc, this has all been dandy, with the history lesson and all, but what is the point?" Stiles rasped out, exasperated.
"I'm sorry?" Deaton turned suddenly, as if the question had brought him out of his own thoughts.
Stiles eyed him intensely for a moment, shaking his head.
"I need more Adderall, because this …" he trailed off, motioning the air about the tightly packed room furiously.
"This is nuts…" he stood up and left the room to retrieve his medication.
"To answer Mr. Stilinsky's question, I told you all this because indeed, Deucalion's child is an Emissary. She has the power to unify your pack, Scott, to make it feel whole. She's rough around the edges, but all she needs is someone who can believe in her and a pack to love, and lover her, unconditionally."
Deaton finished and stared into the faces of the werewolf pack.
Scott took a breath and turned to Derek. Derek tensed up, his eyes narrowing to slits.
"No. Absolutely not, Scott." He growled from deep in his chest.
"Derek-"Scott started.
"I said no! Are you trying to put our entire pack, OUR family at risk? This is the spawn of a demon wolf, not some little scrappy omega you brought home from the woods."
Derek's fist hit the table, causing everyone, including himself, to jump.
"Derek." Cora, who hadn't spoken at all since their departure from home, stroked his arm soothingly.
"You would have done it for me." She pleaded quietly.
"You did do it for me. I could have been anything after eight years. A murderer. An uncontrollable monster."
Derek shut his eyes tightly, as if he could bar his sister's words of reason from his mind this way.
"You did it for me." She repeated. This time the words hung there, as if nailed to his ears, and positively digging at the very seams of his soul.
"Okay."
It came out more as a broken whisper. He nodded to Scott without meeting his eyes, he couldn't. If something ever happened to Scott, he wouldn't know what to do. He was like family to Derek, just like the rest of the group, even Lydia, Stiles and Allison. His only family, he wouldn't allow someone to destroy that.
Scott looked to Deaton and nodded.
"Okay." Scott echoed Derek.
"Please trust me on this." The Doctor insisted.
"Abbey had been taking the child to me for medical care since she and Deucalion welcomed her to the world. Up until Abbey passed, that is." He rubbed his forehead.
"Her mom is gone? Isaac's voiced piped up.
"Yes, cancer took Abbey, unfortunately. The girl took it as any 8 year old child would, She was distraught and confused, but she learned to handle it… better than most. I see her every now and again, but it just isn't enough. It will soon be time for her to find a pack to call her own, and she shouldn't face it alone."
He concluded, but it was blatant that there was more on his mind. Everyone needed time to digest the information that had just been presented, but Scott had just one more thing he needed to know before proceeding in Deaton's plan.
"Who is she?" he asked.
"It's going to come as a bit of a shock to you, Scott. Are you sure you want to know?" His eyes squinted at him in uncertainty.
"I have to know." Scott replied without skipping a beat. He was an alpha now, he had to be prepared no matter what surprises came.
"Her name, is Octavia Morgan. She attends Beacon Hills High school alongside you, Lydia, Stiles, Allison and Isaac, but she's 2 grades behind you, and she has no idea what she, or her father, stands for." He said heavily.
Scott and Stiles' eyes locked. They knew Octavia. Ever since she was in kindergarten, she would hold the doors for everybody coming in from recess. She was especially sweet to Stiles, because she knew he had a hard time with panic attacks, and she always had a soft spot for Scott as well. Even up to this day, it was her who held the doors for the students of Beacon Hills, and on the rare days they'd noticed her, the boys were always prompted by the sweetest smile and a genuine "Good morning.", to which they always replied back "Good morning, Olive!" Her name, Octavia, which Scott and Stiles agreed earlier seemed more like an evil villain's name, was the only thing given to her by her estranged father who left years before. Scott felt such an ugly name didn't fit a cute little girl, so instead, he and Stiles settled on the nickname, Olive.
They broke eye contact, and the memories of Octavia Morgan subsided and crawled back into the small space where they belonged, and when their eyes met once again, it wasn't to share memories, but instead to convey a message
"You'll keep her safe, won't you Scott?" Stiles' eyes pleaded desperately with Scott's.
In return Scott gave a terse yet precise nod, assuring Stiles that no harm would come to Octavia. Deaton sent everyone home, as it was 12:50 in the morning. As Scott made his way toward the Jeep where he knew the other half of the awkward duo would be waiting.
"You can trust it, Stiles." Scott said after standing several minutes in the rain.
He looked at his best friend, slightly puzzled.
"Trust what?" He asked
"I'll keep her safe."
"You can trust my word."