This is going to be a quick fic, because it's probably going to get Jossed by Monday's episode, so it will be one chapter a day until Monday. This will be the shortest chapter, by far.

For the record, I personally don't really think Erica is dead (that was Heather's body, mark my words), but for the intents of this fic, she is and that was her body Allison saw.

Erica Reyes dies on a Tuesday, but she does not leave. She watches them drag away her body and dump it in a closet, because apparently the supernatural pack of ultra-powerful creatures can't bother to even dispose of the teenager they've murdered properly.

In the dark of the closet, it takes her a while to make sense of it. Yes, that is her body she is staring at, and when she tries to move her hand it stays still. Her chest is still. Her entire body is still.

It is missing a finger.

She is overwhelmed with the feeling that something is wrong, and she braces herself for the taste of blood, because when things go sideways with her mind and body, the taste of blood always follows. But it does not come. There is only its metallic smell, and she knows where that comes from.

Boyd's voice bleeds through the stone walls, stabbing at her, and she can hear screaming of a girl, and it may be some other victim, but she thinks it is her. Kali, who is the most unhinged, the most rabid.

Kali, who decided killing her was a wonderful way to pass the time.

Erica decides she does not want to hear anymore, or smell, or taste (just in case), and just like that, she doesn't. It is only her, pushed up against the wall of the closet, and what was once her crumpled in the corner, dead.

She makes little noises at first, small sobs that just barely bubble out of her lips. Testing. When no one comes, she screams.

~v~v~

She only comes back to herself because Isaac is there, and he smells like fear. She cannot see him, but she knows intrinsically that he is just outside the door. She has him, and he smells like grief under all the fear. Fear strikes her as her thoughts immediately go to Boyd, because some other sense calms her. No. Boyd is alive. She doesn't know how she knows, but she does. It must be her Isaac is mourning, and she thinks it makes sense. The smell of dead pack mate is something she has never had to smell, but it must be overwhelming.

He is screaming now, and Erica remembers when they used to be scared together. Her of her own body, he of his own father. They never talked, never shared more than a glance, but they knew each other. She was glad when he was there once she had turned, and she'll never admit it to him, but she cried when he refused to run away with them.

"I wouldn't want to be a third wheel," he had joked weakly, glancing down at their joint hands, but that wasn't why and they all knew it.

There is more commotion outside, a new voice, this one female. It doesn't send chills down Erica's spine, but maybe that's because her spine is currently snapped in half and no longer attached to her consciousness.

Isaac is still screaming, and Erica stops listening, retreating back to where she can't find herself.

~v~v~

Something pulls her out. It is white, like space does not exist, and there is a woman. Erica is making choked, broken noises, and she can't seem to stop.

"You need to snap out of it," the woman says. She is stunningly beautiful, and eerily familiar. Her expression is hostile, but she smells like something warm and safe.

Erica continues to cry, and the woman seems unfazed.

"Yes, you're dead and scared. I get it, but cut it out."

She makes no attempt to quiet herself, because where even is she, and what happened to Isaac? The woman rolls her eyes. "First of all, get up. Stop lying there."

"I-" Erica hasn't sounded this pathetic since Derek changed her. "I think I'm dead."

"Yes," the woman says. "It is. That doesn't mean you are. Come on. Mind over matter. Actually, it's just mind. No matter here." Her tone is detached, almost bored with Erica's plight, and after a moment with no progress, she stomps her foot against the space where ground should be. Actually stomps it. Like a small child would, but in a way that is so much more intimidating.

"Come on!" she screams, and something stirs within Erica. The authority of an Alpha. Not her Alpha…but it still doesn't feel the way it did when they gave her orders. This woman has power over her, and terror is surging through her. Her breath is catching, and a keening noise builds up in her throat- her throat.

It's there. She clutches at it with hands that she can suddenly feel, and she touches where her vocal chords vibrate.

"There you go," the woman says, no praise in her tone. "Get the hang of it. I don't have all day."

"I don't-" Erica says, and her voice is stronger now. "I'm dead."

"Yes, you are," the woman says. "That's a shame, but you're lucky, kid. You get to stay and help. That's what I'm here for."

"I have to go back?!" Erica asks, voice cracking as she wipes at the tears are running down her cheeks.

"No," she says, holding up a finger. "I mean yes. You do have to go back. But no more talking. There really isn't that much time." She pulls in a breath, tugging at her shirt, a gray form-fitting blouse.

"Alright, kid, here's the deal. Yes, you're dead. The Alpha pack killed you. It wasn't pretty, and there's no bringing you back." She pauses. "Have you heard about Peter?"

Erica stares blankly.

"Hale? Derek's uncle? Killed a bunch of people?"

Erica nods, a brief mention from Scott coming to mind.

"Well, he was resurrected. But that's not going to work for you. You're dead for good."

"Am I going to Hell?" Erica asks, because she constantly wonders about that. What does turning into a werewolf do to your soul?

The woman shakes her head. "What did I say about talking? I don't know about Hell. What you need to know is that there's stages of death. You're in one, I'm in another. I can see things that happen in the other realm. I can watch people, and I can talk with other dead people. Like you. But you, Erica? You still live in that realm. You're barely there, but you're there, and that's why I need you."

Erica stares for a moment longer, trying to will her pulse into slowing, and it comes to her. "You're Laura, aren't you?"

For the first time, the woman's expression changes. She smiles at Erica, surprised and endlessly sad. "Yes," she says simply. "And I need you to save my siblings. So I'm sorry, kid. I really am, but I need to use you."

And then the world snaps back.

I've never written for this fandom before, so I would really love feedback. Also, sorry for the unbeta'd state of this fic.