DUUUUUDE!

Thanks for all the feedback guys, you blew up my inbox and TOTALLY made my day.

Unfortunately I won't be able to update this often. I have a summer job and I'm a REALLY slow typer.

But ... this was what I didn't post yesterday. I was waiting to see if I got a response (and boy did I get one.)

Sorry for any and all grammer mistakes and typos, I'm a lazy dyslexic so thats a recipe for failed english.

I'll try to update weekly if I can, but no promises.

Again thank you for your support 3 it means a lot.

Scott was already out the door. Stiles was holding on to the operating table as if it was the last raft off the Titanic. Dr. Deaton was looking through a drawer on the other side of the room.

"Stiles." he called to him, his tone equally soothing and commanding, "I cannot treat her as a cat because there is the danger of her morphing into a human and injuring herself further, nor can I take her to the hospital where she will transform into cat when she is weak." he paused, "I need you to have a little courage." Dr. Deaton looked intently at Stiles, willing him to understand the gravity of the situation. "I'm going to force her into human consciousness. I need you to hold her down while I heal her. That means I will be stitching her up." he looked at Stiles with the harsh reality. "I do not have sufficient pain medication nor the time to obtain any. If I don't stop the bleeding, she will die."

Stiles breathing became ragged. He tried to suppress the dry heaves the smell of blood was already giving him.

"Can you do that for her?" Dr. Deaton's voice seemed to come from far away.

"Sure, Doc. Anything you say." Stiles gulped in air, careful not to breathe through his nose.

"Alright." Dr. Deaton opened a small glass vile and smeared a blue paste in a line down Martin's face. Her eyes flew open. Her legs stretched down, her arms stretched out, wild dark hair tumbled from her scalp. The girl was back. She looked about Stiles' age. Her eyes were a pale green, like peppermint, and were currently zooming around the room looking for an attacker. Stiles leaned over her. She focused on him, her body seemed to relax a bit.

"Hey." His voice cracked. He held her hand. "This is, this is Dr. Deaton. H-he's going to take care of you, okay? It's going to be alright, but you have to trust me." She squeezed his hand, tears drawing white lines in the blood on her face. He felt his lip tremble. "But it's going to hurt." He brushed hair out of her face with trembling fingers. "Don't worry, I'll be here the whole time. I won't leave you." She pulled his hand in hers to her face, pressing her lips to knuckles.

"Thank you, Stiles." She rasped.

Dr. Deaton was spreading a thick yellow sap over her wounds, disinfecting them.

"Ready?" He asked her. She nodded, eyes closed stoically. He looked at Stiles who took a deep breath.

"Ready."

Dr. Deaton started stitching. The veins stood out on Martin's neck as she tried to contain her screams. She convulsed involuntarily forcing Stiles to hold her down by her shoulders. She shuddered and twitched in agony, trying as hard as she could not to move. Stiles found a place on the wall to focus on, fearing he would be unable to continue should he realize what he was doing. Horrible sounds escaped with her rapid breathing, she hooked her legs around the base of the table. Some of the skin had already started to die in her speedy healing abilities. Dr. Deaton sniped it away with surgical scissors, too safely lost in his work to betray his emotions. He used tweezers to remove rocks and other things that had contaminated her wounds in the dirt.

Stiles couldn't help himself, he watched as the needle pushed and pulled her skin, closing the chasm where her vitals loomed dangerously close to the surface. The silver pin glinted off the light coming in from the window. She held onto Stiles as of he was the only solid thing left on earth. He was putting his full weight on her but in wasn't enough. Dr. Deaton added what weight he could but still she impulsively squirmed under the onslaught.

Soon her gasps died down to occasional whimpers. They were almost done. Dr. Deaton shot Stiles a wide eyed look. Stiles looked back, trying to understand what he was trying to convey. The doctor looked pointedly at Martin, whose head was turned into Stiles' arm. Stiles gripped her tighter, prepared for whatever Dr. Deaton was about to do. Dr. Deaton slipped one hand behind her back and rested the other under her breast. Her eyes shot open.

"No, wait!" She cried. There was a sickening snap. She screamed, jerking wildly, but Stiles hung on murmuring words of comfort. Dr. Deaton reset her ribs as she gasped pathetically, crying silently into Stiles arm.

"One more." sighed the doctor. She held on for dear life. Crack. Dr. Deaton set her leg. He moved on to bandage less deadly cuts and scraps. Stiles stroked her forehead tenderly, shushing and chanting in her ear. "It's done, you're okay, we're done, you're fine, no more, it's okay, it's okay."

Her breathing slowed and her eyes fluttered, but she fought sleep.

"It's alright." said Dr. Deaton "You can sleep now, you won't turn back."

Martin had no energy to even answer. Her flesh sank into the table, her body relaxed, she shuddered into a dreamless painless sleep. Dr. Deaton took a clean folded blanket out of a kennel and threw it over her.

"I think we should preserve her dignity, don't you agree Mr. Stilinski?"

Stiles nodded unable to speak. He slowly untangled himself from her, taking great care not to disturb her slumber. He stood up shakily, leaning against a counter top for support. The silence stretched on.

"I think I'll make myself a cup of tea, would you like one?" asked the doctor, looking concertedly at the young man. Stiles shook his head, still unable to find his voice. "I insist. You've been through a traumatic experience and I think you should sit down." Stiles nodded and made his way clumsily to the waiting room.

Stiles sat in one of the chairs, shaking uncontrollably, his head in his hands. Moments later he was brought a hot cup of tea.

"What is she, Doc?" he whispered, unable to attain anymore volume.

"There is no name for what she is." said the doctor quietly, taking a seat beside him. "You could call her a werecat if you wish, but thats not entirely accurate-"

"Doc, please. No riddles today." Stiles rubbed his eyes, suddenly exhausted. "Just tell me." Dr. Deaton turned his mug in his hands, staring into it's depths.

"Her name is Five." he sighed. "Shes one of the Cat Walkers, or Cat People."

"Cat Walkers?" Stiles gulped. "What did this to her?" he breathed, unable to fathom who would hurt her.

"One of her pride I assume," said the doctor, lost in thought. "probably as a message to Derek." he paused, debating how much of the story to tell. "Cat Walkers and their prides are different then Werewolf packs. Their Alpha has absolute power over the group."

"So does Derek." objected Stiles.

"Not entirely." he reasoned. "Derek, like all Werewolf Alphas, has power only through respect, loyalty, and blood. Any one of his pack could leave if they wished, join a new pack, go solo. Cat Walkers are bound to their Alpha by ancient magic. They cannot leave unless he or she gives permission, or in rare cases, if they are bound to another. They have to obey the Alphas every command, cater to his or her needs, and serve them without question. Their happiness is solely dependent on their Alpha's." he paused, looking sadly at his tea. "This is not the first time Five has come here."

"She's trying to get away." Stiles voice cracked. Dr. Deaton nodded.

"Her Alpha, Renu, is a cruel man. Derek and her met when they were still young. She was sent first to infiltrate his pack. Derek's mother was Alpha at the time, and she took Five in, thinking that somehow the little girl had broken her enchantment. This was not the case."

Five stirred. The two froze, waiting for her to wake up or fall back to sleep. Her head lolled to the side and she fell back into dormancy.

"At some point her loyalties divided." Dr. Deaton continued. "She is still soul-bound to Renu, but someone . . . someone in the Hale pack broke her or claimed her enough to allow her to tell them everything. How Renu had sent her, what he was and what he was going to do, and because of her the Hales were prepared when Renu came."

"What was he going to do?" asked Stiles.

"Renu," started the doctor softly, "was going to massacre them all. The entire Hale line. The women, the children, wolf, human, everyone. And when he was done, he wanted their land as hunting ground."

"Hunting ground?" echoed Stiles, horrified.

"A Cat Walkers' prefered diet..." he turned to face Stiles, and ancient sadness in his eyes. "is people."

Stiles sat in silence. Unaware that he had stopped breathing. Small ripples formed in his untouched drink as he tried to comprehend what he had just been told.

"When a Cat Walker betrays their Alpha, the bond they share doubles to eliminate the possibility of it reoccurring." Dr. Deaton continued, "Later Renu attacked again, punishment for contaminating his pride, but Five escaped to warn the Hales of his attack one more. Renu was severally injured and forced to retreat."

"So 'He's coming' . . . Does she mean Renu?" asked Stiles. Dr. Deaton nodded

"I thinks it's safe to assume so." he pondered softly. "To my knowledge, Five caused quite a commotion in the unnatural world. The one thing an Alpha has to ask permission for is claim, and Five has always refused. Without claim she cannot access her true form, doomed to be either cat or human, never both. Renu has kept her out of spite for disobeying him, and a twisted love for her rebelliousness. She was his favorite." he paused. "If he banished her, she would die."

"Just like that?" Stiles asked softly.

"Unfortunately no, it's a very long and painful process. Months of incurable pain and sadness. She would starve, whither away or commit suicide." he stated blankly.

The sat in the waiting room quietly. Dr. Deaton and Stiles were lost in their own worlds. Stiles gazed at Five.

"Why is her name Five?"

"She was the fifth born in her litter." Dr. Deaton said simply. Out of everything, this put a fire in Stiles' belly. No one had even given her a real name. She looked so helpless, lying on the table, her brow furrowed from something in her dreams. He would find a way to free her, he promised himself. He had to.

The front door opened with a bang! Derek stormed in, followed by Scott and Isaac.

"Where is she?" Derek commanded, ablaze with purpose. He saw Five through the door way and swept towards her only to be blocked by Stiles. Both looked shocked by the predicament.

"Move." he demanded. "I don't ask twice." Danger flashed in Derek's eyes.

"S-she's sleeping, you can't go back there." Stiles stammered.

"Stiles." Derek picked him up by the front of his shirt. "Move." and he dropped him to his left, and went to go through. Stiles threw his arm out, trying to deter him again.

"She needs to rest Derek." Derek looked at him incredulously before shoving him hard in the chest to the side.

"Please Derek, she's hurt." Stiles protested, rubbing his shoulder. Derek paused at the door, scrutinizing the sleeping girl. He seemed to shrink a little bit, his hands flexed, and he slowly closed the door on her. He didn't move for a while, they all waited patiently. He turned to face Dr. Deaton.

"What. Happened." he growled.

"I was not the one who found her." the doctor replied cooly. There was always a tension between the Doc and Derek that no one quite understood, but it pulsed violently in the room like a heartbeat. Dr. Deaton pointed at Stiles, who looked a little scared but held his ground as Derek closed the space between them in three paces.

"Stiles, you have 60 seconds to tell me everything before I rip your throat out."

"Um. Just 60 seconds?" piped Stiles backing into the wall, "Because that seems kinda short to tell you all the things that-"

"50"

"Okay! Um, I found this cat in the road and it was kind of wobbling around, and then there was a car, and I took him uh her inside and then the Doc said to feed her fever and take her rabbits, then she left the bathroom light on and my dad thought I was sleeping around so we slept together-"

Derek pushed Stiles into the wall, growling angrily "She was a cat! She slept on my bed! I didn't know! It's a little awkward now because of the petroleum jelly, you know. Because... um then I went to school and Scott said she was B12 Blue Cat from Africa so I went home and my room was trashed and she was in the grass with her guts hanging out-"

Derek shoved him ruffly, holding Stiles up against the wall, his toes barely touching the floor. Stiles decided his time was almost up so he spoke quickly, his words overlapping each other. "Ahhhhhhhh. So I took her here, and she freakout when she saw Scott and then I had to hold her down while we stitched her up and thats all that happened." Derek started to let go but then Stiles remembered something, "Except for the shadows." Derek returned Stiles to his former altitude pressing him painfully into the concrete. "Oh my god, why do you have to do that?" Stiles whined.

"What about the shadows?" he barked.

"Owowow, okay, could you please be a bit more gentle?"

"STILES!"

"Okay! Alright. I saw some big things in the trees on the way home, I couldn't see what they were but they were there. Thats it, thats all, thats all I swear." Derek lowered Stiles to the ground, glaring at him.

Derek turned into the room, his forehead wrinkled with thought. Isaac blinked a couple times.

"I'm sorry, did that make sense? Because I couldn't follow that." he blurted.

"Derek we have to prepare-" started Dr. Deaton.

"We don't know for-" Derek reasoned

"Yes we do."

"Whats going on." Isaac asked

"Who is she Derek?" Scott broke in.

"We can answer that later, right now-"

"I want to know whats going on."

"Where did she come from?"

"Who's 'He' Derek?"

"Derek-"

"What do we do?"

"Derek-"

"Derek-"

"WHO IS 'HE' DEREK"

"Renu." They all turned to face Stiles. Something old had taken root in Stiles eyes, he seemed tired and sad. "His name is Renu."