A/N: Thank you for those that have taken the time to post reviews. I appreciate knowing you guys are enjoying my writing.

So I'm trying something slightly different for this chapter, writing it in the 3rd person narrative from Derek's POV. Originally I planned to stick primarily to Holly's POV, but was curious how Holly would look from a different POV. I'd like to know what you guys think. My main concern is I want to stay true to the voice of the canon characters, so please review and let me know. Thanks and enjoy!

Chapter 2 – Crane Style

The warmth of the sun caressing his skin woke him.

The stab of pain shooting through every muscle in his body chased away the possibility of falling back asleep. He tried to recall the course of events from the previous night. He remembered fighting two of the alphas. Though he never got a good look at either of them, he was positive they represented the two sexes. He remembered running, quite possibly, for his life. At the time, it seemed the only viable option to dying. At the time, he told himself he ran for Isaac, Boyd, and Erica's sake. But lying to himself had never been a trick Derek was good at. Isaac, Boyd and Erica hadn't been the only reason he ran. He ran because dying hadn't been an option. At least not one he was willing to take.

Not like that. And definitely not taken down by them.

Slowly he opened his eyes. Half expecting the light to hurt them and completely surprised when the pain never came. The two questions of where was he, and how did he get there were answered the moment he turned his gaze to the woman sleeping next to him.

She lay on her side with one arm tucked under her pillow, and the other ending with her hand partially curled next to her cheek. The same sun that woke him caressed her face and gave her caramel complexion an almost ethereal glow.

Holly.

Unlike him, who seemed to be missing his shirt, Holly retained the majority of her clothing with the exception of her shoes. She had removed his shirt in order to bandage his chest, and covered him with what felt like the world's softest blanket. No blanket covered her, giving an unobstructed view of a slightly rumbled button down lavender shirt and a black pencil skirt. The skirt fared far worse than the shirt. Not only had the material bunched and twisted to create wrinkles, but the slit fell victim to the night's events and transformed the slit into an unnatural tear halfway up the length of her thigh.

The longer he watched her, the more glimpses he received about the past eight or so hours. Had Derek been at his peak, he might have avoided her car instead of ending up a hood ornament. From there, his memory became more sporadic. He remembered her helping him to the car, sitting in the car and sitting in a parking lot somewhere. But he didn't know where they were now, or how she got him there. At least he wasn't in a hospital.

He remembered making her promise not to take him. The last thing he needed was to try to explain to a doctor why the wounds they admitted him with were already healed.

Healed.

He almost scoffed at that. His skin mended over the external injuries but he could still feel the internal damage. Those healed much slower. He needed to get back to his family's home. He would find the natural remedies he needed to help speed the process there. But first thing was first.

Slowly Derek pushed himself into a seated position, testing the limits of his physical abilities. His body hurt, it felt like it was on fire but that was a good sign. It meant it was still healing, that it hadn't stalled out. At least not yet. He gently swept the blanket to the side, relieved at the visual confirmation that Holly didn't remove his jeans along with his shirt. He felt vulnerable enough not knowing his location, though as he looked around the room he could hazard an educated guess.

The bed didn't move or utter any sounds of protest under his shifting weight, but as he swung his legs over the side, he heard the subtle shift in Holly's breathing. She grumbled something he couldn't quite make out and he turned around in time to see her stretch onto her stomach, reach her hand out to touch where his body should have been, and snap instantly awake.

"Derek?"

She pushed herself up with one hand and pushed a mess of unruly cinnamon colored curls out of her face. The lingering veil of sleep and his movement resulted in what Derek decided was quite possibly the most adorable look of confusion he'd seen in years.

She rubbed a hand against the back of her eyes and crawled across the bed to him immediately gripping him in a bear tight hug. Had his body not been aching the embrace would have been welcomed. Now it just lit him on fire and reminded him of how well he was not.

Still it had been years since he'd seen Holly. Her scent, as always, was a comforting balm. He turned, gritted his teeth so he didn't verbalize the pain, and wrapped her in the strong embrace she was expecting.

"Thank God," she sighed still clinging to him. "I thought you were going to die. I seriously thought you were going to die last night. I've never seen anything like that in my life. Please do not do that to me again."

She finally released him, and Derek found himself staring into familiar brown eyes.

"You shouldn't be moving around."

"I feel fine," he lied and looked down at a garbage can filled with bloody bandages, and then rubbed a hand over the ones covering his stomach.

"I should look at those."

"No," he spoke softly and caught her wrist, immediately releasing it at her soft gasp. "It's okay. You've already taken care of me enough."

"Well, I did hit you with my car. It's the least I could do."

He watched as she censored herself. He saw it in her eyes. A question, a statement, something else she planned to add but decided to hold back in favor of climbing off the bed and pulling the curtains opened. Derek had always been able to read Holly, but then he figured her tells out at a pretty early age. And apparently, she hadn't changed over the years.

"This is your parent's place?"

Derek cautiously pushed off the bed to his feet, not completely certain his legs were going to support his weight. Vertical helped. Like the elevation helped to convince his body he was okay. Or maybe it just cleared his head. He always did his best thinking on his feet.

He moved to the window and let his gaze wash over part of Holly's backyard. He couldn't help but notice the bareness of the patio. It had been a while since he'd been at her house. Mr. Williams wasn't one of Derek's fans, even though he protected his daughter. Not that Derek gave a damn. Mr. Williams had never made his favorite persons' list either. Not when half the time he was protecting Holly, it was from her own father.

Derek considered slipping out through the window. His self-control was excellent, but a confrontation with Mr. Williams might be more than he could handle in his current state. Injured wolves tended to attack when provoked. And Mr. Williams always provoked him.

"Not to sound unappreciative, but why did you bring me here?"

"You don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

She chuckled and moved to stand next to him, arms folded over her stomach. "You made me promise not to take you to the hospital. You had this look on your face like Max used to get whenever he realized we were taking him to the vet."

He chuckled at that. He shouldn't have since it tugged against his internal injuries, but Holly always made him laugh. Especially when he didn't want to, like it was her personal mission.

"And you passed out before telling me where you lived. It was here or the alley behind Baker's Dozen. I figured the bed might be a little more comfortable."

He smirked. "Where's your father? Or did time soften his heart towards me?"

Her pause caused him to glance in her direction. The words that followed focused his full attention on her.

"He doesn't have anything to say on the subject of you, or any subject for that matter. He's in Beacon Hill Cemetery."

"Holly—"

"—Are you hungry? I'm starving so you must be famished."

Derek turned and followed her with his gaze as she retreated to the door. The slight smile she inspired earlier disappeared until it flipped in the opposite direction. She turned and stared at him when she reached her destination. Her fingers lingering on the wood, lightly drumming.

"Scrambled eggs and bacon okay? You still like them scrambled right?"

"Yes," he answered. "Scrambled eggs and bacon sound delicious."

Holly nodded and gestured to another door to his left. "You can use the shower right through there. I'll leave a shirt and some extra bandages on the bed."

"Thanks Holly," he offered lamely.

Derek knew he should have said more. Offered his condolences. Asked her when it happened, what happened, how she felt. Sure she made it obvious she didn't want to talk about it, which was why he should have made her confront it. It's what she would have done to him. She would have kept pestering him until he exploded and yelled and punched a hole in the wall, but the anger would have been outside, not twisting inside like a knot. And when all was said and done he would have felt better.

But Derek had other things pressing on his mind. And no matter how good it was to see his friend, or how much she needed him to be that shoulder, he couldn't. Not now. Not when Isaac was out there.

A quick pat to his pockets determined his phone to be missing. Finding the alphas… not the problem. Finding where they alphas were keeping Boyd and Erica… problem. Hopefully Isaac had better luck.

One by one he peeled the bandages off and tossed them into the trashcan with the others. His skin told no story of the fight he had last night between the alphas... One had been a woman. At one time pretty but if that pedicure was any indication, she'd spent so much time in her wolf form she seemed to lack the ability to change back completely.

His jeans were next to be discarded onto the bed. The movement reminded him even though the surface wounds were healed the deeper ones still existed. Eating would help charge his metabolism until he could get back to his family home.

Naked, he padded into the bathroom, turned on the water and tentatively stepped under the jets. Droplets rained over his skin like the cascading flow of a waterfall. He braced a hand against the tile, tilted his head back and let the water drizzle over his face, neck, shoulders, and run over his back and torso. The water helped. The heat helped. Everything would help, even movement eventually. Once his body recovered enough, movement would speed the healing. But for the time being, Derek enjoyed the feeling of the hot water against his skin and tried not to think of how well and truly fucked he was.

Even if… no… when. Even when the found Erica and Boyd he had absolutely no idea how he would get them back. Last night he fought two and damn near died. One he could take, but it's not like they would just stand ringside and let him fight them one at a time. Two he might be able to handle at the same time under the best possible set of circumstances, but how many did that leave? Three? Four?

Isaac had improved. He was better and faster, but Isaac wouldn't be able to take on an alpha. At less than a year into the transformation, no bitten wolf could. Scott, maybe. But was different. Driven to protect everyone. Even those he didn't know. Even those he didn't like. He did it because it was the right thing to do. But Derek tucked Scott McCall into the last resort pile. Peter had taken Scott's adolescence away when he bit him. And what Peter hadn't taken, Kanima finished. Well he and the Kanima. Derek held no illusions. Knew he was as much to blame as Peter and the Kanima. He also knew what it was like to grow up way too fast. He promised to keep Scott out of his problems as much as possible.

The plan seemed to be working, so far. But Derek didn't hold out hope it would last forever. Scott was still a werewolf, and he still lived in Beacon Hill. The alpha situation hadn't touched him yet, but the spillage was coming.

Derek didn't think he spent a long time under the jets. The water never turned cold as it did in his loft, but by the time he returned to the room the smell of cooked bacon tickled his nose and teased his stomach. It reminding him the last time he ate, the sun had been out yesterday. He dried off and dressed quickly. Slipping his jeans back on and pulling a tan long sleeve shirt Holly left on the bed. Her father's, he assumed, since it fit him perfectly. Mr. Williams had been a solidly built man.

Once he slipped his shoes on, Derek followed his nose to the kitchen. It was on the tip of his tongue to announce his arrival but he opted instead to silently take a seat on one of the barstools and observe Holly at the stove.

She showered as well. The ripped skit replaced by a pair of gray pants with thin black pinstripes. The legs of the slacks were wide but the material around her hips and butt formed around the curve of her body. Curved around hips and a butt he didn't remember her having six years ago. A jacket that matched the pants was draped over the back of the barstool next to him, leaving her torso covered in a white silk tank top of some sort. The unruly curls from early washed, wet, and pinned into some type of up style he was sure women called by some fancy name.

"Still sneaking about I see," she teased as she emptied the skillet of eggs onto a plate.

He grinned despite his best efforts not to. "I knew you saw my reflection in the microwave."

"Sure you did," Holly glanced over her shoulder with a skeptical look. "If you're up to it, make yourself useful and get down a couple of glasses?" she gestured to the cabinet. "Orange juice is in the fridge."

With a nod, Derek stood and retrieved the items, pouring each of them a full glass while Holly divided the bacon and eggs onto two plates.

"When did you become domesticated?" he questioned placing a glass in front of the stoll she climbed onto.

"Excuse me? Domesticated?"

"The girl that used to burn toast can make bacon and eggs that taste…" he let the words trail off in favor of bringing a forkful to his mouth. His stomach immediately grumbled a demand for more. "Pretty damn good."

"You can't cook?"

Derek gave a non-committal shrug.

"Don't you get tired of take out?"

Again he answered with the shrug while he continued to eat.

"Well I did, so it was learn how to cook or…" it was Holly's turn to shrug as once again she censored herself.

"Or what?"

"What were you doing out there last night?"

"Out where?" he countered hoping she'd drop it, but knowing she wouldn't.

"Out trapping gophers," she replied sarcastically. "Out running in the woods in the dead of night."

Derek sucked in a deep breath and failed to come up with a plausible lie to tell and settled for the incredibly lame, "It's a long story," excuse.

"You didn't used to keep secrets."

"It's not a secret," he lied again.

"Then why won't you tell me."

"It really is, a long story."

"Does it involved drugs?"

"Do I look like a drug dealer?"

"No, but then this is Beacon Hill. Most drug dealers don't look like drug dealers in Beacon Hill."

"How do you know there are drug dealers in Beacon Hill?"

"Because the population is greater than two. And stop trying to change the subject," she shifted in her seat, angling her body so she could face him. "What aren't you telling me? Are you in some kind of trouble? If you're in trouble I might be able to help you. I'm fairly resourceful when I need to be."

"I remember," he answered softly.

For a moment, staring into those large brown eyes, Derek wondered what her reaction would be if he simply blurted out the Hale family secret. She thought he never kept anything from her, and for the most part that was true, except for that one little thing. His father made it clear to him and Cora in order for Holly to remain their friend they would have to keep that one thing from her. It wouldn't just put the family in danger, it would put her in danger.

Cora had been fine with it, Derek had too, for a while. But the older they got the stronger the desire grew to tell her. Not because it was forbidden, but because he wanted her to know. He wanted to share everything with her. He wanted to tell her. Almost had on a few occasions but he never did. Six years later that desire to bring her into that part of his life hadn't changed. Unfortunately neither did the danger. If anything it escalated.

"All right, since I'm already late for work, you are getting a reprieve."

"I am?" he questioned lifting both eyebrows.

"But we're having dinner tonight."

"We are?"

"Is Rocket on 6 still open?"

"Yes."

"Perfect," Holly smiled as she stood and deposited both plates into the dishwasher. "You can meet me there at seven. That gives you over ten hours to come up with a good story for being in the middle of nowhere at oh dark thirty. And it better be good."

Derek was fairly certain his eyebrows were elevated into his hairline. "You want me to make something up?"

"Don't look so surprised, we used to do it all the time when we were kids. Besides, the truth is probably boring… or illegal so…" She flashed a smile at that. "Make it something good, something with… with witches and dragons and… oh cranes."

"Cranes?"

"What? You don't think cranes are tough?"

"They're bird."

"A bird with a Kung Fu style named after it."

"Point taken."

"Remember when we went to see Kung Fu Panda at the AMC?"

Derek paused as another smile touched his lips.

Memories. He had nearly forgotten all his memories of Beacon Hill weren't tragic and filled with pain and regret and guilt. Some had been good… others great.

His reply was interrupted by a familiar ring tone.

"Is that my phone?" even as he asked he stood and began tracing the sound back down the hall to the room he'd awaken in.

"It's on the table next to the bed." Holly called. "When you get done meet me in the garage."

"Hello?" he didn't recognize the number, but the name on the caller ID said Beacon Hill Hospital.

"Is this Derek?"

The voice belonging to Melissa McCall, he recognized. "Is Scott all right?"

"He's fine," she began in a hushed voice. "But where ever you are, you need to get down here as soon as possible. It's Isaac—"

"—I'm on my way," Derek interrupted and abruptly ended the call.

He didn't need to know any more. Apparently he wasn't the only one that tangled with the alphas last night. And apparently he wasn't the only one that didn't fare well either. It had been his primary fear in the search for the two missing teenagers. That instead of finding Erica and Boyd he would lose Isaac as well.

Peter he didn't care about. He wasn't supposed to be there anyway. If it hadn't been for Lydia he'd still be buried under the family house. Derek still wasn't sure how he felt about his uncle's return. Part of him was glad he was back to help, but then he would remember the way he found Laura. Savaged and literally ripped in half by her own uncle. Peter had killed her so he could be alpha and Derek had killed Peter.

And then he bit Isaac so he could have a pack. So he could have a family. So he could be strong.

Isaac was his responsibility.

His to protect.

And he failed.

Just like he failed at everything.

He jogged quickly through the house, using his nose to lead him to the smell of oil and engine grease. He found the garage and Holly staring at her car. At one time the sleek, black automobile had probably been a hell of a sweet ride, but presently the front grill was smashed in from where his body first impacted, and the hood and roof both suffered deep indentions from where he rolled up and over the car.

"How is it you are walking? Meanwhile my car looks like it was sat on by The Hulk."

"Dense bones?" he offered with a slight shrug.

"Den—dense bo…" Holly pressed her lips together. Her gaze altering with disbelief between the wrecked car and Derek. "You better come with one hell of a story tonight."

She grumbled something else as she hit the button on the wall, but the mechanical whirling of the garage door rising made it difficult to hear her words. He held her door open as she climbed in behind the wheel. A small gesture but it seemed the least he could do.

"Can you drop me off somewhere?" he questioned after settling in on the other side.

"Need me to take you to your bad guys secret lair hidden in the side of the mountain?"

"I need you to take me to the hospital."

Her fingers had been reaching for the button to start the engine. His words caused her to completely stop, turn, and stare at him as if he asked her to take him to the mars.

"I'm sorry, the last word sounded like hospital."

Derek gave her a questioning look. "Yes. The hospital."

"When I wanted to take you last night, you acted like I was suggesting tossing you into Lassen Peak as a ritual sacrifice. Now you want to just blithely stroll in there?"

He paused, met her gaze, and smirked. "Yes."

Holly narrowed her eyes, pressed the button and grumbled. "Better be such a good story."