The three wolves skulked around the garden and saw the two guards by the back garden door.

''Boyd you take out the guards, Scott you will take care of any additional guards while me and Peter grab the twins''

''Scott, can you handle that?'' Peter asked. He hadn't meant it to be condescending. He asked it merely out of concern.

''I get it, I'm the youngest one but that doesn't mean I'm not ready Uncle Pete! You guys can rely on me.''

Derek was haunted by the determined look on his little brother's face and thought about where had all the time had passed from when he was the little boy who cried when he'd scraped his knees or sung along to the theme tunes of his favourite morning cartoons.

They leapt forward from the bushes and Scott immediately slashed the neck of the first guard on the door and had already pounced on the other as he tried to get his gun out. The others were bursting through the glass patio doors and into the living room. No one was there until two others came fumbling done the stairs.

The shrill and slaughtered screams of the guards awoke Stiles and he rushed across the landing to his sister's room.

He shouted ''ALLISON!'' and came out of the door and flung her arms around her brother.

They both panicked when they saw the red pair of eyes suddenly grin.

''Shit!'' he cried and grabbed Allison by her hand and practically grabbed her up to the attic. It was a stupid place to hide. No possible way of escape.

Allison whispered furiously at him, ''Why did you bring us up here?! We're trapped now!''

''I-I-I don't know!''

''What do you mean you don't know?''

''I mean I DON'T FUCKING KNOW ALLISON!'' He screamed back at her.

There was sudden silence.

They could hear footsteps now. The two were suddenly grateful they'd closed the door and pull out stairs behind them.

Stiles mouthed at her to follow him and hide behind two wooden crates. He gave her a nod towards the boxes to look for weapons. Hopefully their parents kept some up there. Stiles knew what Allison didn't: Wolves could hear heartbeats from miles away. And theirs would be hard to miss, meaning they had a minute at most before they realised where they were. He'd hoped the screams of the other hunters had hidden their voices when they were talking earlier. Then he realised how horrible the thought was. These were normal people he'd socialised with everyday. He knew their names, their families. He'd visited their houses!

Now they were dead. They died protecting them. Which was fast seeming pointless as it was likely they were now going to die in the attic.

Allison had to stop herself squealing in rejoice when she found a gun. Stiles repressed his sigh of relief, now over aware of the brilliant hearing of wolves. She tried to feel the side of the trigger. If it was a gun hunting werewolves it would have a Latin inscription on the side of it. She dragged her finger across it multiple times before shaking at her head at her brother.

Normal bullets. That would not kill. But slow down perhaps. It was worth the effort at one last attempt to make it out there alive.

''I can smell them. Hear their heartbeats. But where is it coming from?''

Derek sniffed up again, ''It's up above us''

''Are they on the roof?'' Scott asked.

Then it hit Peter like a wave. ''No. The attic. We have to find it''

Not long after they did and Allison and Stiles could hear them coming closer.

''Allison, shoot at them as much as you can. I'll push myself on top of them and while they're busy, you try and find your crossbow and shoot them''

Allison's eyes widened. ''Stiles, they'll kill you! No I won't do it!''.

He grabbed her face with both his hands. ''Either both of us will die or one of us will live''. He had tears in his eyes and so did his sister. Both realising this was goodbye.

Allison had been taught to think logically rather than emotionally. Taught that sacrifice was sometimes necessary. Except now that it was actually happening right in front of her, to her twin she could barely accept it.

''Besides, I was always the screw up right? You were always gonna be the big bad werewolf hunter'' he joked but even now she couldn't bare it.

''Don't say that. Mom and dad love you'' she whimpered.

He kissed the top of her head, ''Not as much as they love you. Take care of them for me?''.

She nodded and their moment was interrupted as the Hales ripped down the stairs and clawed their way up and Allison stood and shot furiously at them while Stiles threw his body forward against them so hard it winded him as they all fell, the wolves bleeding and riddled with bullets. Allison managed to shove past them and sprint down the stairs almost tripping on the last step.

The adrenaline pumping through her was enough for her to switch off any emotions. To switch off any consideration for her brother. Her mind solely focused on finding that crossbow.

Although they were bleeding, it didn't take their bodies long to heal from the bullets and push them out of their skin. Stiles couldn't look away from the weirdly fascinating sight. As the alpha got up, Stiles grabbed his ankle with as much force as his weakly human body could manage.

''ALLISON! RUN!'' was all the warning he could manage to scream out of his lungs before Peter shoved the heel of his boot against Stiles' fragile face, rearranging the bones in his nose making him bleed and lose consciousness as his head hit the wooden attic floor. His eyelids blinked for a few seconds before the dizziness overpowered him and he shut them.

Peter ran down the stairs now in his full form and headed towards the girl's bedroom.

Allison managed to get into her bedroom and put a chair under the door. Which would only give her a few extra seconds but it was every little second that counted in a fight. Something also engrained into her. She scrambled to find the crossbow out from under her bed and managed to load it with an arrow before Peter burst throw her door.

In her haste she had wasted the wolfsbane arrow as it only skimmed past the alpha's arm but was enough to weaken him.

She couldn't find another arrow and panicked. She took a second and thought of where there would be more. The basement!

She fled past him through the doorway when she spotted one of the other wolves coming out of the attic and fell down the stairs as she misplaced her foot, looking too long at it.

When she got up, the crossbow still gripped tight in her hand as she was not going to let it go. She tried to recover from the fall quickly but cried out, realising too late that she'd sprained her ankle, the pain shooting through her too quickly to prevent her from getting up. She squinted her eyes in effort to overpower the pain as she forced herself to get up and limp towards the basement.

But a dark figure had already grabbed her and wrapped it's arm around her neck and grabbed her wrist with the other.

''Drop it!''

But she refused to until they pressed their thumb so hard into her forearm that it gave way and she dropped it.

''Good girl'' they praised in such a sinister tone.

She learned his name was Scott when the other two joined them.

When she saw them carrying her limp and bloody brother down the stairs, she became hysterical and began to try and kick her legs out.

She was thrashing and crying against the strong grip Scott had on her. Even if she knew that escape was impossible, she just wanted to lash out.

''STILES! Ple-e-e-ase god no!'' she sobbed as she stared at her lifeless brother.

She took in a deep breath and tried to stop her tears. She didn't want to cry when she was killed. She wanted to go out with some dignity. She didn't want the retelling of her death to be her begging and weeping for her life. She had more spine than that.

She looked Peter straight in the eyes.

''What are you waiting for? Huh? Just kill me. You've killed my brother that means I'm next, right?''

When he looked at her with no response or emotion, it pushed her grief further and she screamed it at him ''JUST FUCKING KILL ME ALREADY!''

Peter laughed and felt Stiles' pulse. ''your brother's not dead, sweetheart''.

She exhaled shakily in relief. ''Thank god!''

She saw the way he was looking at her. Like prey. It snapped her out of her temporary happiness.

''It's me you want. My brother hasn't got a hunting bone in his body. He's useless! He wouldn't ever become a threat to any of you, trust me! Me... If you let me live I would become a threat. I'd kill you, I'll admit that, okay? But him? Let him live. He won't do you any harm, I promise. Please... grant me a last request, hey? Leave my brother alive?''.

Peter came closer to her so that she could see his face that was once masqueraded by darkness. It was a handsome face, but not a kind one. Especially with the cruel smirk that was playing on it. His eyes were as red and dark as the blood on her brother's face. It sent a chill over her skin and made it burn under his glare.

''What makes you think I want to kill either of you?''

Allison couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had to ask the question.

''What do you want then?''

''My dear...'' he stroked her face with the back of his hand and she squirmed away from it, which only delighted him as he had this little fighter so easily scared. ''… We want to recruit you''

The Bite.

''No'' she shook her head adamantly. ''NO!'', she struggled against Scott and screamed her objections over and over again as he leant in towards her arm. But the yelling and the struggling were cut off as she felt the sharp teeth bite down deep into her veins. It was like she could feel the darkness clinging inside of her and felt a sudden sea of sickness as the infection started to be spread into her blood, her entire body feeling pathetic and weak as it tried to fight against something unholy and unnatural.

Peter let the blood linger on his teeth and lips. It wasn't for the taste but the proof of victory. Turning a hunter. He couldn't imagine anything more gloriously ironic.

Her eyelids fluttered as she also felt herself slipping away into consciousness. Allison had fought. Stiles had fought. But they had failed. Although Stiles still had worse to come when he awakened. For now they were peaceful. Sleeping. Not realising that the nightmare would only end when they fell asleep again, not when they awakened.