Me: Soooooo… Liam's on a rampage (maybe). Stiles is alone with his own thoughts. Steve has finally accepted Derek. Who knows what the rest of the Avengers are doing. Derek has decided to stick around. And the Hunters of Artemis and the Inhumans are plotting. Yay.

Stiles: I don't like being stuck in my own thoughts.

Me: Nobody does.

Disclaimer Here → Living life like it's a dare, getting high with time to spare. Look how everything has me back to the old days, every day a brand new start dressed up in the same old smile. I am proud of my ways. Take me back to the old days, back to the old days.

3rd Person POV

Tree branches whipped his face, slicing deep into it. They healed over quickly. All he could see was red, everything had a red tinge to it. But he wasn't truly seeing anything. All he could think was get away, get away. It wasn't safe. Nothing was safe anymore. Howling into the moon, the full moon rising high above him. But no one answered. No one was there to answer. His chest pumped faster, where was he? This place wasn't normal. He didn't know anything about this place.

There was a city, a glistening city below him. The lights twinkled merrily, cars driving around. It reminded him of home. But it wasn't home. These lights were too bright, too big. It confused him. How did he get here? Who brought him here? What happened to the pack?

Howling again, praying for an answer. Someone had to answer him. He couldn't be alone. He thought he had heard Stiles, heard Derek. But there was no answer. Whining softly he ran towards the lights. The glistening beautiful lights. Before he went into town he realized he couldn't shift back. He had no pack, he had no one now.

Howling again, praying for that return howl that never came, Liam finally managed to shift back. A soft gasp escaped his lips, the pain of the shift subsiding after a few moments. For a second he was confused, everything was bright and loud and he couldn't handle it. Breathing heavily he leaned against the wall, his eyes going in and out of focus. Gripping onto the wall tighter, it broke underneath his fingertips and he jumped backwards in shock.

"Oh god," Liam muttered, sinking to the ground, "I-I don't know what to do…"

There was a payphone across the street, getting blocked occasionally by a person or a car. However it was all Liam could see, the payphone just lurking in front of him. Stumbling back to his feet, Liam made his way across the street. Once there he fished in his pocket for spare change and didn't find anything. Growling he looked around the street for any spare change and, once again, didn't find anything. Then again, who would he call. Derek? He wasn't there when Beacon Hills was destroyed. But did he actually know Derek's phone number? Not off the top of his head.

Suddenly a howl broke through the air, startling Liam. It was familiar, very familiar. Sounded like pack to him. But that was impossible, he was… where was he? It looked like… New York. But how did he get here? He was… He was in Beacon HIlls last he knew. Wait no… he woke up in a hospitable. A nice lady…. A nurse? She was there. What had she told him? Just that someone, a nice man, had been visiting him. Derek couldn't exactly be considered nice (no offense intended to him) and Stiles wasn't quiet, on any levels. Besides Stiles couldn't howl. He wasn't a werecreatures. At least, as far as Liam knew.

The howl split the air again, closer now. But Liam was unsure if he should answer it or not. After all, if he does who knows what would happen. Pressing his fists against his face, moving away from the payphone. Why, what had happened? There's only flashes, flashes of things. None of it made sense though.

Once again the howl shattered the air around him, It was familiar, but that was impossible. There was no way Derek was in New York and the rest of the pack was dead. The only one still alive was, possibly, Stiles. But Liam didn't remember anything really. Stepping backwards into an alley, Liam slowly backed away from the street. Then he turned and ran.

**********TWM**********

If Stiles felt like talking, he would be screaming right now. As it was he was very close to it. Frustration was filling his very bones, even as Derek looked at him with an almost apologetic nature. While he was usually very open to talking around Derek, right now he just couldn't muster the energy.

"He was howling earlier. But now he isn't responding," Derek told him, "If he doesn't howl back I won't be able to find him. Easily at least."

Right now Steve was contacting the others in another room, letting them know that Liam was awake and currently wandering around New York dazed and confused. Even though they were nowhere close to home, quite a bit away to be honest, it was an extra precaution. Just in case Liam didn't find a way to get in contact with them. Both Derek and Stiles had their phones on, loudest ringtones possible. So far nothing had come up, no texts no calls. Nothing.

"I can go try and scent him, but that's extremely difficult in cities. To many conflicting scents," Derek said rubbing his forehead.

And that was the main issue. It wasn't so much that Liam was out there (well, that was a major part) it was more that they couldn't find him. With all the noises and the scents and everything else of New York City, finding Liam would take too long. And by the point they found him the Hunters of Artemis could have gotten to him as well.

"Where would Liam go?" Derek wondered.

That was a good question as well. Maybe a news stand? But there were millions of those in New York. There was one at every corner, multiples on each block. Maybe a computer store? There were lots of those too, just about every single street had at least three of them, maybe more. A library? Researching what happened to Stiles and Beacon Hills. Would Liam even be able to find one? There were a few libraries near where Liam's hospital was. But that didn't mean Liam was anywhere near there.

"He'd want to know more about what happened," Stiles managed, running a hand through his hair before rubbing the fine ends on the back.

"So a library? News stand?" Derek suggested.

"There's so many news stand's that it'd take weeks to hit them all. By then Liam could be anywhere," Stiles put his head in his hands, thinking hard, "And it'd be more difficult to find him."

"Steve has already sent out a missing person's report, giving a picture to the police. They'll be looking for him as well."

That wasn't the best idea, but it wasn't like they could talk Steve out of it. There was no way that Stiles would tell Steve the truth after all. It wasn't a smart idea. What would happen to Liam, to Stiles, if they knew the truth. Then what happened too the pack, Beacon Hills, everyone?! They'd blame him! All of it would be placed on Stiles! It was his fault anyways. The Hunters of Artemis were after Stiles. Well, Void Stiles anyways. Still the same person.

"Stiles. Calm down," Derek growled at him, "We'll find him."

"Yeah," Stiles choked out.

However he was still trapped in his own thoughts. Thinking, over and over again, about the past. What he had stuffed deep into his subconscious. So deep that he had hoped it would never return. It was all on the surface now, returning and drifting around inside his skull. It's all my fault, they're dead because of me. The Hunters of Artemis wouldn't have been here if it weren't for me. They want Void. I'm Void. They'd still be alive if it weren't for me. Scott, Allison, Lydia. It's my fault.

"Stiles, stop thinking like that," Derek told him gently, taking a hold of his shoulders.
Dead eyes, once so full of life but now so dull, stared up at Derek. It was almost like someone had sucked the life out of him. In a way, it was the truth. Ever since the Massacre of Beacon Hills had happened the life had left from Stiles' eyes. It would take months, maybe even years for that spark to return. At least, as far as Stiles knew. But he wasn't sure what would bring it back.

One after another things seemed to fall apart. At home, Beacon Hills was home, everything went downhill after Scott got bit. Everything was torn apart. His whole life flipped upside down. Then the Massacre. God, Stiles could still taste the blood in his mouth. His own blood. While he knew about his Uncle Tony, he never thought that Tony would ever take him in. They didn't see each other much. The only time he could remember was probably his mother's funeral. He had been standing there, wearing a pure black tux with a dark purple, nearly black, dress shirt. They had the same coloring, his mother and him. But other than that there was no likeness. That was before the massacre. Then he showed up again, after the massacre. This time he wasn't alone. Steve was with him. Even though he wasn't talking, still wasn't, Steve would fill the silence and talk while Tony did his thing with the CPS lady. That was a little over a month ago.

"Stiles," Derek repeated slightly harsher.

"O-okay," Stiles replied, forcing the thoughts back into the recesses of his mind.

There was a second of hesitation, just a brief moment, that Derek just stood there. But then he tugged Stiles close, cupping the back of the younger boys head. They stood there, just holding each other, before drawing away. The silence reigned over them before Stiles looked at Derek. Eyes drawn tight and stone cold.

"Try again," Stiles voice was void of emotion, pun might be intended.

In front of him Stiles watched as the transformation began on Derek's face. Hair sprouted, sideburns grew, and eyes glowed the icy blue of a beta werewolf. The fangs elongated and sharpened, brow furrowing. A howl tore through the air, splitting through the silence.

**********TWM**********

Even as the howl rang through the air, the others returned. The first to walk in was Natasha, already back in her everyday outfits. Even then it wasn't exactly her clothes. Steve could recognize his dark blue sweatpants, Clint's dark grey sweatshirt with one of Bruce's purple shirts peeking out from underneath, and Tony's shoes on her feet. It seemed that she had cleaned herself up already, hair slightly dripping from water. Well, it was possible that she had fallen into the water. Then Tony walked in, out of his suit. The normal ACDC t-shirt was covering him, with dark jeans on, and dark converse. His hair was mussed, a tired look in his eyes. After him was Clint, still in his Hawkeye garb. The quiver of arrows was over his shoulder with a bow in his hands. Unlike Tony and Natasha (who were relatively clean), Clint was covered from head to toe with red dirt. There wasn't even a glance from Clint as he walked towards the bathroom. Wanda followed afterwards, dirt dusting her whole body. However it wasn't as bad as Clint was. She also was wearing her normal clothes, but that's all she ever fought in. After her came Vision, completely fine and not a single scratch on him. Then lastly was Bruce, wearing an oversized shirt and baggy sweatpants.

"Hey Capsicle," Tony greeted, collapsing on the couch next to Steve and putting his head on Steve's lap.

"Tony," Steve muttered in fond exasperation.

"Shush, I'm tired. How's the kid?"

"In his room, not speaking. Derek is watching over him."

"Liam's in the wind?" Wanda asked, red energy swirling around her as she cleaned the dust off of her body.

"Currently scanning the police reports and all the security cameras, even the private ones. As well as all news feed and social media. Anything else will have to be done by Tony."

Everyone looked at each other, unsure of what else to do. Even with all the resources they had they felt useless. It was more than just that they were supposed to be the mightiest heroes on earth. The whole thing was more that, it was that they couldn't do anything for Stiles, their ward. He was in pain, traumatized, and one of his friends just ran off. Yet they couldn't do anything for them.

"I hate being useless," Natasha grumbled.

"All of us do," Bruce agreed.

One hand ran through Steve's cropped short hair, even as he leaned forward over Tony. The other man had his eyes closed, seemingly sleeping peacefully. However Steve knew that probably wouldn't last. In his sleep Tony had hit him multiple times, before waking up himself screaming. For once it seemed that Tony wasn't in the throes of a nightmare and Steve hoped it would last.

"Do we have any plan to find Liam?" Clint demanded, returning with some clean pajamas and a towel around his shoulders, "Or are we running in blind."

"Where would he go?" Bruce replied while scratching his chin, "Does he know what happened? Do we even know what happened? He's going to want to know everything that happened. So where would he go?"

"To find out," Steve replied, "Newsstands or Libraries. Or he'd try to get back to Beacon Hills."

"We can't assume," Natasha cut in, "We need to go off of facts."
"Just a reminder," Wanda replied, "We know nothing about him. He doesn't know us. If we go after him he's going to run."

"Stiles isn't exactly forthcoming about information," Tony added, opening one eye and looking up at the others.

The only one who didn't look startled about Tony's abrupt add on was Natasha. Everyone else flinched or jumped slightly, eyes widening in shock. Even Steve had been startled.

"I thought you were sleeping," Steve replied.

"Everyone was loud."

**********TWM**********

The grasp on his control was slipping. It was dribbling between his fingertips, flowing away in a speed that scared him. With no pack to anchor him, which had been his anchor, there was no way Liam could withstand the pull of the moon. Even the howls weren't enough to help him to keep his control. Without his consent sideburns sprouted, fangs elongated, and everything became a hazy shade of red. Then his humanity sank deep inside, the wolf controlling his whole body. The last of his control dripped away, not even a drop left.

One howl, loud and warning, erupted from his chest. It echoed around him, even as he ran down the alleyway. The speed at which he went was inhuman, tearing down the streets in an angry haze. There was no one left. His pack was gone. Those that had killed them. They were as good as dead.

Already his human mind was buried, completely hidden away by the wolf. Low growls passed by his lips, his yellow gold eyes narrowing on a teenage girl with long wavy brown hair and dark brown eyes. This girl was just walking by, not paying attention to him. The growls grew louder and the girl finally looked up, eyes widening in shock.

"W-Who?" she asked.

But Liam didn't see her, no. Instead he saw one of the Hunters of Artemis, Rose Martin to be exact. That was all he could see in the girl. The growls grew louder and the girl backed into the wall, her eyes filled with fright. Glowing yellow eyes stared into the girl's terrified brown, even as his claws dug into her stomach. Blood dribbled over his fingers and claws before dripping to the ground. Her simple pink top darkened with blood, absorbing most of it. Hands scrabbled at his arms, brown nails digging deep in but the skin healed over in seconds. Life faded from her eyes, brown eyes turning dull, before she collapsed to the ground.

Once golden yellow eyes turned to the icy blue of those that killed.

A howl tore through the air, escaping from his own lips, Once again he ran off, leaving the dead body behind him. Soon he had a trail of bodies that looked like people from the Hunters of Artemis. Blood dripped from his fingers, leaving a trail of drops of blood.

**********TWM**********

Why was this so difficult?! They were Artemis' hunters for goddess sake! Her hand picked chosen! She was the top of them all! The best of the best! There was no way that this werewolf could possibly avoid them. However it seemed that... that werewolf had managed to slip through their fingers. But he wouldn't for long. The carnage and destruction that the werewolf had left behind in his wake should have led them straight to him!

"You are so stupid!" Rebekah wailed, punching Ryan in the nose and breaking it.

The others flinched and stepped back, Rose rubbing her nose in remembrance of when that happened to her. However Ryan doubled over, clutching his nose. Blood sluggishly dripped from his nose, running down his face. It was already layering into a fine crust.

"Track him! NOW!" Rebekah ordered, "Prove to me you are not incompetent! Or else you won't live very long."

Fear flooded the others eyes. All of them knew that it was not an idle threat. They had seen Rebekah go through with it before. Ryan was not the first boy and wouldn't be the last to die from Rebekah's hands. There had been multiple girls as well. While they had all been around for a long time, there were more Hunters of Artemis out there. However they were the most prominent.

"Y-yes, we will," Ryan muttered, rubbing his nose.

"Then go!" Rebekah roared.

Before anymore harm could be done to them, the other Hunters of Artemis ran off. Fuming silently Rebekah turned onto the Inhumans. While Dyana looked bored, Ashan seemed slightly upset. Rebekah wasn't blind, she knew that Ashan had a thing for Ryan. However she could care less, as long as Ashan wasn't hitting on her.

"Go help," Rebekah growled, narrowing her eyes at Ashan.

In a pillar of smoke Ashan disappeared. Then Rebekah turned too Dyana with a raised eyebrow. Instead of flinching away like the others would have done she just flicked her eyebrows up from her dark nails. It pleased yet annoyed Rebekah that Dyana was willing to stand up to her. However she did respect her for it. Dyana wasn't a groveling weakling like the others. Instead she was a strong willed person and did not bend to Rebekah.

"Well?!" Rebekah demanded.

"I just find it amusing how easily you lost a rampaging werewolf," Dyana replied evenly, leaning back on the wall.

Dyana was leaning against the wall, looking immensely casual in her outfit. The black leather jacket was hanging loosely around her mexican skull top with some torn shorts on her legs. In her hand was her phone, scrolling through what Rebekah assumed to be Tumblr or some other social media. One ankle was crossed in front of the other, black combat boots on her feet. Yet Rebekah could see that she was anything but relaxed. Occasionally her eyes would scan the alley way around them, looking for any sign of the rampaging werewolf.

"You're scared of him," Rebekah laughed.

"I could boil his insides with a wave of my hand," Dyana replied with a raised eyebrow, "You on the other hand would become puppy chow in a second."

Affronted, Rebekah glared down at her. There was something about Dyana that made Rebekah both hate and love her. Right now though, the scale was leaning more towards the hate side. Despise seemed like the proper word at the moment. If Dyana wasn't an important asset to her team. Let's just say that she'd be in a pool of blood right now.

"I could kill you where you stand," Rebekah growled.

"But you won't. You need me," Dyana replied with a raised eyebrow, "Now. How's the plan of getting Azar out of prison going? I'd like to have my firepower back."

"What? You think you can't do it without her?"

"I don't like getting my hands dirty. Azar thrives off of it."

Eye twitching, Rebekah stared right at Dyana. Nothing was revealed by just looking at her. There was nothing in her expression, nothing in her mannerisms. Except the subtle warning that without Azar Dyana would leave the group. Rebekah couldn't risk that, not when she was so close to getting Void.

"Fine, we will work on Azar. But right now our priority in Void and killing the werewolf," Rebekah replied, stepping closer to Dyana.

It was meant to be an intimidation tactic. Instead of being intimidated, however, Dyana instead stepped closer at well. Now the black stretchy leather pants she wore seemed to tight, the black spaghetti strapped shirt seemed to be too warm. But it wasn't from what you might think. It was, dare she say it, fear that caused that reaction. Dyana could kill her with a thought. Rebekah would need to actually move in order to kill Dyana. Who wouldn't be scared of someone with that kind of power.

"Azar is first priority for Ashan and I," Dyana warned, "Make her yours."

Me: So, Dyana is slowly forcing her way to the front. Liam has killed innocents now (no more yellow eyes). Stiles and Derek are trying to find Liam. The Avengers are feeling useless.

Stiles: She's getting on my nerves.

Me: Them or me?

Stiles: Both.

Review Request Here → I think we'll take a dare for and tell myself the glass is full. I turn off the phone and get on with all the worries of today. We'll be okay. Back to the old days, take me back to the old days.