*Disclaimer* (I do not own any of the characters or locations, nor do I claim to own them, just this particular story. Teen Wolf belongs to MTV... and others)

OMG! I loved the Teen Wolf season finale! It was so cool, and left so many good things to explore next season! I almost didn't want to finish this, now that I'd seen the finale and all... But I couldn't do that to you guys... So, here you go!

Chapter Nine

'Good, it's here' Gerard thought, as he felt the Kanima's presence. 'Not yet, not yet' he thought, 'I want to savor the moment… I want to watch the light fade from his eyes as he dies'…

Allison slowly lowered her bow when the werewolf pack ran out of sight. Her face was unreadable, her emotions under control. She could wait, she wasn't a child. She could wait for her chance to strike. She could see her father and her grandfather standing beside her, from the corner of her eyes. The other hunters were behind them, but she knew they were there. She closed her eyes. This was her moment. She had to give the orders; she had to be the one to lead them into battle, to decide what to do next. She'd already decided this would end tonight, now she just had to figure out how to catch up to Derek before he disappeared for good. If he got away he'd go into hiding, and not come out for a long time. 'Coward' she thought, shifting her grip on her bow.

"Now what?" Isaac asked, looking at Derek. Derek glanced at him, then at Boyd and Erica, Boyd was helping her to her feet. "You guys think you're okay to run?" he asked. Isaac nodded; Boyd nodded as well, looking at Erica. Erica focused her gaze on Derek. "How far?" she asked, finding her voice. "Far enough" Derek said, only because he didn't know how far… Did the hunters know about his lair? He wasn't about to risk his pack's safety by taking them back there, he'd check the place out on his own some other time.

The Kanima hissed, a sound so low, only a werewolf would have heard it… Fortunately, Peter was a werewolf. He smiled a slow smile, it was here, it was close, but he was closer. Certain that he could kill Gerard before the Kanima could come, Peter climbed down the tree. After all, Gerard didn't have it as a guard dog; he had it as an attack mutt. The Kanima wouldn't be looking out for threats, and neither would Gerard. He stalked toward the hunters, knowing he had to look out for them as well. He crept up from behind, crouching low.

Scott's head jerked up, his eyes narrowing in concentration, then determination when he recognized the sound. "Allison" he said with concern, she was in the forest, so was the Kanima… he had to protect her! He began to run, no, race, back to where he had last seen Allison, Derek's house.

"Allison!" Allison heard the cry, her bow was up and taunt, before she realized it wasn't a threat, it had been Scott. She looked in the direction the sound had come from, seeing Scott running in her direction. "Scott?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Get him!" she heard someone cry. 'Kill Scott?' No….no…she couldn't allow it. She looked around, trying to see who was aiming a weapon at him. No one had their weapons up; no one was even looking Scott's way. That's when she heard the serpent hiss. She whirled around to face the Kanima, bow taunt. It was crouched in front of Gerard, tail wrapped around his legs. But her grandpa seemed unafraid. "Grandfa-"Alison began, when her Gerard flicked his wrist, and the Kanima leaped forward, charging right at Scott. "No!" she cried, she didn't want him to die… not him.

Scott skid to a stop as the Kanima launched itself at him. His claws grew out, his fangs elongated, and he snarled as the Kanima bulldozed into him, knocking him to the ground. They both hissed at each other, their faces inches apart. Scott grabbed its wrists, he knew one sliced from its claws would leave him paralyzed, and then he'd be done for. It snarled in his face.

Now was his chance, all the hunters were distracted, looking at Scott and the Kanima's wrestling match. Allison let loose a few arrows into its back. It hissed and Scott kicked him off. The Kanima rolled away; it looked at Allison and pulled the arrows out, not even wincing as it did so. Not a second after the last arrow was out did it get tackled by Scott. Peter raced forward, too fast for the humans, even though they were hunters, they didn't manage to train their weapons on him until he had his claws deep in Gerard's back. The older man gurgled, blood spilling out of his mouth. It reminded him a bit of when he'd attacked Derek, except Gerard couldn't heal. All the hunters had their weapons turned on him, but he held up Gerard like a shield. The Kanima looked up, noticing its master was in trouble. It threw Scott, whose neck it held in its grasp, away and ran forward. Peter smiled; he raked his claws up Gerard's back and flung him toward a tree.

Chris rushed to his father's side and gripped his shoulder, looking into his eyes and seeing his father was still alive. He picked him up, so his shoulders lay on his knees. There were many thoughts running through his mind, such as 'Don't die. I just buried my wife'… and the simple whimpering of a child watching his father die. But all he managed to say, in a disgusted voice, was "You? You controlled the Kanima?" Gerard gurgled, more blood dripping from his mouth. He glared back at him, hatred in his eyes. Gerard tried to say something, looking as if he wanted to spat, like a cat. But he was only able to tremble in Chris' arms then go limp, his eyes rolling into his skull and closing.

Allison looked at her father cradle her grandfather, she looked up, bow in hand, and arrow pointing at Peter, how had he come back? Her bow trembled slightly, but there was no fear in her gaze, only determination. She hesitated when she saw the Kanima looking at Peter, who held out his hand. The Kanima reached for it, and their palms pressed together. She let the arrow fly, Peter's hand flashed up, catching it before it sunk in his chest. The Kanima whirled around and hissed at her, crouching in front of Peter. It's tail wrapped around his torso possessively, protectively. It belonged to him now.

Scott groaned, pulling himself to his feet. He began to run back in the direction of Derek's house, stumbling, feeling a bit dizzy from the blow he'd received to the head from fighting with the Kanima. He fell on all fours and lunged forward, coming to crouch in front of Allison protectively. He snarled at the Kanima. It hissed back. Now in front of Allison, now close enough to protect her, his mind opened up a bit. He noticed from the corner of his eye that Allison was pointing an arrow at the Kanima's head. He noticed Chris crouched to the left, cradling something… or someone. Then his eyes trailed up and he realized the Kanima wasn't crouching in front of Gerard… It was crouching in front of… "Peter…." He said, astonished. The older werewolf was back from the grave…. 'How… when… why…. HOW?!' Scott wondered, he tensed in front of Allison. He could hear her heart, fluttering like a bird's, she was scared… you won't know that by looking at her, her face was emotionless, her body in fight mode. "Scott, Allison, it's certainly nice to see you. I'm afraid I can't stay around and catch up, as much as I'd love to hear about what's been happen in your lives since you helped kill me…. I have someone I need to pay a visit to" Peter said. He walked past them, the Kanima at his feet, like a dog on a leash. Scott growling at him, following him with his eyes, while Allison kept her arrow trained on the Kanima. "Finish them" he heard Peter say. 'What? No!' Scott thought, launching himself at Peter. The Kanima blocked his path, flinging him to the ground. Its claw raked again his leg, it went numb, and Scott crashed to the ground. He was pretty much useless while on only one leg. He snarled, watching Peter sprint away. The Kanima circled Allison, and Chris rose up, a gun in his hand. The other hunters already had their weapons trained on the Kanima, frightened expressions on their faces.

Stiles kept walking, looking around as if he would find clues to tell him which direction Scott had gone. Of course he saw no clues, just dirt, grass, dried leaves, and trees, lots and lots of trees. He pressed his lips together, how was he supposed to find Scott? "Scott! Scott! We're safer together" Stiles looked up at the sound of Derek's voice. It sounded like Scott was with him, and they were arguing. Not wanting to get left behind again, Stiles began to run in the direction of the voices. It would be just his luck, if they moved again before he got there.

Lydia had lost Stiles, again, but this time she couldn't find him. She'd been lagging behind, making sure to stay out of sight, but she'd gotten too far behind. Now she couldn't find Stiles, she had no idea which way he'd gone. She was lost. 'Well, at least I'm not naked this time' she thought, treading carefully, her boots had high heels, she could get a twisted ankle if she took a wrong step. "Stiles?" she called out, not caring if he knew she was following him anymore, now she just cared about not being alone… "Stiles?!" she called a little louder.

Derek squatted down; he didn't want to sit down. Adrenaline had rushed through him during the running away from the Argents, and then again when he and Scott argued. It was wiping him out, but, now that he was no longer having the adrenaline rush, he was beginning to feel the arrows in his back. The skin had begun to heal close around them, which meant it would hurt twice as much to pull them out… or that he would be getting an infection from the arrow heads. He looked down at the ten claw marks left by Scott on his arm, he'd dug his claws into him when he'd flung him away. He hadn't meant to, and the wounds weren't all that bad, they were already healing. He glanced up at the sound of footsteps, hoping Scott had listened to reason. It took him a while to realize this person was being too noisy to be Scott or a werewolf in general. He stood to face whoever was coming their way, and saw Stiles, clumsily running toward him. He stopped and leaned next to a tree, breathing heavily. Derek regarded him with little interest, "What are you doing here?" Derek asked him. "Looking- lookin- looking for Scott" Stiles panted, leaning over and resting his hands on his knees. Derek scoffed, "Scott isn't here" he said, looking out toward the forest. "Wha-…. What? But I heard- … him, and you… You were arguing" Stiles finally got out. "Just how fast do you think Scott can run, Stiles?" Derek asked, not waiting for an answer, he went on "Fast enough for him and I to argue, you to hear us, him to run off, and you to find him gone" he said, looking irritated at Stiles. Stiles straighten up, no longer panting "Soooo, which way did he go?" he asked. Derek scoffed again "As if you need to ask? Back to Allison" he said, glaring at the ground with enough power to make it want to slink away and cower in a corner. "Uh, Derek?" Stiles asked. Derek turned his glare to him, Stiles took a step back. "Um, you have an…er… three arrows lodged into your back" he said. Derek intensified his glare, and Stiles shrunk into himself. "It's cool, if… you know… what to keep them in there…. I just didn't know arrows were back in fashion… Uh,… good look" he stammered. Derek rolled his eyes at him, "I know they're there, Stiles, I'm going to take them out" he said. "Will… will it hurt?" Stiles asked, wondering if that was why Derek was yet to pull them out. "It's nothing I can't handle" Derek said, glaring at him momentarily, before looking away again.

"Ah, that's right…. I'd forgotten. Your Derek Hale, you don't need anyone, and you can take anything the word decided to throw at you. And now your Alpha, good job on that by the way, and you don't need anyone telling you what to do, you don't need their advice" the purring voice reached Stiles ears. Stiles looked around, when he saw Peter, smiling 'warmly' at them; he stumbled back, falling on his butt. "Ah!" he shouted, surprised, to say the least. He gawked at the man who had been dead only months before. Peter stepped forward, walking slowly, and Stiles scampered back, still on his butt, until he bumped into Derek's leg. A rough hand grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. It was Derek, who pushed the stumbling Stiles behind him, snarling at Peter. "Go, find Scott. Stay together" Derek said, backing up, trying to lengthen the space between Peter and his pack.

Derek snarled at Peter, crouching protectively in front of Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Stiles. His uncle had used him to tear away from the cold grasp of death itself, and he wasn't too happy about it. Peter only looked at him with, what? Pity? He gave him a knowing smile. "Now, Derek, that's not the way to greet family… Granted, we meet when you helped raise me from the grave, but you passed out soon after, we didn't really get a chance to speak" Peter said, taking another step closer.

Derek snarled ferociously, bristling, as Peter walked closer. Isaac, Erica, Boyd and Stiles all huddled together in fear, cowering behind Derek. "Run" Derek said under his breath, Stiles barely catching the words. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, however, heard perfectly. They tensed up, torn between obeying their Alpha's command, and standing beside him. "Run" he snarled, with more ferocity. Stiles gripped Isaac's shoulder, panicking. He couldn't run as fast as they could. "Come now Derek, don't be selfish. Let them join in on the fun" Peter said, walking forward without fear of his nephew, who was beginning to look like rabid dog. Stiles fully believed that at any moment now, Derek would beginning barking and would fall on all fours, transforming into a full werewolf. It didn't happen though, Derek just backed up, bumping into the four teenagers. Even without werewolf senses, Stiles could feel fear, panic, and anxiety oozing off Derek. He couldn't protect them, Stiles realized, and he knew it too. Peter, who actually was a werewolf, must have been able to pick up on even more of his nephew's emotions. He was toying with them all. Derek tensed up, ready to fight. "GO, NOW! RUN!" Derek snarled at them, baring his fangs at them. No order could have been uttered with more authority. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd turned and ran at the same time Peter lunged. Derek caught him, his left claws sinking into his shoulder, his right into his forearm, holding him back. Stiles froze when Peter pounced, the scariest 3-D moment of his life. He began to run after Derek stopped him, the older werewolf's claws inches from his face.

Peter snarled at Derek, his own fangs elongating. He sunk his claws into his nephews arm, raking them down, pushing them in deeper. Derek roared in pain, his own grip on Peter weakening. Seizing his chance, Peter gripped Derek by the throat, cutting off his oxygen supply. Deprived from oxygen, Derek's muscles weakened even more. Peter tore from his grasp and flung Derek away. He then ran after Stiles, who, not being a werewolf, hadn't gotten far during the short match. He gripped him from the back of his neck and held him up, toes brushing the ground. He dragged him back and repositioned his hand, now gripping his shoulder. His sensitive ears picked up the sound of his nephew getting up and rushing to tackle him. He whirled around, putting the human boy between him and Derek. Derek stopped, hand frozen above his head, claws held up read to strike, looking at Stiles' face, twisted in pain. "Look at him Derek" Peter said, shoving Stiles forward "If I applied any more pressure, I'd break his shoulder. A bad wound, yes, but a werewolf could still run away, and left alone, he could heal in a matter of days. But he, fragile thing, would be crippled for months. And if I did this" Peter said, twisting Stiles' arm unnaturally, causing Stiles to cry out in pain, and Derek to snarl a warning. He tensed, ready to pounce. Peter shook his finger, "If I did that, I would either shatter his arm, or simply break both his arm And his shoulder. Very painful indeed" he said, backing up from Derek slightly and letting Stiles' arm go, once again just gripping his shoulder. "But would it kill him? Or would I have to snap his neck afterwards to finish the job?" he asked, gripping Stiles' neck lightly for effect.

Stiles breathe rapidly, eyes wide and afraid. "Let him go" he heard Derek say. "Oh Derek, … You truly are selfish, aren't you? You want me all to yourself. I'm touched" Peter responded, flashing a fang-filled smile. "Then again" he added, pulling Stiles closer so his ear was by his mouth, "You did set me on fire" he hissed into Stiles ear. Derek roared his warning; Stiles closed his eyes, what would happen if Derek tackled Peter? Would the older werewolf be fast enough to snap his neck, or shatter his arm? "Oh fine, grumpy, don't get your fur in a bunch" Peter said. Stiles tentatively opened his eyes just as Peter prepared to fling him to the ground. His grip loosened, and then got tighter than ever. Stiles winced, in too much pain to cry out, he didn't hear a crunch, which meant his shoulder hadn't been broken, yet. "Then again… you did set me on fire" Peter repeated, brining Stiles up to his face. "Seriously, what was up with that? Did you think I would just let it go?" he asked. "W…W… Well yeah… ugh… considering you were dead!" Stiles choked out. "Trust me son" Peter hissed into his ear, "Humor" he said, "Won't help mask your pain." "And neither will sarcasm" he added. That's when Derek body-slammed Peter, knocking them both to the ground, and releasing Stiles from Peter's grip. Stiles landed on his back, "Ugh! My hero…" he said, though not all that sarcastically. He sat up, staring at the mass of werewolf flesh that wrestled inches from his shoes. Derek landed a blow to Peter's chest, while Peter swept Derek's legs out from under him. He landed on the ground with a thud, his breath seemingly knocked out of him. He still managed to block Peter's neck blow, though he didn't seem to be able to stand up again.

Derek held Peter's wrists, an attempt to keep the older werewolf from landing his own blows. Peter, in turned out, didn't need his claws; he flashed his fangs, and bit Derek's neck. "Argh!" Derek cried in pain, letting go of Peter's wrists and cupping the large wound in the side of his neck. Blood oozed from between his fingers. Stiles looked at the two werewolves, feeling so useless as Peter stood up, towering over Derek, and placed his foot on Derek's chest, pressing down. Derek grunted and gripped Peter's ankle with right hand, his left hand still cupping his neck. Peter smiled… no, that wasn't a smile, it was more like baring his fangs, and sunk his claws into Derek's right arm, and twisted. Stiles winced, wanting to help so bad, he couldn't take much more of this. It was the hospital all over again. Peter had turned out to be the Alpha, Derek had come, fought off his uncle, but had ended up getting beating up and crawling away. Now, even though he was now the Alpha, Derek was once again at his uncle's mercy, glaring defiantly up at the one who was in a perfect position to take his life.

Peter looked up and caught Stiles' gaze, holding it with his own unnerving stare. He smiled a sarcastic smile, an ugly smile. That's when he knew, he wasn't going to let him go. Peter still planned on killing him. Derek caught the look that passed between Peter and Stiles. He let go of his neck and swiped at Peter's leg, the one on top of his chest, claws digging in and unbalancing him. Derek then began to crawl away; Stiles' déjà vu was now stronger than ever. Peter looked at Derek slyly, "This is a slightly a less exciting chase scene than I had in mind" he said, following after his nephew slowly, like a cat who played with a mouse, knowing very well the entire time that the mouse couldn't possibly escape it's claws. Derek kept dragging himself away, he looked back, glancing first at Peter, then at Stiles. He held his eyes, the message in his eyes clearer than glass. His eyes plead Stiles to run, the intensity in them more powerful than if he had shouted the word. Stiles slowly understood, Derek was leading Peter away, knowing the recently brought back to life werewolf couldn't resist taunting and chasing him, kicking him while he was down. He cared more now about following Derek, than he did about killing Stiles. He could make a break for it. He stood up slowly on shaky legs. Derek began to drag himself away again, and Stiles began to back away, then turned around and ran.

Stiles wasn't ditching Derek, He Wasn't! He was going to get Scott; Scott would come back and help Derek defeat Peter, this time putting him six feet under for good. He wasn't abandoning Derek… HE WASN'T! He was getting help. He would be back, he would…

*P.S. I have started school. I will be very busy, but to not fret, this story shall be finished! =3 *

(Again, sorry this chapter feels so rushed... )