I'm a little iffy on this chapter, but I'm out of the swing of writing due to a rather unfortunate family matter that is now slowly working towards better. Anyway, I have NOT abandoned this story, but I make no promises on when following updates will be completed.

Chapter 9

Peter met the majority of the Pack at the vet's office, where Deaton listened to the account of what had happened on the Lacrosse field and frowned. "That would not kill a Kanima's host body," he informed. "It would cause a full-body paralysis that mimics death and the Kanima would begin to evolve."

Scott looked up, caught between hope and fear, "What does that mean?"

"Kanima are creatures that exist only to kill," Deaton sighed, "The Kanima that shares Jackson's body was comparable to a werewolf Beta in level of evolution. I have never heard an account of a Kanima successfully evolving, but some of the oldest literature says the creature grows wings and I know the difference in ability is supposed to be about the same as the difference between Beta and Alpha werewolves."

"That's a problem," Peter observed.

Stiles snorted, "No, really? What was your first clue?"

"What happens if this Alpha Kanima wakes up in the hospital morgue?" Scott asked pointedly.

"Considering it would not have any orders from its master to spare anyone and it has been used 'against the rules' multiple times… a massacre."

"We need a plan," Scott frowned, "but we need more information, too."

Stiles raised his hand a bit, "Hey, guys? I've got an idea… Derek, you're not gonna like it."

xxxx

Stiles was right. Derek didn't like it, for all that it was solid reasoning. Scott wasn't thrilled, either, but he trusted Stiles and the plan did make sense.

"I don't want you going by yourself," Derek told Scott.

Scott nodded, "Sorry, Stiles, but if we're going to be carrying a filled body-bag that may or may not be moving… I might need werewolf strength."

"Yeah, I know," Stiles agreed. "Boyd? You up to robbing a hospital morgue?"

Boyd offered a mirthless grin, nodding once.

Derek's stance relaxed a little.

Stiles nodded sharply, "I'm going to see if I can't grab your mom and Isaac and meet you at the hospital," Stiles informed. "If nothing else, we can cause a distraction."

Derek shook himself, "Erica, go with Stiles. No one goes anywhere alone until we know what Gerard's up to. Peter, you're with me."

Deaton nodded his own approval. He couldn't get directly involved without going against certain Druidic codes, but… "I'll be here, just in case."

Scott offered a quick smile to his boss, "Thanks."

"Everyone checks in with me every fifteen minutes. I want to know if anything changes."

Derek's order was acknowledged even as the group broke up, each going about their assigned tasks.

xxxx

"What are we doing here?" Erica demanded, twisting in her seat to give Stiles a full-on glare.

Stiles stared at the darkened house, "Huh. I thought they'd be back by—oh."

"Oh?" Erica raised a derisive eyebrow, "What's 'oh'?"

Stiles flushed, "Look, call Derek for our check-in while I try to get a hold of Scott's mom. She and Isaac might have gone to the hospital or the station for a statement."

Erica glowered, but pulled out her phone anyway, spending a few moments to update Derek on their location.

"Where are you headed next?" Derek's voice was more terse than usual, but Erica figured she could forgive that, considering the circumstances.

Stiles pocketed his own phone and restarted his Jeep, "They're already at the hospital. We're going to meet them there."

"Fine," Derek grunted. "Keep me posted."

Erica nodded sharply, despite the fact that her Alpha couldn't see it. "Right."

xxxx

Scott listened carefully from outside the hospital, locating where his mother and Isaac were talking to the Sheriff and several other officers relatively easily.

All right, so the front door was out. However, there was a back door to the morgue—one that was always locked, not that it would stop a werewolf. He considered for a moment longer, then went to where his mom's car was parked, Boyd trailing along after him.

Sure enough, she had thought to leave the keys tucked away in the glove-box (something she didn't exactly make a habit of) so he moved the car around to the side of the hospital and popped the trunk before he and Boyd literally broke in through the morgue door, twisting the handle sharply enough to snap the pins in the lock.

Scott reeled back as soon as the door opened, Boyd bringing a hand up to cover his nose from the sharp, acrid smell of Kanima venom.

Easy enough to locate the right body-bag, oddly full and leaking the gel-like venom.

Scott glanced around, locating a cupboard full of sheets easily and grabbing one for himself while tossing another to Boyd. "Try not to get any of that stuff on your skin."

Boyd nodded and used the folded cloth to cover 'his' end of the body-bag while Scott did the same.

They managed to make it halfway to Scott's mother's car before a large black truck pulled up to stop in front of them, Chris Argent emerging from the driver's side.

xxxx

Derek was pacing, Peter rather pointedly staying well out of his way in the corner of the warehouse where the rest of the Pack was supposed to meet up with them.

The Hale Alpha stopped abruptly, pulling out his cellphone, before growling aloud and shaking his head. Scott and Boyd hadn't called.

He wanted to call his mate, to check if he was all right, but was aware that it could be anything that delayed Scott's check-in—if he was talking to the Sheriff because he got spotted at the hospital, calling could very well complicate things.

If Gerard had found them or the Kanima had finished evolving and they were fighting, calling would be a distraction.

That thought both increased Derek's tension and stayed his hand. If that were the case, Scott wasn't stupid. He'd be calling for backup the instant he had a moment to breathe.

xxxx

Scott wasn't entirely sure what was going through Mr. Argent's mind, but he was sure the man was trying to protect his daughter—from her grandfather. The man was helping them, and there was something about his demeanor that spoke of resigned determination. A feeling Scott himself had become all too familiar with since learning that to protect the whole of his Pack, he had to sacrifice one of the members.

Scott bit his lip, casting a sideways glance towards the man in the driver's seat of the black truck. "I need to call Derek," he stated. It wasn't a request. He would call and Mr. Argent couldn't stop him, but he was at least going to be courteous enough to let him know before actually dialing.

He ignored the surprised twitch, ignored the sharp look and opening mouth, hitting Derek's speed-dial and unsurprised at the speed at which he was answered. He was five minutes late calling after all. "Sorry," was the first word out of his mouth. "Ran into Mr. Argent. He's helping—"

"Are you sure—nevermind. We need all the help we can get."

Scott blinked, not having expected that response. In the back seat, Boyd's mouth hung a little ajar.

"What?" Derek asked, a touch of defensiveness in his voice as he correctly interpreted the silence. "I trust you, Scott. If you say he's helping, then he's helping."

"Wow," was Boyd's comment. "You really are good for Derek."

Scott cast a quick glare over his shoulder, "Boyd?" he waited for the other wolf to look him in the eye. "Shut up."

Boyd blinked at the glimmer of red and found himself obeying without question, ducking his head and averting his gaze deferentially, leaving the side of his throat bare to Scott's gaze.

Scott returned his attention to his mate, "We're almost there. Should be about three or four minutes, barring any complications. I'll let you know if anything happens to slow us down."

He heard the shift of cloth against skin and assumed Derek nodded.

"How is everyone else?"

"Stiles and Isaac are on their way to the warehouse. Erica stayed with your mom after saying something about 'girl talk' but promised to keep up with the check-ins. Peter is hiding in the corner and looking like he thinks I'm going to kill him if he breathes wrong."

Scott breathed out, relieved. "Good. Good. You'll be careful? I can't be sure, but I think Gerard is looking for you."

"Same goes to you, Scott. Stay safe."

"I'll do my best."

"Boyd?"

The dark-skinned were in the back straightened up, "I'll keep him safe or die trying, Derek."

"Not what I was going to say, but thanks. Keep an eye out. I know Scott will be, too, but two sets of eyes are better than one."

"I will."

"Same goes to you, Derek. And tell Peter that if he so much as mocks Stiles, he's in for it."

Derek gave a short huff of amusement, recognizing the attempt to lighten the situation. "I think he already knows that. See you in a few."

Scott glanced at their surroundings again, recognizing the back-alleys they were winding through. "Make it five. We're going slower than I thought we would—truck's too wide to go faster without hitting things."

"Right. Be careful."

Scott nodded slightly, "You, too."

"You're working with Derek Hale?" Chris demanded as soon as Scott had hung up.

Scott nodded once, "I know he bit your wife," he said quietly. "I don't remember much of what happened through the Wolfsbane and Derek didn't even realize he'd bitten her until we heard… He didn't mean for her to die."

"The Wolfsbane?" Chris' mind put the pieces together. Victoria had been trying to kill one of the werewolves. Probably… "She tried to kill you?"

Scott looked away; answer enough. Derek had been defending Scott. Chris closed his eyes for a moment before forcing himself to watch the darkness in front of his truck; with the lights off, it took a bit of doing for human eyes to make out all the obstacles littering the alleyways. As much as he wanted to blame the Hale Alpha… he's noticed the mister was missing. If she'd been trying to kill Scott and make it look like an accident… Wolfsbane in the air would have any werewolf almost completely out of it in moments.

It really hadn't been Derek's fault. It had been Victoria's own actions that led to her getting bitten.

That was both devastatingly saddening and somehow relieving. He could work with the Hale and his Pack without feeling like a complete traitor. None of them had killed a human; he wasn't betraying the Code. Derek Hale hadn't intended what had happened to Victoria and her death had ultimately been her own choice. He wasn't betraying his family.

No; Gerard was the one doing that. And the man had a hand in Victoria's death, as well.

He inched the truck around another dumpster and carefully turned into the final alley.

"I'm sorry, Scott." He was. He knew that Scott cared deeply for Allison and being a part of her mother's death—however unintentionally—had to be eating at the boy. "… why didn't you say anything?"

Scott looked steadily out the window, "I didn't want that to be Allison's last memory of her mother."

Chris pulled to a careful halt and turned off the truck. "… Thank you." He couldn't say anything else, could barely keep his voice even for two words.

Scott looked at him and nodded once, "Let's end this."

xxxx