Author's Note: Hey guys, sorry for the delay, I've been super busy lately! Thanks so much to the few of you who reviewed the last chapter. I hope you guys like this one.

Chapter 10

After Isaac was taken away, the gang decided that the most effective course of action would be to split up: Stiles headed off to the police station to continue to harass his father for information, Allison went home to keep an eye on her family, and Scott, Amy, and Derek convened at the apartment. Amy couldn't help but notice that the last location was quickly becoming a sort of werewolf headquarters as opposed to any real sort of home. Given their situation, though, she supposed this would have happened regardless of where they lived. But the fact remained, her and Derek's home was becoming a pack home. And she theorized it would be this way for the foreseeable future.

"So, what do we do?" Scott asked as the three of them – a somewhat odd grouping – sat at the kitchen counter. The room was still in shambles, a glaring reminder of the previous nights' events. However, Scott seemed oblivious to the state of disarray.

"Should we wait to hear from Allison?" Amy asked.

"No," Derek replied tightly. "The only thing we can do is go there tonight and make sure nothing happens. I don't trust Allison to find out Gerard's plan, let alone tell us what it is. We can't take any chances – we're going there tonight and if they come, we will fight." We can't take any chances. They couldn't lose another packmember, not after what had happened with Jackson.

Scott, purposely ignoring the dig at his beloved girlfriend, said, "It shouldn't be too hard to sneak in – Stiles and I used to do it all the time and I know that place like the back of my hand. We just have to wait until tonight, when there will be fewer people in the building."

"Okay," Amy agreed.

Derek gave a curt nod, but, while his eyes were fixed on Scott, he was wearing a somewhat distant expression. Amy understood why – things were escalating at an alarming pace. And while the conflict between the werewolves and hunters careened out of control, Derek's strong leadership became increasingly crucial. He was unsure of his own abilities and, as the situation grew worse and worse, she feared he would pull away and retreat back into his armor of self-loathing. She hoped desperately that he understood how counterproductive this would be, how the lone wolf act was completely contrary to his responsibility as an Alpha. But, despite the fact that she wanted more than anything to be fully confident in his abilities, but she just couldn't say she was. She was plagued by the same niggling sense of doubt he was and she was certain that if she felt it, he felt it ten times worse.

XXXXX

As soon as night fell, they rolled out. The three werewolves (plus Stiles) piled into Derek's sleek, two-door Camaro and glided down Beacon Hills' blackened streets. The ink-colored car camouflaged against the darkness like a ghost in the wind; the only thing that wasn't so discreet was the roar of its V8 engine.

Allison had called them earlier in the day to inform them that, just as they had suspected, her family planned to attack Isaac during the night.

"The hardest part is going to be getting past the front desk," Stiles informed them. "One of us should create a distraction while the others go help Isaac. Have you guys heard anything more from Allison?"

"Yeah, she's trailing the hunters," Scott answered. "She's going to try to slow them down, but she doesn't think she'll be able to stop them on her own."

"Of course she won't be able to stop them," Derek nearly scoffed. "I'd be surprised if she's even able to delay them for more than five minutes." With that, he stamped harder on the gas pedal to punctuate the sense of urgency.

When they parked outside the police station, Stiles stared out the window in apparent trepidation.

"What's the matter?" Amy questioned.

"I'm just nervous, is all. The last thing we need is to draw attention to the two of you, that's for sure."

"Hey, I haven't done anything wrong and Derek was exonerated," she protested hotly.

"Yeah, but you're still way too involved with all this stuff that's been going on. My dad is starting to get suspicious of you two, which is really, really not good."

"What are you trying to say?" Derek asked bluntly.

"I'm just thinking maybe you guys should wait for the Argents out here, is all."

"How do we know they're just going to stroll through the front door?" Amy pressed. "Really, I think they'll try to be a bit more subtle than that. Plus, I'd feel a lot better if we could actually see Isaac."

"I don't think you'll be able to see in him the holding cell, but fine, I get your point. Okay then, so the keys to all the cells are in a safe in my dad's office, and luckily I know the combination. We'll just have to distract the officer in the front area."

"I'll do it, then I'll meet you guys in the holding area," volunteered Derek.

"You'll do it?" Amy repeated, as if to make sure she'd heard correctly. Scott and Stiles' blank stares and cocked heads indicated that she was not alone in her bewilderment.

"Yeah, is there a problem?"

"What are you gonna do, punch her in the face?" Stiles snickered.

Derek did not seem even the slightest bit amused. "No," he deadpanned after rolling his eyes in his trademark fashion. The question wasn't as ridiculous as he seemed to think it was, though.

"Seriously," Scott chimed in solemnly, "You can't punch her in the face."

"Keep at it and the only ones who are going to be punched in the face are you two," the black-haired werewolf snapped irritably.

Stiles held his palms up in surrender and mumbled, "Fine," but was clearly not appeased. Amy sent Derek one last, meaningful, don't-fuck-this-up glance, before opening the door and shimmying out of the car; the others followed suit.

Just as the tip of Scott's sneaker-clad foot touched the pavement outside, his phone started vibrating noisily in his pocket. "Just a sec," he told the others, holding one finger up to stop them from entering the building without him.

"The guy they're sending – he's dressed as a sheriff's deputy," Allison blurted out hurriedly. "He's carrying some sort of weird box with him – there's some sort of carving on it, I think it's a picture of wolfsbane. I slashed his tires, but he might still be on his way by now."

"Shit," Scott cursed quietly, looking at his comrades from over his shoulder. His troubled exclamation did not escape anyone's notice.

"What? What does that mean?"

"It means they're going to try to kill him." He hung up quickly and abruptly, immediately informing the others, "They're sending someone dressed as a sheriff's deputy."

"Well, at least now we know what to look for…" reasoned Amy. This knowledge, however, was only a minor consolation.

As if things couldn't get any worse, Scott added, "And he's carrying Blue Monk's Hood."

"Shit," Stiles echoed. "Okay then, we gotta go. Like, now."

The four approached the door to the police station and Derek ventured in first. The officer working the front desk was a neat, pleasant looking woman with her heavily straightened hair swept back into a low ponytail at the base of her neck. She wore her uniform completely to code, with her khaki shirt tucked in, pressed, and unsullied. All in all, she looked like a no-nonsense type of woman. However, she was visibly flummoxed as soon as her dark eyes spotted Derek standing before her, wearing his most winning smile. Amy didn't think he'd ever even smiled at her like that…

The three teenagers observed the scene from the doorway, careful to keep out of sight. Their heads bobbed out from behind the wood in an almost comical fashion, and Stiles and Amy's expressive features showcased their amusement at the scene unfolding in front of them. Though this was neither the time nor place for humor, they couldn't help but snigger at the absurdity of seeing Derek flirt with some random police officer. It was as if some sort of suave, charming young man had temporarily occupied his body.

"Can I help you?" the officer attempted to drawl; it was obvious that she was expending a fair amount of effort just to keep her tone even.

Derek's voice took on an entirely uncharacteristic pitch as he (rather adorably) stammered, "Hi – I um – sorry, I wasn't expecting…"

"Someone like me?" she finished without missing a beat.

"I was going to say someone so incredibly beautiful," he countered cheekily, "But I guess that would be the same thing, wouldn't it?"

Amy desperately clamped a hand over her mouth and nose to prevent herself from snorting loudly, and Stiles rolled his eyes. She tried to beat back an irrational wave of jealousy bubbling in the pit of her stomach. Scott, on the other hand, seemed unfazed as he led them onwards to Sheriff Stilinksi's office. Ignoring the stacks of loose papers and other miscellaneous items strewn about, Stiles entered the correct code into the safe with a distressing level of ease. The door popped open and the other two were already tiptoeing to the holding area by the time he had removed the keys.

Suddenly, as they walked through the hallway, there was a clamor from the front desk. Before they could register what was happening, they were intercepted by two figures, who, upon further examination, turned out to be Derek in hot pursuit of someone dressed as a sheriff's deputy – undoubtedly one of the Argents' minions. The man had a syringe in his hand that Derek was actively avoiding coming in contact with, and the others surmised it must have contained a Blue Monk's Hood concoction.

Amy and Scott sprang into action as Stiles rushed to the holding cell where Isaac was. As he fumbled with the keys, Amy grabbed one of the hunter's arms and Scott deftly grabbed the other – the one that was holding the syringe – and dug his claws into the flesh until his weapon fell to the floor with a clang. An alarming amount of blood began to pool around their feet and Scott immediately loosened his grip. Derek came up behind their apprehended foe and grabbed the back of his neck in a way that caused his head to hang limply over his chest. Now saddled with the man's full weight, Amy and Scott released him and his body dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

By this time, Isaac was free and Derek kicked the hunter's hazardous syringe into the holding cell. Isaac then hoisted his would-be assassin over his shoulder and dumped him unceremoniously into the prison with a satisfied smirk. After the door was once again locked, Stiles urged, "C'mon, someone definitely will have heard that."

As they fled the building, Amy couldn't help but muse, "I can't believe they only sent one person to take out Isaac…"

"Let's not question our luck," Stiles replied. However, a trace of trepidation in his tone revealed that he shared her sentiments.

"Good thing we're no strangers to evading the law. It'd be weird if we weren't harboring fugitives at this point," she said on a lighter note, nudging Isaac as they packed into Derek's Camaro. The car was certainly not meant to accommodate five adults – let alone four full-grown men – and Amy, the smallest one, was practically sitting on Scott and Stiles' laps. Derek decked it out of the police station parking lot.

As they were driving, Scott asked, "What happened to that police officer at the front desk?"

Amy and Stiles shared a glance that conveyed their mutual feeling of guilt for not having paid the poor woman more than a passing thought. Hell, they'd even passed her unconscious body slumped over the desk as they left the station!

"The Argents' hunter knocked her out with some sort of tranquilizer. She'll be fine."

And with that, they passed the rest of the ride in silent wonderment at the simplicity of their victory.

Author's Note: Let me know what you think! Even though I have a plot outline, it's hard to keep up motivation without feedback from you guys, so please please please review! I cherish every one of themmmm