Happy (early) my birthday to you! Hope you enjoy!


After what felt like ages, Tommy finally growled angrily and lowered his gun, turning and running a hand through his hair. Ben also lowered his gun, looking at his friend in confusion.

"Tommy," he hissed, glancing at the twins standing across the room, who were slowly opening their eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I can't do it," Tommy whispered back. "I thought I could do it but I...I just can't..."

"I knew you couldn't," Tommy jerked his head up and turned when he heard his father's angry, disapproving voice. Mr. Ryker strode purposefully into the abandoned refinery, at least a dozen other hunters following him. Some came in the side door behind Chris and grabbed the hunter, restraining him. Logan quickly pulled his sister close, shifting in front of her in an instinctive need to protect her.

"Dad, I—" Tommy began, his eyes wide and fearful.

"Shut up," Kyle Ryker snapped, his eyes burning with contempt. "I always knew you were a worthless little piece of shit. You never could stomach the big stuff. That's why I came out here; after our phone call I wasn't sure you could pull this off. You know, for a minute there, I was almost proud of you. I actually thought you would go through with it. But no; instead, you proved me right."

Tommy opened his mouth to say something, then closed it slowly, shame and regret in his deep brown eyes, his expression like that of a kicked puppy. Ben looked on helplessly, unsure what he could do.

"Good to see you haven't changed, Kyle," Argent spoke up, trying to get the man's attention away from his son.

"Chris!" Ryker grinned at the other hunter as if noticing him for the first time. "Long time, no see. I gotta say, I'm a little surprised at the company you're keeping lately. I always thought you were on the straight and narrow about these things; I liked you for that."

"Really?" Argent raised an eyebrow. "Because I always hated you."

Ryker laughed, amused and slightly annoyed by his former ally's comments. "You know, I would love to take the time to just catch up with you, Chris, but I need to discipline my son, so if you don't mind, I'd prefer if you kept your mouth shut."

"Dad, I swear, I didn't mean to..." Tommy said quietly, his shoulders slumped in an unconscious attempt to appear smaller.

"Didn't mean to what?" Ryker growled. "Be the disappointment I always told your mother you'd be?"

"Mr. Ryker," Ben began, jumping to his friend's aid when he saw the wounded look on his face. Ryker wouldn't let him speak.

"One more word out of you and I'll be bringing you back in a body bag," the older man growled at the eighteen-year-old orphan. Ben obediently shut his mouth, taking a step back and dropping his head. Ryker turned his attention back to his son, his eyes blazing with anger. Across the room, Logan and Kayla could hear the boy's heart beating against his ribs, and they could see him shaking with fear. They'd only ever seen him that scared once before, when his mom was visiting family and his dad got drunk; he'd showed up at their door with a black eye and split lip, asking if he could hide out there until morning. The two werewolves took a step back in unison, only to be stopped by two of Ryker's friends. They were trapped.

Meanwhile, inside the storage room, Stiles had at last been freed and was desperately searching for a way to help his dying friends. Scott, Derek, and Malia were all on the cold floor, coughing and struggling to breathe.

"Scott!" he yelled desperately, trying to fight off a panic attack. "Scott, what do I do?"

"You've got...you've gotta get us out..." Scott gasped weakly, his chest tight and his throat burning.

"How am I supposed to do that?" Stiles demanded, his eyes wide.

"Just figure it out, Stiles!" Derek snapped before giving in to another coughing fit.

Stiles looked around, his mind scrambling to try and figure out what to do. Finally, a moment of clarity gave him just the answer he needed. He saw the air vent that the wolf's bane was floating out of at the top of the wall to his right, and got an idea. Scrambling, he grabbed the chair he'd been bound to and pulled it over to the wall under the vent, climbing up into it. He tried to work his fingers into the slots in the grate, but it was too small.

"I can't get it," he growled angrily, looking over his shoulder at his three friends. "I can't..." the teenager trailed off when he saw them all lying motionless on the rough concrete floor.

"Guys?" Stiles's voice was shaking when he spoke. None of them stirred, but he could see that, at least, Scott was still breathing, if only barely. Stiles turned back to the grate, grit his teeth, and jammed his fingers through the grate, scraping his skin and bloodying his fingers, until he could finally grip the metal firmly. Blocking out the pain, the teen pulled hard on the metal cover, once, twice, three times, until it finally came away in his hands. Stiles let out a sigh of relief, placing the grate on the seat of the chair and stepping on it before pulling his fingers back out, biting his tongue to keep from crying out. He found the source of the deadly gas—a vaporizer—placed way back in the vent, and quickly reached for it. His bloodied fingers brushed against the plastic, but he couldn't grab it. Desperation welled up inside him, and he climbed up onto the arm of the chair, launching himself up for just a moment or two, allowing him to reach further into the vent and at last grab the device.

"Yes!" Stiles cried in victory, quickly plucking the wolf's bane from its place in the machine, thus eliminating the source of the gas. Throwing both the vaporizer and wolf's bane aside, he quickly turned his attention to his friends, first going to Scott. He rolled his best friend over onto his back and shook him urgently.

"Scott!" the desperation in his voice was clear when he spoke. "Scott, wake up!"

After what felt like ages, Scott at last opened his eyes, coughing and gasping. Stiles felt weak with relief. Scott looked around, taking in the sight of the bloody grate, Stiles's mangled fingers, and the broken vaporizer in the corner. It didn't take long for him to figure out what happened.

"Scott, are you okay?" Stiles asked hesitantly.

"I'm fine," the young alpha wheezed. "Go get Malia; I've got Derek."

Stiles nodded and quickly went to Malia, trying desperately to wake her, as Scott dragged himself over to Derek's side.

"Derek," he said with a cough. Derek didn't stir, his body completely still. Scott's weakened heart picked up the pace as he shook his friend with what little strength remained to him as Malia came to across the room. "Derek!" he shouted as best he could. "Derek!"


Oh, no, what have I done? Well, nothing yet, really...Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, please don't forget to review! But I doubt you will because nobody loves me *sarcastic sobbing and eating of ice cream*. Lol, just kidding. Seriously though, if you could leave a review, follow, or favorite, I would appreciate it. Thanks for reading! ~Alyssa