It was quiet. Too quiet. It was way too quiet.

I shifted nervously in the driver's seat, trying not to show any emotion as I glanced over at Erica. I had texted her after Stiles dropped me off at my house, letting her know that I was on my way to pick her up for our play date. I hadn't even made it all the way to the train car when I saw her. Apparently, she was so anxious to get out of the den that she was willing to start walking to my house and meet me in the middle. She was now sitting in the passenger seat, scrolling through the songs on my iPod. I thought I'd give her a break and let her pick the music on the ride to my house. It was meant to be something of an olive branch, but so far, it hadn't really done much good.

She must have sensed that I was looking at her, because she finally clicked on a song an unceremoniously dropped my iPod between the seats. "You have terrible taste in music."

I sighed, half annoyed but half relieved at the return of our usual dynamic. "Ever heard of the saying 'Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole'?"

"Ever heard of the saying 'I literally have claws at the end of my fingers and I would rather gouge my eyes out than listen to most of your music'?"

"…No…"

Erica let out a small laugh, and rolled her eyes. "What did you tell your mom you were doing tonight? Can't imagine it's easy to get the car these days."

"I told her the truth."

"Yeah? Which part convinced her—the werewolf gang or the murdering kanima?"

"I told her I was going to a concert with some friends."

"Friends? That's what we're calling this now?"

"Well I thought it was simpler than explaining the whole girl-who-had-a-crush-on-my-boyfriend-and-got-turned-into-a-werewolf-who-I-have-a-truce-with-to-stop-the-town's-impending-doom thing." That one didn't get a laugh. I bit my lip, forcing myself to keep my eyes on the road. "What about you? I mean… What do your parents…?"

"My parents don't think anything."

Her voice was sharp, and we descended into awkward silence once more. I instantly regretted trying to make conversation. I shouldn't have expected the day to go so smoothly, not after Erica had so clearly expressed her…dislike for me. Still. I guess I'd hoped that since this whole thing had been her idea…

"Mom and I don't really talk much anymore," Erica said suddenly. I glanced over at her again, only to find that she was look at me equally surprised. She quickly looked away, sitting up a little straighter. "Ever since… Well, since the bite I haven't needed her as much. Perfect hair. Good complexion. No medication. I guess now that I don't need to be coddled I don't make much of a daughter."

"I'm sure that's not…"

"You don't know my mother," she snapped. "Even when I was in high school she nailed my life to a time table. She had to be there for every little thing, every waking moment. God forbid I breathe without telling her. I'm sick of it. And my dad, well… He hasn't even stayed home from work long enough to notice my skin cleared up." She flexed her fingers in front of her, inspecting the nails I half expected to be claws. But they weren't. They were just the long nails and chipped polish of a girl who had a less than desirable relationship with her parents. That was something I was finding all too relatable these days.

"Sounds like they do think something. You're different."

"They know I'm different. They just don't know I'm preparing for the next full moon and not sleeping around and doing drugs."

"Can you not do both?" I tried, and she snorted.

"Not with Derek as an Alpha. He's very into the whole constant vigilance, brooding boot camp sort of thing."

"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me. He's got a very good drill sergeant scowl."

"He literally has us doing obstacle courses. Off the train car, unnecessary front flip, table jump, try and beat the crap out of your Alpha. Like, you've got twenty-something years of experience being a werewolf. Big surprise I can't beat you in a fight after a couple of weeks."

"I know he's a hardass," I said with a small smile. "But I promise he does it cause some part of him cares. He doesn't talk about it much, but…he's been through a lot. He doesn't want anyone else to have to experience that. I just…don't think he's used to showing affection."

"Well for someone who's not used to showing affection, he's a pretty good kisser."

I almost crashed the car. Erica sat calmly, smirk stretched over her face and one delicate eyebrow raised as I fumbled with the steering wheel, gaping at her but trying to stay on the road. "Y-You…? What? Like actually, what? You seriously kissed Derek?"

"Yup," Erica replied, popping the 'p' sound at the end of the word. She shrugged in an overly casual way, and flicked a stray strand of hair over her shoulder. "We were in the middle of a training exercise, and I didn't want to listen to him lecture anymore. So I jumped him."

"Oh my God, what did he do?"

"I got him to respond for like half a second. And then he threw me on the ground and told me to never do it again."

"And did you? I mean, have—have you two been…?"

Erica gave me an unimpressed look. "I still have my head, don't I?"

I grinned, shaking my head a bit. "Yes. Yes, you do."

We arrived at the house a few minutes later, and I pulled up behind Lydia's black Beetle. Erica didn't wait for me to get out of the car, or to start walking to the house. I had to run after her, purse sliding down my arm as I clutched my open backpack to my chest. "Now remember, you're a friend of mine from school who I did a partner project with a few months ago. If Mom asks, you invited me to come tonight because you had a spare ticket and we have a mutual friend going who isn't going to know anyone else there. We should probably just agree that it's Isaac. I know Mom knows him, so—…"

"Yeah, yeah. Play nice, don't bark, don't pee on the carpet. I'm house trained, I got it."

I gave her a pointed look, but stepped around her without a response. I took a deep breath and then pushed open the front door. It was pretty quiet, but I could hear the sink running in the kitchen. "Mom? I'm home!"

"Be there in a sec!"

Erica looked at me with an expression of mild alarm as the sink turned off. Evidently, she hadn't counted on having to mingle with anyone else when she invited herself over to my house.

Before she could attempt to escape, Mom came strolling out of the kitchen. I noticed immediately that her smile was a bit forced, but she walked over to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek anyway. "Hi, sweetheart. And you must be Erica, hi! Sadie was just telling me about you before she picked you up."

"Um…yeah. Nice to meet you."

There was an awkward pause, my mom watching me while I looked at Erica, who was staring firmly at the floor. She might have had a wealth of self confidence around the boys at school, but apparently that emotion didn't carry over to authority figures. I thought about what she had been saying in the car about the way her mother treated her—policing her every move until she didn't feel comfortable around her anymore. She hadn't said much about her home life, but if Derek had chosen to turn her, I was willing to bet that it wasn't pretty. I didn't really want to ask. Hopefully, it wouldn't be as bad as Isaac's.

"Well I don't want to hold you girls up," Mom said finally, drumming her hands on her thighs. "Sadie, could I talk to you when you have a moment?"

"Actually," Erica interrupted. "I was just going to ask where the bathroom was."

"Oh, of course. Round the corner, second on your left."

Erica gave her an awkward smile and scurried out of the room. To her credit, I couldn't decide whether or not she was acting. Either way, I was positive she was still listening to the conversation as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

"What's up?" I asked, unsurprised by her hesitation.

"Just…how was school?"

"Fine."

"Did you do anything—…?"

"Mom."

She sighed, glancing toward the bathroom as if she too were anxious that Erica was listening in. "Remind me how you know Erica again?"

"She's in my chemistry class. We did a project together at the beginning of the year."

"I don't remember that."

"It was a small one. We just got to talking in class, and I see her around school. She's…nice." I forced the word out of my mouth with a smile, and imagined Erica smirking in the bathroom.

"It's just, I've never heard you talk about her before. And if this is about what I was saying yesterday about Stiles and Scott, this is not what I meant, sweetheart. I know your friends make you happy. I just want you to be careful. I don't want you to feel like you have to drop all your friends for different ones."

"I'm not," I said resolutely. "Erica's friends with Isaac, and she knows Scott, Stiles and Allison too… She's my friend. And she's really not as different as you might think."

"And…you're sure you want to go to this party tonight?"

"It's a concert with my friends, Mom. I'll be okay. It's…gonna be fun."

Mom nodded slowly and stepped forward to pull me into a hug. "Thank you for listening to my rambling. I just worry about you, sweetie."

"I know, Mom."

I closed my eyes, pressing my face down into her shoulder and trying not to think about just how legitimate those worries were. I wasn't just going to a concert with my friends. I was going to a rave where I'd be attempting to trap and sedate a bloodthirsty, supernatural animal that was my best friend's ex-boyfriend, and then tracking down a serial killer. That was dangerous enough. But what if we failed? What if the mountain ash didn't work? What is they knew we were coming? What if Jackson killed the girl anyway? Killed one of us? I couldn't lose any more friends. Even if we all survived, there was no way the sheriff's department was going to be able to keep another incident quiet, not with so many people around and so many deaths already chalked up. How was I going to convince my mom that I was just accidentally at another crime scene? How long could I expect her to believe that it was a coincidence?

"I'll call you when we get there," I promised, pulling back from the hug. "And when I'm on my way back."

She looked like she was going to protest, but Erica chose that moment to flush the toilet down the hall. Mom put her smile back on, patting my hair before our guest could reenter the room. "Thank you, Sadie. Oh, you girls are going to have so much fun. Go get ready. Let me know if you need anything."

Erica waited until my mom was back in the kitchen to walk in, a solemn look on her face. I did my best to ignore it. I didn't want to dwell on how much we were lying to our parents about our lives.

"Come on. My room is upstairs."

She nodded quietly, following me over to the staircase and up to the second level. I thought that she was going to let it go, until she caught up to my side. "Your mom doesn't want you hanging out with Scott and Stiles?"

I wanted to snap like she had in the car, but the question came out gentler than I expected it to. I could tell she was a little surprised by the altercation. She probably expected me to have a bubbly, happy relationship with my mother, something she could add to the perfect life she seemed to resent me for. Usually, my mom and I were close. But with all the supernatural terrors we were dealing with, no one's life was perfect.

"The supernatural kinda takes its toll on everyone," I said simply, and she looked away. "Let's just focus on the rave, okay? Now, I don't have a lot of appropriate clothes, but…"

"Sadie?"

Erica and I froze in front of my door. My head whipped to the right. Lydia was standing in the middle of the hallway, just outside her bedroom door. Her hair hung lankly on her shoulders, her face clean of any makeup, and she wore a large T-shirt and sweatpants. I hadn't even thought she owned sweatpants. She didn't look like Lydia.

"Hey," I breathed, taking a few steps forward. I was relieved when she didn't flinch or back up, but she still had a somewhat glazed look in her eye. She was really only half here.

"I heard voices."

"Uh, yeah. I brought Erica over. We're gonna go to that rave tonight. Do you want to come? I—I can see if anyone's got any spare tickets."

But Lydia had stopped listening. She was now staring past me, her eyes wide as they raked over Erica. I didn't think Lydia could look much more sickly, but suddenly she looked as if she belonged on her deathbed.

"Y-You were there," she said hoarsely. "You were with Derek. You were there the night that Jackson…Jackson…"

Lydia's chest started to rise and fall rapidly, and my heart clenched. I glanced back at Erica, but she was already nodding. She ducked into my room to remove herself from Lydia's sight and I ran forward to take my friend by the shoulders. "Lydia? Lydia, breathe. No one's gonna hurt you. It's okay. I promise, it's okay."

"N-No, it's not," she choked out, her eyes welling up. "I—I don't know what's going on! I never know what's going! How am I supposed to figure anything out? How do I know what's real?" I opened my mouth to reassure her, but her head snapped up and took me by surprise. In a flash, her hands grabbed my wrists in a vice grip, and I was stumbling back with Lydia just inches away. "Sadie, you have to help me! Promise you'll help me!"

"W-What?"

"Sadie, please! I don't know how to stop it!"

"How to stop what? Lydia, what's going on?"

"He won't stop talking to me. He's always talking to me. I don't understand. I just want him to go away. Please make him go away, Sadie."

My first instinct was to ask when Jackson had started bothering her. Last I checked, they hadn't really spoken since the day they'd fought and he kissed her. And suddenly she couldn't get rid of him? But the longer I stared at her, the colder my stomach grew. The nightmares. Her terror. I knew exactly who she was talking about. I was overcome with another wave of hatred for him. Even death didn't stop him from hurting my friends. In that moment, staring down at Lydia as she unraveled, I was ready to watch Peter Hale burn to death all over again.

I pulled Lydia to my chest, letting her sob into my shoulder. "I know, Lyd. It's okay. He's gone. He's not real."

"You don't understand," she said weakly. "He is. He's real. Everything is so real, and I—I don't want to believe him."

"Lydia, what is he telling you?"

I could feel her shake her head against me, and she pulled away to look up at me. "That you're lying to me. He says that you're dangerous and…that you're the reason he attacked me…"

My blood turned to lead in my veins. That was entirely too close to the truth for me to be comfortable with. I remembered emptying a round of bullets into Peter's chest, talking to him on the lacrosse field just before he gave me my ultimatum—accept the bite, or watch him tear Lydia apart. I'd never told Lydia about that part of the night. As far as she was concerned, I'd run out of the formal because I was too nervous to kiss Stiles. I'd run out to clear my head, and fainted after the mountain lion clawed my shoulder. It was all I could tell her, then. We didn't want to pull her into the supernatural turmoil, didn't know she might be turning. And I hadn't bothered to explain much since she'd gotten better. Look how that had turned out. Lydia was barely a shadow of herself, and more involved than any of us. She knew I was lying to her, but she wasn't supposed to know what I was lying about. Could it be a coincidence that the Peter she was imagining was saying exactly what the real Peter would say if he were alive? Did Lydia subconsciously blame me for the attack? Or, could Peter be…? No. I wouldn't even let myself consider that Lydia's brain was producing anything even slightly based on reality. Peter was dead. He wasn't allowed to be meddling with things from beyond the grave. Not when we were dealing with all the carnage of the kanima. Not with the Argents ready to start slicing bodies in half at any moment. Not when the thing he was meddling with was my best friend's life. Not if I had anything to say about it.

"I don't want to listen to him, Sadie. I don't! I just want him to go away."

"Okay, Lydia, listen to me." I held her face in my hands, dragging my thumbs over the tears on her cheeks. "He is not real. You know why? Because you beat him. You beat him, Lydia. You survived that attack, and he's gone. So next time you see him, you tell him. 'Sadie said you're not real. So you can fuck off.'"

Lydia sighed, controlling her breathing as she laid her hands over mine. "I hate this. I just want things to be normal again. But he just keeps telling me that I'm…"

Her voice trailed off, and I watched as the terror slowly drained from her eyes. Normally, that would have been a relief, but in that moment my heart clenched and sank through my chest. No terror meant no reality. It was the most I'd talked to Lydia in a week, the most lucid I'd seen her, and now she was gone.

"Lydia?"

"You should get ready for the concert," she said, her voice light and even, completely at odds with her tear stained face. "I'm probably just going to stay at home. But maybe I'll see you later. I may not be able to resist the temptation of a good party."

A chill passed over me as Lydia smiled, turning on her heel and leaving me alone in the hall. It took a few seconds before I was able to convince my feet to move. They dragged along the carpet, kindly moving me to my room without much thought.

Erica had made herself at home while she eavesdropped. She'd pulled her makeup, clothes, and hair straightener out of her bag, and was leaning casually up against my desk. I could tell she was uncomfortable, even as she cocked an eyebrow at my entrance. "And you still think she's perfectly okay?"

"I said she wasn't the kanima. I never said she was okay."

I ignored her gaze, walking over to my closet and sifting though my available shirts. I piled a few on my bed, but Erica didn't comment—either because she was still waiting for an explanation or because my taste was too abysmal to warrant comment. She was walking over, sifting through the options before tossing a white T-shirt at me. Without asking, she started rummaging through my dresser, pulling out a lightly tattered pair of jeans.

"You care about these?"

"Um…no? Not really…"

A ripping sound cut through the air, and Erica dropped what had been about ninety-five percent of the jeans to the floor. She threw my new cutoffs across the room, and before I could protest, she was wrist deep in my underwear drawer. Her hands reemerged with an electric blue bra I had no recollection of buying, and I winced.

"Is that really necessary?"

"It's a rave, Sadie. If you don't want to look like you're suspiciously lurking around, you have to play the part. So yes, the bra is necessary."
I pursed my lips and snatched the item from her hands, adding it to the somewhat small pile of clothes I would be wearing. "Fine. But I draw the line at strappy heels."

"Don't be stupid. You'd break your ankles. Just wear sneakers."

I nodded, pulling socks and shoes out while she started to do her makeup. As an added thought, I grabbed a zip-up hoodie. I wasn't going to freeze outside while everyone was inside partying and fighting to the death.

It was quiet for a while as Erica and I got ready. I put on some music in an attempt to hold off the awkwardness, but it didn't quite work. It was so different from getting ready with Lydia. Besides picking out my clothes and barking some orders about more makeup, Erica didn't fuss over me. She didn't ask for my opinion or want my help. She just stood to the side, confident and independent, and straightened her hair without even sparing me a glance. I battled between wanting to make conversation and not having anything to say. But Erica solved that problem too.

"Who was she talking about?"

I quickly looked at her reflection, but she wouldn't meet my gaze. She concentrated on her lipstick instead. I followed her lead.

"Peter Hale."

"That's Derek's uncle, right? The one he…"

"The one he killed, yeah."

I saw her hand falter in the mirror. She didn't like thinking of Derek as a murderer, not after everything he'd done for her. That was certainly something I understood. And what with everything she'd gotten pulled into without understanding, she deserved the truth.

"It wasn't all in cold blood, if that's any consolation," I sighed. "All those people who were killed last year. That was Peter. I don't think… He wasn't the same kind of Alpha as Derek, though. He… He was a monster. He wanted revenge for what happened to his family. In the end, I guess Derek did too."

Erica seemed to sense that I wasn't willing to reveal anything else about Derek's past, because she didn't push it. At the same time, she wasn't satisfied. "And Peter attacked Lydia?"

"At formal. That's why she was hospitalized this semester."

Lydia's disappearance hadn't exactly gone unnoticed in town. Nearly everyone seemed to know she was in the hospital for one reason or another. Derek's pack all seemed to know it was because she'd been bitten by an Alpha, but I wasn't sure how much they'd been told about the circumstance.

"It was my fault," I said quietly. "He wanted to turn me, so I could help him. He only attacked Lydia because I said no. And now…now I don't know what's happening to her…"

"Hey, Sadie…"

I turned to Erica, surprised to see that she was facing my head on. She was clearly thinking hard, and for a terrifying moment I thought she was going to launch into a consoling lecture about fault and guilt. Then she reached forward, claws extended, and ripped off the bottom half of my shirt.

I yelped and jumped back, making her roll her eyes. "Will you stop squirming? I'm actually not trying to hurt you."

"Sorry." I took a shaky breath, standing still as she cut the sleeves and collar away, leaving a dangerously deep slit down the middle that showed off my bra whether I wanted to or not.

"There. That's as close to sexy as I can do." She narrowed her eyes before fluffing my hair, then crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head toward the mirror.

It was certainly more…risky than I'd ever looked. I could see a lot more of my skin than I was used to seeing when I was dressed. My hair looked windblown without being in a breeze, and I had enough eye shadow on to rival a magazine model. I think I was a little surprised by how good it felt. It was a little awkward and new, sure, but I wasn't uncomfortable. It was nice.

I glanced at the expectant beta, giving her a genuine smile. "Thanks, Erica."

It was a heavy gratitude, something that counted for more than just thanks for playing dress up with me. Not acknowledging my guilty confession at all actually felt better than any thin reassurance she could have given me that I was wrong. That's what I truly appreciated.

Erica must have gotten the bulk of the message, because she scoffed with something that looked suspiciously like fake annoyance, and turned back to her own makeup. "Whatever. Now shut up and let me concentrate."

"Mind if I ask why you're so good at this stuff?" I asked instead. I plopped on the floor to put on my sneakers, and I could almost feel the animal growl she let out under her breath.

"Yes. I do."

"Hey, why are you so good at this stuff?"

She glared down at me, then shimmied her shoulders a bit to shake off her irritation. "You don't have to be attractive to have style. I got pretty into makeup when the nickname Pizza Face started sticking in middle school. I know what looks good on people. I just never thought it looked good on me. Derek gave me the bite, and now everything's hunky-dory."

I beat down my impulse to pry. The least I could do was treat Erica with the same distant respect she'd given me. If she wanted to talk about her insecurities, she would. For now, they were simply a fact of the past, and I understood that I was not meant to comment on them. So I took a different path.

"You're seriously not hooking up with him, right?"

"Why?" she snorted. "I'm not allowed to have Derek either?"

"Of course not. I mean—of course that's not it, not of course you're not allowed to—…"

"I get it. Chill."

"I just don't think he's your type."

"What about a handsome, hulking, bad boy seems not my type to you?"

"Erica, you liked Stiles," I reminded her with a small smile. "Handsome, hulking, bad boy is a little bit of a jump. Besides, it's…Derek…" I cringed, letting my arms flail around me as I shook off the idea of Derek dating one of his betas. He was an old, grumpy werewolf man, and I would continue to view him as such.

"I know you're kind of new here, but Beacon Hills isn't exactly hopping with desirable bachelors. Especially ones who are down with all the creepy stuff around."

"Well, I don't know…"

"You are not setting me up with Isaac," she said in a bored, but firm tone. "He's sweet, but the guy's all breath and no action. He's a complete tool when he gets on a power trip, and I know you wouldn't guess it, but he's a total horndog."

"Good to know. But, not actually who I was talking about…"

Erica paused, putting the cap back on her lipstick very slowly and placing it on the dresser. Her nails drummed on the surface, and her eyes dropped down to meet mine. "Boyd? Really?"

"He told me he likes blondes," I said with a shrug.

"Oh, bullshit. When would Boyd ever have talked to you about his taste in women?"

"Hey, not shit! We had a lovely conversation the day of formal. When I was kind of hiding from Stiles."

"Typical."

"Fine! Don't mind me. It was just a suggestion." I held up my hands in surrender, peering up at her with a smirk as she shook her head.

"Well keep your suggestions to yourself before I help suggest you to stop breathing."

Everything was a lot less awkward after that. Erica finished off her hair by curling the two pieces on either side of her face, and I patiently hummed along to the music on my radio. She saved me from staring morosely at Lydia's door by roughly grabbing my wrist when she was done, dragging me down the hall and down the stairs. We said goodbye to my mother, who eyed our legs but restricted herself to a light comment that she hoped we wouldn't be too cold. We were quick to leave after that.

It was another silent car ride on the way to the train car, but I honestly wasn't bothered by it. We swung by Toby's to pick up dinner as well. It cost a small fortune to feed four werewolves and a regular teenage girl, but it made me feel better about accepting the rave ticket from Derek. I let Erica put on her own music—base-filled techno mixes that made my car shake a bit on the downbeat. She insisted that it was in preparation for the rave, and yes it had to be that loud because she had to start preparing her sensitive hearing for the volume at the concert, and I was not allowed to have any control over the radio. For a moment, I was able to see the similarities between Erica and Lydia, even if the werewolf refused to acknowledge it.

The sky was already pitch black by the time we stopped in the abandoned parking lot. I still had to force myself to get out of the car. No many how many times I visited, there was something about the place that always seemed dark and eerie to me, even with Erica and her claws by my side and the light peeking out from the stairs. Erica strode ahead of my in complete ease, and I tried not to look over my shoulder.

"By the way," she said, stopping short and whirling around so I had to jump back. "If you so much and breathe a word about the conversation you were trying to have with me back at your house, I will rip out your tongue and shove it permanently down Stiles's throat."

I smirked and held up my hands, though the gesture was a bit hindered by the bags of fast food. "Don't worry. I promise not to make things awkward. Thanks for letting me know you're still thinking about it though."

Her eyes narrowed, and I saw the possibility of murder flash across them for a moment before she turned her back on me. "Come on."

I followed her inside, walking about half as fast down the stairs as I looked around. The wolf den, as Erica called it, was completely at odds with the parking lot outside. It barely looked like the abandoned train car I'd found earlier in the year. With all the lights on, the old paint on the walls looked almost golden, and while there was still trash and junk everywhere, it had been shifted towards the walls, or repurposed. Some tires had been pulled into a circle around a box, presumably to be used as chairs and a table, and I could see some equipment lined up for what must have been the obstacle course Erica was talking about. At the moment, it was all pushed to the side, clearing the floor for sparring practice. Isaac and Boyd were currently snarling at each other, eyes glowing bright as they jumped around the room and dodged attacks. Isaac jumped up and propelled himself off a wall, did an impressive front flip, and caught Boyd around the neck, nearly knocking the boy off his feet. But Boyd's heels stayed firmly on the floor, even as he bent backwards to accommodate Isaac, who seemed intent on holding him there until he won the match.

"Break it up, boys," Erica called as she hit the floor. "We've got company. If that's what you want to call it."

Isaac looked up from his opponent, eyes widening when he saw me on the stairs. "Sadie?"

In the next second, Boyd threw his feet up over his head, twisting himself out of Isaac's grip and throwing the poor guy to the concrete. I winced at the muffled groan he let out, but Boyd just smirked and dusted himself off. "Weak, man."

"Sure," Isaac groaned, peeling himself off the floor. "But I'm still winning three to two."

"Best four out of seven?"

"You're on."

He grinned as Boyd stuck out a hand, pulling him up to his feet. They pushed each other around, and I found myself smiling too. I was worried about Derek's pack, obviously. Derek might have tried to explain the situation to them before he bit them, but there was no way for them to truly comprehend the life they were resigning themselves to, the responsibility they were taking on. To be spending so much time with Derek underground and training non-stop, I assumed they must all be as worried and miserable as the rest of us were sometimes. But Isaac's smile made me reconsider that image. I wasn't sure when the last time I had seen him wear such a genuine smile had been. It was reassuring to see them laughing. Maybe some good had come from the bite after all.

"Not tonight, you're not," Erica said. "Stop fucking around and eat. We've got bigger things to worry about. Or did you forget about the literal serial killer?"

"You got burgers?" Isaac asked, hurrying over and pointedly ignoring everything Erica had said after the word 'eat.'

He dove into the bags of take out without invitation, grabbing two burgers and a side of fries before I could even put my bags down. Boyd was a little more polite, accepting the burger Erica handed him with a grateful smile before peeking into the bags to help himself to fries. She grinned right back at him, her gaze dropping to the floor before she set about feeding herself.

I hid my smile and fished out my order of curly fries, heading over to plop down on the floor next to Isaac. I paused when his head shot up from his already half eaten burger, his eyes looking slightly distant and alarmed.

"Uh oh."

"What's wrong?"

"What the hell are you wearing?" I looked up as Derek's voice cut through the air. He was storming out the train car, his brow knitted together in irritation as he glared down at me.

"Um, they're shorts, Derek."

"They're ridiculous," he retorted. "Maybe you forgot, but you're going to stop a murder, not to some stupid high school dance party."

"You know what, you're right. I got completely distracted. I was only thinking about looking nice and having fun when I got ready today. Totally forgot about the fact my friends and I might die trying to save someone's life."

He growled at my sarcasm, and I caught the flicker of red seeping into his eyes. "You're not going like that."

"Excuse me?" I laughed, the sound bitter and maniacal as I walked towards him. "As hilarious as it is that you want to have this conversation right now, I'm not one of your betas. You can't tell me what to do."

"Like hell I can't. You can change into something of Erica's."

"Right, because her clothes are so much more modest and less distracting than this."

"At least they're not shredded."

"Which was not my idea!"

Derek cast a sharp glance over at Erica, who was sitting quietly between Isaac and Boyd. All three of them were watching us with wide eyes and slack jaws. Erica quickly held up her hands, something between a defensive gesture and an apology. If I'd been less annoyed, I might have laughed. They looked like guests awkwardly watching a friend fight with their parent.

I huffed, turning back to Derek with narrowed eyes. "Look, there are more important things to be thinking about. Everyone knows that. So let's stop wasting time arguing. Eat your food, and let's go over the plan."

There was a minute of silence as he looked at me carefully. His jaw was clenched, his muscles visibly twitching in anger and frustration, but I could see the resignation building up in his face until he looked back at the rest of his pack. "You've got fifteen minutes. Then we leave."

I hid my smile of victory as he walked back to the train car, and I grabbed one of the take out bags before following him. I collapsed into the same chair I had when Derek and I had our last dinner, and chucked him a burger without bothering to check if he was looking. He caught it effortlessly.

"Where are Scott and Stiles?"

"At home," I answered, returning to my fries. "I'm going to meet them at the back entrance of the warehouse. Everyone can head inside, and Stiles and I will surround the place in mountain ash. Supposedly it'll make some sort of barrier. Deaton says we need to believe it for it to work, but…gotta say that's not going too well at the moment…"

"Mountain ash is powerful on its own. All you need to do is lay the circle and let it do everything else. It'll work. Besides, you're too stubborn for it not to." I smirked at the jab, but he seemed to notice that it hadn't done much to reassure me. "We're gonna be fine, Sadie. Stop worrying."

"If it works, you guys are gonna be locked in there. If things get out of hand with Jackson…"

"That's why we've been training. They're not the best fighters, but they can take care of themselves. I don't care how terrifying the kanima is supposed to be. I'm not letting him hurt my pack. It'll be five against one."

"Two," I said softly. "It'll keep you guys locked in, but hopefully Jackson's friend will be stuck too. Then we can at least figure out who it is, if not stop them."

Despite his earlier confidence, he quirked an eyebrow at the word 'hopefully.' None of us really knew what was going to happen to the person controlling the kanima. Just because they were connected to a supernatural creature didn't mean they were one. There was a significant possibility that they'd be able to waltz right out and leave everyone else stuck in a ring of death with the kanima. All we had to go on was the kanima's fear of water, which couldn't be from Jackson. It was a weak guess at best.

We ate in silence for a few minutes, before he finally looked up again. "I need you to drive Erica and Isaac."

"Why?" I asked. "You guys all fit in the Camaro."

"I want as many escape options as possible. Just in case something goes wrong."

"Okay. Why Erica and Isaac?"

His chest jolted with a small laugh, though any smile he might have been wearing was hidden behind his burger. "Boyd isn't exactly for the party scene. He's staying on the perimeter with me."

"Right. I think someone's playing favorites."

I definitely saw the smirk this time, even as he tried to look unamused. "And I think you should stop talking before I—…"

"Yeah, yeah. My throat, your teeth, I got it. You seriously need to get some better threats, Papa Wolf."

Derek's eyebrows shot up in an incredulous look. I was smart enough to leave the train car before he could act on his threat.

I hopped out the door and made a beeline for the stairs, trying not to snigger. "Come on. Isaac, Erica, you're with me."

"Wha?" Isaac asked, his words garbled in his stuffed mouth. Honestly, I was a bit surprise he still had any food left. "I's only be'n leh ten mehnets!"

"I don't think Jackson's exactly murdering on a schedule. You can eat in the car. Up."

Isaac's groan was cut off when Erica smacked his shoulder, taking a fistful of his shirt and hauling him to his feet. He quickly grabbed the last side of fries that was sitting on the table, and followed her towards the stairs.

"Hey," Boyd said, catching me just before I headed to follow them. "Thanks for dinner, Sadie. I'm… I'm glad we're all working together now. It's better like this."

I gave him a small smile, more than a little taken aback. "Yeah. I think so too. Stay safe tonight."

"Yeah. You too."

He gave a solemn nod before heading to the train car to regroup with his Alpha, and I jogged outside to catch up with Isaac and Erica. As reluctant as they had been to leave they were both waiting very impatiently by the car, Isaac bouncing next to the passenger door in a way I could only imagine involved him shouting "shotgun." However the both climbed in very calmly when I unlocked the car, and were silent when I settled behind the wheel.

"Okay, one murderous rave coming up."

"Can you please stop talking like a PTA mom and drive?" Erica growled from the back seat. "You're giving me a headache."

"Sorry, it's the minivan. It makes me feel like a soccer mom. Is your seatbelt on?" Isaac barely smothered his snort as I glanced back at Erica, who was looking at me as if she were honestly contemplating setting me on fire. I shrugged and threw the car into drive. "All right, no more den mother jokes. You're no fun."

I put her music on again to ease the tension, but she already seemed sufficiently checked out at that point. She just stared out the window as I drove, ignoring the quiet conversation I was having with Isaac about our favorite bands. I think it had to be one of the first real conversations I'd had with him, besides the night of formal. It was like getting a glimpse at that Isaac again, the shy boy before the bite. He was still there, but less shy now, and as worried as I was about him being under the sole care of Derek, he seemed happy. If he could survive the night, maybe that would be enough.

I pulled up to the front of the warehouse first, stopping the car by a small group of conspicuous people who were doing a terrible job of hiding the secret party. Erica was jumping out almost before the car stopped, and I had to call after her. "Be safe! Make good choices!"

Isaac laughed next to me, shaking his head. "Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on her."

"I was thinking that I need her to keep an eye on you." I hesitated for a moment, but gently grabbed his wrist. His body went rigid under the touch. "Just be careful, alright? I'm hoping this goes off without a hitch with so many of us, but…Jackson's dangerous. And we don't even know what the person controlling him is capable of."

"I know what I'm capable of," he said in a steely voice, the tone making my stomach turn.

"Isaac…"

"I won't kill him," he said, the eye roll audible in his voice. "But I'm not going down without a fight."

"That's what I'm worried about."

Isaac looked back at me, holding my gaze for a moment. He flipped his wrist in my grip, sliding his arm back until his was holding my hand. It wasn't the kind of grip Stiles would have had—with our fingers interlocked and thumbs loosely crossing. Isaac kept his fingers together, and gave my hand a gentle, supportive squeeze that reminded me of Scott. "I knew that this was gonna be dangerous when Derek asked if I wanted the bite. All of us did. I didn't know dangerous meant fighting human lizards exactly, but that's not the point. We're here to stop Jackson, and that's what we're gonna do. I'll be careful," he added in an exasperated tone, the moment I opened my mouth. "You be too. Just cause you're not coming in doesn't mean you're safe."

"I know," I said softly.

Isaac let go of my hand and hopped out of the car. "Stop worrying so much, Sadie. It ruins your charm. We'll call you if we need backup." He gave me a practiced, roguish smile and disappeared into the crowd.

Resigning myself to the fact that there wasn't much more preparation we could do, I pulled the car around to the back of the warehouse. There were less cars there, less people, less light, and my body gave another involuntary shiver. I didn't have a good feeling about our plan. I couldn't even fathom how many things could go wrong, or which one of them was most likely. At this point, all I could do was hope we got out with minimal damage.

My anxiety lessened slightly when I sighted the Jeep, a light blue that stood out amidst the darker, shorter cars around it. I pulled into the adjacent spot just as the boys climbed out, and put on the best game face I could muster. "Hey, good timing."

Scott smiled when he saw me, raising an eyebrow. "I guess Erica got her claws into you."

"Yeah. Kind of literally."

I held up the edge of my shirt with a sheepish grin, preparing myself for the barrage of comments from Stiles. But they never came. I looked toward the back of the car, where Stiles had opened the hatch and started to pull out the garbage bags of mountain ash. He hadn't even looked up when I arrived.

I turned to Scott, but he didn't seem altogether surprised by his response. He pursed his lips with worry, stepping around the Jeep and bouncing on the balls of his feet next to his best friend. "Hey, uh…you okay?"

"Yeah, why?" There was a hollowness in his voice that instantly betrayed that he em class=""wasn't/em okay, was far from it, but he didn't even seem to have the energy to hide it.

"You just didn't say anything the whole way here. Not to mention your girlfriend just showed up and you uh…didn't say anything."

Stiles looked at Scott with something that almost looked like surprise, and then glanced over at me. He pursed his lips into a tight line, which I assumed was meant to be a smile, and nodded. "Hey. You look nice. Definitely got the whole…rave vibe…"

"Yeah…thanks…"

He turned back to Scott with a small shrug. "See? I'm fine. Just grab the other bag."

"I can't. Remember, Deaton said you guys have to do it alone."

"Okay, this plan is really starting to suck," Stiles groaned.

"It's okay, I got it," I offered. I walked around to the trunk, laying what I hoped was a calming hand against Stiles's chest before I hauled the other garbage bag out of the Jeep. "You know, I really hope we have enough of this to go around. This building is huge, and I feel like this isn't a lot of…"

"No!" I quickly pulled my head out of the car, looking at Scott in alarm. His eyes were unfocused, his head turned toward the building and his body completely rigid. Clearly, something was wrong. "No, not here! Not now!" Without another word, he took off toward the front of the building, leaving a very confused Stiles and I in the dust.

"What? Scott! What are we supposed to—…? Plan officially sucks!"

"Great start to the night, huh?" I said dryly, slamming the hatch on the Jeep shut and dropping the bag on the ground.

"Yeah, you're not kidding." I watched him carefully as he glared at the bag in his hands. His knuckles were white from his grip, and I could see his jaw clenching and unclenching every few seconds.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked softly. I pulled one of his hands from the bag, holding his fingers loosely in mine. "Talk to me, Stiles."

"It's…nothing."

"Stiles, I'm serious. If something's wrong, you can always…"

"I said I'm fine, Sadie." He pulled his hand from mine, and hauled his garbage bag of magic dust up over his shoulder. "Let's just get this over with and get out of here. I'll meet you on the other side."

"Stiles…"

But he wasn't listening. He walked past me without so much as a glance, picking a hole in the plastic and laying the beginning of the circle. I couldn't do anything but watch as he walked away, his back disappearing around the corner before I could make myself take a single step. It felt like my heart had sank all the way to my feet, rooting me to the spot no matter how much I wanted to go after him. 'Not a great start to the night' didn't even come close.

I reluctantly began my walk around the building, dragging my bag of mountain ash beside me. I could hear the music pumping inside, and after a few more minutes, sounds I was sure were guns firing. Something was going wrong, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The ash was the best line of defense we had for stopping and containing the damage, and I knew that it should have been my first priority. But how was I supposed to concentrate on making the mountain ash work when I knew that my friends where in immediate, non-supernatural danger and I wasn't doing anything about it?

I tried to absorb myself in the task of checking the width of the line. Deaton had said to make it two inches thick for the barrier to hold, and I spent some time pretending that was the most important part of the plan. Unfortunately, the mountain ash seemed to be all too cooperative in that regard. It created a straight, even line on the ground, even when I walked faster, even when my body swayed to the point I was sure I would leave a curve on the ground. It laid straight and true, which should have been a comfort. But at that moment, I was too anxious to concentrate on something to appreciate it. I could feel the fear of the darkness lurking in the corner of my mind, the anxiety welling up until my strength finally broke. I pulled my phone out, dialing Stiles's number as my eyes flicked nervously around me, looking for red eyes I knew couldn't be there.

"What's going on? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm fine. I just…I thought it would be smarter if we stayed on the phone. You know, just in case…"

"Just in case one of us gets shot, or Reptar decides to leave the building?"

I smiled slightly, pinning the phone between my ear and shoulder as I held the bag of mountain ash with both hands. Even upset, he was still Stiles. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Fair enough," he sighed. "How you holding up?"

"Okay. If you ignore my quickly developing fear of being alone in the dark and the feeling that something is going to go ridiculously and terribly wrong."

"Now why would you feel like that?"

"Funny. How are things on your side?"

"Well, I'm starting to hate this whole magic dust thing. I don't trust the guy. For all we know, we're circling the building with pencil dust or something."

"How many pencils do you think this is?"

I heard a soft breath of laughter on the other end of the line, and I could instantly picture his grudging smile. "I'm just worried this isn't going to work."

"I know. But we have to try. If we don't believe it, then it definitely won't work. If we believe and it still lets us down, then we can go after Deaton together. Promise."

There was no agreement. No thought out plan of how to trap and interrogate the vet. There wasn't even a chuckle. Instead, there was a pensive silence, and a mumbled confession.

"I hate being a let down."

I faltered in my step, all my energy momentarily dedicated to a painful tug of concern on my heart. "No. Stiles, you…you are not a let down. Ever. You can do this. I know you can."

He didn't reply to the support. I could barely even tell the line was still connected. I hoped that was a good thing. Maybe he was trying to focus on making the mountain ash work instead of arguing with me. Knowing Stiles, I doubted it. I willed my legs to move a little faster, anxious to be able to see him again

"I'm coming around the corner now. See you in a second."

I tried again to turn my attention to the last of the mountain ash, unnecessarily making sure I was leaving a strong, solid line in my wake. I had to shake the bag towards the end, the last few sprinkles of dust collecting neatly into a pile. I stared down at it, trying not to be skeptical. This would work. The sparkly black dust would stop the kanima and his master from escaping. Deaton had said so. Derek had said so. It would work.

Stiles rounded the opposite corner a minute later, barely acknowledging me before he hung up the phone. I tried to keep my face blank as he walked toward me. Any more concern might set him off, but a forced smile would probably do the same. It was all I could do to bite my tongue as he approached, his eyes on the ground as he watched the last of the ash drain from the garbage bag. And then he stopped. About fifty feet away.

Stiles stared at me in horror for a moment before his eyes began a panicked path between my face, the bag and the other end of the line. "Oh no. No, no, no. Don't you—fuck! Sadie, please tell me you're just taking a break because your arms are in so much pain from carrying your ridiculously heavy bag that's still full of mountain ash."

"No," I managed to sigh, lifting my carefully emptied bag into the air. "No, I'm not."

"Shit." He picked up his bag again, shaking as much of the remaining powder as he could into his hand. It was barely enough to fill his fist, let alone close the gap. My heart clenched in a cold grip again as Stiles looked up at me. "You know how you were afraid something might go ridiculously and terribly wrong? I think it just did."

A/N: Uh-oh! What are they gonna do? That's the beauty of fanfiction. You all sort of know already, so this isn't really a cliffhanger haha. It's taken me a while to put this together between writing on the train and typing at work, but it's up. Slowly chipping away at all of my stories. Also, if you're reading this you probably like Teen Wolf, and it's probably a good time to remind you all that I run a YouTube channel called Basically Banshees with live watches and recaps. We just put up a music video to prep for season 5, so take a look!

Thank you all so much for supporting this story. Really, the fact that I'm still writing it two years later is kind of mind boggling to me. Thank you for your favorites, follows, and the reviews I got from Rock-Anne26, Momsen-xxxx, XLostxinxWonderlandX314, katiesgotagun, RHatch89, mymi092, DustyClouds, Guest, xRedxMoonx, MsRose91, PrincessMagic, Sierra R, Kendra Sorenson, Nikkita starr ta, NotSureHowToMingle, Janriel, hinataonicha, and LionHeartMisfit. :)

Thanks again for reading, and good luck with the season 5 premiere!

-Brittney