AN: So this is the last chapter :'( hope you guys like it.

Just as a WARNING there is mention of suicide in this chapter and some other darker themes. This story is M rated!

Its also quite long because it was gonna be 2 chapters and then I didn't wanna split it so yeah.

Enjoy :)

Stiles and I didn't risk the elevator on the way up to my apartment. The number of times it had broken down in the few months Derek and I had lived in the building was ridiculous. It somehow felt colder than it had when Derek and I had been there before. I'd planned on checking out the apartment for any clues first before heading over to Marty's place to see if she'd heard anything. As I approached the door, I rummaged in my bag for the key I hoped I still had. If I couldn't find it, I'd just break it down. As I continued to search, however, Stiles bumped my arm with his hand before gesturing to the door and trying the handle. It swung open, already unlocked.

I pushed through, Stiles hot on my heels as we entered the dark apartment. The first thing that hit me was the mugginess of the air. It felt heavy and there was a hint of something vulgar in it. I reached for the light switch and flicked it on, the small LED bulb illuminating the room.

It appeared much the same and I went to work on trying to find any clues that could indicate Derek's whereabouts. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Stiles walking around nosily as he took in the apartment. It wasn't anything special. I'd always thought of it as a vastly smaller version of the loft.

'You got a key for this door?' I heard Stiles ask and looked over to see him rattling the door to the kitchen.

'We don't lock that door,' I said exasperatedly. It'd always seemed pointless having a door there anyway. I'd planned on having it removed if Derek and I'd stayed longer.

'I can't open it,' he said, shaking the handle again as if the emphasise his point. I frowned, walking over to the door and trying the handle myself. He was right. It wouldn't open. I tried it again. Still no luck. Weird.

'Well I don't have a key,' I told him, growing irritated. 'Crabby Paul never gave us one.'

'Crabby P-?'

'Never mind,' I said quickly, cutting him off. I grabbed the handle one more time and turned it sharply with as much force as I could. There was a snap and the entire piece of metal sheared off the wood. I huffed, feeling annoyed that I'd now shown Stiles my new-found strength. I could feel his eyes on me but I didn't turn to address him. 'I'll tell you later,' I mumbled, pushing the kitchen door open.

Blood.

It was spattered everywhere. It clung to the walls and seeped along the laminate flooring. I gasped at the grim scene. The muggy feeling was ten times worse than it had been in the main room. My eyes watered at the smell of death that pervaded the room. I held a hand to my mouth and felt Stiles step around me to see the reason why I'd stopped dead in the doorway.

'Oh my god,' he breathed and I subconsciously worried he'd collapse at the sight of the gory display.

The body lay face up on the ground, skin pale and yellowing, eyes wide and glossy. Limbs were bent at impossible angles from the awkward way they'd fallen. It was like something from my nightmares, only this was real. I was seeing it with my own eyes.

I stepped closer, gagging at the horrifying nature of what I was seeing. I guessed she must've been there for a few days, locked in the kitchen and out of sight by her murderer. She looked both shocked and frightened at the same time and I didn't want to imagine what was going through her head in her last few moments of life. In fact, the expression on her face was in such stark contrast to the expression she'd warn when she was alive that I almost didn't recognise her. But I would never mistake that hair for anyone else's. The cobalt hair that started off light at the roots and intensified as it grew. The vibrant locks that now looked a muddy purple due to the amount of blood that coated the strands.

It was Marty.

Cause of death wasn't hard to determine. If the bullet wound between her eyes didn't give it away then Argent's Glock that was clasped tightly in her cold, dead hand surely did. I'd given her that gun. Her blood was on my hands.

'Suicide?' It wasn't Stiles' fault that he was naïve, but my friend was dead. I was done being nice.

'Murder,' I corrected, my eyes still on her face. I couldn't look away even though to look caused me so much pain. 'Marty never would've…' I trailed off. Marty never would've killed herself. That's what I wanted to say. I just couldn't stomach it.

'You know her?' Knew. I didn't correct him this time.

'She lives across the hall.' This time it was me who'd made the mistake. 'She lived across the hall.' I was in shock, so much so that I flinched violently when Stiles put a comforting hand on my shoulder. I shot him an apologetic look.

'I need to uh…' I trailed off, looking around, unsure what to do. 'You should wait outside. You don't need to see all this.' He scoffed though not unkindly.

'Alex, this isn't exactly the first dead body-.'

'Just get out, Stiles!' I said harshly. His eyes widened at my outburst and he backed out slowly. I sent him an apologetic look. He was right. It wasn't the first dead body he'd scene. But that was the problem. To him, Marty was just a dead body. A clue. To me, she'd been a friend. Still, it wasn't his fault. I just needed a moment.

I bent down and prised the gun from her stiff fingers. He'd meant it to look like this – like a suicide. To anyone else, that's exactly what it did look like. But to me, it was a message. A warning. A move in an elaborate game of cat and mouse he'd constructed that only I would understand. I grabbed a tea towel from a draw and wrapped the weapon in it, though I doubted the Scavenger was stupid enough to leave fingerprints. Before I left, I leant over her, my fingers brushing over her eyelids to close them. It was the least I could do for her. It was me who'd gotten her killed. As I stood, however, my focus was brought to her other hand. It was fisted around something and I reached over to pull it from her hand.

It was a piece of paper crumpled into a tight ball. I opened it up, confusion taking over when I saw that it was a statement from Kansas state bank. But then I saw what was written across the numbers and figures, my stomach dropping to the floor.

He's next.

I knew instantly who he was talking about. Derek. Derek was next. I took a breath, turning over the paper to see something else written on the back.

Meet me where it all started.

I stood up, walking out of the kitchen to meet Stiles in the main room. I showed him the letter and he frowned at it.

'He's gonna kill him,' I breathed, unable to make my voice any louder. He looked back at me, worry filling his eyes. 'You got a light?' He nodded, pulling a small purple lighter from his pocket. I took it, grabbing the paper from his hands and setting the corner on fire.

'What are you doing?' he asked with a frown.

'You think this in the hands of anyone else is a good idea?' I asked incredulously. He agreed reluctantly and we watched the piece of paper burn into nothing by smoke and ash.

'Alex, I think we need to call the cops,' he said. I shot him a no way in hell look.

'If the cops show up now all they'll do is ask questions and fuck everything up,' I said harshly. 'I don't have time for that. Derek doesn't have time for that.'

'I get that, Alex, but this guy is a serial killer,' he told me. 'A supernatural serial killer. At least let me call my dad.'

'No,' I insisted. 'I told you my terms when I let you come with me, Stiles. We're not involving anyone else.'

'For god's sake, Alex, we can't handle this alone!' Stiles yelled. I could see him growing agitated with me. It was understandable. I was being reckless. 'I mean, you haven't even been alive for twenty-four hours and you've been different ever since you woke up.'

'No I haven't,' I protested. He shot me a look.

'Yes, you have!' he argued. 'This guy is getting to you, Alex. Not to mention you're insanely strong now. Where did that come from?'

'I don't know, okay,' I admitted. 'I feel like I'm on steroids or something.' He sighed, running a hand through his chocolate hair that was completely wild like he hadn't paid any attention to it in weeks.

'I think we should call Scott and the others,' he said. 'We should tell them what's happening and wait for them here.' I stared at him and something told me he wasn't going to conform to the rules I was setting anymore. He wasn't going to back down. I nodded.

'Okay,' I said.

'Okay?' he asked, as if he thought I was going to put up more of a fight. I nodded again.

'Okay.' He sighed with relief and got out his phone to make the call. 'Mind if I break the news?' I asked and he handed his phone over. I bit my lip as I unlocked it, wondering if I was making the right decision. After a moment, I concluded that I was. It was the right thing for everyone. So I smashed his phone against the floor, using the heel of my boot to make sure it was completely dead.

'Alex, what the-.'

'Sorry Stiles.' I cut him off before sending my fist into his temple.

'Hey?' I asked as I snapped my fingers in front of Stiles' face that was slowly regaining consciousness. I had meant to knock him out, but I hoped my new strength hadn't done anything more serious. 'You alright?' He blinked rapidly, his eyes squinting in the brightness of the bathroom.

'Ugh,' he groaned. 'Alex? What the hell?' I sighed in relief at the fact that he was able to form a coherent sentence.

'Sorry, you might have a concussion,' I said, examining the side of his head where my fist had collided with his skull. I was sure he'd end up with a tremendous black eye.

'You knocked me out,' he said with a frown as if he wasn't sure if it had actually happened. I stood, grabbing the can of ice tea I'd found in the fridge and pressing it to the side of his head. It was the only thing I could find in the fridge-freezer that would work like an ice pack. At least for a while.

'Can't have you following me,' I told him with a small smirk of victory, though I wasn't sure what I had to feel victorious about. Maybe that I'd managed to outsmart the smartest person I knew? Even that seemed too cruel.

'What?' he asked as I stood up. He tried to follow before realising he couldn't. His hand was handcuffed to the towel rail. 'Where are you going?'

'I've gotta find Derek,' I said. 'I've gotta finish this once and for all.'

'No way,' he told me, shaking his head. 'Not alone!' He was worried. Furious and worried.

'Yes, Stiles!' I yelled. 'Alone! Too many people have died, Stiles. Too many people have died because of me!' My eyes were watering and I tried to hold back the tears. Marty was the last straw. I needed to finish this. I needed it to be over. 'I can't let that happen anymore.'

'Look, Alex, let's just wait for Scott and the others,' Stiles pleaded. 'They can help. We'll do this together!' His offer sounded tempting, but I couldn't accept it.

'No,' I said, shaking my head. 'I have to go. Just me.' I turned to leave but Stiles called me back. His voice was desperate. He was so worried about what could happen.

'So, what? Are you just gonna leave me here?' he asked, gesturing to the bathroom we were both in.

'Pretty much,' I replied with a sarcastic smile. He glared back at me. I grabbed the bag I stocked up with the other things I found in the fridge. 'There's food and water in that rucksack,' I said. 'You should be fine for a while.'

'Well that's perfect, thanks,' he said sarcastically. I narrowed my eyes at him.

'Just be glad you're in the bathroom in case you have to pee,' I said, much to his annoyance. He jiggled the handcuffs, sending me an incredulous look.

'Right,' I said, realising the floor in my plan. 'I guess you'll just have to hold it.'

'Alex, this is ridiculous!' he yelled at me in protest. 'You can't go after Derek alone. You don't even have a car!' I bit my lip as I fumbled in my jacket pocket for what I was looking for. His eyes widened at the sight of his own car keys handing from my fingertips.

'I have the jeep.'

'Alex, I swear to god…'

'You're mad,' I pointed out, grabbing my things and turning to leave again. 'It's good that you're mad at me. It'll make this easier.'

'What?' Stiles asked, his voice suddenly more serious and terrified. 'Make what easier?' I didn't reply. 'Alex, what are you gonna do?'

'I'll call your dad when I'm outta the state,' I said flippantly, ignoring his question. 'He'll come pick you up.'

'Alex!' he shouted as I stepped out of the bathroom.

'Bye Stiles,' I mumbled under my breath as I shut the door.

'Alex, wait!' But I was already gone. I pushed the dresser across the door to give it an extra level of reinforcement. Furthermore, if the cops did show up unexpectedly before the Sheriff, it would look like someone locked him in there and he wouldn't seem like a suspect for Marty's murder.

On my way out, I dropped Argent's Glock into the dustbin, hoping that the small act of removing the weapon would make it clear that her death wasn't a suicide. She deserved better than that.

The derelict building was a shell of what I imagined it looked like before. It had been completely gutted by the fire that occurred there almost twenty years ago. I was surprised it was still standing. I would've thought the university would've wanted to knock it down and rebuild, but I guessed maybe they'd found other funding to build the new science building somewhere else.

The drive to Kansas was long and I was glad that my ability meant I only needed to stop for gas. Luckily the jeep hadn't crapped out like I'd expected. It'd been a day since I'd left Stiles in my apartment in Oregon. The conversation I'd had with his father had been brief and I'd basically just hung up on him before he could start to panic and yell. Then I'd turned my phone off so no one could get hold of me.

As the monstrous concrete building loomed over me, I knew I was in the right place. Meet me where it all started. That's what the note had said. I couldn't think of any other place that would mean. This was the place I'd been created. This was where my parents died. This is where I'd been thought dead.

The gate surrounding the construction was bolted with a thick chain and padlock. Signs were scattered everywhere warning against entering since the building wasn't safe. I ignored them, pulling at the padlock until the metal snapped in my hand. Stiles was right. I was insanely strong now. Although I didn't know the reasons why, I was glad that maybe I'd be a better match for whatever beast I met within the concrete walls.

I entered through a giant whole in the back of the building where the walls were being strangled by ivy trails. I clutched my Glock in my hand as I manoeuvred through the rubble. The night was closing in, casting long shadows across the room. I could see stairs up ahead, but they were crumbling and half of the basic structure of them was gone. I approached slowly, flicking on a flashlight I'd found in Stiles' glove compartment.

It was tricky getting up to the first floor. I twisted my ankle several times and ended up ripping Malia's ripped jeans even more. This floor was worse than the other. I had to be extra careful not to fall through a gaping hole in the ground floor ceiling. I scanned the area with the flashlight that was braced over the gun. The walls were black with soot. How many people had James said died in the fire? Forty? Fifty?

There was a soft groan from behind me and I turned around, ready to fire at the enemy. I could hardly see, but as I squinted through the darkness, I could see a figure on the ground propped up against the wall.

"Derek?" I whispered, unsure whether my eyes were deceiving me. I ran to him, my feet not carrying me fast enough as I sped towards him, dropping the flashlight and Glock on the floor next to him as I collapsed on the floor. "Oh my god," I breathed as my hands made contact with his face. His skin was ashen and clammy, his lips stained with something dark. But it was him. This time, it was really him.

"Alex?" he breathed, his chest heaving.

"Yes-yeah, it's me," I said, both of my hands cupping his face as I pressed my forehead to his. "I found you." My voice was so quiet as I whispered to him, my eyes watering. I'd missed him so much. "I found you," I told him, brushing a hand through his dark hair. He smiled weakly, his dull eyes lighting up for a second. He looked so weak. So tired. My hands ran across his chest, looking for an injury. I couldn't see one.

"Alex," he breathed, one of his hands grabbing mine to stop my frantic search. "You have to get out of here." I shook my head at him.

"I'm not going anywhere," I promised him as a tear slipped down my cheek. "I'm not gonna leave again. Not ever." I continued my search, gently pulling his head forwards to see if I'd missed a head injury. And then I saw it: the fat needle in his forearm. I followed the tube to see that it connected to an IV bag. "What is this?" I asked, turning it to the side to try and identify the gloopy substance that was circulating into my wolf's blood stream.

"It's wolf's bane," he said, and I gasped, ripping the needle from his arm. He winced.

"Sorry," I said, pressing my hand to the small puncture wound that was leaking blood. Black blood. I tried not to panic, but I knew what it meant. He'd been poisoned by something designed to kill werewolves. I needed to get him to Deaton as fast as possible. "Can you stand?" I asked, my eyes gliding back to his face. The disgusting black substance had started to seep from between his lips and I wiped it away from his chin. "Come on, we need to get you outta here."

"You're not going anywhere." The voice that came from the shadows had me spun around with my Glock in my hand in less than a second, my stance defensive as I protected the powerless man behind me.

"Who's there?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. The hand holding the gun was shaking erratically.

"I think you know, Alexia," the voice said, causing my blood to run cold.

"Show yourself," I demanded. The hooded figure stepped out of the shadows, his face masked by the darkness surrounding him. He was as I remembered. If it was possible, he was more intimidating. More terrifying. "What do you want?"

"You know what I want," he replied darkly. His voice made me sick. It was grating. Deranged. Familiar. "Why don't you put the gun down and we'll have a civilised conversation."

"I'd prefer not to," I replied, trying to sound confident as he took a step towards me. He took another step and I fired the gun, the bullet landing in his chest. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to happen. Although I'd hoped he'd just drop down dead, I somehow knew it wouldn't be that easy. His hand went to his chest and a few moments later he'd fished the bullet out of his flesh and discarded it on the floor. "You can already heal pretty well," I said as if impressed. "What do you need me for?"

"I want immortality," he said, taking yet another step forward. I didn't fire the gun again, worried it might piss him off. This guy was dangerous. He'd killed countless numbers of people. He'd killed Marty.

"Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be," I warned him lightly, hoping to by myself more time to figure out a way to get Derek out alive. He was my priority. I didn't care what happened to me as long as he was safe. "How'd you find us anyway?" The question had baffled me. I'd spent time in Beacon Hills with so many other supernaturals that I thought it would've been the first place he'd search for me. But as soon as I'd left and moved to Oregon, he'd discovered my whereabouts. "How'd you get Derek?"

"Ah yes," he said, chuckling to himself. The sound made bile rise in my throat. "That wild goose chase I sent him on was fun to spectate," he mused to himself. "It's a shame I'm going to have to kill him when all this is over."

"You're not gonna touch him," I seethed. "How'd you find us?"

"Well after I missed my opportunity a few years ago, I realised I needed to up my game," he said. "But really, it was your mistake that lead me to finding you."

"What do you mean?" I asked, replaying my actions of the last few months to try and figure out where I'd slipped up.

"That little trip you took to Seattle?" he reminded me. I frowned. "You payed my nephew a visit." My blood ran cold as I stared back to him, my blood pressure picking up substantially.

"Your nephew?" I whispered. "Oh my god, you're Dylan's Uncle," I gasped. "You're-."

"The one who created you." He stepped forward and raised his head so that his face was illuminated by the moonlight that steamed through the holes in the ceiling. I could see the family resemblance. I could see Dylan in his features. It baffled me how someone so evil could be related to someone so caring and kind.

"How…?" It was all I could say. Of all the people I expected, he was certainly not one of them.

"I survived the fire," he said.

"But-but you're a hunter," I said. "Why would you want supernatural abilities?"

"Power, Alexia," he said darkly. "It's all about power."

"James said you wanted to create a new breed of hunters," I said as I backed up away from him. "He said you wanted to create hunters who were stronger. Faster. More skilled. He said you were doing it for your daughter."

"I lied!" he spat. "I wasn't trying to create a new breed of hunters. I was creating a new breed of me!"

"You're insane," I said, shaking my head at him.

"And it almost worked," he said. "I found a way to be able to absorb other people's power. When you were born, I was supposed to take yours. But then that idiot figured out what I was doing and didn't know how to keep his mouth shut."

"But you can't take power," I said. "You're not a Siphoner. You're a Scavenger," I spat. "You can only take parts. Not the whole thing. I saw it when you killed that alpha. His eyes stayed red. He didn't lose anything." He looked angered by what I'd said and a smirk pulled at the corners of my mouth. "You're nothing but a copycat." He lunged for me, but I stepped out of the way, pulling the syringe from my jeans where I'd been concealing it the whole time. "You come any closer and I'll inject myself with this."

"What is it?" he asked, smirking at me as if he didn't believe it was anything to be afraid of.

"It's a cure for my ability," I said, holding the needle close to my side threateningly. "It worked pretty well a few weeks ago with less than half. Imagine what damage it could do with the whole thing."

"You're bluffing," he said, shaking his head at me. "Where would you even get something like that?"

"It was a present from your friends, the Dread Doctors," I said. That caught his attention. He snarled at me, stepping forward to try and grab me and I stuck the needle into my side.

"Wait, stop!" he yelled, holding up his hands defensively. I didn't press the plunger, but kept the needle buried in my skin.

"Let Derek go and I might reconsider," I bargained.

"Sacrificing yourself for the werewolf?" he said with a snort. "Your parents would be so disappointed."

"I'm not the one who's killed countless numbers of innocent people!" I yelled back at him.

"Innocent?" He scoffed. "They were all animals. All supernatural creatures. I hunted every one of them with my bare hands." I shook my head, my eyes filling with tears.

"They weren't all supernatural," I said through gritted teeth as the image of Marty lying dead on my kitchen floor filled my mind. "You murdered an innocent girl." I was shaking. Shaking with anger. Shaking with grief. "You're a hunter, you're supposed to protect people like her from the supernatural. Not become it!"

"The blue haired girl was a means to an end," he said uncaringly. "You can't expect to get what you want in this world without some collateral damage."

"You've taken everything from me!" I yelled, pressing the needle further into my side. "My parents! My friends!" I shook my head, my finger braced on the plunger. "You're not taking him from me. Let Derek go." He hesitated and I forced the needle further inside of me. "Now!"

"Fine!" he yelled, his eyes remaining panicked until I'd removed the needle from my skin. He stepped back and I turned around, dropping to the ground beside my green-eyed wolf. He looked even worse, his skin so pale it was almost white.

"Come on, you need to get out of here," I said, placing the syringe on the floor so I could use both hands to help him up.

"No." He shook his head, his breathing laboured as he refused to stand. "I'm not leaving you, Alex. Not with him." I shook my head, tears forming in my eyes.

"It's okay," I assured him, my eyes glancing to the syringe that lay beside me. "I have a plan. He's not gonna get my ability." He frowned at me, his glazed eyes growing concerned.

"What are you gonna do?" he asked worriedly, his words mimicking what Stiles had asked before I'd left. His hand was squeezing mine so tightly but I couldn't meet his eyes as I replied.

"What I have to do," I told him. His frown deepened and I ran my fingers through his raven hair, savouring every inch of him. It would be the last chance I ever had. "I love you so much," I whispered, tears rolling down my face.

"Alex," he breathed, his lips twitching up in a small smile as he comforted me. "I'm sorry." I didn't see his fingers curl around the syringe, but I did hear the shattering of glass that followed as he smashed the syringe against the ground, the contents spilling out onto the concrete.

"No, no, no," I repeated as I stared at the liquid. Panic ran through my veins as my breathing rate doubled. "No, Derek. Why'd you do that? That was the only thing stopping him from killing you." My cheeks were stained with tears and I let them fall. He brought a hand up to my face to wipe them away.

"And it was the only thing stopping you from making it out of here alive," he told me. "I don't care about anything else," he whispered, pulling me towards him and pressing his lips to my forehead as I squeezed my eyes shut, stifling a sob. "You have to survive."

"But if he gets my ability, there's no stopping him," I said. I needed help. Stiles was right. I couldn't do it alone. Derek was going to die and it was all my fault. If I wasn't so stubborn, I might've been able to save him.

"You can stop him," he said sincerely. "I know you can. You're the strongest person I've ever met."

"Enough with the games," a voice said behind me before I was yanked backwards by my hair away from the man I loved. "You've lost your leverage," he whispered darkly as he pressed his lips to my ear. "Now I want what's mine." He threw me down on the ground and I watched in horror as fangs grew from his jaw and talons protruded from his fingertips. His eyes glowed a fiery red as he stared down at me. I back up as he advanced forward, trying to get away from him. He grabbed my hair again and yanked me up so I was standing before squeezing up throat with one of his hands.

I screamed as I felt his claws dig into my neck, the pain along with the blocked windpipe causing my eyes to water even more than they already were. I had to fight for as long as possible. I couldn't let him get my ability. He threw me down again and this time I slip across the concrete, my head smacking against the wall. I felt my skull crack and my vision blur, blood dripping down my forehead. A moment later, the pain was gone and I got back up again, running towards him and landing my own punch to his ribs.

He fell backwards, my new-found strength able to match his somewhat. I went to punch him again, but he caught my wrist and twisted my arm around until I heard it snap. The pain caused me to scream again. I was pretty sure my wrist was broken, along with a dislocated shoulder. I held my arm to my chest as I felt the bones in my hand repair themselves before I pulled sharply on it to pop the shoulder back into its socket.

"I must say, your ability is remarkable," he told me as I prepared myself to fight him again. "But you forget that I don't just have the abilities of a werewolf." I gasped as his fangs grew and elongated into knifelike teeth that were razor sharp. "I am a wendigo, a coyote, a kitsune and so many more." He lunged for me, his claws tearing through my flesh and leaving deep wounds across my stomach. They stung and I realised they must contain some kind of venom that meant they took longer to heal. Even so, as I regained my balance, I could feel the skin knitting itself back together.

"Give it to me, Alexia," he coaxed, stabbing me with his claws again.

"No!" I yelled back. His claws dug deeper and I cried out in pain. I could hear Derek trying to talk to me but he seemed far away. All I could focus on was the feeling of his sharp talons tearing into my peritoneal cavity.

"Give it to me!" I whimpered, shoving him away from me with all the strength I could muster. He stumbled back several metres and I regained my composure.

Suddenly I heard a gunshot and I ducked down just as Argent appeared at the concrete steps. I stared at him, suddenly concerned for his safety in the presence of the Scavenger who could easily rip him to shreds. He unloaded a clip into him, but it didn't slow him down as he approached the hunter.

"Chris Argent," he greeted like they were old friends, which, I supposed, they were. "It's been a long time."

"Too long," Argent replied, jamming the butt of his shotgun into the Scavenger's head before he was thrown to the ground. I gasped, watching as the hunter's body slammed against the wall and crumpled to the ground.

Then there was a deep growl and I turned back to the dilapidated stairwell to see none other than Scott and Malia running forwards to attack. I spark of hope ignited in my chest, only to me extinguished when the coyote received a large gash in her leg and fell to the floor. I ran to help her up and pulled her away from where Scott and the Scavenger were fighting.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her frantically, terrified of what might happen.

"You didn't seriously think we'd let you take on this psycho alone, did you?" she asked and I smiled at her before turning back to the action, her eyes turning blue. Scott was putting up a good fight but eventually was thrown down as well after the Scavenger broke his leg. I winced at the sound of it cracking before Malia and I tied to fight him again. But he was too strong. It was like fighting a hundred supernatural creatures all at once. He was too quick. Too agile. His claws were too sharp. After a few minutes, he'd tossed Malia aside like a rag doll, her body falling lips next to Scott.

"Any more of your little friends want to give it a try?" he asked as he turned towards me. I was frozen, catching sight of one more person standing right behind the Scavenger. I winced as Stiles swung his baseball bat at his head, the Scavenger barely flinching.

"Holy crap," Stiles said, his eyes wide as a hand wrapped around his throat and lifted him off the ground.

"Stop!" I yelled as the teen gasped for air. "Please, stop!"

"Are you going to give me what I want?" I didn't know how to answer as he turned to face me, his fingers tightening around Stiles' throat before he threw him to the ground. He coughed and panted as he tried to catch his breath. "Or are you going to watch your friends die one by one."

"Okay," I said, nodding my head. "I'll give it to you. I'll give you whatever you want. Just let them go." He smiled at me evilly as he stepped forward.

"No, Alex," I heard Scott say but I didn't listen. I had to save them. I couldn't let any more people die. I knew what he had to do to get my ability and I knew it would hurt. I'd seen him do it before.

"Thank you," he whispered once we were face to face before he buried his hand in my chest. I gasped, the pain worse than anything I'd experienced before. I could feel each rib as it snapped before his hand grabbed onto my heart. I dropped to my knees, unable to breath as I felt a strange buzzing sensation erupt inside my chest cavity. It grew in intensity and I looked down to see a soft glow travelling from inside my chest up the Scavenger's arm. He released me and I collapsed to the ground, utterly exhausted. He didn't seem to notice as I sat up, pressing a hand to my chest to see that it had already begun to heal, although my shirt was coated in a thick layer of blood. I looked up at him to see he was staring at his hand, the light slowly moving towards his shoulder and down to his chest. I could see the power in his eyes and the strength he felt from gaining my ability.

I looked around the room to see that everyone was staring at him in same way I was. We were all transfixed on the sight. It was like nothing they'd ever seen before. I caught Stiles eye and he sent me a look. I frowned at him until he pulled out something from inside his jacket. My eyes widened as he nodded towards the Scavenger before sliding the item along the concrete towards me.

I stood up just as the light reached his chest and faded away, the knife clasped tightly in my fist. He was completely in awe of what he had just gained and was buzzing with power.

"Come with me," he said, his deranged eyes elated and completely serious. "Think of what we could accomplish together. We'd be invincible." I stared back at him, completely surprised by his offer. "We could teach each other so much." He held out a hand to me and I took it.

"You wanna know what I've learnt from my twenty years of immortality?" I questioned, pulling him in towards me so that my lips were centre meters from his ear. "No one's really immortal." I pulled back, taking him by surprise as I jammed the knife into the base of his skull. He gave a sickening gargle before his body went limp and he fell to the ground.

I stared at him on the ground, his eyes glazed. Dead. He wasn't entirely, but as long as that knife stayed in, he wouldn't wake up. I couldn't stop myself as I fell to my knees in front of him, feeling like the greatest weight had been lifted off my shoulders. My eyes filled with tears that I didn't understand. He was the man who created me. He was the man who destroyed so many things I cared about.

It was over.

I couldn't believe it. I'd come into the fight fully expecting not to make it out. But I was okay. My friends were okay. I turned around, not finding the strength to be able to stand as I crawled towards Derek. He'd grown even weaker and I squeezed his hand.

"Hey," I whispered, pulling his arm around my waist as I pressed into his side. He smiled weakly at me and despite the black blood that had gathered at his lips, I kissed him gently, my hands on his cheeks as I pressed my forehead to his. "You need help," I said, pulling his arm over my shoulder as I stood up, pulling him with me. I realised then that I'd lost my strength, though my healed chest still meant that I had my ability. He faltered a little as I helped him to his feet and Scott emerged on his other side to help me.

"Scott," Derek greeted weekly. The teen wolf smiled at the sound of the older wolf's voice, indicating that he wasn't about to pass out.

"I got him," Scott told me as I felt Derek's weight shift from my shoulder. "Deaton should be here by now." I didn't let go of his waist until Scott sent me a look, telling me he'd make sure Derek was okay. I didn't want to leave his side, but I trusted the teen beyond question and reluctantly let go of his hand.

I looked up, catching sight of Argent, Stiles and Malia who were all gathered around the body on the ground, staring at him. He looked dead, but I knew if we were to remove the blade from is neck he'd come back straight away.

"What do we do with him?" Stiles asked as we all stared.

"I can take care of it," Argent said. I cast a look over the two humans for any sign of serious injury and relaxed when I saw none. Malia didn't seem to be badly hurt either. "We should get out of here before the whole place comes down." I nodded, heading towards the stairwell.

"Hey Stiles," I called to him. He looked up, catching my apologetic gaze. "I don't-."

"Don't worry about it," he cut me off. I felt guilty for what I'd done to him. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to make it up. "I get it." His words were sincere and my internal panic subsided, although the event of the evening still meant my nerves were severely wracked.

"Stiles?" The teen turned towards me. I smirk at him, pulling his keys from my pocket and tossing them in his direction and he caught them with a smile.

I was surprised to see Lydia outside when we made it out into the cold night air. She hugged me tightly and I found I couldn't hold back my tears. She seemed to squeeze them out of me and then spend the next few moments chastising me for not wearing waterproof mascara as she wiped the black streaks from my cheeks.

The Sheriff was there too, though didn't seem as pissed off as I'd expected. He spent most of the time conversing with Argent regarding removing the body from the derelict building, but I did catch his eyes at one point and he sent me reassuring smile.

Deaton couldn't identify the wolf's bane that the Scavenger had used on Derek. He had to burn it out of him using a blow torch. It was hard to watch as Derek writhed in pain in the backseat of Argent's car, but I stayed with him, holding his hand the entire time and running a hand through his hair. He seemed healthy afterwards but Deaton told him he would need to rest for a few days. I would make sure he did.

I left him sleeping across the back seat as I slid out of the car, meeting the group of teenagers beside Stiles' jeep. Kira wasn't there and I knew from Stiles that she'd gone back with the Skin walkers after they'd helped defeat Theo and the beast. Scott noticed me first and wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug. I laughed into his chest, suddenly feeling incredibly emotional about the night's events. They'd come. They'd risked their lives to help me. They'd helped sort out a mess that was completely mine. I felt someone else wrap their arms around my shoulders and before I knew it, all four of them were enveloping me and a hug.

"Can't breathe," I squeaked out, but they held on for another moment before letting go. I couldn't believe the difference from when I'd first arrived in Beacon Hills all those months ago. I'd gone from being a person none of them trusted to a person they'd risk their lives to help. More importantly, they'd become people I could trust, when before, I'd never trusted anyone other than myself. The change I felt within me was hard to explain, but I did feel different. Definitely different. And it was in a good way.

"Let's go home," Stiles said as he released a gigantic yawn. It was understandable. They'd all been up for a ludicrous number of hours. They all said goodbye as they climbed into the jeep and I assured them I'd see them all when we arrived back in Beacon Hills. I smiled at Stiles' words, and as I clambered into the backseat of Argent's car beside my exhausted green-eyed wolf, surrounded by my friends, the man I loved and everyone I considered family, I realised I already was home.

AN: So that's the end! Just wanted to say a massive thanks to everyone who's read/followed/favourited/reviewed this story and also Deadpool! Hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing :)

Would love to hear any thoughts you guys have on this chapter and the story as a whole :)

Also, like in Deadpool, there's gonna be a epilogue so actually its not quite the end... but this might not be up for a few weeks so be on the look out.

Anyways, let me know what you thought, much love x