This chapter was one of my favorites to write. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 37

"Move your ass!" Cora shouted up the stairs.

Isaac groaned unhappily, refusing to let go of Melanie. They laid comfortably in his bed, his arm around her lower stomach as his head rested on her chest.

"Coming!" she called back and looked down at him pointedly.

"I'm not letting go," he said, keeping his sleepy eyes closed while wiggling his eyebrows.

Melanie swiveled around and kissed him softly on the lips. She lingered there, enjoying the softness and slowness of it. She ran her fingers through his morning mess of hair down along his jaw line.

"I'll see you later. If I don't go now, I'm going to get hell from the sheriff," she mumbled.

"You're afraid of the sheriff?"

"No, but I get less hassle from him if I'm on his good side."

"Fine," he grumbled and let go.

She ran to her room and grabbed her brown flip-flops then bounced back into his room and kissed him once more, letting her fingers brush over his chest. Then she dashed down the stairs and grabbed her bookbag. The front door shut and the two girls got into the shiny black Camaro. Gravel flew up as they pulled out of the drive and drove off.

"This is a bad idea, never mind." Cora said. She tapped her fingers on her thigh and looked out the window as they pulled out of the drive.

"Too late. We're going," Melanie said, tapping her thumbs on the steering wheel.

She glanced over at the werewolf and saw her breathe in shakily.

"It'll be okay."

It wasn't okay. It was awkward as hell.

Like usual, Melanie walked into the house without knocking. Cora stood at the doorway and stared into the house. Realizing that she didn't follow, Melanie grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in then closed the front door.

"Mel, you're late!" Stiles called as he bounded down the stairs.

He froze once he reached the bottom and stared blankly at Cora. She looked away quickly and down at her shoes.

"I'm sorry," Melanie said. "I had a delay. Was waiting for somebody."

"Melanie!" sheriff Stilinski called from the kitchen.

Melanie could hear the crackle of bacon and smell the sweet syrup being warmed. Her stomach grumbled hungrily. Too much 'exercise' made her hungry.

"What!?" she hollered with the same amount of volume. She giggled and walked toward the kitchen, setting her bookbag on the nearby comfy chair as she did.

Stiles stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his feet. Neither he nor Cora spoke.

Melanie called them a few minutes later and they both went into the dining area, keeping a distance from one another. They sat across from each other. The table was laid out with French toast, scrambled eggs. That's the only kind Melanie would eat, there was and bacon and sausage. She put extra if everything on her plate. The sheriff eyes her curiously while Stiles and Cora remained to themselves.

"You're quiet," Sheriff Stilinski said, taking a bite from his eggs as he eyed his son. "You're never quiet. What's wrong?"

Melanie looked over at Cora who pushed her piece of sausage back and forth on her plate.

"Nothing," Stiles replied

Under the table, he kicked Melanie in the shin. She stifled a squeak from the kick and stabbed a piece of sausage, resisting the urge to punch him in the side of his neck.

"I uh, was just thinking about—"

"Do not tell me you're thinking about the darach?" Melanie whined.

"You're not?"

"Nope, I figured out something." Melanie said confidently.

Everybody at the table paused mid chew and stared at her. Cora dropped her fork.

"It's somebody at school," she said.

"What makes you say that," Stiles asked.

"Mr. Harris, Mr. Westover, the band teacher, Tara? School… even the kids." Melanie said. "They're all connected to the school system."

"Okay…" Stiles said. "It could be anyone though."

"But we're closer to figuring out who. Think about it."

"I am going to hate going to school today." Stiles mumbled. "Hey Dad—"

"No. You're going to school," the sheriff cut him off.

Stiles slumped in his seat and finished his breakfast.

"How'd you figure this out?" sheriff Stilinski asked.

"I was going through all the evidence and I couldn't figure why these specific people were chosen. It wasn't just matter of why but how. The darach is at the school. I don't know who it is, but I'm going to figure it out."

"Does Derek know all of this?"

"Yeah, I called him this morning. He said to see what else I can find out. He and Deaton are looking for Chris. He hasn't shown up in four days." Melanie said.

"I'll put out and APB."

"I wouldn't," she said. He gave her a questioning look. "If something's happened to him, something out of the ordinary, do you really want to alert the entire town?"

Sheriff Stilinski sighed heavily. He wanted to help. It was discomforting that teenagers were doing his job. There was something disturbing about grounding his son for sneaking out to a crime scene rather than him sneaking out to a party. Melanie looked at the others with a confident smirk. They all shared the look of a boosted morale.

"If you want to join them, they'd probably like the help. You might know of a few things that might seem out of the ordinary that could relate to the disappearance." Melanie suggested.

The sheriff nodded.

"Why don't you kids get off to school," He said, his disheartened tone unchanging.

Melanie set her fork down quietly and pushed her chair back from the table. Stiles and Cora followed.

"I'll drop you off by the loft? You can help Derek?" Melanie asked her.

"He's out doing god knows what. I swear he's losing it. He wants me to stay at the loft in case he calls." She said.

Melanie nodded. Stiles didn't speak. He grabbed his bookbag and left, not bothering to wait for the girls. The awkwardness only increased. Melanie offered a smile that faded into a grimace filled shrug. The sheriff moved around them, grabbing his deep green jacket. Cora stormed out to the Camaro and got in, slamming the door shut. The sheriff paused with a look of confusion.

"Don't ask," Melanie said plainly as she walked out of the house.

He shook his head, raising his hands.

"That was terrible. I hate you," Cora spat as Melanie got in the car.

"That's fine. I didn't make it awkward. You guys did and you're lucky that the sheriff bought Stiles's little excuse about why he ran away," Melanie stated as she drove her to the loft.

After dropping her off, she headed to the school. The parking lot was empty, but kids were still bustling to class when she got inside the building. The late bell rang when she made it to her locker. She rolled her eyes, annoyed.

"Rouxe, to class, now!" Finstock yelled.

"I'm going!" she yelled back.

He glared at her as she hustled past him into the classroom. Macroeconomics went as well as could be expected. It was dull and sleepworthy.

"You look…" Danny paused, searching for the right word.

"Just. Be. Quiet." Melanie told him, a warning glare shadowing her eyes. "I don't want to talk about what I look like."

"Careful, Mel. You're smiling," Danny chuckled then poked her with his pencil.

She snatched the implement and threw it at him playfully. He caught it against his chest. Finstock ignored the two though a few others turned to look at them, disturbed. Melanie ignored their looks. What did it matter to them that she was smiling? It had been a long time since her lips ached from smiling so much. Since Laura actually.

In Biology, Melanie focused on the board as Ms. Martin went over the aortic valves on the white projection screen. Isaac had his hand on her knee. It crept slowly up her thigh. She bit her lower lip and crossed her legs, stopping him from going too far.

Nobody noticed him lurch. She was thankful for her ability to keep her calm. Laura always said a poker face was the best face. the best face was a smug bitch one. It made playing with Isaac all the more fun, though he was giving her a run for her money. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a cocky grin play on his lips.

The rest of the day played out similarly to this. He continued to toy with her, and she remained poised and unfazed. Math was quite interesting though and Lydia thought so too. Cora bursted into the classroom angrily, stunning everyone with her beauty and fierceness. The piercing intimidation made a few squirm in their desks. She looked straight at Stiles and pointed toward the door. He didn't budge. He just stared wide eyed and terrified. Cora huffed and walked down the aisle, all eyes following her. She grabbed him roughly by his shirt and kissed him hard.

"Well, this seems like it's straight out of a movie," Melanie muttered.

Pulling out of the kiss, Cora stared at him for a second, her cool exterior melted, then walked out of the room. Everyone looked at Stiles now, even the teacher. He sat there trying to breathe, blinking rapidly.

He raced out of the room after her. His books fell from his desk in the hurry. Melanie smirked.

"You go girl," she muttered, tapping her end of her pen on her notebook.

"Where were we," The teacher said, baffled.

Lydia stared at Melanie curiously. Melanie shrugged, grinning. Derek was going to be pissed that his baby sister was focused on somebody he disliked, a lot.

Scott didn't show up at school. His mom had knocked on his bedroom door several times, but he didn't reply. After a few words, trying to coax him out of there, she left for her night shift. He sat against his door and stared at his room. Chris was missing. Tara was the latest victim. They weren't getting anywhere with finding out who was doing all of this or why for that matter.

Scott tightened his fingers in his hair, frustrated. He was losing hope. There was only so much he could do. His legs sat crossed in front of him. The sun was going down, taking the light out of the room. Darkness slowly engulfed him. His phone buzzed multiple times. He had shut it off after a little while.

He more he thought about it the more anxiety made his heart pulse irregularly like it was going break through his ribcage. None of this was supposed to happen. People he'd known all his life were finding their places in the cemetery. They were supposed to be enjoying and hating high school, wondering if they did the homework right, not wondering if they were even going to make it to graduation. Escaping this small town for bigger adventures was meant to be real. Werewolves, kanimas, darachs and banshees weren't.

Outside the house, on the sidewalk, three shadowy figures stood across the street and looked up at his bedroom window.

"Are you sure about this?" the one on the far left said, turning to the one in the center.

Her voice shook nervously. Her hands were tightened into fists in her hoodie pockets.

"Yes," the one on the far right said. His voice was soft and filled with concern.

"This is a bad plan. He's going to be pissed," the one on the far left said again.

"Do it," the one on the far right said to the one in the middle.

The one in the middle, who was taller and bulkier than both of them, looked at both of them then up at the window with neon green glowing eyes. Vein-like lines spilled over his face. A mist blew out of his mouth in a single breath and swirled up through the crack of Scott's window.

"It is done."

"Now we wait." The one on the far right said.

"Again, because I like to think I'm the smart one, this is a bad plan."

"Melanie, be quiet."

Melanie glared at both of them and crossed her arms over her chest.

Back in Scott's bedroom, Scott felt dizzy and tired. His limbs grew tingly and numb. Grabbing the doorknob above him, he used it to stand. His arm shook as he used all his strength to do so. He leaned on the door and looked at his bed. If he could just get there, everything would be fine.

He took one step. A heavy weight pressed down on him. Taking another, his legs gave out and he fell to the floor and laid there motionless, his breathing slow and steady. The invisible weight wasn't heavy on him, but made him feel as if there was a presence.

Scott's eyes slid closed.

"Scott! Wake up! You're going to be late for school!"

Scott sat up groggily. The digital clock by his head read seven-forty-five. His eyes shot open. I'm late, he thought.

He shuffled out of bed, his sheets following him a few steps to the closet. After getting dressed, he hurried downstairs.

"I'm working a late shift tonight, so I'll need you to pick me up," his mom said.

"Yeah, sure," Scott said as he rushed out the door.

He paused at not seeing his dirt bike parked in its usual spot by the car. Instead, his old bike laid on its side in the yard. He looked down at his phone. Seven-fifty-six.

"Damn it," he spat.

He grabbed his bike and took off.

Scott's t-shirt was soaked through in sweat by the time he got to school. His chest burned, each breath making his vision go jagged. It was strange because that only happened when he was about to have an asthma attack. He held his chest with one hand and searched his bookbag. In the very front pocket he found his inhaler. He pressed the metal tube down into the plastic device, inhaling deep for a breath of life. His heart steadied and the burning faded. He stared at the device confused. He hadn't had to use it for the last two years.

He put in his pocket then put his bike on the bike rack. A few people snickered at him as they passed by. He looked around, searching for Stiles. The powdered blue jeep wasn't sticking out like its usual odd thumb. It was nowhere in the parking lot. Melanie's sleek Camaro was instantly recognizable in its intimidating glory as it entered the lot, though. The people who got out of it weren't Melanie and Isaac like he expected.

It was Stiles and Seth. This wasn't possible. Scott couldn't take his eyes from Seth, his chest burning again, but with panic this time. He'd heard enough about Seth to know what he looked like and to know what happened to him. He and Stiles were laughing, joking with one another. Seth wrapped his muscular arm around Stiles's neck, jostling him like they were best friends. Scott's jaw slackened. Stiles wasn't wearing his usual attire. He looked like the ultimate bad guy. He wore a tight fitting, black v-neck with dark was jeans and black combat boots. Even his walk was different, more confident. Seth wore a black wife-beater and light, distressed jeans.

"Stiles!" Scott called out.

Both boys looked at Scott, pausing for a moment, bearing an ingrained scowl. Scott shrank away from them. Something was seriously wrong with this. Why are you hanging with a killer, Scott wondered.

The boys walked inside without a single word to Scott. A group of sophomores followed them inside, dazed and lustful. Scott went inside and tried to blend in with other students as he went to his locker. Stiles and Seth ignored his existence as he passed them. A senior girl, Dreama, leaned against the lockers next to Stiles. She trailed her index fingers down his muscular bicep, biting her lower lip seductively. Scott observed Stiles closely. It wasn't just a confidence and a lack of memory that Stiles seeminngly had, but he gained refined muscle too almost as if…

"No," Scott breathed. His blood boiled as his anger turned cold, surging throughout him. He looked down at his fingers, but no claws extended. He flipped his hands over then back. They were normal. He looked back up at his best friend. "How are you a werewolf, and I'm not?"

Scott searched the school for the others. They had to have some idea about this weirdness. Melanie and Isaac were nowhere to be found. Lydia wasn't either.

When lunchtime came around Scott went to Stiles's table. There was a high probability that he was going to get seriously killed by doing it too. Stiles had already beaten up some freshman today.

Scott stopped a few feet in front of the table. Stiles stopped mid-bite of an apple.

"What do you want?" Stiles spat harshly.

"You know this geek?" Seth asked.

"We used to be friends."

"Ahhhh, right. Uhhhh, what's your name?" Seth asked wryly.

"Scott," Scott replied. He looked at Stiles. "What's wrong with you? How did this happen? Where's Melanie? Isaac? I haven't seen anybody all day. What is going on?"

Scott's voice rose in panic. He could feel another asthma attack coming on. Stiles leaned forward and pushed his tray away. A dark shadowy glare formed as Scott's level of freaking out rose.

A firm grip on Scott's shoulder quieted him. He turned his head as saw Allison, her face stone cold toward Stiles. It was the look she gave her enemy, one with a death warrant. Stiles smiled suddenly, his eyes lighting up.

"Hello, baby doll. How's your boyfriend?" Stiles said sarcastically. The taunt wasn't lost in translation.

"Torturing more people Stiles? How low of you."

"Well, I have to do something to pass the time," he replied. Seth grinned toothily, slouching back in his seat.

Scott looked from her to Stiles and back. Neither of them had ever gotten into a fight. Allison pulled Scott back and stepped in front of him protectively.

"You're lucky I don't kill you where you sit," she said low.

"You're lucky that I don't sneak in through your bedroom window and rip your throat with my teeth while you sleep because I would hate it, really, it'd break my heart, if you ended up like your father," Stiles rebutted, holding his chest as if his heart shattered into an oblivion.

The two remained silent for a moment longer. Then Allison led Scott away from the table and out of the cafeteria.

"Thank god," Scott said. "I have no idea what's happening. Stiles is a werewolf! When did this happen!? And Melanie! Where is Melanie? Isaac? What about Danny and Lydia."

"Shut up, you moron!" Allison snarled. She shoved him hard. "What is wrong with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Everybody knows that you don't mess with Stiles and Seth! And what the hell about this Melanie!?"

"She's one of my friends. Isn't she yours?" Scott asked, his voice trembling.

"I don't know a Melanie." Allison said.

"What?" Scott's face twisted with more confusion.

He leaned back against the wall. His vision blurred as tears formed and streaked his cheeks. None of this was right. His head ached with a dull throb like an ugly tequila hangover.

"There's somebody I think you need to talk to." Allison said. The fury in her voice vanished. She gave him a nod down the hall. "C'mon."

Scott noticed differences in Allison too. She wore black leather skinny jeans with a matching jacket and a loose white t-shirt. Nothing about her was feminine. Not even her ponytail that had the curls straightened out, stopping at her lower back. Her car was still the same at least.

The drive was quiet. Allison glanced over at him a few times until he eventually said, "What?"

"You're in my history class right?" she asked.

"Probably," he muttered. He didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore. Whatever world he'd entered was seriously fucked up.

They got to Derek's loft and it all seemed fairly recognizable so far. Derek had his SUV. Scott followed Allison up the elevator.

"Derek," Allison called. "Hey, I'm home."

Scott's eyebrows furrowed at her choice of words. Home? He glanced around. The loft wasn't as barren as usual. There were various pieces of furniture scattered about; a couch with two matching comfy chairs, a mirror, curtains on the windows. Allison's crossbow and tech bow were visible in an open locker nearby. She lived here? Scott shook his head. He couldn't believe it. Why would they live together? They didn't even like one another…unless they were…no. They weren't together. That was impossible.

Derek walked out of one of the side rooms. Scott let out a shaky breath at the sight of him. Large scars adorned his skin; over his arms, chest. His cheek bore two large scars. He looked like he'd gone to battle.

"Who is this?" he asked, pointing at Scott.

Scott took a step back seeing him tense up.

"He's—"

"Where's Melanie and Isaac? I haven't seen them all day and Stiles was bitten by a werewolf." Scott blurted out over her.

Derek scowled at him then at Allison.

"How do you know about Melanie?" Derek asked. His fists clenched tightly. "I haven't told anybody about her."

"She's one of my friends. We're all friends. None of you seem to remember that. Nothing here is right," Scott said. He looked at Allison hopefully. Why didn't they believe him?

"Impossible." Derek said. "Get him out of here. He's probably some patient from Eichen House."

"I'm not crazy!" Scott shouted. "We're friends! I'm a werewolf! You helped me! And Melanie? You two are like family."

"Shut up!" Derek bellowed. The loft shook. Allison gulped uneasily. She looked at Scott, imploring him to quit.

"Derek, I'm not crazy." Scott said again.

"Go to Beacon Hills Cemetery," Derek instructed, lowering his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just go."

Scott stood there for several moments. His feet felt glued to the floor. Allison nodded for him to leave. He wasn't sure if it was for his protection against Derek or if she also wanted him to go. He turned and went the way he came, but stopped at the loft door, his mouth open to apologize. The words didn't make it out though as he saw Allison put her arms around Derek's neck and her head tilted up at him. The coldness in her face had melted. She stared him with relief and love. The same way she used to look at him. Derek touched his forehead to hers.

Scott's stomach churned. He left quickly before having to see them kiss.

"I don't think he's crazy, Derek," she whispered to him. "I've gone to school with him for a while. He blends into the background. Nobody notices him. And today, he broke. It was like something struck him."

Derek let out a heavy sigh.

After picking up his mom after her shift, Scott drove to the cemetery. Scott went over what happened at the loft in his head again. Allison and Derek were together, actually together. And the way Derek had gotten so angry at him; it wasn't unusual to see him angry, but he was more hurt than furious. He had looked at Scott as if he might've started crying.

Scott walked through the cemetery. He wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for but hoping that finding her here and piece all of this together. He searched over dozens rows of tombstones. His breath grew frosty. There was a young woman with her two year old visiting a grave but that was it. No Melanie.

Scott stopped dead at the back of the cemetery. His flashlight shown on a tombstone. There was no special decoration on it. Just a name and date.

Melanie Rouxe

1995-2011

Scott fell to his knees, staining his jeans with grass and dirt.

"No," he croaked. He looked at the ones beside hers. Danny, Cora and Laura too. Unblinkingly, tears fell down his cheeks. This was all wrong. She wasn't dead, and Danny definitely wasn't dead.

"I don't understand," he sobbed.

"Now," Lydia shuddered at the seductively deceiving voice. "I have given you multiple chances. I even killed your best friends first. What more do you want? You have nowhere to go back to. Just tell me where my nephew is and join me, princess."

Peter looked down at a badly beaten Isaac. His hands were tied behind his back with rusted chains that bit into his skin. His shirt was torn in several places from where claws had dug into his skin. Blood spattered his clothing.

"Go fuck yourself," Isaac spat.

"Shame," Peter said sullenly. His hands were clasped behind his back as he stood in front of the teenager. His claws elongated and his eyes glowed a dangerous red.

"Lydia, look away. Close your eyes," Isaac said, his voice hoarse. His heart pounded hard against his chest.

"Isaac," she cried.

"Look away!" he shouted. There was no way he was letting her see this happen to yet another friend.

Peter smirked.

"You know what's going to happen, don't you, vixen?" he asked cynically.

Lydia shut her eyes tightly. Her lips parted involuntarily and a high pitched scream erupted from deep down. Isaac looked up at the alpha.

"Just like Boyd and Jackson and my niece, Cora. Useless. This is actually sad for me. I liked you." Peter said. His face transformed and he reached down and picked Isaac up by the throat ruthlessly.

He thrust his arm through the teenager's chest and pulled out his heart like plucking an apple fresh from its branch. He looked down at the organ as it beat it last beats.

"It's tragic. You have such a…beautiful heart. Too bad nobody loved it." Peter said, watching the light fade out of Isaac's eyes. Blood pooled from his mouth down his chin.

Peter dropped the dead boy and looked at Lydia.

"And you," he growled, throwing the heart at her. "You're only alive because you can tell me death."

The doors banged opened and Stiles strolled in. Erica and Seth followed in behind him. Peter smiled at them happily, like a father happy to see his kids home from school.

"I'm glad you're here," Peter glanced down at the body then back at them. "We're going out tonight."

Seth's eyebrows rose and a malicious grin spread across the face of the rabid dog. Erica looked over at Stiles with a look of intrigue. Stiles wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

"Really?" he said curiously. "What for?"

"It's a full moon," Peter replied stoically. "I don't like being cooped up."

Scott sat on the porch steps after getting back from the hospital. He wasn't ready to go inside. His mom came rushing out in her scrubs.

"I have to go to the hospital. There was a mass animal attack at the school tonight," she said as she ran to the car.

"Mom!" Scott yelled. His chest tightened. "It's not a good idea. What if you get attacked?"

"I'll be fine. Can I have the car keys?" she said.

He stood and handed them over begrudgingly. She got into the car and sped off. Scott looked up and down the road. It seemed darker than usual. The street light at the end of the street blinked a few times. Scott went inside and locked the door.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs. A pair of feet in combat boots stuck out in the living room. He went in cautiously. Allison sat on the chair in the corner, picking at her nails with a knife. She looked up at then closed the blade and stuck it in her boot.

"You saw it didn't you?" she asked.

"I don't understand," he said.

"Neither do I. Derek has never told me about Melanie, but you seem to know a lot about it. I don't think you're lying. What is it you think you know?" she asked.

"I know that Stiles isn't a werewolf. Melanie and Danny are alive and well. So is Cora. You're not some dominatrix hunter." He said. Allison snorted at the comment about her.

"What am I?" She laughed. For a moment she sounded like herself.

"You embrace being girly. You're Lydia's best friend, and you're strong and agile. You're not emotionless," he said. "I'm the one who's a werewolf and Seth? We killed that son of bitch…well, Derek did before Seth could…"

Scott trailed off. Seth was killed before he could kill Melanie, but he wasn't killed this time.

"Seth killed her," Scott said quietly.

"No," Allison said, shaking her head. "Peter killed her. She'd come to Beacon Hills looking for Laura and Peter killed both of them. That's all Derek told me. He wouldn't say anything about how they knew each other or anything."

"That was the night that he bit me," Scott said then. "But, he didn't bite me, did he? He bit Stiles instead."

Scott sat down on the couch. His head fell into his hands.

"There's no way that this happened just because Stiles was bit instead of me. Stiles wouldn't betray me like that. He wouldn't." Scott's voice cracked. He honestly wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"Peter has a way of warping people's minds. Look at Derek for example. He's taken everything from him," Allison said. "Stiles didn't give into it at first, but Peter convinced him that he could help him control it and give him the family he couldn't get from his father. The sheriff turned into the town drunk because he lost his son on top of losing his wife."

"I just want to wake up from this nightmare," Scott grumbled. He hiccupped.

None of this was supposed to happen. More than anything Scott wished he was still a werewolf. Everybody seemed hopeless.

"Scott," Allison said, snapping him from his inner turmoil. "Can you help us?"

"With what? I don't have any power," he said. Saying it was stupid though. Having no power never stopped Stiles or Melanie. They still fought. "Hold on."

Scott ran upstairs to his mom's room and grabbed the bat she still kept beside her bed then ran back downstairs. He looked at her and nodded, clutching the bat for dear life.

Allison stared at the bat skeptically then stood.

"It's a full moon tonight. I'm afraid that Derek won't survive the night." She said.

"You love him, don't you," Scott dared ask.

Allison looked away from him, sinking deep into thought and feeling then let out a short, quiet laugh.

"My father hated him, but when he died he knew that Derek and I had been seeing each other. He knew Derek made me stronger. I don't think he fully understood how it was possible that we loved one another, but he told Derek to protect me and vice versa. We've been through so much and I don't even know if it's worth it, but yes, I love him. I'd die for him." she replied.

The words skewered Scott. Love. She used to love him. As a matter of fact, he thought it was him Allison was starting to fall for again. Conversation had been easier between them. They were even hanging out just them. He'd been thinking about asking her out to dinner, but was nervous. Now she was in love with Derek.

"I'll help any way I can," Scott said.

Allison nodded and stood.

"We should go then," she said quietly.

Scott followed Allison out to her car. She stopped before getting in the car and looked at him as if trying to figure him out.

"You really believe that it was you huh?" she asked.

"I know it was," he replied, knowing that she was regarding him as a werewolf.

"The thing is," she started then paused. "I'm trusting you and I don't trust people. I stopped trusting people after Erica betrayed us for Stiles. She got my friends kidnapped and killed. For all I know you could've had a psychotic break. Your story though, is very detailed and you truly believe it. You make me want to believe it. Your world sounds so much better than this one."

Scott didn't say anything. Like so many times before, Allison had left him speechless, but this time it was different. The way she'd left him speechless wasn't because she blew him away with something cute. It was because she was so exhausted and nearly as broken as Derek.

She thought his world could've been better. He was believing it himself. So many bad things had happened, but this place was worse. It was dark and scary and foreign. This town didn't look anything like his home.

Allison got in the car and they drove back to the loft. It was dark when the exited the elevator and stepped into the loft. The air was still. Moonlight lit the wide room dimly. Scott's gut twisted.

"Argent."

Allison pointed her mini crossbow in the direction of the voice, her eyes squinting to see in the dark.

A broad, shadowy figured stepped into the pale light. Peter.

He was taller and stronger looking. His eyes glowed in their direction as his arms crossed over his chest. Scott gasped at seeing the vibrant red and stepped backwards a few steps.

"Are you so desperate that you seek out pathetic high schoolers, Argent?" Peter asked. He looked at Scott. "I can smell the fear in his sweat."

Scott gripped the bat tightly.

"Where is my nephew?" Peter asked.

"I'm not telling you."

"Don't make me kill you. I'd hate to do so since he loves you so much." Peter said. There was a hint of malice in his voice. "I found this while I was looking around."

Peter tossed a small object at Allison. She didn't try to catch it. The object, a small black box, landed at her feet. Scott stared down at it. His mouth was dry and he felt like puking. Derek was going to propose to her.

Peter was watching Scott now. The curious look on his face grew curiouser.

"You look like you're going to puke," Peter said. He stared at him a little longer. "Who are you?"

"Scott McCall," Allison replied quickly.

She hadn't lowered her weapon.

"Hm," Peter said. He'd gradually got closer to them.

"Where is your pack?"

"Enjoying the night off," Peter said.

"I doubt that," Allison snorted. "You never let them out of your sight for long."

"It's true. That's why I have them going to the clinic," Peter said, grinning.

Allison's breath hitched and she faltered, giving her fear away. Peter smiled wider.

"I figured that he'd go to see my family's old advisor."

"Why are you doing this!?" Allison choked out.

"You won't join me, and I can't have anyone who opposes me." Peter put simply.

"You are destroying this town," she said.

"I'm putting it under proper management."

"You are going to kill so many people," she gritted out.

"Only if they don't survive the change," Peter said. "And Scott here looks like he'd be in the poor, unfortunate few."

Scott's jaw tightened angrily. Peter had no idea what he knew. Scott's fingers had gone numb from holding the bat so tightly. The shrill sound of an alarm went off.

"Sorry, that's me," Peter said. He held up one finger as he pulled out his phone. "Yes, Stiles?

Allison glanced at Scott out of the corner of her eyes. He breathed in and out in short, hard breaths. He was going to have an asthma attack if he wasn't careful. The rage in his eyes confirmed her thoughts about him, though. He wasn't lying. The Scott she knew was invisible. He kept to himself. He'd quit the lacrosse team sophomore year and joined the photography club. He was always on time to class and didn't talk unless he had too. Danny had always said that he was the smartest kid in class, besides Lydia. He said that it was because he didn't have a life and he had no friends. This Scott wasn't like that at all. There was purpose in him.

He bent at the knees, ready to propel himself at Peter.

Peter paced a couple of steps and looked up at the ceiling as he spoke without worry.

"You found him, excellent," Peter said.

Allison's finger closed firmly around the trigger. One twitch would send the arrow through the alpha's chest.

"Do it. I have the hunter here." Peter said. He met Allison's eyes. "I just wish I was there to say goodbye."

"No!" Allison screamed and pulled the trigger.

Peter caught the arrow effortlessly and snapped it in two. She pulled out another arrow and loaded the crossbow.

"Don't wait for me. Just make sure he doesn't suffer. He is family after all." Peter hung up.

Allison shot again and pierced his shoulder. Peter let out a groan and bent forward about a quarter of the way. Scott took the opportunity and charged at him. He flanked Peter's side, swung the bat back then forward as he reached him. The wood splintered on impact across his back. The loud crack echoed through the loft.

Peter stood tall and took the arrow out and let it fall from his fingertips to the ground. The metal tip clinked. He grabbed Scott by the throat and lifted him into the air. Scott dropped the bat and gripped Peter's arm, trying to claw his hand away.

"Did you honestly think you could fight me? ME!?" Peter bellowed.

"I've killed you," Scott wheezed.

"Let him go!" Allison shouted. Another arrow stuck in Peter's side.

Peter ignored it scowled up at the teenage boy. Scott felt a pinch in his throat and knew that it was his claws digging into his windpipe. His stare grew colder towards Scott.

"In your dreams," Peter growled and snapped his neck.

Scott hung there lifelessly. Peter sneered at him then tossed him aside. Allison still had her crossbow pointed at him. Her hands shook like her breath.

"Your heart is pounding pretty fast," Peter said.

"I'm just hoping that the poison kicks in before you kill me," she said.

"Poison," Peter laughed. He looked at his wounds. They hadn't healed yet. They were getting worse actually. Blood dripped over his grey V-neck. "Wolfsbane."

"Dipped every arrow in it," she said then let loose another arrow. Peter howled.

He fell to his knees after pulling this arrow out of his side. His mouth hung open and he swayed.

"You bitch," he spat, then coughed. Blood splatted onto the floor in front of him and oozed down his chin. "I should've killed you first!"

Allison didn't respond. She watched him endure tortures that caused his insides to boil and rupture until he fell over dead. For good measure, she put an arrow in his skull.

"Goodbye Peter," she whispered.

Allison set her crossbow down and knelt beside Scott. He stared off into nothingness.

"I'm so sorry," she said. She ran her fingers through his curly hair then stood and walked out of the loft. She picked up the small box on the floor then shut the door behind her. There were still people she had to find.

Scott shot up in bed at the sound of his buzzing alarm clock.

"Scott! Wake up! You're going to be late for school!" his mom called up the stairs.

His face went ghostly pale at hearing those words. Footsteps came barreling up the stairs. Melanie slid into his doorway, grabbing it to stop herself. She rubbed her side. Her face scrunched in annoyance at the doorframe as if it had been the one to run into her, not the other way around.

"Hey! Move it! I don't have time to be late. Finstock will have my ass for breakfast…and strangely I think he enjoys torturing me. Isaac doesn't like waiting either," she told him.

She smiled and crossed her arms over her chest. Her hair hung messily over her shoulders. The smile faded quickly, though.

"Are you okay? You look sick," she said.

"I'm fine," he breathed, smiling.

He got up and rushed across the room and hugged her tightly. He felt her back pop in four places.

"Scott? Are you okay?" she asked. Her voice was soft and whispery.

"Yeah." He let go. "I just—I just realized how good I have it."

"Good? Did you forget about people being sacrificed for some strange reason?"

"No, I haven't. But, I do know that it could be much worse."

"Okay." She laughed. "This has gotten too touchy-feely. Hurry the hell up, you dink."

He chuckled and closed his bedroom door behind Melanie.

Melanie trotted down the stairs and pulled out her phone.

"Deaton, it worked. How'd you know that he'd make it out of that hell instead of a coma?"

"I believe in him," Deaton replied. "Remember Melanie, you can't tell anyone."

"I know." She hung up and went out to the car, calling out good morning to Melissa as she did.

Isaac sat on the hood of her car.

"Get off my car," Melanie guffawed.

"Remember, I took care of it while you were away."

"Stop trying to make me feel guilty. It won't work," Melanie said flatly. She pulled him off the car.

He slid his arms around her waist in mid-action. Melanie scowled at him playfully then laid her head on his chest, thinking about Scott. Her mouth opened up to yawn. She blinked at few times then sighed. Her eyes felt heavy from the lack of sleep last night.

Scott had been losing hope more and more lately. They had no other choice, but to show him how much worse it could've been. The dream wasn't a lie or a scare tactic. It was a truth. That's what the dreamwalker told them.

Scott came out, almost bouncy like. He smiled at the two of them.

"Let's go," he said.

Isaac watched him, his eyebrows raised with curiosity as he got in the car.

"At least somebody slept well," Isaac mumbled.

"Hey!" Melanie snapped. "You slept."

She winked, opening the driver's door then got in.

Hope you enjoyed it:) Review for me?