AN: You can find the links to the songs in the AO3 version of this fic.

i. song: fix you

It felt like ages, and yet it hadn't been all too long when Derek had shown Stiles the little pond hidden in the depths of the preserve. Until now Stiles hadn't found the time to return and soak in the atmosphere of peace and serenity, but after school today there had been this feeling in his guts, this itch at his fingertips that he needed to do something before all this pent-up energy was released in a way he couldn't control. The last days had taken their toll on his mind and now he needed a place where he could reset, slot everything back where it belonged; a place where he could let his guard down, a change of scenery.

Stiles could have done this at home, because despite everything that had happened, in his heart his family's house was still above all his home, his fortress against the world and all of its dangers and threats. But just the thought of another hour in his rooms, inside the same four walls where he had spent so much time made him want to crawl out of his skin. He was restless and the civilisation his own room represented just didn't feel right to his instincts who yearned for the unspoiled touch of nature untamed. So Stiles had allowed his wolf to break free and not as two but as one entity they had run through the preserve until they had reached the place still the same as the first time Derek had shown it to them.

Stiles had gotten rid of his shoes and socks and as his naked feet had touched the grass it had felt like coming home, as if nature itself was welcoming him back into its fold. It was cold and still a little bit wet from the morning dew, but it didn't feel uncomfortable. It felt right. He had taken breath after breath, just relishing the feeling of fresh air filling his lungs to the brim as he listen to the sound of the water gurgling along, as if it was inviting him to play. And then Stiles had just let himself fall on his back, a move he wouldn't have dared before he had turned into a werewolf and hadn't moved ever since then. Just staring at the sky that was peeking out between the canopy of leaves that hung from the tree branches above him.

Maybe he could stay here forever? Never return and just become one with the nature surrounding him. Nature was uncomplicated: No misunderstanding, no miscommunication, no deceit and no lies, just the simple truth of fight and survive. There was no Alpha Pack here, no practitioner of dark magics, no trigger-happy hunter family – just the birds that chirped from the trees around him, the countless small insects that hid underneath the grass and the earth. It was so easy to forget all the problems that plagued him back in the civilised world.

Of course, Stiles was well aware that this was just daydreams on his side. Besides, he was too much addicted to games and memes to renounce the modern world. Running from your problems never solved them in the long run, and yet he was still very much a fan of this solution. But it wasn't only him anymore, was it? He had people depending on him, who looked at him for leadership, so he couldn't just stick his head into the sand and hope everything would just pass over.

Stiles had long learned that while there were times where you had to look at the great picture, there were also times where you had to concentrate on just taking on small step at a time. Sometimes the big picture was far off in the distance, appearing insurmountable, towering above you and instilling hopelessness and despair because there seemed no way you could ever achieve what you set out to. Small steps, though, where manageable, sometimes even instinctual and sometimes, without looking, you would take so many small steps that you reached your goal without even noticing that you had been on the way all along.

Stopping the Alpha Pack, defeating the Darach and managing whatever other supernatural shenanigan they didn't even know about yet – it was enough to make a guy feel desperate, so Stiles concentrated on one of the few things his pack was good at: Collecting information and defying the odds. There had been many times in the past where Scott and he shouldn't have been able to overcome their obstacles, but in the end they had always uncovered new information that had helped them come out on top. As if all of this was just a giant puzzle and the stakes were their lives. Maybe right now all of their aims seemed to be out of reach for them, but sooner or later they would discover the smoking gun that would help them turn the tables.

Stiles really believed that, even if it was difficult sometimes.

So that was what their next step would be: Gathering information.

"I know you're there, Derek," Stiles called out without even shifting his position. "I can smell you from here and feel your steps."

"You're getting better," the older werewolf's voice came from the foliage around him before the man himself revealed itself. "I specifically came from the downwind side to see if you would discover me."

"Well, I did," Stiles replied not without a small portion of pride in his voice. What he didn't say was that he had somehow felt Derek coming nearer, a slow warmth he was beginning to feel for every member of his pack that grew more intense the nearer they were. Still fragile and growing, but they were there. They were probably the pack bonds Derek had told him about in one of their lessons.

He could hear the leaves rustle and then the soft vibration of feet stepping onto the grass.

"Did you follow me?" Stiles asked. A shadow fell on his face and when he looked up, he saw that Derek was standing above him, blocking the sky from his view with his body.

Derek snorted. "You may find it difficult to believe, but stalking teenagers isn't what I'm doing for fun."

"I find it hard to believe that you'd do anything for fun," Stiles retorted.

"To answer your question, I usually go for a run in the Preserve and it always takes me here." Narrowing his eyes, Stiles could now recognize that Derek was wearing only shorts and a tank-top; sweat making his skin glistening underneath the sunlight. "This has been the first time that I encountered you here, though."

"I remembered you showing me this place and thought I'd come here again," Stiles replied. "It's so peaceful."

Derek just hummed nonchalantly and then – with the grace that came with being a supernatural being – let himself fall on the ground next to Stiles. Now they were both lying there on the ground, heads barely more than a few centimetres apart, staring up at the sky.

"Would you believe me if I told you that we have a new principal at the school and neither Lydia nor I have seen him yet?" Stiles broke the silence with his rambling. He somehow felt as if he needed to defuse the situation, even if he couldn't quite say why it needed that in the first place. But weird, unrelated rambling had always been his first choice for that.

"How's that?" Derek asked.

"Well, Lydia had a doctor's appointment when the assembly took place and I might have…skipped it?" The last part came out more as a question than a statement. "Anyway, Scott told me that apparently our new principal is Allison's grandfather."

Next to him, he could feel Derek tense up. "If he's an Argent, then he's bad news."

"No kidding," Stiles muttered.

"I mean it," Derek pressed on. "He's been around as patriarch of the family for years and there's been bad rumours about him for nearly as long."

"I'll be careful, alright," Stiles assured him. "But let's not talk about that right now, okay? Just keep him and everyone else away from here." There was a low grumbling from Derek, but it seemed as if he wasn't that keen on discussing the Argents either, so he didn't argue with Stiles.

"You have to watch out that you don't get a cold," Stiles added. "People often underestimate how fast that happens after doing exercise."

"Stiles, I'm a werewolf, I don't get colds."

Stiles blinked. "Ups, sorry. Sometimes I forget that we're not just humans anymore. Just today I burnt my tongue with coffee, but the pain was like gone in just a few seconds."

"It's definitely a perk," Derek replied. "I remember that Laura would always gulp down her coffee when it was still way too hot just because according to her it tasted better like that. Afterwards she couldn't talk for a few minutes, but when asked she would always say that good coffee was worth it."

"That's really weird, but also like super hardcore," Stiles exclaimed. "Your sister sounds awesome."

"You would have liked her. And she you." As Derek said this, his expression changed. There was melancholia, tinted by sadness and longing, of course, but not overwhelmingly so. It was more of a peaceful melancholia, one with which you remembered something good, but also something which you knew was forever lost to you. As if Derek did not quite know if he should feel grief or relief.

"Of course, we're apparently both awesome," Stiles fake drawled. "Like seeks like."

"I wish she was still here," Derek admitted. "She would have known what to do. Unlike me."

Stiles turned his head and looked at Derek who was starring forlornly at the sky. "Hey, listen: Does it majorly suck that your sister's dead? Yes. Do I know what you are going through? A little bit. Are you a total failure? Hell no."

"She would have known what to do when Scott was turned," Derek continued as if he hadn't even listened to what Stiles had said. "She could have helped you better than I."

"Maybe, but we'll never know," Stiles replied. "She isn't here. You are. And maybe you did fuck up a little bit at the beginning, but so did I. So did Scott. Everybody of us fucked things up, but anyone else would have just fucked up in a different way. Because we're all fallible beings and that means that we try, we fail, we try again. And you're really trying with me and with Scott and it works. We're all just bumping along, but we're going somewhere and you're playing a vital in that."

"I guess I should stop questioning myself all the time then?" Derek asked drily.

"Yeah, the only thing anyone around here is allowed to question is their sexuality," Stiles joked, which managed to get the desired response from Derek: The older werewolf just shock his head and laughed.

ii. song: endless war

It was time. No use for delaying it any longer, no second-guessing. If she didn't do it now, then she would always find excuses to not go through with it until it was too late, and everything would be broken beyond repair.

'Did you find her? Is she okay? Is Lydia safe?' Allison asked, coughing up blood. Lydia shook her head to get the vision out of her head; the image of Allison's life slowly seeping out of her, but it only disappeared slowly, its edges clinging to Lydia's consciousness as if it wasn't willing to let go. So much had happened since the vision had haunted her on that night in the hospital, but every now and then they would force themselves on Lydia again. Sometimes barely more than a whisper, a smell or a blurry figure on the edges of her field of vision.

"Thanks for coming," Lydia greeted Allison as the other girl stepped inside her house. Allison just smiled at her, all dimples and with teeth: The perfect all-American girl. Lydia would make sure that her friend kept smiling. That whatever events had led to her eyes ending up cold and broken, the only thing holding her together being Scott on that last night would never happen.

"Well, how could I say no when you told me that you had a whole freezer of as of yet uneaten ice-cream?" Allison asked rhetorically. "I'd go through hell for some strawberry flavour."

"You're in luck then," Lydia chuckled. "I can offer you some of that."

"Sweet," Allison exclaimed. They made their way to the kitchen, Lydia thanking whatever deity was up there that her parents were both gone for the time being. Their smothering had lessened a little bit over the time, so now Lydia was even allowed to do stuff on her own, as if she as – you know – a teenager instead of a toddler.

Allison took a seat at the kitchen isle, while Lydia rummaged through the freezer until she found the promised ice cream. She portioned it into two bowls and offered one to Allison. After Lydia had put the ice cream back, she, too, took a seat at the kitchen isle.

"Mmh, getting up today was worth it just for this," Allison said between spoons of the sweet sugary mixture. In this moment, for a split second, Lydia wished that she had never learned about the supernatural. That she and Allison could just be two best friends enjoying some good old-fashioned ice cream without something else looming over them like a thunder cloud. That she could have just the normal all American teenage experience. But she couldn't go back – she had had that chance once when Stiles had come to her and asked if she really wanted to learn everything that was shrouded to her and she had refused him.

Now there was no turning back for her.

"Glad to hear that there's at least one reason for you to come visit me then," Lydia joked.

"Well, I also like Prada," Allison replied. "And sometimes the company is also good."

"Only sometimes?" Lydia questioned, raising her eyebrows.

"Well, remember when you made me try out this new all-natural crème which receipt you good from some new age blog which was supposed to smoothen our skins? My face was yellow for the rest of the day!"

Lydia let her head fall on the kitchen isle. "We agreed to never mention that ever again, under the pain of death, remember?"

Allison just chuckled and took another spoon full of ice cream.

"Why did you want me to come?" Allison finally asked the question that had probably been on her mind ever since she stepped through the door. "I mean, I'm always happy to spend time with you, but we almost never hang out here." She leaned back and looked expectantly at Lydia, the gears in her mind working.

Lydia looked down on the stone surface of the kitchen isle, taking in the fine texture that had been etched into it by thousands of years of exposure to the elements before it had finally found its current purpose here. She wondered where it would end up next in its long journey. She bit her lip and looked back up at Allison who was still waiting for her reply.

"It's about what has happened around here," Lydia started.

"What about it?" Allison wanted to know. "I know that you know, but I warned you that you should keep out of it and you said you would. This is not a world for either you or me." Lydia didn't point out that in this case Allison probably should refrain from rekindling her romance with Scott.

"I have long thought about what to tell you, or even what," Lydia replied. Stiles wasn't very enthused about her decision, but as long as she didn't give up any useful information, he would leave her free reign to act on her own judgement. "But I don't want any unspoken truths standing between us, because in the end that's what ruins friendships." She took a deep breath. "I told you that I know about the supernatural. But I'm not standing on the side-lines, like I led you to believe. I'm part of it." She straightened her posture and looked straight at Allison. "I want to be part of it."

A wide range of emotions flashed across Allison's face – surprise, hurt, curiosity, betrayal – but it was gone as fast as it had come before it settled back into a more neutral expression.

"So, you're with Stiles now?" she wanted to know. "In his pack?"

"How did you know…"

"…that he's the Alpha?" Allison finished. "I've known for quite a while. He confirmed it when he asked me for that meeting with my parents. You didn't answer my question: Are you part of his pack?"

"I don't know," Lydia replied. "I don't know enough to make that distinction. We're working together and try to get to the ground of what is happening around here. But if it continues on like this, then I guess, one day we will be something."

"You shouldn't," Allison told her. "You're in no way able to survive in this world."

"But you are?" Lydia shot back, more heated than she wanted to.

"Whether I like it or not, my parents trained me for this my whole life," Allison spoke. "The archery, the self-defence, the lessons in weaponry – I'm as prepared as I can be. I can hold my own in a fight, as can every werewolf around here." She looked at Lydia and for the first time Lydia saw something in her best friend's eyes that she had never seen there before: Dismissiveness. "What can you do?"

"So what, just because I'm a girl…"

"Goddamit, Lydia, this has nothing to do with sexism or patriarchism or all the other stuff you like to rant about!" Allison exclaimed. "This isn't like your perfect civilised world, where you rant at some 4chan troll on the internet or have arguments in a study group or make motions at court to resolve an argument. The supernatural world is might makes right and if you don't have power you don't have any rights."

"You know about werewolves barely longer than I do, and yet you feel like you're in any position to lecture me about it?" Lydia spoke in disbelief.

"What would you do if right now a werewolf burst through that door and tried to attack you?" Allison wanted to know. "I've catalogued at least five weapons in your kitchen I could use to fend it off as well as seven spots I could use as cover. I know which spots to attack to immediately neutralise or at least immobilise it while I escaped." Her gaze hardened as she looked at Lydia. "What would you do besides scream and trying to run?" Her gaze hardened. "In a fight you're deadweight."

"Fuck you, Allison!" Lydia shouted, more heat in her words than she wanted, but that was because deep down she knew that Allison was at least partly right. "Just because my family doesn't consist of psychopaths training me to indiscriminately kill me doesn't mean I'm useless." She knew the moment the words left her mouth that she said too much. Allison's expression immediately closed off; all emotions completely wiped away.

"Thank you for your honesty," Allison spoke, her words clipped.

"Allison," Lydia tried. "I didn't mean it like that. I wouldn't…"

"I think it's best if I go now," Allison continued and stood up. "This won't get us anywhere." And then – before Lydia had the chance to come up with something; for once her mind failing her – Allison stood up and rushed out of the door.

iii. song: monster

It shouldn't be that easy.

After the county's sheriff had warned the city of a possible serial killer amidst them, people shouldn't be that careless and yet as Jennifer looked down on her third victim, she thought that they were. Apparently even the possibility of a serial killer lurking in the streets of Beacon Hills couldn't keep the virtuous members of the Beacon Hills High School Chastity Club from meeting up after school and discuss whatever young indoctrinated girls talked about.

It was nice of them, though, to advertise their virginity so willingly to her. It saved her a lot of work.

"Are you the devil?" the terrified girl spluttered. She had long given up on trying to escape the shackles that kept her in place.

Jennifer smiled, exposing her sharp teeth behind her shredded lips. "Oh, honey, would it make you feel better if I were? If you could categorise me into something you know?" She walked around the girl and lowered her head until her lips were right next to the girl's ear. "I'm the evil someone else created." The girl shivered and Jennifer couldn't help but feel a little bit of satisfaction running down her spine. She hadn't felt like that when she had first killed, after having turned into a darach, but the deeper she went down on her path of revenge, the more she could feel those slivers of something else seep into herself.

A long time ago she wouldn't have felt satisfaction. An even longer time ago she would have felt repulsion.

"For what it's worth, I hope that if your heaven truly exists, that you'll end up there."

And then – before the girl could even let out a scream or even process what was happening – Jennifer cut her throat with the dagger in her right hand. Blood came rushing out like a waterfall, splattering on the girl's white blouse and the ground while the girl convulsed in agony. Jennifer held her head between her hands to keep it still and stared down in the girl's eyes while her life was slowly seeping out of her.

She could feel the girl's life force slowly flowing into her, strengthening her powers like the other victims before her had done as well. In this moment, the rush of power made Jennifer nearly feel giddy with joy. She felt as if she could single-handedly defeat Deucalion and his minions, but the rational part of her mind always kept her in check.

It didn't take long before the girl didn't move any longer, now truly dead. The power within her calmed and settled down, the rush of euphoria abating and receding to the back of her mind.

Three down, six still to go.