Two Pack II: Teen Wolf Season Four

by lordtrayus

The Nogitsune is gone, Scott and Isaac are back together, and Stiles has gone back to normal. But, rather than deal with the grief of losing Allison, Scott's pack has to contend with Derek's imprisonment, former foes of the twins trying to settle scores, and taming Malia. But worst of all is a new enemy coming to town, bringing with them an old friend who could destroy them all...

39. Episode 10: Illusion Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf

Two-Pack II

Agravaine roared as he ripped the throat out of a terrified civilian who was trying desperately to get away from him. The plan was going well, between the whists, revenants, Berserkers and the other dogs, they were causing complete chaos across the town, that would certainly get Scott's attention. He'd had it up to here with Scott's reticence, now he was going for blood.

"Agravaine, we have company!" Ciara called to him as he saw a small fleet of police cars bearing down on them, and he laughed mockingly, gesturing towards the Berserkers as he readied his flames to blow up their cars before they got close enough to harass them in any way. The Berserkers, still on loan from Kate Argent, readied their weapons and turned to face the oncoming police cars, however as they did so, a swirling effect of purple magic coiled around them. Agravaine looked at them in shock, what was this now?

The Berserkers suddenly stopped, their breath grating from their skull masks, and with that, the six of them turned and started walking away from them, the purple energy coiled around them with strange sort of purple flashes rippling across their skull masks and into their eye sockets.

"Where the bloody hell do you think you're going? I didn't let you go, now go and kill those cops!" Agravaine spat furiously, grabbing one of them by the forearm, stopping it in it's tracks.

And as swiftly as it stopped it span, and Agravaine was screaming as the Berserkers slit into his chest with its bone sword, blood gushing from the wound as the Gwyllgi dropped to the ground in pain and shock at being so efficiently dealt with. The Berserkers then continued to plod away dolefully, seemingly answering some strange, unknown summons, and Agravaine looked at their retreating backs in horror, he'd lost control of them, how had this happened?

He was the Corrupter, the all powerful Gwyllgi, and even if his power was fading due to his link with Hollis, he should still be able to control the Berserkers! Yet why had they done this, unless it wasn't anything to do with him, no, Kate Argent, the manipulative witch must have done something, yes, it was her, he and Thane would hunt her down and make her suffer for this outrage, no one double crossed the Corrupter!

But now without the six hulking beasts of muscle and bone and the revenants and whists constantly on the move attacking new targets, he and Ciara were now quite exposed, and furthermore, he was wounded himself.

"Let's go." He ordered in annoyance, his cheeks burning in humiliation at being undone in such a way as the cars closed in, and some of the braver police officers took potshots at him as he and Ciara made good their escape, the slash on his chest much more painful than it should be, with little wisps of smoke coming out of it, caused by his own body, nothing the Berserkers had done.

He had to find a way to stop Hollis, the longer this went on, the more likely he himself was to die. And no, the Corrupter wouldn't die.

No, he would survive, he would even thrive. He had to deal with Hollis, killing him was the most likely option, but then if he did… Either way, he had options, and, he thought with a malicious smile, very few of them now actually contained Scott McCall.

As the young Alpha, cast adrift by his best friend's betrayal, would soon learn to his peril.

XX

They'd had no luck finding Stiles, and now the entire town was once more a warzone as Agravaine and his god forsaken pack and minions caused complete chaos throughout the place. Fires had started in several buildings and the death toll was already rising. Scott and Isaac had made little headway trying to find Stiles, and were now beset by three revenants who most certainly weren't the ones who were originally conjured, and quite honestly, fighting them was getting a bit tired.

"What does he actually think he's going to achieve by doing this?" Scott snarled, grabbing this revenant by the neck and throwing them bodily through the air, the revenant crashing into a store front and dropping down to the ground where they went still.

"Who knows?" Isaac snarled, kicking a whist away from him as he slashed his daggers through another revenant, one who unless he missed his guess, was one of the suicides at the school.

Scott threw another revenant away from him before jumping up and kicking his feet into the chest of another, dropping the revenant to the ground. Landing on top of him and breaking both knees absently, he shook his head as he looked around the town. Smoke was billowing high into the air, and screams occasionally punctured the general din of a town at war. The whole thing didn't make sense, why was Agravaine launching another blitz? What exactly was he looking to achieve by doing this? Was Stiles behind this, had he told Agravaine exactly how difficult it was for the pack to cover the whole town when it was a warzone like this? Was the damned Gwyllgi preparing to make some other insidious move to try and get Scott to join him, or was he now just trying to totally break down any form of remaining resistance against him?

Scott ripped into a whist, feeling sickened with himself while he did so, he recognised that dog's markings, he'd worked with that dog. He was so tired, so done with these damn dogs. But his problem was, he couldn't see a way out of this mess, he knew he was getting there with the progress he'd made confronting Hollis at Eichen, but he was still no closer to figuring out a way out of this mess, but he knew they had to do something, if only to try and delay whatever the hell it was that Agravaine was after.

But even if he figured it out, he reflected miserably as he rolled to the floor and slashed out the tendons of yet another revenant, there was no guarantee anything would work, or even if his pack would even support him.

He knew they were all talking about him, about how he had failed to stop the dogs so far, about how he'd gotten Mason killed, about how he hadn't noticed that Stiles was no longer his best friend and had actually willing betrayed them, betrayed him, his so called best friend. How had he gotten this all so wrong? He hadn't noticed Stiles had turned on him, he hadn't dealt with Deaton even though he had proven himself ambivalent at best so many times, and now his entire pack was disintegrating around his ears and he had no idea about how the hell he could fix it.

He couldn't even figure out how to fix the dog situation, he knew he was getting closer to an answer he just couldn't figure out that last little bit that would explain exactly how he could stop the dogs and all of their associated allies.

What help was he really? He was screwing up worse than Derek. Derek would have noticed that his best friend was betraying him. Mind you he wasn't entirely sure that Derek even had a best friend so that perhaps wasn't saying much but still.

"Scott?" Isaac asked softly, throwing another attacking revenant against a wall, stopping that particular one's rampage once again.

He started, he'd zoned out, and Isaac gently laid a hand on his shoulder, his blue eyes filled with worry as he looked at his boyfriend.

"I'm fine. I'm just…done. I…I don't know what to do Isaac. Agravaine seems to be everywhere, he's not going to stop until I either cave or until he destroys everything and everyone I care about. He's murdered Mason, and he turned Stiles against me. What am I meant to do? My own friends are abandoning me, they can tell the ship's sinking." He sighed, and Isaac took Scott's jaw in his hand, his cool fingers stroking the back of his hair as he laid a hand on his Alpha's chest.

"No it isn't. We can beat them Scott, we've beaten everyone else, we'll beat the dogs too. And get Stiles back, either properly or to kick his ass," he promised softly, despite the anger he felt at his friend, he knew no matter what happened Scott would never want to harm Stiles, "and then we can get rid of Agravaine and his damned dogs once and for all." He promised, though he had to admit, while he believed in Scott wholeheartedly, he too was at a bit of a loss as to how to get them out of this mess, Agravaine was everywhere, and Stiles...Stiles' betrayal was part of the reason.

"How sentimental." A voice sneered, and both Scott and Isaac growled, Isaac twirling and throwing one of his daggers right at the source of the voice.

Regretfully (he supposed) Peter caught the dagger just before it plunged between his eyes. Lamenting the fact that he'd stopped the blade, and that it was a very good shot otherwise, he glowered at Peter who threw the blade back at him, while Scott glared at the former Alpha, who had come down looking slightly sooty from another alleyway.

"What are you doing here?" he spat, as another car went up in flames a few streets away, and Peter sighed irritably.

"Contrary to all you and your little friends popular belief, I do have a life you know. However, I'm not having much fun in living it at the moment, due to your self-righteous, noble attitude making you about as an effective an Alpha as an umbrella in a tsunami. Once again, my plans for the day have been ruined by Agravaine and his shenanigans, which you seem completely incapable of stopping. But, by all means, continue coddling one another, it's about all you're good for. Good evening." Peter sneered, and Scott snarled angrily, his claws growing and he seriously considered springing and ripping his throat out but Peter gave him a mocking smile and brushed past them and headed away from them.

Scott stood there, silently simmering, but he was distracted from his rage by air whooshing past him, and a delighted grin broke out onto his face as he heard Peter yelp in pain as the arrow that Isaac had just shot at him found it's mark, the one area of his body with an inbuilt airbag.

"That was so cool!" Scott admitted happily, savouring the glare that Peter sent the two of them from the alley he was heading down, removing the arrow from his butt and snapping it in two before he flounced off.

Hell, actually, after the time he'd had of it recently, witnessing Peter get shot in the ass by his boyfriend's arrow and wiping that smug superior smirk of his face was pretty much the highlight of his week.

"You're welcome. Smug, arrogant bastard. Ah, good waste of an arrow," Isaac said playfully, putting his bow back into his holster on his back and grinning, feeling rather proud of himself, and not just because he had Scott properly smiling again, "what do you say we go and find the others and give them a hand?" he asked, and Scott nodded dolefully, his face flickering in fear as he considered the prospect of seeing his friends, his pack.

"Yeah, let's go." Scott muttered, sounding miserable once again and led the way, Isaac following dutifully behind him, looking increasingly anxious as he smelled the despair that was now rippling off his boyfriend, a sharp contrast to the utter joy he'd had only moments before.

XX

Danny fired an arrow right through the neck of another revenant, dropping them to the floor and allowing Jackson to immobilise them with his claws, ripping apart their legs. Clearly Agravaine had been using the respite they'd had following Mason's death to crank them out like toys in a factory, they were swarming all over the town.

"Jackson!" Danny yelled in alarm as a whist leapt at him from behind a burning car, and Jackson, panting heavily despite his minimal effort as a result of his poisoning, turned and was about to be mauled when the twins suddenly appeared from nowhere, Aiden roaring angrily, caught the whist and threw it bodily into the fire of the car, the beast screeching in pain as it landed in the flames.

"Thanks." Jackson panted, and Ethan looked at him worriedly, offering him a hand and helping him to straighten up, Jackson coughing heavily as he did so.

"You alright?" Aiden asked worriedly, turning and ripping the throat of a revenant out and throwing it into the burning car as more revenants and whists swarmed towards them.

"No. It's getting worse. I don't think I've got much longer left." He admitted, and Ethan shared a worried look with Danny.

Jackson did look like hell, his flesh was going grey, his poisoned arm was constantly shaking, and his hand was now taking on the same poisoned colour as the rest of him. There was a near constant sheen of sweat on him now, and even Danny was beginning to smell to rot inside of him, not just the wolves, and every time Jackson went to sleep at night, he wondered if he would actually see the morning.

They were distracted from this rather grim prediction by the surging of the revenants and the whists, and Aiden and Ethan sprang at the milling zombies, free to give in to their inherent savagery. Danny was covering Jackson, his archery skills only surpassed now by those of Isaac, and of course the standard that they measured themselves against, Allison. He shot whist after whist, and also peppered the revenants with as many arrows as he could manage, and Jackson, despite the danger it posed to him, took down the ones that Danny failed to slow down. The twins, clearly demonstrating how much they had improved with Martagh's tutelage, were a force of nature, throwing the revenants and whists away from them, and then taking turns to put them down permanently (the car on fire was becoming a popular final resting place). However despite their skill, with Jackson lucky to be at half strength, and with Danny quickly running out of arrows, they would soon be overwhelmed by the superior numbers of the undead unless something broke soon.

To their great surprise there was then a roar from up ahead, and Peter Hale then came sprinting into the fray, ripping into the milling throng of the undead, and with their line broken in two places, the twins surged forward, their double team act further breaking the numbers of the undead and the undead then began to retreat.

"Thanks, I suppose," Aiden said as the last of the dead ran off, leaving them panting in the war-torn street, "but what are you doing here?" he asked curiously, and Peter flicked some of the gore out from under his claws wearily, wincing a little as he bent down to make sure that the revenant at his feet was indeed truly dead (his butt was in considerable pain, he had already made a mental note to kill Isaac for this indiscretion before he gutted his beloved Alpha), and looked up at the twins pityingly.

"Saving you by the looks of it. Have you looked at yourselves recently? You used to be the Alpha twins, Deucalion's enforcers, the Voltron wolf…and now look at you, Scott's whipped little Betas. Have you considered how much less danger you and your friends would be in if you just gave in? If you remembered who and what you are?" he pointed out, leaning against another destroyed car (regretting it slightly when he misjudged where his wound was, kick in healing factor, damn you), and had to suppress a smirk as Aiden's eyes glowed blue as both he and Ethan took a menacing step towards him.

So far, he hadn't been poking much at the twins, after all, with Scott saving Aiden the way he had, that was bound to inspire almost fanatical loyalty in them, but now, with the constant stress, the constant losses, the constant failures of their so self-righteously noble Alpha, now was the time to crank it up into high gear.

He had to admit, the plan was going rather well. With Stiles now being forced against the pack, whether his defection was legitimate or not, Scott had been stripped of one of his strongest supporters, his best friend, his second in command, and the fact that it was Stiles who had betrayed him made it all the sweeter, further undermining Scott's confidence in himself and his pack's confidence in him.

Isaac was a no go, Peter had dismissed that from the start. While he would be a prime target, his love and fanatical devotion to Scott, not to mention the fact that the two of them were so erotically co-dependent on each other that they were rarely apart, meant that it would be extremely risky and foolish to try his particular brand of pot stirring for a potentially little gain.

Malia was also quite a strong factor in the pack, but she had already been neutralised, though despite his best efforts that was more down to Stiles' actions than his own.

Kira was too new to the pack, and her lingering feelings for Scott and the fact that she was one of the most level-headed members of the pack meant that he had also discounted her as a possibility as well. Put simply, he didn't know enough about her to be sure of a victory with her, and didn't know her well enough to know if he'd be successful.

Jackson was obviously playing his part beautifully, and with his best friend in danger of imminent death and his boyfriend soon to be fretting about his twin who had already had one brush with death, Danny would be joining in soon too.

Lydia, assailed by the Pombero and her feelings of uselessness and inadequacy following Allison's death, was getting there and was just about ready to be put to the boil, admittedly he had to dodge the pesky Scuffock who could get in his way, but there was one slight benefit that she didn't know him as well as the pack did.

Derek was a squirrely problem he had to admit, his nephew was quite loyal and fond of Scott (not that he ever really showed it), but still, Peter was convinced that there was a little bit of resentment towards the younger boy for becoming the Alpha over him, and the fact that he was objectively doing a better job than he had ever done (Peter and Agravaine's efforts aside) but he didn't know if he wanted to risk it, as if anyone could figure out what Peter was up to, it would be Derek (well, at least in theory, he, like his young Alpha, could be a bit dense at times).

The three younger kids weren't much of an issue. While he had considered using them following Mason's death, truth be told as humans and due to their newcomer status in the pack, he didn't really feel the need to. And besides, he had heard Stiles telling Agravaine before that the three kids didn't seem to blame Scott for the death of Mason, so he had automatically dismissed them. They were rather inconsequential in the general scheme of things.

And now, with a little bit of a push, the twins, the last remaining bastion of loyalty to Scott, tepid though it may have become, would now be on the outs as well.

And with Jackson, Malia, Lydia, Danny, the twins and most importantly Stiles out of the way, with Derek on the fence, Scott would soon be completely isolated from the lion's share of his power base, and then soon after that, his blood would be soaking Peter's claws, and Peter would once more be the Alpha, like he always should have been.

"We're not those people anymore." Aiden snarled at him, clearly wanting nothing more than to tear his throat out with his claws which he was flexing as though imagining them ripping into Peter's neck, and the former Alpha sent a smug, pitying glance towards Aiden.

"Clearly, if you were, Agravaine would probably be dead by now. Instead, you've become the obedient lapdogs of a pacifist at war, and so soon after your last brush with death too, it can only be a matter of time. Now, I'm heading home, do try not to get yourselves killed without me." Peter purred and he allowed himself a smirk as all three wolves gave him a bark like growl as he made good his escape, that was all that was required, they themselves would do the rest.

After all, they had been gotten to this point by an expert. Ah, unless his nose deceived him, which it never did, Lydia wasn't far from here either, so one last stop before he actually did go home. But strange, there was another familiar smell on the air, one he couldn't quite place, but until he did it would annoy him all night…

"Come on, our eyes are already blue, no one would notice if we took him out and blamed it on the revenants." Aiden grumbled, and Danny shook his head, glaring at the retreating form of Peter in distaste.

"Don't bother, he isn't worth it, he just likes to rub our noses in the fact that we're getting our asses kicked." he complained, looking around at the defeated whists and revenants that he had lent a hand to subdue, but it was then that Danny noticed the uncertain look on Ethan's face, looking anxiously at Aiden, who was oblivious to his brother's preoccupation.

"The thing is, he kind of has a point. Aiden, the Oni almost killed you, and yeah, Scott saved you, but Peter's right, Danny's right, we're getting our asses handed to us. We need to do something, otherwise…otherwise you might not get saved this time." He said worriedly, and Aiden turned a patient yet consoling look onto his twin, who looked back at him nervously.

"Ethan, I'm not going to die again." Aiden grumbled patiently, and Ethan looked at him anxiously.

"Aiden, look at this place! This is the second time the dogs have attacked like this, and you're not invincible! I can't…I don't want you to die again, I can't deal with that happening again. At the end of the day, Scott isn't able to cope with all of this, and if we're still part of his pack, we'll go down with him!" he insisted, and despite the din of a town at war, the four of them standing together could hear a pin drop as Aiden stared stonily at his brother.

"Ethan, we spent all that time trying to get Scott and the others to accept us, to let us into the pack after Deucalion's imploded, and now because things are getting tough you want to bail? If it wasn't for Scott we'd be dead! If it wasn't for Scott, I'd be dead! Yeah, I know he's struggling, but look what's happened, we only recently lost Allison, we've lost Mason, and now Stiles has betrayed us, how do you think Scott's meant to cope with that? We're meant to be members of his pack, we're meant to help him, and I reckon if anyone else was an Alpha, we'd be doing even worse than we actually are, we're barely hanging on, sure, but that isn't Scott's fault, he's doing the best he can, and at the end of the day, Isaac's right, we owe Scott too much to abandon him now, he's lost enough. For a young Alpha growing into his power, everything that's happened since we defeated the Nogitsune, the dogs, everything, Scott is doing the best he can. And you know Scott Ethan. He doesn't want any of us to die. And if he can stop it, he will. And besides…even if I agreed, where would we go?" he asked pointedly, and Ethan looked at his shoes, shamefaced, and Danny squeezed his boyfriend's arm reassuringly.

Jackson looked at Aiden in disbelief. He could understand why Aiden was so loyal to Scott, Scott saving him had to have made an impact on him, and Isaac tearing them all a new one would also have helped ensure his loyalty, but he just didn't see it. As far as he could see, Scott was failing, and not just failing, he was failing badly, epically even.

If he was reasonable, he could see it wasn't all Scott's fault, he'd had no way of preventing Mason's death, or even of knowing that Stiles had gone rogue, hell, or even properly stopping the dogs, they'd been on the back foot ever since the dogs had shown up. But at the end of the day, Scott wasn't the one who was dying, no, that was him, he had days left at most, and Scott seemed content to navel gaze while the dogs ripped apart the town with their horde of undead, aided and abetted by Stiles, and all the while Jackson got closer to dying all over again.

However, Jackson wasn't reasonable, he was scared, and above all, he was dying.

"You might not have anywhere to go, but you at least aren't dying! I am! And McCall can't do anything about it!" he stormed, though flinched as Aiden glared at him, his eyes flashing blue again as he growled a little in warning.

"Yeah, I know, we all know. But that isn't Scott's fault, and like I said, he doesn't want anyone to die. He's trying his hardest and he isn't going to let you die without a fight." He told him irritably, after all it wasn't Scott's fault that Agravaine had poisoned Jackson, and the obnoxious jock had a bit of a cheek blaming Scott for the fact that he was dying, when he was rapidly becoming one of the few people who actually cared enough to save Jackson.

"I know that, but I'm still dying, and clearly, the only way to stop that is to stop Agravaine, and McCall can't do that, so maybe it's time someone actually did do it! Say what you like about Peter, he wouldn't be taking all this lying down the way Scott is, we need someone else, someone better…we need another Alpha." Jackson said with a terrible finality, and Ethan laid a hand on his twin's chest before he sprang on the ailing Beta and ripped his throat out with his teeth.

"You want to leave?" Aiden snarled angrily, and Danny looked at his boyfriend's twin nervously.

"No, that isn't what he's saying at all, what he's saying is that Scott, much as well all love him," he said placatingly, and Jackson gave an irritable twitch of his head as if to signify that he agreed, "isn't doing well, he isn't doing what he needs to, he didn't even notice Stiles had gone dark on us, again, and look what it cost us last time. What he's saying is, maybe Scott should step back, let someone else take the reins until we deal with Agravaine once and for all, which let's face it, Scott…he won't do." He said softly, hating himself for saying it, the words like bile in his throat, and Ethan looked imploringly at his brother.

"Aiden, maybe we should listen to them, because if this keeps up, you're going to die, again, and I can't deal with it. I love Scott, but…they do have a point, and at the moment, with all this," he said, gesturing hopelessly at the state the town was in, "how long will it be before Agravaine kills another one of us? Kills you, or me?" he asked pointedly, and Aiden snarled at his twin, though did nothing else, turning away from them.

"We need someone different, someone who knows how to properly fight a war like this, and that just isn't McCall, who's still navel gazing and feeling sorry for himself when the towns going to hell, there's undead dogs everywhere, and I'm dying. We need someone better, someone with a clue." Jackson admitted, and Aiden shook his head, hating what he was hearing.

No, this wasn't Scott's fault, not at all, but everyone was so scared, so anxious, they were beset by problems, and Scott had been blindsided enough recently, of course he was struggling.

"No, we don't. Scott will get a plan eventually." Aiden growled, not looking at any of the others, his brother in particular, he couldn't bear to see the tortured expression on his twin's face, and Jackson scoffed incredulously.

"Eventually? Eventually, by the time Scott figures something out, I'll be dead, we're not exactly dealing with the brains trust here! I don't have time for eventually, I need Agravaine dead now, otherwise, I'm dead!" he thundered, and Danny sent him a warning look as he laid his hand on his chest, getting stressed out wouldn't help matters at all.

"Well if you're so keen not to die, maybe you should come up with a plan? Since we've all tried, we're all equally stumped, yet you in particular seem determined to blame Scott when he's one of the few people who actually cares about saving your life! We don't even know if killing Agravaine would save you, so having a go at Scott for that just shows how much of an ass you really are! Now, I get that you're scared, I really do. I was like that not that long ago, but Scott isn't going to let you die, he's just overwhelmed. And unless you missed it, every bad guy who's came to town has been and gone, and Scott's still standing. My money's on Scott." Aiden growled with finality, then turned away from Jackson, he really could be an obnoxious ass at times, and he didn't think it would do his street cred with the pack any good if he attacked the highly strung arrogant jock while he was dying (no matter how much

he deserved it).

"Aiden…he is kind of right." Ethan mumbled, and Aiden stopped for a second before allowing himself a small growl and he tore on ahead, his twin hurrying to catch up looking anxious and ashamed, while Jackson, breathing heavily, leaned against a building, fighting down the urge to throw up as black spots blossomed over his hand and he felt a sort of dull, searing ache kick in, as if he'd put his whole body through a ten-hour workout.

"Yeah, I am right. If Scott is in charge much longer, it won't just be me who dies. It'll be all of us." Jackson warned, his dire warning giving way to a whimper of pain as his poisoning surged through his body again, and Danny looked at his best friend worriedly.

He knew most of his attitude to Scott was being caused by fear (as it was Jackson they were talking about, the rest was simply because he didn't like anyone being better than him, and having someone who beat him to being a werewolf, that same someone who used to be barely able to breathe without his inhaler had to be especially humiliating for Jackson) but at the end of the day, however they span it, Scott was part of the problem, not the solution.

He had barely kept Ethan together when Aiden had been dying, and he couldn't bear to see that happen all over again, which like Jackson said, was looking increasingly likely the longer they remained loyal to Scott. Who was to say it wouldn't be Aiden, or Ethan, or even him next, all because Scott was so powerless to stop the dogs?

But even if they did entertain the idea of another leader, who did they turn to? Who could lead them out of this mess? And even if they did that, would Scott ever forgive them?

His mind abuzz with the implications, he slung Jackson's good arm over his shoulder, helping his friend get back to his feet as the two of them hurried to catch up with the others.

XX

Martagh slammed her staff into a revenant, sending it flying through the air while Lydia, battling beside her, unleashed one of her sonic screams, using the force of her attack to knock them all flying, giving them a respite from the throng that was so determined to cause havoc throughout the town. A whist sprang at the two of them, and Martagh spun, knocking it away from them as though she were a baseball player.

"Good shot, home run, easy." Lydia commented as the milling whists, snarling menacingly, circled around them, prepared to strike again.

"Thank you, from my days at school, playing rounders, not your American nonsense. Exactly what do the damn dogs hope to achieve with all this?" she asked, looking around irritably and gesturing at the chaos the dog's minions were causing.

The whists surged forward, snarling at them, trying to rip them asunder with their jagged spines that were protruding from their ruined necks. Lydia gathered her power into a sonic scream, blowing them all backwards while Martagh struck like a viper, her staff a cyclone around her, slamming into successive whists and knocking them flying, with magic blasts coming from the end of her staff to force them back. Lydia channelled her power into a hand, touching the protruding spine of one of the whists and the force of the sonic blast she channelled into it shattered the broke, dropping the whist like a sack of potatoes onto the ground.

"Impressive apprentice." Martagh commented, using her staff to blast a resurging revenant away from her, and Lydia grinned just as another revenant came charging at them, grabbing for their necks, snarling angrily, making both master and apprentice narrow their eyes in concern.

The revenant was then knocked spiralling as Peter of all people arrived, ripping his claws through the dark being and throwing it bodily away before he turned with a slight smirk to face Lydia and Martagh, who looked at him in distaste.

"What are you doing here?" she challenged, brandishing her staff at him threateningly, and Peter raised his hands to placate her as the whists and revenants, sick of their constant defeats, milled away from them, slouching off in defeat.

"Don't mind me, I'm just trying to navigate my way home through this warzone that the dogs have created. Dear me, they have made quite the mess haven't they?" Peter commented idly, watching with half an eye as they retreated, leaving chaos, destruction and most likely death in their wake.

"Yes, it is rather tedious. Don't let us stop you, I hardly think you're a good Samaritan sort. Come apprentice, we need to find the others, if nothing else the police could use a break. After me I think." Martagh said, gesturing for Lydia to follow her, and the Banshee turned to follow her teacher, throwing a last resentful look at Peter as she did so.

Peter flashed her a small smirk, he would have to be careful here, the Scuffock was far more likely to pick up on him being up to something, she was quite protective of Lydia after all, and was extremely suspicious of him, especially due to his role in Lydia's awakening as a Banshee. Yes, softly softly catchee monkey and all that.

"Once again the town's under attack Lydia, Agravaine really is determined to break Scott wouldn't you say? Such a shame Scott is completely unable to stop him, or even slow him down." He told him, and she turned back to him, favouring him with a venomous glare, the white streak in her hair making the effect all that much more impressive, he had to admit.

"We're working on it, and Scott will find a way to stop him, he's beaten everyone else who came through the town. Including you in case you've forgotten." She snarked back at him, her voice like poisoned honey, and he suppressed the surge of anger he felt at being reminded of his defeat at the hands of his own Beta, his nephew and two of their dorky friends.

"Yes, little Scott is rather good at defying the odds, I'll give him that. But there's only so many times that one can beat the odds Lydia. As I'm sure you remember, as Aiden nearly discovered…and as Allison discovered too." He said pointedly, before giving her a cheerful wave and disappearing into the night.

Yes, tonight had been rather fun he had to admit, he was rather enjoying his Iago act, it was rather fun. The various bonds of the pack were fraying, all it would require was one last little push and they'd all snap, and then Scott would no longer be an issue.

His usurping Beta who became the so-called True Alpha simply by luck would no longer be the Alpha, and everything in Beacon Hills would be well again.

And he would once more be the Alpha.

Lydia glowered at where Peter had vanished into the night. He was up to something, he had to be, but exactly what he was up to, she couldn't quite figure out. In fact, chances were he'd been up to something ever since he had come back to Beacon Hills, and she had a horrible feeling that whatever he was up to wasn't going to be good for anyone when it was eventually revealed. But as it stood, she just couldn't quite place a finger on what he was doing, in fact, he seemed in his own way to be helping, which was alarming in and of itself, as him being a good Samaritan was just weird.

But that didn't mean he didn't have a point, she mused darkly as she hurried to catch up to Martagh. After all, they had lost Allison, they had now lost Mason, Erica and Boyd had been lost as well and had now, along with Allison, been weaponised against them, and Aiden had very nearly died.

Hell, all of them had very nearly died, Jackson had died once before as well, Isaac had come close, so had Stiles. And with Mason already dead at the dog's hands, how long would it be before Peter was proved right, and their luck ran out once again? Who would it be this time? And despite her defence of Scott, she had to admit, he was overwhelmed, and whatever fight he'd had left in him had been sapped by Stiles' treachery. And a pack with a broken Alpha would be easy prey for Agravaine and his pack.

She hated herself for thinking it, she shouldn't even be considering it, but she had to admit, Scott was failing, he just…he just didn't have a clue about how to stop the damn dogs. And with Stiles having betrayed them, his spirit was broken, and it was pretty obvious that Isaac was the only thing keeping Scott together at the moment, and how long would it take before the dogs realised that and went after him to finish off Scott?

But if Scott couldn't lead them out of this mess, even with all the pack helping him, who could help them out of it? Who could they trust, rely on, to help them get out of this mess and take over until Scott got his head sorted out again? And even then, was there even any guarantee that Scott would ever be able to lead them properly again with his own self belief being undermined constantly as well? Did Scott even want to be the Alpha?

"Lydia!" Martagh chastised, and she hurried to catch up with her mentor, her stomach twisting itself into nauseous knots that had nothing to do with tonight's sequel to the Rise of the Living Dead.

XX

Peter left the sounds of the embattled town far behind as he followed his nose, chasing after that smell, the one he couldn't quite place. While the whists and revenants seemed to be falling back, and the pack seemed to be regaining the upper hand, aided and abetted by the police and the hunters, he knew that this plan was simply a means to further drive home their claims of Scott's incompetence to the pack, and he believed he had done more than enough to convince the pack of his sincerity in this regard, now all that there was to do was sit back and watch them all implode.

But still, that strange scent was really annoying him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he identified it. The smell was getting stronger the further away from the centre of town he got, he couldn't help but feel it was right under his nose, but there was nothing else that he could see that was actually helping him identify the source of the odour. He winced as glass blew out of a window in a building above him, and he ducked to avoid the worst of it falling onto him. As he did so, cursing the overzealousness of Agravaine's undead forces, he saw that the answer was, quite literally, under his very nose.

The sewers, the smell was coming from the sewers, he mused as he looked at the manhole cover he was standing on. Strange that a werewolf, even one as strong as he, should be able to smell something that ought to have been covered by the rather pungent aroma coming from the sewers. In fact, it didn't make sense, but then again, it wasn't just the smell, it was something else, like a…bond.

Peter growled in annoyance, that's what the sensation was, it was like that of an Alpha to a Beta. However, due to a rare miscalculation on his part, he was no longer an Alpha, that was the entire point of everything he'd been up to the last few months, but yes, the bond was quite like the feeling, that sort of sixth sense he'd had of Scott when he had bitten him. Now, he knew for a fact that it wasn't Scott he could smell and sense (if he really tried, sensing has never been his forte even when he'd been the Alpha, but that was obviously because Scott was so love struck over Allison, nothing to do with him), so as he had no other previous Betas then that could only mean that this strange scent, the one he could smell above the reek of the sewers and amidst all the chaos of the battle, it could only be one person, his accidental 'Beta', the one he'd created by accident when he had actually been wanting to rip her throat out because of the indignities she had visited upon him.

Kate Argent.

Taking a cautious look around (after all, he had a reputation, how would it look if he was seen entering a sewer?) he opened the manhole cover and descended into the underground network. Landing deftly, he took a deep breath, a move he regretted, as the awful aroma of human waste, damp and rot filled his nostrils. Gagging slightly, and squinting in the murky, greenish glow of the tunnels, he had a vague idea of the direction his so called 'Beta' was and headed off in that direction. As his nose acclimatised to the smell, (while witnessing sights he hoped never to see again, give him his gory murder scenes of all the arson conspirators again, that was better than trudging through human waste) and he watched his step lest he wind up in the stream of putrid water beside him, he could smell a distinct coppery aroma that was nothing to do with the rotting pipes down here. Ah, that explained a lot, as to why Kate was suddenly lurking in the sewers, she was wounded.

Ooh, she might be dying!

Smiling broadly as that happy thought occurred to him, Peter skipped onwards, after all, if she was dying, he wanted to be there to see that happy moment, and to dispose of her properly this time. Actually…maybe he should take her body elsewhere and make sure he burned her this time, with Beacon Hill's track record of people coming back from the dead, if he left her down here she would probably be brought back by the sewer water and become some three headed rat/jaguar hybrid, and that would be all they needed, especially once he was Alpha again.

Damn, no such luck, he mused, as he turned a corner and saw Kate, her features fully transformed, roaring in pain as she tried to extract a bullet from her shoulder, her side and her hip. To her credit, her hand, which also seemed to have been shot, looked like it was healing so at least she'd made some progress.

Hissing in pain as she tried and failed once again to claw out the bullet embedded in her hip, she caught a slight scent and turned, her green eyes flashing in furious alarm as she saw a grinning Peter approaching her.

"Oh great, like I don't have enough problems. Sorry but if you think I'm going to go down without a fight, I'm going to have to disappoint." She hissed, though more from pain than anger, and Peter smirked, he was rather enjoying this, it was quite poetic really.

"Dear dear, it looks like you've had a rough day. And while I'm rather savouring the sight of you most likely slowly bleeding to death, it looks like your Calavera friends turned on you so their bullets are most likely more than capable of killing you, I have to admit to being curious as to how they figured you out." He said, considering leading nonchalantly on the pipes but thinking better of it, and instead just crossed his arms and fixed her with his cheerful gaze.

She growled in her throat, her green eyes narrowed at him resentfully, but wincing with pain and figuring that either way as he wasn't going to do anything until he got an answer, she relented.

"The damn djinn showed up, took control of my Berserkers, told the Calaveras what I am, and the hand I had in the death of Araya and Severo. They weren't interested in grief counselling shall we say." She hissed, wincing once more in pain, and Peter mused the situation over in head, his mind abuzz with the implications.

So, Kate had lost control of the Berserkers, which also meant they were no longer carrying out Agravaine's bidding and were instead working for the damn djinn, whatever his master plan was. The Calaveras now had no form of control which meant, as Ricard was relatively sensible all the things considered, meant that the remaining members were about to become a serious pain in the rear all over again, even with their number significantly diminished. And now Kate, the same woman who had murdered his entire family, and worse had condemned him to spending the better part of six years a prisoner of his own body as he healed, cell by cell, was now trapped and at his mercy.

"Get it over with then." She challenged, drawing him from his reverie, and he cocked his head at her curiously.

"Out of interest, what exactly did you have in mind when you came down here? It's not like you could make your way to the good vet and get him to help, Scott's pack ran him out of town, and from the looks of it the new lad isn't aware of the supernatural. So what was your plan?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes.

"At the time, my plan was to escape from the hailstorm of bullets the Calaveras were sending at me. But I did plan to lie low until my healing kicked in but…" she admitted, tailing off bitterly and avoiding looking at him, and Peter chuckled.

"But you can't control your transformation entirely yet can you? And as a result, you can't force the healing to kick in the way everyone else can. Oh how sweet, a baby Nagual, hell, just a kitten really." He taunted, and she snarled, standing and facing him defiantly, her claws extending furiously, teeth gnashing in impotent rage.

"I may be a kitten, but I was still able to hold my own against you before, and like hell am I giving you the pleasure of killing me without a fight. So come on then, do it! Come on!" she screamed at him, and he allowed his eyes to glow blue, extending his own claws and fangs, readying himself to finally rid himself of her, once and for all.

Smiling, his fangs stretching his mouth as he allowed himself his small indulgence, he paced towards her, rather savouring the reversal of fortune that had brought her to this moment. The woman who had so humiliated him, who had brought the Hales so low, turned into a werejaguar by his own hand, the very antithesis of her family's creed, unable to control her transformation, and now forced out by the last link to her humanity she had, and forced down into the sewers, and now, entirely at his mercy, awaiting his pleasure.

Vengeance really was sweet.

"So, Kate, you flee down here, and I expect your plan was to make your way to your brother yes?" he taunted, and the little flicker of alarm in her heart confirmed his suspicions, he could hear it easily down here, the only other noises in the damp sewer was the steady dripping that filled the place, very easy to hear one's heartbeat, especially when she had no control over her transformation whatsoever and hence couldn't even hide it.

Peter chuckled in dark amusement.

"Oh yes, go running to the bleeding-heart hunter who has sided with the very same boy who got your poor niece killed, who would happily put you down to protect them, that's a great idea. Poetic really…the best of the Argent hunters, bar your father of course, killed by the worst of them, and all for little…Scott…McCall…." He hissed, and suddenly stopped, and as she growled furiously at the mention of his name, a new idea blossoming into his head.

Scott, that lovestruck, self-righteous, overly noble boy who had become Alpha by mere luck, so upright and incorruptible that it was now becoming a weapon to be used against him to bring down him and his entire pack. Scott, who's first love had been the scion of one of the most renowned hunter families in the world, and who's inspired, charismatic leadership had led to her death…but even Peter couldn't deny, her death had been fighting for Scott, for what he believed in.

Scott, who had survived his own good self, survived Kate, Gerard, the Alpha Pack, the Darach, the Nogitsune and now the Pombero as well, and yet was still standing, whereas his various enemies were all scattered in various states of disrepair.

Scott, who despite everything, had become rather well versed in sudden reversals of fortune and was still going strong.

"We have a problem." He admitted in a husky whisper, his eyes still glowing blue, and she looked at him hesitantly, hardly daring to believe he was passing up the chance to finish her off there and then.

"A problem? What sort of problem?" she asked, interested despite herself, though edging away from the range of his claws, she wasn't stupid and didn't entirely trust that this wasn't some form of trap.

"Scott. Despite everything, he's still going. Despite everything, he's not dead, even though he should be several times over. Every single one of us has underestimated him at some point. Me, you, Gerard, Deucalion…we all gravely underestimated him. And as a result…" he began, his eyes fading back to their usual colour as the full implication of what he was thinking set in, and hissing in annoyance (though also in pain), Kate too reverted back to her human form.

"And as a result, my family has been decimated, you were humiliated, the vaunted Alpha pack destroyed…we could go on." She admitted, she too had to admit, they had all underestimated him in the past, to their own peril.

"Exactly. Now, I have every confidence in my plan, naturally, but let's just say…for argument's sake, that our stubborn little Alpha manages to pull it out of the bag once again? I mean I would be a fool not to plan for that eventuality, however remote the possibility. You agree?" he shot at her, scarcely believing these thoughts were going through his head, but here he was.

Kate smirked at him, a haughty smile on her face.

"Well then, I get to dance on your grave once again Peter. You forget, I need Scott alive." She reminded him, and he nodded, a slight smirk playing on his features.

"Oh I know. I need him dead, but then again, there's that ever so slight chance he might manage to worm his way out of his own, much needed execution. We have a mutual problem here Kate. Scott. You may want him alive now, but whatever your plan is, it will eventually need him dead. But should I fail, unlikely as it seems, well the boy will just get stronger. And then, you'll really struggle." He warned, mulling it all over in his head, and Kate stayed silent, thinking it over herself.

He did have a point. If he survived the current crisis, Scott would simply grow even stronger, all wolves got stronger by overcoming adversity, and he had already faced rather a lot. And as his pack grew in strength and power, he too would grow in strength and power. And if he did defeat Peter and Agravaine in the final hour, his power would grow much greater than ever before.

It was a double-edged sword really. While Scott advancing in power would help her and her father bring the two great titans of the supernatural world into conflict that much quicker, it also meant that when that happy time came for her and her dad to slaughter them all, it wouldn't be easy, not easy at all, in fact, it could well be suicide by that time.

"What are you saying?" she asked, jarring herself from her own thoughts, and Peter fixed her with an odd look, apparently the thought of saying what he was about to say was leaving a foul taste in his mouth.

"What I'm saying Kate is that we've both underestimated the boy once before, and it would be foolhardy to do so again. We've both been caught out by his ability to pull it out the bag at the last minute. I know both of us have our own, unique aims for our young True Alpha, but both of us still have the same problem: the young True Alpha himself. One wrong move, and all we've achieved goes flying out the window, all because of Scott and his stubborn refusal to die. And while Scott himself isn't a killer…well let's just say Derek, Jackson and the twins aren't nearly so sanguine, and you and I are both too pretty to allow ourselves to be killed by one of those posturing simpletons just because their Alpha is so uprightly noble. One wrong move, and we both fail. One wrong move, and we perhaps both die…again." He told her irritably, hardly believing that he was thinking of this, but the more he did, the more it made sense.

Scott was no common enemy, in fact, in his own way, he was actually extremely dangerous, and Peter was quite right that many of his enemies had underestimated him over the past few months. And, both he and Kate didn't exactly have reliable business partners, Kate had already suffered a betrayal at the hands of the Calaveras whereas he himself trusted Agravaine about as far as he could throw him.

"Wait, let me get this straight: you have me right where you want me, and have your master plan to finally kill Scott, all ready to go, but you want to hold off on the off chance that Scott might get the better of you once again?" she asked, trying hard not to laugh, but as she taunted him, she too saw where he was coming from.

Both she and him needed Scott, alive and dead, for different reasons. Both she and him had bene burned by underestimating Scott. And both of them had died once already and had no desire to do so again.

"Believe me, the thought doesn't exactly thrill me," he sneered, and she glowered at him acidly, "but I think it could be prudent if I had…insurance for want of a better word. Just in case the worst does happen, and Scott wins…and the absolute worse happens and I once more depart the land of the living with various holes where important parts of my body are meant to be."

"So you want me to act as your backup?" she asked derisively, trying and failing not to cackle, but she had to stop, it hurt to laugh, and he smiled genuinely for a change, and offered her his hand.

"Yes. I can make some educated guesses about what you need Scott for, and even if I win, I think I can help you bring about your endgame regardless. But if I lose, not that I intend to, but to be on the safe side, perhaps I should have another way, a backup, just to be on the safe side, just like I did before. And you could help me achieve that. And in return, I'll take you back to my place, and as there's numerous files and books there the likes of which your family hasn't seen, I daresay you could make some more plans while I help fix you up. And even if that doesn't help you, there's still the fact that you can't totally control your transformation. I can help with that too. What do you think?" he asked, and Kate looked at him suspiciously.

After all, this was Peter Hale, he was essentially deception and manipulation walking. But, that being said, he did have some points about all he had said, and she had to admit, working with the Calaveras hadn't exactly ended well for her. And if he did indeed have files that could help her and her father, then who was she to object? Especially if he could finally help her fully master her transformation, that would be…well let's just say she was seeing how this could be a mutually beneficial relationship.

"Ok…you're on. But, on one condition!" she warned, and he raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Kate, you seem to think we're equal partners in this, we're not. I after all, am the Alpha in waiting, whereas you're an animal barely able to control her transformations who would probably be dead by morning if it wasn't for me." He pointed out, and she snarled at him in challenge.

"Oh spare me your macho posturing," she spat, and he was a little taken aback at the venom in her voice, "all I mean is, if we do this, and we can find a way for my plans still to work…you make sure our adorable…little…" she purred in a sultry voice, approaching him, her green eyes glinting, "brown eyed Alpha….suffers!" she finished with a hiss, and he chuckled, taking her formerly wounded hand and kissing it, malice dancing in his eyes as he did so, savouring the sight of his new partner.

"Oh my dear Kate…I believe that can be arranged." He promised darkly, then offered her an arm as they solidified their new unholy alliance.

XX

It was now the morning after the night before, and the town had once again awoken to survey the damage did by the night of the living dead attacking once again. It was getting harder and harder to blame it on everything bar what it was, there was only so many times that they could blame drugged up youths or disgruntled biker gangs or whatever other excuse they had given the press this morning.

Parrish yawned tiredly, rubbing his hand across his face to try and wake himself up. It had been a bloody long night, in fact, ever since the prison break, everything had been a long night. However, there was one piece of good news that had come from on high, it seemed as though the vast majority of the prisoners who had escaped during Agravaine's jail break had now been accounted for. Now all that remained were; a few prisoners who had scattered to the four winds and likely wouldn't be found; one old man who had been imprisoned for the night to live out his fantasy of being arrested (he'd been arrested for ship lifting (first offence) and the old boy had seemed so excited they'd indulged him) and he was now in theory on the run, though happily living back at home with his wife, technically as a fugitive bless him; a couple of thieves who fancied themselves as a new age Bonnie and Clyde and would be arrested before the day was out as they were now trapped after holding a store hostage in Sacramento; a couple of fairly harmless white collar criminals; and lastly, the last of the Calaveras.

Parrish frowned as he looked over the report, more bodies of the Calaveras had turned up recently actually, and he, like the pack, was assuming that they had fallen afoul of the dogs, but something about them just didn't add up. Furthermore another couple of their dead had been found just this morning, meaning there had to be at most ten of them left in town, but that still didn't answer the question about where they had come from, or what had killed them, the wounds weren't consistent with the other actions of the dogs recently.

And that wasn't the only odd thing.

Last night, not long before Agravaine's wave of the undead hit the station, someone had phoned the station, alerting them to brewing trouble. Now, Parrish had heard from the sheriff, who was walking through the station looking like one of the revenants that had just been released on the town, exactly what had gone down at Eichen between the pack and Stiles, and while he had been told of Stiles' betrayal, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that there was more to it. And when you added in the fact that there had been a warning given to the police, the timing of which had allowed them to start to muster something of a defence before the first of the screaming had started, he was beginning to wonder if Stiles was indeed a traitor after all.

Let's face it, the dogs wouldn't have betrayed Agravaine and his intentions. True someone might just have seen him rallying his forces, but unless they were clued into the supernatural they wouldn't know what was really going on, and he couldn't imagine that the dead required much of a pep talk from their glorious leader. Either way, they'd been tipped off, giving them just enough time to make sure the dogs and their forces didn't cause untold havoc, just normal havoc.

So if it was indeed Stiles, what the hell was he doing?

And more importantly, did he know that Parrish had been able to track the call?

A problem with the phone lines last night had led to the caller, potentially Stiles, on the line on dead air before Parrish had actually answered, but that had been enough time to establish the call trace. And while he hadn't recognised the voice, the voice had been speaking quietly, and could well have been trying to disguise his voice in case it brought the pack after him.

But did Parrish trust that it was indeed Stiles, and even if it was, was he truly on the pack's side? He believed that if he truly had gone traitor he wouldn't be calling the police in order to give them a head's up. He knew that due to Stiles' possession it could well be a trick, but he could feel in his gut that it wasn't. And even then, the abruptness of the way the call ended would indicate that Stiles didn't want the call to be traced, but the phone mix-up had allowed Parrish to track him anyway.

So it all came down to one question: who's side was Stiles really on? Was he truly a traitor? Or was he perhaps going undercover (though admittedly not without much planning) and things had gotten out of hand?

At the end of the day, Parrish now had the location of the call, the old steel mill on the far side of town. And now that he came to think about it, it would be a perfect lair for Agravaine and his dogs, it was barely used, set in an old industrial estate now empty, so no one would notice them going in and out. What was more, it would be comfortable enough for the dogs all to stay in without issue. And he was pretty sure that if he planned out the pattern of the attacks caused in the two riots, it would most likely emanate from the steel mill.

Parrish smiled. This, this was a break. If he was right they finally knew where Agravaine's lair was, and even more so, if he was right about the whole thing Stiles wasn't a traitor, and had, though admittedly perhaps by accident, revealed the location of Agravaine's lair. All he had to do now was check up on his theory, and if it panned out, he could take it to the sheriff and to the pack, and hopefully get them a step closer to ending this chaos.

"Parrish, it's been a hell of a night, go home." The sheriff ordered tiredly, looking so much smaller and less himself due to Sties' actions, just like he had when Stiles had been possessed, but Parrish shook his head.

"Not yet boss, I think I have a bit of a breakthrough, I want to see if it pans out first. Go home, get some rest." He told him kindly, and John shot him a nettled look.

"Hey, I give the orders around here." He scolded, and Elba chuckled, stifling a yawn as he did so.

"Oh let him go John, it's a young man's game. Let him check his lead, you look dead on your feet old man. Come on, I'll drive you home." He said, and Parrish shot the older cop a thankful smile as he led a protesting sheriff out of his own station.

Parrish smiled and pulled a map of the town towards him, the sheriff, like the pack, could use some good news. And if he was right, he could well be about to give it to them.

XX

The town was on edge, everyone extremely nervous after the chaos of the night before. While the final cost had yet to be tallied up, there were several dead, which was simply adding to the gloomy, fearful aura of the town.

In addition to the gloomy atmosphere, there had been several outbreaks of looting, most likely as a result caused by the dog's wave of destruction and of course the fact that the town seemed determined to go to hell in a handbasket. Furthermore, on top of that there had been another spate of suicides and murders across the town, all fuelled by Agravaine's corruption of the Nemeton. Smoke was still wafting into the air as a result of the night before the next morning, as some exhausted members of the pack met in the early morning, looking around furtively as they did so.

It wasn't the fear of the dogs, or their actions that was making them act so furtively. Instead it was the guilt that they were all feeling by even planning on having this discussion in the first place.

Jackson was panting, looking ashen as he leaned against the wall outside of the Starbucks he had asked the others to meet them at. Danny was holding his arm, his expression frantic as he observed his best friend, who had sweat glistening on his forehead, his whole body shaking.

"Jackson, we should have met them at home, I wouldn't have minded. You can barely stand without me helping you." He said worriedly, dabbing at Jackson's head with a napkin that he'd taken when he had gotten them both their iced coffees, which were now sitting on the table beside them, which Danny helped his friend into, looking on worriedly as Jackson continued to shudder, now coughing as though he was trying his hardest to liberate a lung from his body. That wasn't all either, Jackson was now wearing gloves to hide the face that his infected arm had spread and now his hand was now totally black, tinged with yellow and green marks and was now even erupting into blisters. The blackened veins were creeping ever so slowly up his neck, heading towards where his brain would be housed. He desisted with his coughing, looking at Danny in exhaustion.

"See what I mean?" he asked weakly, his voice like a croak as he grasped for his coffee with a shaking hand.

"Jackson, we need to do something, if not…" Danny said worriedly, and Jackson gave him a look, and Danny noticed for the first time that his blue eyes were now also tinged with a sickly yellow viscera around his iris'.

"If not, I'm dead, it's like I've been saying for weeks, I need McCall to get a move on and help me figure this out, because if not, I'll be dead by the end of the week." He complained bitterly, though an angry voice then interjected.

"Why does everyone think Scott has to be the one to solve all the problems?" Aiden demanded irritably, sitting down at the table with them, Ethan close behind, though his eyes softened and he managed a small smile when he saw Danny, who smiled back. The two had been invited by Jackson, along with Lydia, to discuss recent events and their ever-growing problem with Scott's leadership.

Jackson, watching the two of them essentially have eye sex, rolled his eyes and looked grumpily at Aiden.

"Cause he's the Alpha, that's why. And at the end of the day, it's his fault this is happening, because even if by some miracle we stopped Agravaine, he wouldn't kill him, and I think that's the only way to save me." He explained, before giving way into another coughing fit, and while both twins looked kind of repulsed by him coughing (the smell, like death, like rot coming off him was becoming more and more noticeable), Danny, rubbing his back, looked up at them hesitantly, flinching at the harshness of Aiden's glare.

"And look, I know this isn't Scott's fault, we've got problems coming out of our ears, and we're all in this together. But at the end of the day, he's…he's failing guys, he's not doing too well. I mean Stiles betrayed us, Mason's dead, and the dogs have just blitzed the place all over again," he explained, gesturing to the damage that was quite visible even in this part of town, "and I'm sorry, but he's meant to be our Alpha, but Agravaine is kicking our asses, and Scott's just jot coping. Even if one of us came up with an idea, like killing Agravaine, we need Scott to support it for it to work, and he'll never support anything that kills someone, even a madman like Agravaine." Danny explained, trying not to be intimidated by Aiden's guttural, threatening growl.

"Not necessarily. I killed the Pombero and it's not like he threw me out the pack, and he has Derek, Jackson and the boys here all in the pack," Lydia stated as she appeared, looking distinctly unimpressed, and was wrapped in a white coat with matching hat, complete with a red scarf, "I think you're all holding that against him. Look, I agree, Scott's made a couple of missteps, but everyone suddenly seems determined to sell him down the river when it's not like they could do any better. Am I frustrated with some of the things he's done, yeah, sure. But at the end of the day, what all of you seem to be forgetting, is that Scott is the same age as us and is still learning to be an Alpha, his best friend was possessed and has now betrayed us, he lost his first love and has had to lead a pack when we're under constant attack by a pack of vicious dogs, the dead are rising all over town, Malia's vanished, and Mason's all been killed in the space of about four weeks. This isn't Scott's fault, and he's trying his best. So, rather than organising meetings behind his back to bitch about him and complain that he's not doing enough to stop Agravaine, maybe we should all be helping him try and find a way to stop the evil bastard." She snapped, getting increasingly angrier, and sending a filthy look at Jackson, though it did soften slightly when she saw how ill he looked, she then stood up, turned and stormed away.

However, purely in the spirit of having given certain people a tongue lashing, she turned and took a last look at the other four boys, and saw the proud and elated smile Aiden was sending in her direction. Trying and failing not to blush she scurried off, while Aiden's gaze was distracted from Jackson and his latest coughing fit by looking lustfully at where Lydia had disappeared.

"Easy for her to say, she isn't dying! Why does no one seem to grasp this? I'm dying here! Why is no one that concerned about that!?" Jackson stormed, and Danny rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"We are Jackson, we'll find a way, and you having a go at Scott just because he hasn't turned in the solution like a homework assignment isn't helping." He scolded, and Ethan shot Jackson a dirty look.

"Or maybe it's your winning personality." He sneered, and merely shrugged while Danny glared at him angrily.

Yeah, fair, he knew Jackson was high maintenance, a highly strung, obnoxious, arrogant pain in the ass, he'd always been that way. And the resulting insult to his ego by having to be saved by Scott in the first place, who took the lacrosse captaincy from him, made out with Lydia, and was a werewolf before him, compounded by the fact that he was really not happy that he'd unwittingly became Scott's Beta due to Isaac's defection, well all of that certainly wasn't helping. But he was still dying, and he could be forgiven for being more of an ass than usual.

"Look, McCall doesn't have a clue, and let's face it, out of those two testicles, Stiles is the one with the brain and without him, we're relying on him to come up with a bright idea? Never mind me being dead, the sun will have exploded by the time that happens!" Jackson shouted, and Aiden glowered at him, rising to his feet.

"Hey, you're the one who's so concerned. Scott, for whatever reason, cares about you. He isn't going to let you die, he doesn't want anyone to die, but if you're so concerned that Scott isn't good enough, go on, leave, go and become an Omega," he snarled, his eyes glowing blue, and Jackson growled himself, his own blue eyes, now tinged with yellow and poisonous, acidic green, glowing in defiance, as Ethan got to his feet and laid a hand on Aiden's chest to try and calm him down, "see how long you last without him to protect you."

Jackson sneered himself, looking smugly at Aiden.

"Yeah well, you had him to protect you and you still almost died. How long till that happens again? And let's face it, Scott was the Alpha when Allison died, and when Mason…" he said, and before anyone could say or do anything, Aiden's hand lanced out and slammed Jackson's face into the table, Jackson roaring in pain at the attack while Aiden stood and seethed.

"AIDEN!" Danny yelled as other customers started to look at them and mutter about them.

"You think you can do so much better, be our guest. This isn't Scott's fault, he's doing his best. And if you don't like it, don't like what he's doing, then leave. Scott is doing the best he can to keep us all alive, yeah, he might not be doing great, but he's the same as us, and none of us are doing any better. And remember, he's trying to find a way to find your ungrateful life, so maybe just shut up." Aiden warned, glaring at Jackson in distaste as Jackson recovered from the blow, getting to his feet despite Danny trying to restrain him.

Aiden however decided to choose that moment to turn and leave, leaving Jackson quivering in anger, and Danny and Ethan looking at each other tiredly, this was getting old. The pack was ripping itself apart, and it all came down to one main question: was Scott a good Alpha or not, and unless they got an answer soon, there wouldn't be a pack left to save.

XX

"A productive night all told my boy." Agravaine told Stiles, sipping from his hip flask, and Stiles cocked his head, interested despite himself.

Truth be told he didn't see how a second blitz was helping anything, all it had done was cause chaos. And furthermore, it also seemed that his own minor role in alerting the police as to what was about to happen had gone unnoticed (the phone problems last night certainly hadn't helped, he was worried they might have gotten a trace on him regardless of his precautions) so it hadn't been quite as effective as the evil, noxious breathed dog had hoped, not that he had noticed, they had still caused untold havoc.

Hang on, unless Agravaine knew he had sold them out, warned the police, and if he had he was dead!

"Productive? Productive how?" he asked, quite pleased that his voice didn't waver in fear, and kept his tone measured, and Agravaine flashed him an indulgent smile.

"Scott was once again proved to be found wanting, after all we've been here nearly two months now and we're still going strong, yet in that time, we've caused untold havoc, turned an army of the dead against his pack, divided his pack into two camps, and even managed to turn his best friend against him. Another strike will have cemented in the minds of your former compatriots one simple truth: that Scott cannot defeat me, and unless he admits defeat soon, all of them will die. He can't stop me, I have consistently proven this. Everything he does results in more of a defeat for him, and every time I get closer to destroying him, his pack will start to panic all the more. The more they panic, the less able to resist me he is," he explained, getting to his feet and slipping his flask back into his pocket, and wrapping an arm around Stiles' shoulders (Stiles tried and barely succeeded in not flinching, after all, he had murdered Mason with that hand) he led Stiles down from the sort of raised dais he had made his throne (for want of a better word) on, and into the wider area of the old, run down steel mill, Stiles highly aware of the hostiles glares of Thane and Malakai, and the strange, measured look that Bonnie kept giving him as she watched from one of the raised metal walkways where she was talking with Rhyley.

While the various dogs sent him hostile looks (Eoghan and Ciara were away amusing themselves in whatever foul depraved way they saw fit) Stiles walked with Agravaine, who continued to have his arm sprawled across Stiles' shoulders. Stiles begged his body to remain in control of itself, and though his skin wanted to crawl, while he wanted nothing more than to turn around and go all Nogitsune on this evil, perverted English psycho who seemed to have an almost unhealthy obsession with his best friend.

"You really think it'll work, just undermining him all the time?" Stiles asked sceptically, and Agravaine allowed himself a small smile.

"It's been working so far hasn't it? After all, here you stand." He pointed out, and Stiles guts did a somersault.

Why hadn't he just talked to Scott about all this, told him what he was going to do before he'd dug himself into this Grand Canyon sized hole that he'd gotten himself into? After all, if he wasn't careful, he'd eventually have the entire pack after him, while Scott would never kill him (he hoped), Isaac had already tried, it was a sport for Derek, the twins would happily do it…how had he gotten himself into this mess?

"Well yeah, but in fairness, you did threaten my dad." Stiles ground out, and Agravaine nodded, conceding the point, glaring at Malakai as he let out a low growl at Stiles' accusatory tone.

"That is also true, but I liberated you my boy, allowing you to give in to those dark urges inside you," he purred, gently stroking Stiles' cheek with the back of his hand, and Stiles tried to control the urge to rip his throat out, or to throw up, "to indulge that nice little bit of Nogitsune you have left within, that makes you so much better than your naïve little former Alpha."

Stiles swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest in fear and revulsion with himself, and god he prayed that Agravaine wouldn't notice, but he forced down the urge to run screaming back to Scott and beg his best friend to listen to him while he explained everything, but no, if he was serious about doing this, he needed to know more so between them, he and Scott could defeat Agravaine together just like they always did.

"So, you've turned everyone against him, or at least in the process of doing it. How does that help exactly?" Stiles asked, partly to keep his cover though also genuinely curious, he didn't get all that, he got trying to isolate Scott but if Agravaine thought that Scott would ever join him, no matter what he did, he was sorely mistaken.

"You've encountered that geriatric megalomaniac Gerard Argent have you not?" Agravaine asked in a soft purr, and Stiles scowled.

"We've met." He confirmed, thinking of the genocidally inclined maniac pitting everyone against each other still made him furious.

"He may be rather Nazi like in his attitudes, swinging his broadsword around," Agravaine lamented, and Stiles exchanged a look with Rhyley above him as it sounded like the youngest Gytrash had heard that explanation and his dirty mind had done the rest as he was hastily covering up a laugh as a cough, "but Gerard is right about one thing: the best way to eliminate a threat is to get someone else to do it for you." He explained, and Stiles nodded, well that did make sense, but…

"So you want the pack to weaken Scott?" Stiles asked, frowning, yeah, that made some sense, but even then it still didn't explain a lot of it.

"Correct to a point my dear boy. Do you know the best way to kill an Alpha? You get someone else to do it for you obviously, as I've said," he allowed himself a small, smug smirk, "but the way to do it is you isolate them from their pack. An Alpha without a pack is extremely easy prey. Scott's pack is now in the midst of turning him, a vote of no confidence if you will. Soon, he will be vulnerable." He promised, his eyes glinting with a sort of malicious, hungry desire, that chilled Stiles to the bone.

"But even with everything you've done," Stiles pointed out, rolling his eyes as Malakai growled at him as he was still standing quite close to Agravaine, "that shouldn't be enough to turn everyone against Scott, even though you corrupted the Nemeton, so how exactly do you plan to finish him off? Remember, other guys he's fought have gotten this far too, and he's the one still standing." He pointed out, trying to keep the pride out of his voice as he described his brother's accomplishments, and Agravaine chuckled.

"Correct, my efforts, though considerable, even abetted by my corruption spreading through town, aren't enough to have so thoroughly divided Scott's pack. But then, I'm not working alone, am I my friend?" Agravaine asked, and for a second Stiles thought he was speaking to him, but there was a noise from the shadows and a pair of glowing blue eyes emerged in the darkness.

And as the self-satisfied, smiling, smug face of Peter Hale materialised from the darkness and shook hands with Agravaine, Stiles felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

It was Peter, Peter who was behind it all. His mind suddenly exploded into action, everything that had happened ever since Jackson had shown up, it all made sense now!

Oh god…Agravaine wasn't the only big bad, he wasn't working alone.

It was Peter who was behind it all, behind all of it, Peter who was going around whispering in the ear of everyone in the pack, or at least enough people to set up a falling out with Scott when combined with the stress of the constant dog attacks and Jackson's ever approaching death sentence. Peter…Peter was working with the dogs, and if that was the case, there could only be one reason:

He wanted to be the Alpha again.

And Scott was the only thing in his way, and Scott was rapidly losing the confidence of his pack, something he himself had contributed to by faking his defection, and if Scott lost his belief in himself, between them, Peter and Agravaine would be able to…

And then Scott…

And then Satan in a v-neck himself, the most power-hungry maniac they had ever come across, would once more be the Alpha.

Oh…shit

The plot thickens, and Stiles plan to go undercover is paying off as he's realised the truth of the true big bad

Onto the next chapter, if you're enjoying, please read and review!