Chapter 81: The Detective III

Joe, what are you doing?

Every few seconds, Joe glanced down at the note in her hand.

'I AM ALIVE - XOXO ERICA'

She squinted at it, recognized the handwriting, glanced over at Isaac, then furrowed her brows.

"Erica's alive, right?"

"Erica's alive," Isaac confirmed, sounding like he had repeated the phrase a few times already. "Since she's technically still missing and the school is crawling with cops, we split up. She and Professor Walker went to find Deaton, remember?"

Joe bit her bottom lip. "Yeah..."

She glanced down at the note again. When she stared at it and did her best to get her sleep deprived brain to function, she could remember the last argument of whether or not they should split up. Erica had made it perfectly clear to Isaac that he couldn't let Joe out of his sight. By general agreement, he was driving Derek's SUV and Joe sat in the passenger seat.

Beacon Hills rolled by, just like any other day in existence, like it did not matter that Aunt Mel, Dad and Sheriff Stilinski were missing. Like it did not care if twelve people had been sacrificed and three more were in line. Like it was just a normal day.

Realizing she had a note in her hand, Joe glanced down at it with furrowed brows. She looked up at Isaac and he sighed deeply.

"Erica's alive."

"Oh," Joe said, staring at the words. "Right."

Isaac cleared his throat. "Just out of curiosity," he said slowly, looking between Joe and the road, "what is the definition of stage five?"

"Sleep deprivation psychosis," Joe answered without missing a beat. "Inability to interpret reality. Severe short-term memory loss. Frequent microsleeps and blackouts."

"That," Isaac swallowed and nodded his head, "does not sound good." He cleared his throat again. "Erica mentioned that if you got too bad, I should, uh, knock you out?"

Joe nodded and studied her trembling hands. "Mm."

"If it comes to that," his voice sounded thinner, "can we not tell Derek about it? Like, ever? I just," he shrugged, "have a feeling he'd have a problem with that."

"Yeah, sure-"

"Great!"

"-but you have to make sure you actually knock me out with the first blow." Joe looked over at Isaac, her dry eyes feeling heavy enough to fall out. "You won't get a second chance."

He bit his lips together in a tight smile. "Great. You wanna try calling Scott again maybe? Or literally anyone?"

Scott...

Joe got out her phone, noticed a note in her hand, studied it for half a second before shaking her head. It didn't make sense. It felt important though, so she put it in her pocket and tried calling Scott. No answer. Her dad? No answer. Jimmy? No answer. Same with Professor Kane, although Sarah had said she left several messages already. No answers.

Current status: two definitely missing, two possibly missing and one dying. Not the best numbers to work with.

"Don't stop, don't stop," Joe repeated to herself under her breath as Isaac drove them to the high school. If she stopped, she died. If she stopped, Cora died. If she stopped, they were all dead. She had to keep it going. "Don't stop."

"Are you okay over there?" Skepticism laced both Isaac's voice and face. "Because you don't sound or look okay. Where's your note?"

"What note?"

He blew air out of his mouth and pulled up outside the high school. "Oh, this is way beyond my paygrade. Come on, let's get this over with so we can get back and you don't need the note anymore."

The school was in session and Joe triple-checked her gun was as inconspicuous as she could make it before following Isaac inside. It had never occurred to her to get a permit for this gun like she had the shotgun and it didn't matter either as schools were strictly gun-free zones in this state. The students in the hallways paid her as much attention as she paid them. Background noise, they were irrelevant right now.

Isaac shot out an arm in front of her before they rounded a corner. "Wait."

Her body felt weightless as she stood watching him listen to something. It took a while and she might have slipped into a micro-sleep because his voice threw her off:

"The feds are looking for me." He had paled considerably and he flexed his jaw hard. "They have a list of people missing from the school and I'm on it." His brows pulled together as he concentrated. "Same with Allison. She never showed up today. Neither did Scott, but I guess we kind of knew that."

The concern was evident and Joe sighed. High school drama aside, someone had indicated Chris Argent as the third guardian sacrifice and it was probably something to take seriously. "You, uh, care about Allison, huh?"

"No." The answer came way too fast and he winced. "Okay, a little. Is that," he sounded unsure, "wrong? Or, I dunno, messed up?"

"I am so not the best judge right now," Joe mumbled, taking the opportunity to lean against the wall and catch her breath. "And I can't really fault her for having evil relatives because," Joe gestured to herself, "hey."

Isaac kept quiet for a while. "Sometimes the apple does fall far from the tree, you know."

"Yeah..." Joe made a face. "You and Derek spent a lot of time together this summer, right?"

His brows furrowed. "Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"Nothing, just... a tendency to spout bumper sticker worthy quotes. Tell you what, we don't have time for you to get picked up by the feds and I'm guessing your current living situation doesn't really stand a closer look either, so why don't you go check on Allison and I find Marin in the meantime?"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Absolutely not, but since there's no other Alphas around, I'm stepping in and giving you the order. Come on, we can even pretend it's because Scott wouldn't want to see Allison get hurt that you want to check up on her." Joe flapped her hands at him. "Go on. Shoo."

Isaac swallowed, glanced over his shoulder and around the corner again. "I really don't think I should leave you."

Shoulders slumping, Joe groaned. "Don't make me do the whole roar-thing, it makes me feel really creepy. Go, Isaac, I'll be fine. I got everything under control."

"You really don't."

"I got somethings under control."

"No, Joe."

"I can have you under control like," Joe snapped her fingers, "that."

Isaac sighed and glanced around the school, obviously keeping on the lookout for meddling FBI-agents. "Her dad's been tracking Jennifer's movements, he might know something about mistletoe-poisoning too." Isaac still hesitated, going back and forth a few steps in front of Joe who watched with heavy eyes. "It won't take long to just go check."

Rolling her neck, Joe pushed off from the wall and made Isaac look into her now red eyes. "Go. Come on, world's going to shit, Isaac, life's too short to not pursue happiness even if it comes in a slightly homicidal form with a fascist dad who wants your kind dead."

As he still hesitated, Joe started inhaling slowly, puffing up her chest. Like the big bad wolf, Joe thought, almost like watching herself from the outside, huffing and puffing and-

"Okay, okay, I'm going," Isaac nearly stumbled over his own legs going backwards, "but I'll be right back, okay? Just, uh, look at the note in your pocket-"

"What?"

"-and call me if anything happens. But stay here!" he yelled and practically ran out of the school. She thought he heard him mutter something like: "He's gonna kill me."

It might have been 'She's gonna kill me', but that didn't make any sense. Joe stared at his retreating form, checked her pocket, saw the note and squinted at the words.

Weird.

Oh well, clock's ticking and the world was going to hell, so she better get a move on herself.

Why had she stopped in the hallway? Joe looked around but didn't see any immediate reason. She shrugged. Making sure the gun was concealed, Joe headed for the guidance counselor's office.

"You have got to be kidding me," she swore under her breath when she reached the empty dark office. "Goddamn druids."

She went inside anyway, but it was a small office without many possibilities to hide and it was, as she expected, completely empty. Leaning on the desk, Joe tried to catch her breath again, tried to sort out her thoughts before everything dissolved into one long howl threatening to come out of her mouth.

The door opened and Joe automatically reached back, but froze when seeing the inexplicably tall shadow of Uncle Raf, still wearing his FBI-badge around his neck. Deflating, Joe sank down into Marin's desk chair and nodded to greet her uncle.

"Yo."

"Yo yourself. Miss Morrell never showed up for work today," he said casually as he filled out the entire doorframe. He checked his notebook. "And considering how this school has lost four teachers and two students this semester, the administration reported it to us immediately. You know her?"

"Yeah, I know her."

"How?"

"Uh..."

He raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile. "Intimately?"

"I wish," Joe mumbled and picked at the frayed edges of her dad's jacket. She hoped Sarah had more luck with Deaton, but she doubted it. Professor Kane, now Marin — it was like the druids could smell a storm coming and had fled, just like rats off a sinking ship. "But no. We're just... friends."

Uncle Raf sighed and came inside the office, closing the door behind him to shut out the general hubbub of a high school between periods. "Scott never showed up for school today. Neither did," another glance at the notebook, "Allison Argent, Isaac Lahey, Ethan and Aiden Steiner, Vernon Boyd, Jennifer Blake," he didn't notice Joe's flinch and put the book away to look at her, "and I can't get hold of Melissa. Josie, what's going on?"

It was a wonder the desk didn't catch on fire with the intensity Joe glared at it. "Have you reached my dad yet?"

The silence from Uncle Raf's side was deafening. "No."

"Shit." Joe leaned her head back, to make the tears run back into her eyes. The Argent-name was a decoy. Now she had a set of three parents. Sucking in a harsh breath, Joe leaned forwards in the chair. "Do you know where they're keeping Jimmy?"

"No," Uncle Raf admitted slowly. "Rob works for one of those covert secret parts of the bureau. I don't have clearance, which he makes sure to rub in my face every time I see him. Why are you so sure something's wrong? It's not unlike Rob to go days without contact when he's working. Does it have to do with everyone else that's missing? The Sheriff?"

When she kept quiet and only stared at the floor, he said in a soft tone: "Josie, I can't do my job unless you let me know what's going on. I can't help you unless you tell me what you know."

"It's nothing," Joe said because the last thing she needed was Uncle Raf becoming another potential sacrifice. She always planned for four, after all. Always had an extra victim in backup. Stiles, Boyd, and Isaac for the virgins, warriors, and werewolves. Deaton and Joe for the healers and philosophers. "I don't know anything."

"You're a lousy liar, Nosy Josie," Uncle Raf said, but without any edge in his tone. "You get some sleep yet? You know what's real or not? Are you sure your dad arrested Jimmy? Are you sure Jimmy even exists? Are you sure this is real? Are you sure you're real? What really happened the night of the full moon? Who helped Erica, Joe? Why can't you sleep?"

Joe blinked up at him and he only raised his eyebrows in return. "What?"

"Did you catch some Z's?" he asked, again in the tone of voice that indicated he was repeating himself. "You look like shit, kid."

"Thanks," she said and shook her head, hoping to make the mess fall into place. "Can I ask you something? Did Dad ever tell you anything about my mom? Like, anything at all?"

His eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. "Wow, regressing back to middle-school, Jose? You know I don't know anything, this was before the academy."

"Yeah, but like," Joe leaned forward, blinking her heavy eyes open, "guys talk, right? He must have mentioned her at some point? I mean, I was there, you know he didn't give birth to me himself, you must have asked at some point what the full story was."

Raf sighed slowly. "It's been a while since you asked me about her. Something happen?"

A lot, Joe thought, but shook her head. "Did he ever say anything about, uh, if she loved him?" Her bottom lip felt raw from the way she kept biting at it. "Like you and Aunt Mel, you're split up, but you still care for her, right? If she went missing-"

"She is missing, kid."

"-you'd help look for her, right? Well, obviously because you're a Fed, but also because she's the mother of your son and you care about her because you loved her once and-"

"Hey." Uncle Raf leaned more heavily against the doorway with his arms folded. "You're rambling." His voice maintained the softness, one she knew from childhood. "Take a second, gather your thoughts. There's no rush."

Except it was definitely a rush. They were running out of time and Joe had no idea what to do anymore. She leaned forward on her knees, not even tears wetting her dried and burning eyes. "I just really need to talk to-"

By chance, her eyes landed on a folder on the desk.

"Talk to?"

The folder had her name on it.

"To Jimmy."

It made her lose her train of thoughts to whatever she was going to say and she kept mum.

Unfortunately, despite what Stiles might think of the matter, Uncle Raf was actually a good agent and he spotted the obvious discrepancy to her story. "So you came here?"

"I, uh, yeah." She did not have the capacity to think of a lie. Her eyes kept darting back to the folder clearly labeled 'Josefina'. "I came here."

With a sigh, Uncle Raf came to perch on the desk and he flipped open the folder while ignoring her shocked yelp. He must have seen where she was looking. Instead of a detailed report laying out all of Joe's issues, the folder contained nothing but a single post-it with a written message.

"Do the right thing?" Uncle Raf read aloud while Joe stared at the letters. He glanced at her, but luckily her face betrayed nothing but the genuine confusion she felt. "That mean anything to you?"

"No," Joe answered because it was the truth. Do the right thing? What the hell was that supposed to mean? God, she hated these druidic assholes who could not for the life of them speak plainly. "No, it doesn't."

She reached out to pluck the post-it from the folder and turned it over, but there was nothing else on it. Marin hardly seemed like the kind of person to resort to invisible ink and Joe did not have a blacklight readily available either. It was probably not the worst advice she could have gotten, but it was the most useless.

Do the right thing.

Her phone buzzed and saved her from making another comment. A text message from Stiles. Chris Argent allowed himself to be taken. So she had four guardians now. Four plus one. Always four plus one.

"You okay, kid?"

"No. I gotta go."

"Where?"

"I don't know!" Joe cried out after having leaped out of the chair. "I don't have a clue, Raf! I don't, I'm sorry."

Uncle Raf followed her out of the office. "Whoa, hey, kid, calm down-"

"I can't! I have to do something, anything, I just have to."

Joe tried to breathe and keep breathing, but it was just so hard. She never wanted this. Never signed up for this. And of course, her mind, her treacherous mind, reminded her that neither had anyone else. Boo hoo hoo, Joe. Life's tough? Are you the one being held to be ritually sacrificed tomorrow night? Are you the one coughing up black ooze and on the brink of death? No. So quit whining and function!

"I just have to do something," she repeated, disgusted at her own tears again, and would have found the distraught look on Uncle Raf's face funnier if the situation had been different. "I don't know wh-"

She froze.

Uncle Raf had followed her out in the hallway and had his back to the guidance counselor's office, which was a good thing, as currently Stiles and Lydia were sneaking in there. Joe caught Stiles' eyes and he mimed quite clearly the words: 'Distract him!'

"Uncle Raf!" Joe shrieked when he turned to see what she was looking at, but was forced back when she grabbed his arm. Okay, so far so good, but she had no plan beyond that. "Uh... Scott?"

Uncle Raf leaned down as if hard of hearing. Behind him, Stiles and Lydia slipped into the office and closed the door with a soft click. "What?"

"Have you talked to Scott?" she asked, already hating this conversation, but knew it was a soft spot for her uncle. It was the reverse of her situation. In her case, she cut off her dad, but in Scott's case, his dad cut off him.

A tender flicker over Uncle Raf's face. Regret, anger, fear — a lot of emotions in that brief second of weakness. "No, I told you. He never showed up for school today."

"What are ya gonna say when ya see him?" Joe tried to sound innocent and interested, her eyes darting to the office door on the other side of the hall. Uncle Raf sighed deeply, and as a big man, that was pretty deep.

"I don't know," he admitted and ran a hand through his hair. Same color as Scott's, but different texture. "I'd ask you for suggestions, but you're the only one I know who's worse at this than I am."

She shrugged. "Being honest will probably help." Her face fell at the thought, of how her dad could have avoided a lot of his if he'd just been honest with her from the start. "Scratch that. Being honest always help."

"Depends how bad the truth is."

"That's not for you to decide," Joe said and felt like a hypocrite for some reason. "Just take it slow, Uncle Raf. Don't expect it to be sunshine and flowers and playing catch in the backyard from day one. Aunt Mel tell you Scott made first line?"

A wistful smile fell over his face. "She did. I've never even seen him play. Is he good?"

"He's," Joe folded her arms, trying to stay focused when Lydia and Stiles emerged from the office, "improved a lot this last year." Her eyes narrowed when Stiles held up what looked like an upside-down drawing of a tree to her and made some gestures she had no idea what meant. "He's actually team captain. I think at least he's still team captain. I haven't really paid attention lately."

"Yeah, she told me," Uncle Raf said and sounded proud where Joe tried to indicate to Stiles she didn't understand his impromptu sign language. "He's come a long way since you knocked his shoulder out of socket when you tried to teach him that good ol' McCall shoulder check."

"It's the Delgado check," Joe corrected automatically as Rafael and her dad both claimed credit for developing it when they were in training.

Stiles was currently gesturing to the drawing, to Lydia, and miming driving a car. His eyebrows were up high and impatient. Joe must have stared too long as Uncle Raf turned around.

"Stilinski," he said and Stiles' face dropped. "You got a sec?"

"Not really, but I'm feeling I don't have a choice," Stiles bit out and had the audacity to glare at Joe like it was her fault. He stuffed the drawing into Lydia's hands and went with Uncle Raf, still gesturing to Joe that she was supposed to drive somewhere.

With raised eyebrows, Joe went up to Lydia, who did not look pleased to see her. Not strange considering the last time she'd learned Joe killed Erica. Instead of delving into that, Joe picked the drawing out of her hands. "What's this?"

"A clue," Lydia said in a clipped tone. "Stiles says Jennifer is keeping them at the Nemeton. He wants us to go to Derek. Apparently, he and Peter know where this place is. Something about a root cellar. I don't know."

"She gets her power from the Nemeton," Joe mumbled and traced the line drawing with her finger. It still looked like an upside-down tree. She looked up at the perturbed redhead. "You got a car?"

Not sounding too happy about it, Lydia announced that she did. It was hard to tell if her unhappiness came from losing Stiles or because Joe looked just as delusional as she currently was.

Joe followed her out to the parking lot — the sun was starting to set now and it was hard to avoid thinking how she had wasted an entire day. Time had gone by fast — too fast — and she had to suspect she had suffered more of those microsleeps or just general blackouts. Not a comforting thought.

Why did she think of Isaac now all of a sudden? Joe stopped dead on the way to Lydia's car and checked her pocket. She had two notes. One made less sense than the other and she kept reading them as she walked.

"Are you coming?"

"Yeah," Joe said and put the notes back in the pocket of her jacket. "Yeah, I'm coming."

In the car, Joe felt the weightlessness of microsleeps until Lydia started the engine and Joe snapped back out. Ignoring the curious look Lydia sent her, Joe got out her phone instead.

"Hey, Dad, it's me. Again. Uh, not sure if you're currently being held captive by a lunatic or if you're just working, but in case it's the latter, you should know that Aunt Mel's been taken. Please call me back. Now. It's Joe. I, uh, love you."

Trying to avoid Lydia's questioning gaze as they drove back downtown, Joe dialed another number. "Hi, Jimmy, it's Joe. Again. I hope you're okay. Uh, I could really use your help here. If you got my last voicemail, you know she took Aunt Mel. The Darach. If you're locked up somewhere, I guess you're not much help. But, uh, I also get if you took off. This isn't your fight. It's, uh, been great knowing you. Bye."

Without a word, Lydia reached into a compartment in the mid-console and brought out a tissue. Mumbling her gratitude, Joe accepted it and wiped her face before blowing her nose. Breathe, just breathe. It was a little easier without a clogged nose.

"Stiles says you're some kind of expert-"

Joe snorted.

"-on the supernatural. Or at least the folklore-part of it." Lydia drummed her fingers while they waited at a red light. She sounded like she was trying to sound nonchalant. "What do you know about, say, banshees?"

Not feeling like anything useful at the moment, Joe pulled in a breath and said: "Wailing women. Pre-Christian folklore in all of Great Britain. Foretells death, pretty much. Probable origin is keeners, who're women who sing songs of lament at funerals."

"That's it?" Lydia did not sound too impressed. "They just scream before someone dies?"

"Look, any Pre-Christian myths have been watered down so much during the centuries that it's hard to find any actual truths. There are some old texts that suggest that soldiers would abandon a battle when they heard the cry of a banshee, thinking they were about to die. Ironically, they would usually be killed by their own armies for desertion."

Sighing, because Lydia still did not look appeased and Joe could not for the life of her figure out why she wanted to know about these things, she continued: "They come in many different forms. Either as an old woman dressed in green with permanently red eyes from crying or as a headless woman who's always naked from the waist up — that's a surefire sign the legend's written down by a man, always gotta have naked breasts in there somewhere, nevermind a head — or as a deathly pale woman with long, wild red hair."

As Lydia pulled up outside the industrial apartment building where Derek's loft was at the top, she turned slowly to Joe. "I am not deathly pale."

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Joe found the courage to ask: "Are you a banshee?"

"Apparently," Lydia said and got out of the car. Joe followed suit. "At least that's what Miss Blake said before she tried to strangle me with a garotte."

"A garotte, huh? That explains the-" Joe pointed to her own neck. Since Lydia was walking quickly towards the building, Joe was spared any withering glares her way. "So, do you do a lot of screaming?"

"I do a lot of finding dead bodies."

"Okay," Joe said, in lack of anything else. At this point, a banshee was the least of her worries.

They took the elevator up in silence while Joe tried to fit her mental image of a banshee onto Lydia Martin, all five feet and three inches of her. She was a dark strawberry-blonde and did have pale skin, but as she said, not deathly pale. Good thing Joe never mentioned one of the Scottish versions where the banshee has one nostril, a large protruding front tooth, and long pendulous breasts. Again with the breasts, Joe thought with a roll of her eyes.

They reached the top floor and before they could even begin to open the door, it slid open to reveal Peter Hale on the other side. He seemed frozen in place at the sight of Lydia.

"You," said Lydia, in more shock than disgust. Joe raised her eyebrow until remembering that Peter had essentially brainwashed Lydia to resurrect him. This had to be their first time meeting each other after that. Joe found herself squaring her feet a bit more, in case he tried anything.

Peter winced and did a half-shrugging motion. Not any imminent danger of him attacking. "Me."

"You."

He sighed. "Me. Derek, we have visitors."

Peter gestured for them to come in, even if his glare lingered a little longer at Joe. "How did your quest in finding help elsewhere go? You seem to have lost all your little helpers."

"What?"

He smiled at her, but looked a bit perplexed. Joe ignored him.

"As far as I can tell, all the Emissaries are missing," she said and sat down at the steps by the sliding door.

As expected, Derek was still by Cora's bed, now sitting under the window. He had looked up when Lydia entered. She felt his eyes briefly travel across her form, but he said nothing. Her heart skipped and she hoped he didn't hear it.

"Where's Erica and the she-wolf?" he asked and Joe's eyes snapped open again. "And Isaac?"

Her voice trembled. "What?"

A silence followed where Lydia just shook her head at the questioning gaze Derek sent her.

"Do you remember," Peter asked slowly, circling her where she sat with his hand under his chin, "that you came here this morning?"

It took some effort, but Joe nodded. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

He continued pacing. "Do you remember who you left with?"

"Uh..." Her trembling hands took all her focus and she stuffed them into the opposite armpit. "Sarah? Sarah Walker."

"And?"

Derek's voice came in a warning tone: "Peter."

"Sh," Peter shushed him and leaned forward to study Joe. "Tell me, what happened with Erica?"

A growl in Derek's voice. "Peter."

"I- I," Joe stuttered, staring out into thin air. What happened with Erica? What had she done to Erica? The thought made her want to scream. "I killed her. In the forest."

"What? But Stiles said-"

"Sh!" Peter shushed again and Lydia snapped her mouth shut. "You killed Erica, Joe? When?"

Eyes burning, head throbbing, heart aching and Joe tried to think. "Night of the full moon. I think, I don't, I-" Her voice came impossibly tight. "I didn't mean to, I swear I-"

"Wow," Peter said slowly, sounding more in awe than anything else. "They really did a number on you, didn't they?"

"What?"

Peter blew air out through pursed lips. "This is more than regular insomnia, Josefina. You are really off the deep end here. Who knows," he came closer, tilting his head to look at her, "what kind of things they filled your mind with? This won't be fixed with a good night's sleep I'm afraid."

That was as far as he got before a hand clamped over his shoulder and yanked him back. Joe caught a glimpse of red as Derek snarled in Peter's face, physically pushing him away.

"That's enough." There was no room for argument in Derek's voice and Peter grudgingly stepped back. Still mostly staring at her hands, Joe didn't realize how close Derek was before he covered them with his. His hands were warm and steady, the direct opposite of hers. "Joe, hey."

It took a lot to even look at him. "I swear, Derek, I didn't-"

"I know," he said quickly, cutting her off and he did that thing where he rubbed the back of her hand and Joe closed her eyes briefly. "Hey, Joe?"

Her eyes snapped back open to see him still looking at her — had she blacked out?

"It's okay. You're okay." Derek glanced at the hallway behind her and got that slightly unfocused look. "Give it a minute."

"A minute?"

It took less than a minute. The elevator doors opened and Derek let out a quick breath of relief. Joe turned to see what he did and her brows furrowed.

"Judging by that expression," Erica said breezily, "the note didn't work. I told you we shouldn't have split up." She scanned the room. "Where's Isaac and why is she here?"

"Jesus, you almost had me fooled," Lydia said with a glare directed at Joe. "Hi, Erica."

"Bite me, Lydia," Erica replied instantly and flung herself down on the steps next to Joe. "Don't pretend we're friends when you've been sleeping with one of the guys who captured and held us in a vault for four months."

Lydia's lips moved, but no words came out and she slunk back with a shameful expression. "Fair point."

"Where the hell is Isaac?" Erica snapped, leaning forward to get into Joe's line of vision. "If he left you, I'm gonna kill him."

"I told him to leave. Blake got Allison's dad," Joe mumbled and ignored Erica's muttering of only an idiot would take orders from Joe right now. "She has all the guardian sacrifices. Did you find Deaton?"

"No, he's gone." Sarah had come up and lingered in the doorway, not sparing any of the others a glance. "We tracked him for as far as we could, but the druids are adept at hiding. I take it you had no more luck with Marin?"

"No, she's gone."

"Not that unexpected," Peter piped up. "If Deucalion promised Scott the safe return of his mother in exchange, like he promised Cora to you, he could be hunting down all druids around to see if they can tell him where they are."

"We know where they are," Lydia interrupted, but Joe did not see or listen to them as she explained. Even if Derek held onto her hands, her focus went more to Cora in the bed.

The youngest Hale looked to be so close to death Joe had to concentrate to see her chest move with each shallow breath. The black markings on her lips were gone, probably cleaned off by her brother. Sweat covering her skin, from forehead to chest. Whimpering less now, and Joe wondered if Derek had taken some of her pain.

She had no idea how it worked, but she could generally not feel if Derek siphoned pain into himself. Not that she could feel any of his pain now with her guard so firmly up, but she had not felt it when they performed the impromptu surgery on Jimmy. Sarah had taken Joe's pain, but only after she had pulled so hard she had physically brought injuries upon herself. Pain pain pain. It was all about pain.

Something snapped in front of her and Joe's hand shot out, grabbed the arm in a vice-like grip and twisted upwards.

"Ow, ow, ow," Peter Hale said, managing to sound sarcastic even when obviously straining with having his arm near torn out of position by Joe. "I was only trying to get your attention."

"I warned you," Erica said, completely serious.

With a huff, Joe released Peter and slumped back on the steps. She'd zoned out again and apparently even let go of Derek as he had returned to sit next to Cora. She hated the way he looked at her. Like she was something pitiful. Weak. Pathetic.

"They say they don't remember where the Nemeton is." Lydia sounded accusing and had her arms folded over her chest.

"I said," Peter corrected while he massaged his shoulder at a safe distance from Joe, "that Talia removed the memories of its location."

Without thinking, Joe touched the back of her own neck. No scars, at least not on the outside.

"Your sister was skilled with her claws," Sarah commented drily. "Wasn't she?"

Peter smiled. "Just like yours?"

A low rumbling growl rose from Sarah, one that Peter firmly ignored.

"And then I said, I know someone who knows the Preserve better than anyone," he continued in a condescending tone. "Which is why I wanted to ask Josefina if she's heard from Jimmy yet."

Joe just shook her head and let her hand fall from her neck, not even registering the trembling that had dwindled down into nothing. Erica sat next to her, holding onto her free hand.

"Okay, but," Lydia's voice was falsely optimistic, "if you're an expert, Joe, what do you know about Nemetons? Can we find it?"

"Nemeta," Joe corrected automatically, mostly just staring at Cora's shallow breathing over in the bed. "They're sacred spaces, usually in the form of trees. Can find evidence of them as far north as Scotland and as far east as Turkey. First recorded by the roman Poet Lucan."

Her eyes closed and when she spoke, she was not sure if she was dreaming or not. "No bird nested in the Nemeton, nor did any animal lurk nearby; the leaves constantly shivered though no breeze stirred."

As she talked, the sky darkened outside, night settling over Beacon Hills.

"Altars stood in its midst, and the images of the gods. Every tree was stained with sacrificial blood. The very earth groaned, dead yews revived; unconsumed trees were surrounded with flame, and huge serpents twined round the oaks. The people feared to approach the grove, and even the priest would not walk there at midday or midnight lest he should then meet its divine guardian."

By the time she was done, the apartment was cast in long shadows. At least until Peter switched on the table lamp. "Thank you for setting the ambiance, Josefina, but completely useless otherwise."

"Oh my god, shut up," Erica moaned from next to Joe. "Jeez, everything Jimmy said makes perfect sense now."

"And what, pray tell, did the young Mister Carter hav-"

"Shut up," Joe said quickly, as there was something nudging the edge of her brain. A sound. Her eyes went to Derek first, but flickered up to the window behind him. Sarah took a small step forwards, probably hearing the same thing.

"I only sa-"

"Shut up," Derek said now and Peter and Erica both fell quiet. Joe had risen without thinking, moving closer to the window and trying to make out a faint, but distinct sound. "What do you hear?"

Behind her now, Peter made an impatient sound. "I thought you said she didn't have our hearing."

"I don't," Joe mumbled and closed her eyes as if shutting off one sense would enhance the other. It was a long-drawn-out sound, not as intense as when Ennis died, but still present. "But I hear her. I can hear her... howling?"

"Hunting," Sarah said in a hard voice. "They're hunting. Can you hear it? What she's saying?"

"There's no words, but..." Joe tried to make sense of it. Raw emotions, that's what Cora had said. She tilted her head like she had seen both Derek, Jimmy and Scott do when concentrating. "They're chasing something. Someone." Her eyes flew open. "We gotta go."

A hand closed around her wrist to stop her from leaving. She had subconsciously come to stand right next to Derek.

"Joe," Derek said and she forced herself to look at him. Things were weird now, chaotic, including her mind and heart. It did not melt away when he touched her, even if his hand felt like a licking tendril of fire. "We're running out of time. There's a way to save Cora. I can do it, but it'll affect both of us."

"It's a suicidal way," Peter supplied helpfully, but neither she nor Derek made any move to look at him.

The elation of hearing there was a cure died away at Peter's words though. She tried to remain calm when looking at Derek, meeting his bright eyes without letting her gaze flicker around. Voice steady, even though he could probably hear her hard beating heart just fine, she asked: "Will it kill you?"

"No," he said with a small tug on his lips, not quite a smile, but not far off. His hand shifted to hold around her palm instead of her wrist. "It won't kill you either. But it'll take away that spark, the one that makes me an Alpha."

"And, by correlation, you, Josefina," Peter said, helpful as always. He raised his voice before Joe found hers. "And you might not care, either of you, but let me remind you again of Kali's ultimatum. Neither of you stands a chance against her as betas."

"Let me deal with Kali," Joe repeated herself from this morning. She let go of Derek's hand, already missing the warmth. "Do whatever you have to do." She looked at Sarah, who had undoubtedly heard the same thing as she did. "Let's go."

"Am I speaking into the void here?" Peter asked again, incredulous, and physically blocked Joe's path back to the doorway. "In the hope of your survival instincts being more finely tuned than his, don't forget that we don't actually know what will happen if Kali kills him. We don't know if that will kill you too."

She tried to step around him, but he side-stepped her easily. "Let me deal with Kali."

"Even if you, by some miracle, manage to beat a decades-older Alpha with your half-wolf beta strength, do you really think you'll be able to do it? Kill your mother to save your mate? Those are two strong bonds to break, Josefina."

"I'll kill you if you don't get out of my way."

Peter smiled, but there was no warmth. "Funny, I can't tell that you're bluffing."

"She's not." Erica had risen on the steps, eyes glowing in the bright golden yellow. "So back off."

"Oh, that is adorable," Peter said, his lips pulling up in a smile. "What are you? Fifteen years old?"

Erica's claws came out with a faint snip and Joe helplessly looked at Derek for assistance. This was his world. She had just fallen into it. He rose to stand next to her, giving her a nod. At least he hadn't lost all his abilities to read her mind.

"Erica," he said, voice a hundred times steadier than Joe could ever be, "not now. Peter, last chance or I'm kicking you out. You're not helping." Both werewolves stood down, even if Erica made a face just to demonstrate her unwillingness. A sigh passed through Derek and he gently touched Joe's arm, lowering his voice as if not everyone in the loft could hear anyway. "Are you sure?"

"We gotta do something," Joe murmured, blinking with heavy eyes at him. "I don't even like being an Alpha. If it saves Cora, it's worth it."

His hand slid down her arm until it found hers again, entwining their fingers carefully. "Okay. What are you going to do when you find the Emissary?"

"I don't know, Derek," Joe said and heard how tired she sounded even to herself. She gave him another weak shrug. "There's no plan. There's no getting ahead of these people. We planned for weeks to get out of the vault and the only reason it worked was because they let it work and that was with Jimmy and now I don't have him, so..."

He looked so tired and Joe wished they had the luxury of just resting. With the lunar eclipse tomorrow, there was no time.

"No plan. No great plot twist. Doesn't matter if we stop being Alphas if it saves Cora."

Before Derek could reply, Erica chimed in from the sideline: "Just out of general curiosity and I am a hundred percent onboard with saving Baby Hale, but what happens to us? Do we all become Omegas or what?"

"I guess you'll join Scott's pack?" Joe guessed, silently asking Derek to confirm it and he shrugged.

"Wait, what?" Erica's eyebrows rose. "Scott McCall? He's an Alpha? Scott killed someone? Scott McCall?"

"No, no," Peter shook his head, "he's a True Alpha."

"I don't know what that-"

Sarah's breathless voice came. "Someone who does not have to steal or inherit the spark. It's part of the universe's way to restore balance. It happens maybe once every hundred years." She looked sick. "That explains a lot."

"Explains what?" Derek asked.

"Why Deucalion wants him. It's not just about power. It's more psychological in nature." Sarah pulled in a sharp breath and ran a hand through her sleek hair. "I suppose it's more akin to jealousy, in fact." She looked directly at Joe. "The last True Alpha I've heard of..."

For once, it was Derek who caught on first. "Was Deucalion."

You're killing her! Stop!

The only good thing coming out of being too delusional think was that her body took over and her instincts guided her into the Preserve. It did not come as a surprise when Sarah removed her shoes when they reached the forest as Joe had already done the same.

"What's your real name?" Joe asked and ignored Erica's comment about toenails being gross. "It's not Sarah Walker, I know that much."

Sarah's eyes glowed yellow as she used her senses to find a direction. For a while Joe didn't think she would answer, but eventually she said: "Sierra. But I've been known as Sarah for decades now."

"Sarah, Sierra," Joe said, testing out the combination. "I can get that. Where does the Walker come from?" With her obvious mixed heritage, Sarah did not look like a 'Walker'.

Another hesitation and she spoke in a hush: "I took it when I married Bridget. It's a play on words."

It took both Joe and Erica a second to work this one out and Erica reacted first: "Kane and Walker. Really? Like, a cane and a walker? Oh my God. I thought lesbians were supposed to be cool, but you guys are just not."

Joe just stared at Sarah/Sierra. "Really?"

"At the time, it would have been too confusing to have two female professors with the same surname at the same institute. At the time, it seemed," Sarah shrugged, "clever. My real-"

"I know what it is," Joe cut her off with a curl to her upper lip, "and I'm not gonna talk about it right now. If we survive, we're gonna have a long talk about it. At this rate, you practically have to write my dissertation to get on my good side again. Let's go, Walker."

No smell, no hearing, but Joe followed the two others without question — Kali's howl had stopped, but something inside of Joe still managed to triangulate from where the sound had come from. Just like at the clinic, where she had just let her body take over without interference from the rational side of her brain.

Instead of finding Kali, they found where she had been.

"Blood." Sarah had them pause in the dark forest and looked at Erica. "Can you smell it?"

Erica just nodded, some of her bravery wavering. They both seemed to be listening intently. "I hear two sets of heartbeats. One human, one-"

"Werewolf?" Joe guessed and reached back for her gun. "Which one?"

"Marin's running." Sarah's eyes were closed, fluttering as she apparently took in the whole forest through her enhanced senses. "She's injured. Callie's on her trail. Moving fast."

"You guys find Marin and get her to safety," Joe ordered, not even having to think about it. "I'll hold off Kali."

"Joe, no, wait-"

Joe had already taken off running.

If she turned off her mind, if she just followed her instincts, she somehow knew where to find Kali. No hearing, no smells, nothing but the vibrations under her bare soles and something inside of her that lead her in the right direction.

It should have occurred to her that Kali had the same instincts.

"Oof!"

The force Kali came out of the dark slammed them both to the ground, but where Kali bounded back onto her feet, Joe remained on her back.

"Oh really?" Kali drawled, a shadow moving in a circle around Joe. "That's all you got?"

"No."

Pushing off the dirt, Joe span around and swept her legs at Kali's. She hit air, but it threw Kali off balance and gave Joe the chance to throw herself around, one foot out to kick at Kali's chest.

It left Joe too open and Kali grinned — white teeth practically glowing in the dark — and jammed her heel into Joe's sternum. Seeing stars, Joe flew back so her back crashed into a tree trunk.

"Come on, Sefina." Kali stalked in a wide circle, eyes glowing a dark red and her foot claws scraping in the leaf-covered ground. "I thought we were on the same side."

Joe gritted her teeth together and sprang up again. Too slow — way too slow — and Kali just stepped sideways, letting Joe fly forward into the air. A missed hit costs twice as much as one that lands and Joe landed on the ground, face first into the dirt.

"You think you can take me? Now? Look at you, you can barely stand."

It wasn't an understatement. Joe swayed when getting back up, knowing her eyes glowed red, the same red as Kali. She swallowed heavily, gulping in air. "I'm not letting you kill Marin."

Kali's smile widened and she continued the slow circle, having Joe pivot to keep her in her line of sight. "Who says I'm after the little druid? Your cousin," she did not like that word, "posed an ultimatum. She lives. For now."

"Then why did you chase her?"

"Because I wanted to find," Kali span around, "you."

Joe dodged, but just barely and Kali laughed.

"Did you come alone? That's not very smart. Where's your mate? Have you forgotten that you're stronger together?" Kali tutted, probably reading Joe's chemosignals easier than Joe could make sense of her own thoughts right now. "Is he sad about his baby sister? I suppose that guilt must swallow him alive. Or is he still under Julia's spell?"

"No. We broke it."

"Did you? Are you sure? You don't sound sure."

"We did, we-" She cut herself off. They kissed? What kind of fairytale bullshit was that? What part of her experiences in Beacon Hills indicated a happy Disney-esque ending to anything? Instead of saying any of that, Joe shook her head. "She took Dad."

If Joe hadn't been so attuned to Derek's barely-there facial expressions, she would have missed the slight flicker of doubt on Kali's face. "Really?"

"Yes."

"And why should I care?"

"You know why..."

Or did she? The adrenaline ebbed out of Joe, leaving her heavier than ever. Why was she here? In the forest? There had been reasons, there had been others. Or had it? Joe glanced up at the moon, just a day shy of being full. The full moon.

"You are overestimating his importance." Kali sneered. "Doesn't matter. She wouldn't dare."

"Okay," Joe said and just sat straight down on the ground. "Okay, he's still missing, but... whatever I guess. What did you want with me?"

At least that made Kali pause. "What?"

"You said you wanted to find me. Here I am. What do you want?"

When Kali didn't answer, Joe shook her head again.

"I'm done. I'm so done, I don't- I can't. Like, I think maybe twenty-four hours ago or less I asked Derek to kill me and he said no and I'd ask you to do it, but I don't think he'd like that and it'd make him sad, so I'll fight you if I have to, I just can't with the witty banter or mind games or whatever's going on. So what do you want?"

To her surprise, Kali came to sit cross-legged in front of her. Her eyes dimmed back down and they looked black in the dark forest.

"Initially I wanted to test you, but there's no need. You're still not ready."

Joe huffed air out of her mouth. "What?"

"You had," Kali said slowly, "every opportunity to shoot Julia. And you never took it. You're not ready." The silence passed where Kali studied her own claws, painted dark red for the occasion. "The first one is always the hardest. I thought that after you killed your beta, it would become easier."

"Yeah, well," Joe laughed bitterly, eyes so heavy they drooped, "bad genes, right? Murder's in my DNA, but so is a whole lot of other shit."

"And when she comes again?"

"Who?"

Kali gave her a calculating look. "The one in your nightmares. The huntress." A chill went down Joe's spine, a shudder through her body, all signs Kali undoubtedly picked up on. "What will you do? You told me once, remember, that it would be you or her. So when she comes for you again, what are you going to do?"

As Kali studied her claws, Joe looked at her muddied and blunt fingernails. "Self-defence isn't murder."

"Really? We're arguing semantics? Even I recognize a life as a life."

"Like that EMT you killed?"

"How come that bothers you more," Kali tilted her head, "than the twelve lives Julia took? Because there was no motive? No intent? No greater purpose?"

Instead of answering, Joe tried to get Kali back in focus. Her vision swam. "Help me stop her."

"You had your chance."

"She's after you."

"Then let her try." For some reason, Kali tilted her head the other way and narrowed her eyes. "What's going on?"

"What?"

"Something's off." She sounded suspicious, almost alarmed. "Are you doing something?"

"No, I'm not-"

Contrary to what she tried to say, Joe flinched hard where she sat, arching her back unnaturally before flopping down to the ground. The stars and moon peeking through the foliage stared back down at her as she bit in a silent cry.

Something was happening. Something with Derek.

Through the weird roaring in her ears, she heard Kali rise to her feet. "Sefina? Joe?"

"Sss," Joe hissed through closed lips and tried to ride it out. Buckling and spasming without control. "Shhh-"

It was not like when he was hurt, this was a dull ache spreading through her whole body, turning sharper by the second. It was surpassing any guard she could ever put up in her against Derek's pain. This was not his pain, she realized, but Cora's. Whatever he said he was going to do to save her life, he was doing it.

And it hurt.

"Sefina, focus on my voice." Hard hands grabbed her, shifted her around. Violent hands, hands that clawed and broke, but now searched her body for injuries. "What is- no. No!"

"Don't - touch - me," Joe grunted and her voice sounded guttural, near bestial. Her fingers scrambled for a hold in the dirt, flailing at Kali's strong arms, the urge to squeeze something overcoming her while the throbbing in her skin, her blood, her thoughts continued to surge. "Sssh-"

She was trying to swear, but her jaw clenched together, refusing her to form words. Her hands clawing around on the ground now clamped over her ears as the roar came. It did not even enter through her ears, but from inside, filling up her skull so she thought her brain would explode with the pressure. Derek's roar, overpowering every single thought and building in her own throat.

"No! No, no, no!" Kali roared, furious beyond what Joe had ever heard. "What is he doing? NO!"

"Nnngh!" was all Joe managed to get out, still forcing her lips together to keep the noise from escaping. The pressure kept building, however, to a level where she was sure he had died or she had died or everyone had died because there was no living with pain like this. Like the roar, it filled out every particle of her body, pushing and prodding and squeezing at all the nerve endings it could reach.

Only barely aware of a pair of clawed hands grabbing her face, Joe's eyes rolled back into her head and the last thing she saw was two wide brown eyes before she abruptly lost consciousness.

I know, I know. Poor Joe. But hey, she lost consciousness! In the arms of Kali, but... Still, that's almost sleep, right?

Sorry for the delay and that I haven't answered any reviews. Work is seriously kicking my ass this month and I can't guarantee the next chapter will be up as scheduled three days from now. I'll try to have it out as soon as possible because we are really close to the end and I'm excited for some fluff after all this bad shit. Thank you so much for your kind wishes, by the way, they mean a lot 😊

Some extra love to Rayne91, I'm so sorry for your loss ❤

If you enjoyed the chapter, please let me know in a review 💖 I still read every single one even if I haven't had the chance to respond yet.

Much love to all of you, have a nice weekend!