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...

42. Episode 11: Raptor Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf

Two-Pack II

Isaac led the way into the hospital, holding Scott's unconscious and barely breathing form, hoping against hope that they were in time to save him as he barged through the doors.

"Melissa!" he screamed frantically, holding his boyfriend to him as Scott gave a rattling gasp, and a split second later she appeared, looking slightly worse for wear, but as soon as she saw Isaac cradling her son to him, tears in his eyes, she felt her stomach collapse in on itself.

No, this was like when Matt had shot him at the police station, and for Isaac to be this frightened (he was shaking as he held Scott) and to throw caution to the winds and bring Scott to the hospital, this was bad, really bad.

"Come on Scott, stay with me." Isaac begged desperately as Scott gave another wheezing breath as Melissa rushed to them, Dr Killian and Dr Dunbar hurtling down the corridor towards them as she did so.

"What happened?" she hissed, tears filling her own eyes as a nurse brought a gurney towards them and she helped Isaac negotiate her son onto it, while the rest of the pack looked on in horrified awe, all of them trying to look anywhere but at their Alpha.

"Agravaine, he b-basically s-spat his fire breath down, down his throat." Isaac explained, his voice shuddering as he tried to get his emotions under control, she needed to know what was happening, how she could help, and she turned to face him and took hold of Isaac, her brown eyes (which were so like Scott's) and the hand she had placed on his cheek acting to steady him so he could tell her what she needed to know so that she could figure out how to save her son.

"Melissa, what happened to you? What happened to Scott?" Killian demanded in alarm, joined by Dunbar, who, after he had given Liam a once over with his eyes and received a nod in return, also looked anxiously at Melissa, who had to think fast on her feet.

"Poison of some sort, we don't really know…please, help him!" she begged, tears falling from her eyes and while Killian didn't look entirely thrilled with the bare minimum response, he nodded tersely and had a nurse wheel Scott away so he could examine him, ordering Dunbar to join them once he had helped get Melissa and settled.

Dunbar led a shaking and anxious Melissa to the very same room they had been in before, the same room that she had brought Scott to when Isaac had been electrocuted (how had that only been a few short months ago?), the very same room where the pack had anxiously awaited news on Aiden and mourned the loss of Allison following the showdown with the Nogitsune. The rest of the pack followed along anxiously, though for some reason it seemed as though they were trying to keep their distance from Isaac, who was also shaking in fear.

No, they couldn't lose Scott, he couldn't lose Scott! They had lost Allison, someone he loved, but it had always been Scott, if he lost him, no, he couldn't, he just couldn't. He wasn't an Alpha, he didn't know if he could save Scott in any way, but he had watched the fire lighting up inside Scott's insides, he hadn't been strong enough, fast enough to save him, this was all his fault, he should have gotten there to protect Scott, to get that murderous perverted maniac the hell away from his boyfriend. How could he help Scott, he had to do something…

All the way here, he had held Scott, trying desperately to take his pain away, screaming in pain as the agonising pain wracked through him, but try though he might, he couldn't do anything to alleviate the pain that Scott was in. Martagh and Rakaisha had been with him, and their worried expressions as they had tried to do their best to help their Alpha hadn't set his mind at ease at all, they had both been flanking him as Isaac had clutched his boyfriend to him for dear life. They had both been chanting in their own languages, gesturing emphatically as they tried to channel their power to help save Scott's life, but the increasingly concerned and the alarmed looks on their faces had taken the horrible, twisted feeling in his gut and increased it tenfold. The pack had all made it to safety, and Isaac had then run ahead with his boyfriend clinging to life, though only barely, rattling as though he was on his deathbed (please don't let him be on his deathbed) as he had brought him to the hospital.

Melissa stood shaking, tears starting to flow down her face. It was so hard to believe that not long ago she had helped bring down an evil Djinn and help get one of the pack's many enemies off the back of her son and his pack, and now she was standing here, in her hospital, surrounded by her son's terrified friends, fearing for his life. How, how had this happened? Was Agravaine just that powerful? If Scott, no, she couldn't think that, he wouldn't die. He was her son and he had survived so much already, this wouldn't kill him, she couldn't let herself think that that terrible, awful thing could happen.

Scott would be fine.

But as Isaac turned to her, his eyes watery and his entire long body shaking in fear, tears falling from his eyes as he looked at her pleadingly, and she could see from the sheer terror in his wet blue eyes how truly scared he was that they were about to lose Scott. She shuddered as something ran through her head, mocking her, the thought that this boy that her son loved so much could be the only one of her sons she had left, and she felt her knees start to buckle as the terror threatened to overwhelm her, no, she couldn't lose her boys, and not her boy! As she started to collapse, Isaac stooped to catch her, hugging her desperately, as though desperate to maintain some form of a link to Scott by doing so, and she held onto him for dear life, holding his crying, shuddering form as her colleagues tried desperately to save her son.

XX

Killian shook his head grimly as he examined Scott, Melissa's son lying on the examination table before him. He was barely responding, and from the looks of the x-rays, it looked as though his insides were on fire, and he had no clue how the hell he was to go about trying to save him.

Killian sighed wearily, he had seen far too many people over the years coming through his hospital as a result of an entanglement with the supernatural. He had long suspected that Melissa's son had to be involved in the strange occurrences of this town, he had appeared too frequently at too many of the supernatural victims' sides for it to be anything otherwise. He had suspected that whatever the boy's role in all this was, he was trying to keep people alive and try to keep too many people from being killed as a result of the supernatural shitstorms that blew through this town, which seemed to be getting more frequent and much more dangerous recently.

What exactly was this boy? And what the hell had befallen him tonight that it now looked as though he had swallowed molten lava, and why wasn't whatever healing power the lad had kicking in to try and save him from this terrible fate?

God he missed the old days, he and Talia had been a good team back in the day. She would at least have some idea, and even if she didn't she could have asked her, what the hell did you call them again? Ambassador? Something like that anyway.

"We need to ask the kids what the hell happened to him, none of this makes any sense! It's like he's swallowed some bleach or something, but no bleach can do this amount of damage in such a short space of time. We need to flush him out." Dunbar ordered, and the nurse on duty with them rushed to assist in getting Scott ready for the procedure.

Killian nodded, allowing Dunbar to take point. No, speaking to the others wouldn't help much. He had made a promise that he held just as closely to as he did his Hippocratic Oath, that he would do everything in his power to keep the existence of the supernatural in Beacon Hills quiet. And whatever Scott was, it was clear that his friends were also involved in the supernatural just as much as he was. And now that Killian had some idea of what was really going on with regards to Scott and his little bunch of friends, it had become all the more obvious that they were involved with the supernatural: the whole thing with Stilinski's boy going off the rails with a psychotic break, the Lahey lad's miraculous survival after he was electrocuted, even the survival of whichever twin it was he had worked on and saved the life of weeks before. Even other things, like that Whittemore brat (he had never liked his father and his son was even more arrogant and seemed even more of a high maintenance pain in the proverbial) and his aconite poisoning, and then of course the tragic murder of the Hewitt boy and the Argent girl.

The supernatural had always been part of life in Beacon Hills for those who, like him, knew how to look for it. However, whatever the hell had happened, it was now getting harder and harder for everyone not to notice, especially with the reports of the dead rising all over town.

No, Dunbar asking questions of the kids wouldn't help much, especially as his son seemed to have been sucked into it all now as well. And besides, Killian mused sadly, asking all the questions in the world would only make matters worse: it could well expose the rest of Scott's friends as being part of the supernatural and Killian knew enough about people to know that that would be a very bad idea, it would put them all in catastrophic amounts of danger.

And, he reflected bitterly, it wouldn't matter much anyway if Dunbar did get the truth out of those kids. As the truth of what had really happened wouldn't change the facts, that dreadful thing that he was now going to have to go and tell Melissa: that her son had at most forty-eight hours to live.

XX

It had happened so many years ago, yet she could still remember it like it was yesterday. She hadn't been out in months due to her son's transformations into a weredog starting far sooner than she'd anticipated, and after all, a werepuppy was certainly not a good thing for anyone's sake should the news get out. But it seemed as though that little hiccough had finally been brought under control, and she felt confident enough to leave her son with her beloved husband, and she had gone out with her friends for some much-needed relaxation.

And then she had returned home, to find her husband cradling her son's lifeless body, a bottle of spilled bleach pooling beside her son's broken and oh-so-small form, her husband screaming in denial, his grief and fury beyond tears as he begged for someone, anyone, to help him fix this. Bonnie had felt her entire world collapse out from beneath her at that moment, her son was dead, her precious little boy gone, gone forever, all due to her husband's carelessness, she had left him in charge, all so she could go and take a break. This was all her fault, she had left him in charge, and now her son was gone forever, having managed to get into the cupboard door, and had drank the bleach, snuffing his life out when he was so young and innocent.

And then, then she had found him. He had found her, wandering aimlessly, heartbroken, and his sickly yellow eyes had chilled her to her core. Yet he had comforted her, consoled and counselled her, and made her realise the true culprit behind her world having ended: her husband. And by the end of the day, in the living room of the house that they had made their home, there was a collie with glowing blue eyes, drenched in the blood her husband who had pleaded with her, she could never remember if it was for mercy or for death, and her husband's corpse staring lifelessly into eternity.

For years, she had passionately hated and resented her husband, he had been stupid, careless, and due to his lack of care, her son had gotten into the cupboard and had drunk bleach, essentially immolating his insides and taking her precious boy from the world.

But now, she was beginning to wonder. She had never doubted it before, hell, the autopsy had even confirmed it: her son's insides had been burned by the acid of the bleach. But perhaps, perhaps there was more to it. Perhaps that was what it looked like to a human, with no knowledge of the supernatural, that her son had drank bleach and had died as a result.

But when one considered the twisted, awful powers of a Gwyllgi, and of said Gwyllgi's Baleful Breath in particular, perhaps the details surrounding her son's death weren't quite as set in stone as she had first suspected.

And now, she was fairly certain that if she matched what had happened to her son to what was happening to the young Alpha of Beacon Hills at the moment, she now had a truly terrible feeling in her gut, one that she couldn't escape: that if she compared to the two cases, they would look to be exactly the same.

And if that was the case, that opened up a whole new load of questions, and, she mused as she looked around her compatriots, perhaps if he had lied to her, then chances were, he had lied to them all.

"Where are you going?" Stiles asked in an undertone, edging out from the shadows, looking impotent and terrified at the same time, his hand clutched to his phone, his entire body shaking.

Bonnie looked at the boy, and looked over at the others, who were all celebrating their victory with Agravaine, and she edged closer to the young boy, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going where you want to go. Stiles, I'm not stupid. Agravaine might believe you're on his side, but I know better. You're undercover. If you had truly betrayed your friends, you wouldn't care what Agravaine did to Scott, nor would you still be breathing as his boyfriend would have killed you. Now," she hissed, raising her voice ever so slightly to shut him up, "I will say nothing to them, because if I'm right, Agravaine has lied to us all, for years, which means that things are about to get very messy. Watch Thane." She ordered, and the former Nogitsune looked at her in confusion.

"Thane? Why Thane?" he whispered, and she allowed herself a small dark smile.

"Thane is the one who will be loyal to Agravaine whatever the weather, whatever else might rock the pack, he will always be by Agravaine's side. The others, with the possible exception of Malakai, are not quite so devoted to him. In some ways, the two of them are like…" she began, and Stiles eyes widened in realisation.

"Scott and Isaac…Thane's in love with Agravaine isn't he?" he whispered, and Bonnie nodded, her eyes travelling over to watch the rest of her pack.

"Yes, not that Agravaine notices, reciprocates or cares for that matter. Stiles, what Agravaine did to Scott has made me think, which is something he has been very careful not to allow to happen the last several years. And now, I think I'm onto something. So, I am going to the hospital, and I will check on your friend. If I find out I'm right-if I find out I'm right, we'll have work to do. Now, be careful, and stay out of Agravaine's reach, his tastes have always skewed towards the younger. Be safe, and watch, particularly Thane and Malakai. We'll speak more when I return." She vowed, and turned into a dog and hurried off, and for the first time since Agravaine had kissed Scott, he felt the faint stirrings of hope inside his chest.

Bonnie thought that she had discovered something, something that she clearly believed could rip apart Agravaine's entire pack. Stiles took a shuddering breath to calm himself, his adrenaline hadn't stopped pumping since he had watched Agravaine essentially murder his best friend. He had to find out if Scott was alright, he had to know what was going on, but he knew that whatever was happening to his brother, he was going to have to wait for the results of whatever was happening to him at the hospital, which is where he presumed the others had taken him.

And in the meantime, he had all these new pieces of information to collate into an effective plan: Agravaine used to be a wolf who was cursed into a Gwyllgi, Thane was in love with Agravaine, and Peter was behind it all. And, most curiously of all, despite their victory celebration, Agravaine was still only drinking out of his own hip flask. Yes, he thought with a cunning smile, that could well be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

But, he thought soberingly, that relied on Isaac checking his pockets, and he realised with a stomach churning jolt, that would rely on Scott being alright for it to happen any time soon. Gulping and furiously suppressing the tears he felt cloying in his throat, he settled in to wait, hoping against hope he would hear from Isaac, or preferably Scott, soon, before it was too late.

XX

"I-I'm so sorry to have to tell you this Melissa, but…all we can do now is make sure Scott's comfortable, there's nothing else we can do. I'm so sorry." Killian had said grimly, as she and Isaac had stood in the same room Isaac had been put in after he had been electrocuted. Melissa had asked him to come with her when Killian had paged for her to report to this room where she and Scott had spent so much time begging Isaac to come back to them so many months before. And this time, it was Scott lying as though dead, machines surrounding him and only really doing enough to give Melissa and Isaac time to prepare their goodbyes. Melissa stepped back, shaking her head in denial, refusing to believe that her boy, her son, could be dying, that he could be leaving her, her whole body shaking as she looked at her son lying as though dead in the bed. However, as she looked at the devastated expression on Killian's face, her resolve started to shake and she then shrieked, sobbing desperately as a shaking and crying Isaac held onto her as though for dear life, trying to hold Melissa up as she screamed in agonised pain as her son fought for his life in front of them.

Isaac had staggered out of the room as Killian had advised him to take a break, Melissa was totally inconsolable as he tried to get her to stop screaming in denial as she begged Scott to overcome what Agravaine had done to him. Isaac leaned against the wall, his world spinning around him, tears running down his face as he ran his hand through his hair, pulling at it in futility, and screamed furiously as he slid down the wall, just feeling empty and broken.

Scott was dying, he was going to die, and there was nothing they could do to stop it. He sobbed, his entire body shaking, imagining Scott was right beside him, holding him, soothing him, just like he always did, just like….just like he would never do again.

Scott was going to be gone, he was going to die. He had two days left at most before he was immolated from the inside out by Agravaine's Baleful Breath, and Isaac would be left all alone, again. His mother, his brother, his father, Allison and now Scott, everyone left him alone. True Camden had come back but how was he meant to go on without Scott? Scott, Scott was the person he loved, Scott was the reason he was even still alive, still here, and without him…no, he couldn't lose Scott, there had to be something he could do!

What the hell had Scott done to deserve this? To deserve to be immolated from the inside out by a murderous, perverted maniac? To be abandoned by his friends who had allowed this to happen to begin with? Scott didn't deserve this, it wasn't fair! Scott was so sweet, loyal, kind…he cared about everyone, always tried to see the best in everyone, tried to protect everyone, and instead his pack, his so-called friends had turned on him, destroyed his confidence, led him willingly into a trap all because they thought they knew better than he did and wanted him to fix their problems for them! And now while they all milled about in the family room that they had all sheltered in far too many times, he and Melissa had just been told that the person they loved most in the world was going to die, and that it was all the fault of his friends! Scott was lying, essentially waiting for death, and there was no way Agravaine would have done what he had done if it wouldn't be fatal, even with Scott's healing factor thrown in, he wouldn't have taken so much sadistic pleasure out of it if Scott could shake it off like he had everything else he had been through. And even worse, without his Alpha power, it would just…he would just…Scott would…

Isaac slammed his fist into the wall furiously, the wall shattering around his fist as he sat on the floor, panting as if he'd run a marathon, his whole body shaking with grief in rage as he got to his feet. This, this was their fault, they were the ones who had done it! It was them, Jackson, Danny, the twins, Lydia, it was all of them, and of course, fucking Stiles! They had done this to Scott, it was their fault that this person they professed to love was now lying hooked up to machines, struggling for every breath that he took, each of them acting as a Doomsday clock until Scott was gone from their lives, gone from Isaac's life, forever.

Scott was going to die, and Melissa was going to lose her only son, and Isaac was going to lose the person who had saved him, who kept him alive, who had made him the happiest he had ever been, and now, Scott was going to be gone, Scott would be just like Allison, just like Mason, like Erica, like Boyd, someone else taken from their loved ones far too young, someone else ripped from them, ripped from him!

Isaac could feel himself getting angrier and angrier, he could hear Melissa crying in that awful room where he had been kept alive after his electrocution, where Scott had tried so hard to save him, she didn't deserve this. She was the mother to the whole pack, this brave, resourceful, amazing woman who had taken in what was essentially a teenage runaway and given him a home without murmur and treated him like one of the family, and now she was being ripped in two as she was about to lose the person that she loved most in the world, she was going to lose her only son. This wasn't fair, none of it was, and as he shook, beside himself with rage, standing up, their faces, the faces of Scott's pack, swimming in front of his vision and he snarled furiously, he didn't care if he was losing control of his wolf, he didn't care if he exposed them all, without Scott he didn't care, Scott was the sensible one, and if Scott was going to be gone, why should he care anymore?

He stormed along the corridor, sending patients and medical staff scurrying for cover as the furious teenager homed in on the room they had left the others in and he opened the door, managing to do that fairly calmly as he looked around at the pack, these people who were responsible for taking Scott, his Scott, from him.

There were still missing members, Garrett and Violet were still away being checked over following their battle with the Djinn and the Berserkers, and obviously Stiles and Malia were both still absent, but the others, the ones he blamed the most, Jackson in particular, were all here, all of them looking at them with horror and grief on their faces, amazing what a guilty conscience can provoke them to feel isn't it?

He slammed the door shut behind him, his entire body quivering, and Derek sort of hovered, as though debating about whether or not to get closer to him, but when he saw that Isaac's golden eyes were filled with tears and rimmed red, he decided to back off. The atmosphere was so thick with tension it was almost solid as they all nervously waited on whatever Isaac was about to say.

"Isaac? What's going on?" Liam asked, his voice fearful, and Isaac had to remember, Liam had remained loyal, he didn't deserve to have his head ripped off, not like the rest of them did, this adorable boy who seemed to hero worship Scott.

"Well…Jackson, you and the others are going to get your wish," Isaac spat, glaring at Jackson, who flinched as he saw the furious, heartbroken expression on the Prime Beta's face, "you're all going to get what you wanted. You want to find another Alpha, one who'll fight when you want, kill everyone they come across? Well now's your chance." He growled, his voice a malevolent whisper as he stalked towards Jackson, and Danny, perhaps scenting danger, stood in front of his best friend.

He didn't care, as far as he was concerned, Danny was the one who had finished Scott off, he was the one who had broken his boyfriend beyond all repair, he was the one who had driven Scott into this, driven Scott right into Agravaine's trap. If he wanted to come between him and Jackson, he would happily go through him too.

"What are you talking about?" Jackson asked, though his voice sounded like he was coming down with something, as though he was ill, like he could be about to cry, but Isaac didn't care, he had never cared much for Jackson, and now, he couldn't help but feel that that death that he was so terrified of was exactly what he deserved.

"Scott. You know, the Alpha, the one you all turned on, the one you all blamed for everything!" he shouted, and Jackson's faction backed away, even Derek and Lydia recoiled from the simmering heat of the Prime Beta, "the one you blamed for us not being able to stop the dogs, the person you blamed for the fact that you're poisoned," he spat, glaring at Jackson, who eagerly avoided his gaze, "the person you all stabbed in the back, the person who's stopped at nothing to keep your ungrateful, backstabbing selves alive!" he roared, his fury thundering loose onto them, and both Jackson and Aiden recoiled, and he took a savage pleasure in seeing that Aiden was crying, "the person you all blamed for Stiles betraying us, for Malia disappearing, oh and of course, the person you all blamed for Mason and Allison dying! That Scott, the one you all destroyed! Well, all of you are getting your wish," he ground out, his voice shaking with unshed tears, and the pack looked at him in horror, "Scott is dying. He's only got forty-eight hours to live, so, you get your wish. You can go find a new Alpha, because you've gotten our one killed, he's going to die, because of ALL OF YOU!" he stormed, and the entire pack flinched away from their Prime Beta's terrible, all-consuming anger, but it was like a nuclear fireball, the intensity of his anger was searing against all of them and they all kept backing away, terrified, devastated, and horror-struck about what they had wrought.

"He's dying?" Liam whimpered, sounding close to tears, and without looking at the younger boy, Isaac nodded savagely, his eyes locked on the rebels who had brought this about.

"Yeah, Scott is dying, because of them. Agravaine has immolated his insides, and his healing can't help because it's a cursed wound. So, Jackson, are you happy now? How about you Danny? Aiden? Ethan? Lydia? Derek? Are you all happy now? You can all go and get the Alpha you all so dearly fucking want, because Scott is going to die! You win, go find your new Alpha, because you've gotten Scott killed you backstabbing, murdering TRAITORS!" he roared furiously, he wanted nothing more than to tear their faces apart, to rip their throats out with his teeth, they deserved it, this was all their fault, it all came back to them, they had done this to him, to Scott!

The rebels were looking at Isaac in horror, their throats filling with bile. Lydia sank to her knees, crying, and as she did so, she threw up, and Isaac was too angry to care. He knew she hadn't been nearly as bad as the others, but she had still badmouthed Scott, still helped bring this about.

Aiden was clutching the same wound that had almost killed him, the wound that was only healed because Scott, the Alpha had done so much to save him, he was shaking and crying, giving gasping breaths as the enormity of what he had been party to sank in.

Ethan staggered back against the wall, his whole body quivering as he sobbed, they had done this, they had gotten Scott killed, this was all on them.

Derek shook, his eyes watering. He had only wanted to help Scott, to try and get him out of the impossible situation the others had backed him into, but now, he had helped to get his Alpha, his…he was like his little brother, and he had helped destroy him, he had helped get him killed, he had done this to him, he realised, as he broke into a real sob.

Danny was hyperventilating, his stomach churning, he, it had been him, he had broken their Alpha, he had been the one who had forced Scott into this, he had gotten Scott killed, he had been the one who had bullied him, driven him over the edge, it was all on him, what the hell had he done?

And Jackson, Jackson was sobbing, he was crying as his whole body shook, the feeling of self-hatred, self-loathing rising inside him like wildfire. Scott was going to die, all because of him. Scott was going to die because despite disagreeing, he still wanted to save Jackson. Scott was going to die because he was one of the few people who cared enough to save this arrogant, smug, obnoxious pain in the ass self when nobody else would. Scott was going to die simply because Jackson had bullied him into doing something he had never wanted to do, because he had twisted the knife, guilted that sweet, compassionate, loving Alpha into going so against his character, it had only served to get him killed.

Agravaine might have been the one to fire the killing blow, but it was them, all of them, but particularly Jackson, who had killed Scott.

They had killed their Alpha.

They had murdered the love of Isaac's life and Melissa's only son. It was on them, all of them. They had done this, Scott's blood was on their hands.

They had murdered Scott.

"Isaac, we…" Lydia gasped from the floor, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, and he turned his glare onto her, though at least his eyes faded back to blue to look at her, the gold eyes were still reserved for everyone else.

"You turned on him, you might have came back round, but you were still there, having a pot shot at him," Isaac growled through gritted teeth, "you're all to blame."

"Isaac, we never meant-" Aiden pleaded, while Ethan nodded eagerly, trying to get through Isaac's anger, but the stony, hateful look their Prime Beta replied with made it perfectly clear that that wasn't going to get them anywhere.

"So what? You all helped, Scott is dying because of all…of…you! So, go on. Get out. Go and find the Alpha, the murderer that you all wanted so much. Go find a new Alpha, because you've all killed our one. Now get out." He hissed quietly, his body shaking, apoplectic with rage, and Ethan looked beseechingly at his best friend through his tears.

"Isaac, we never meant for any of this to happen, you have to believe us!" he begged, and Isaac, his glowing, golden eyes flooded with tears, turned his hateful look onto Ethan.

"You still did it. It's your fault that Scott is in there, hooked up to the machines that are just keeping him alive!" Isaac spat furiously through his tears, Ethan flinching as he did so, "it's all your fault. So, go and find your new Alpha, go and find someone else to care about you, and get out!"

"Isaac, we're a pack, please…" Danny begged, and Isaac snarled viciously at him, making the human back away, terrified, shaking in fear.

"We're not a pack. Not anymore. You lot…you lot destroyed it. So, job done. Get-out." He intoned harshly, and Jackson held up a hand, his weak body quaking in fear, tears flooding down his face.

"I get it ok, I'll go, just don't take it out on the others, Isaac, please…" he begged, and Isaac snarled at him, one of his knives appearing in his hand, he didn't care, he had never hated anybody as much as he now hated Jackson, and he would relish the thought of cutting him in two…

"Get out!" Isaac insisted, now shimmering with anger, and Jackson looked at him desperately, making one last attempt…

"Isaac, please!" he begged, but then, Isaac, confronted by the person he blamed the most for what was happening to the person he loved the most, finally snapped.

"GET OUT!" he roared, screaming the order, but his Prime Beta power enforced it and with horrified, heartbroken cries, the rebels fled from the room, Derek bringing up the rear as Jackson, Danny, the twins and Lydia fled in high dudgeon.

"I'm so sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen." He whispered, his own face streaked with tears, and Isaac's wet blue ones met his own.

"Still happened though." He snapped back, and Derek gave a shaky breath as he too left, making good his escape as he shut the door behind him.

Isaac then sank down to the floor, screaming in embittered rage and denial, screeching in pain as he hammered the floor so hard it cracked the tiles, cries of despair and desolation wracking his body as the enormity of everything that was happening hit him like a freight train at full speed.

To his surprise, he was only there alone for a few seconds before Liam (he hadn't even noticed the kid was still here) sank down beside him, his own body wracked with sobs, and hugged Isaac to him, just as the door opened, and Kira, who had also sunk down to the floor, tears rolling down her face too as she held Isaac and tried to calm him down, looked up to see a mortified Garrett and Violet standing in the doorway.

"We, we heard what's happening, we-" Garrett began, his voice choked, but Kira shook her head, and looked at them both beseechingly.

"Please, try and find Camden, he came in with you lot didn't he?" she asked, trying to remain in control of her emotions, and Violet nodded as she started to cry herself, but a hand laid on her shoulder, preventing her from doing anything else.

"It's ok Vi, I'm here." Camden said tearfully as he crossed to his brother, sinking to his knees in front of Isaac and then extracting him from Liam and Kira's grip, wrapping Isaac in a tight hug, rocking him and hushing him while Isaac cried and screamed into his big brother's shoulder.

"Come on." Kira commanded softly, wanting nothing more than to cry and scream herself, but she knew she had to get the others away first, and with a last, sad look at Isaac sobbing his heart out onto his brother's shoulder, she too broke down, her whole body shaking with grief as she led Liam, Garrett and Violet away.

Inside the room, Camden rocked Isaac, trying to calm his broken little brother down. Kaisha was currently trying to help Melissa function in some way again, and Camden, having heard Isaac screaming at his friends from several corridors away, had rushed to be by his brother's side. Isaac was now crying silently into Camden's shoulder, and sniffed a little, and Camden took the chance to try and bring a tiny bit of levity back to his little brother's life.

"Dude, you're snottering on me." He chided, determined to cheer him up somehow, and Isaac let out a watery whimpery laugh.

"Sorry." He mumbled, and reached into his pocket, and rather than the packet of tissues he was looking for, he instead found a piece of paper.

Confused, he started to pull it out, remembering with a flash what Stiles had said during their fight, and as he eagerly read it over Camden's shoulder through his tear-filled eyes, he wondered if perhaps there might be a tiny bit of hope left after all.

XX

"Really Haigh? You're doing this now?" Parrish spat, cursing the other man's timing, and the other deputy glowered at Stilinski's favourite.

The sheriff was trying to get to the hospital, something had happened to Scott and he wanted to be with Melissa, to try and help her through whatever fresh hell was happening back there, but now, Haigh, who had never quite recovered from the fact that they had been ordered to drop the Hale case due to lack of evidence, had elected to apply for another job in Santa Monica, which he had been successful in acquiring. As a result, he was now trying to hand in his notice with immediate effect, his car was already packed, and he just wanted to be gone from Beacon Hills, to start a new life, far away from the memory of the tragic death of his sister back in the Hale house fire so many years ago.

He knew it wasn't Stilinski's fault, not really. But there was still the fact that the sheriff's kid, who was still AWOL, and all his friends had something to do with Derek Hale, and as far as Haigh was concerned, all the remaining Hales were just as much to blame for the death of his sister as whoever had set the fire in the first place. And quite honestly, he couldn't remain in Beacon Hills when someone like Derek Hale was allowed to go free, for whatever reason, for whatever crime he had committed, especially when Derek was here and Haigh's sister wasn't.

"Has to be now, I'm leaving right away." Haigh replied curtly, and Parrish opened his mouth furiously, but Elba laid a restraining hand on his shoulder and gave the young deputy a shake of his head, and Parrish contented himself with glaring at Haigh as the other deputy headed through to the sheriff's office, where the sheriff, who seemed to be hobbling a bit, was getting ready to head to the hospital.

"Haigh, can it wait? I need to get to the hospital, something's happened to Scott." He told his deputy grimly, who took a deep breath before handing his letter of resignation over to the sheriff.

"I know, and I'm sorry to spring this on you sheriff, but, see, I applied for another job, in Santa Monica. You…you were right, I wasn't objective when it came to the Hale case, and I helped compromise it, and I'm sorry. I figure a fresh start is just what I need, and my new station, they need me right away. I'm sorry, I didn't expect them to need me so quickly." He told his superior, and the sheriff looked at Haigh, and Haigh couldn't help but feel like he was sitting in front of a teacher who had disappointed by not doing so well on a test.

"Haigh, you're a good cop, and the Derek thing aside…" he began, and Haigh shook his head, glowering angrily.

"Whatever else may be going on in this town sheriff, Hale is up to his neck in it. And I know that he's meant to be innocent, but at the end of the day, lack of evidence aside, there's a bunch of people dead and it's something to do with him. And we've been told we can't do anything about him, that we had to drop the case. And I can't be a good cop here if we're allowing a suspected killer to walk around free, I'm sorry." He told the sheriff curtly, passing the sheriff his resignation letter, and Stilinski gave it, and him, a dirty look before accepting it and offering his now former deputy his hand.

"You were a good cop Haigh, I'll be sad to see you go, and I'm sorry we're losing you this way. Good luck in Santa Monica." He told him gruffly, and Haigh mustered a small smile and shook his hand.

"Thank you, sir. Good luck with, you know, everything." He told him, and left the sheriffs office, and after giving his colleagues a last nod, to which most of them responded (Parrish continued to glower at him) he left Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department for good.

XX

Kate smiled as the hot young blond, Brandon his name was, screamed as he was held down by her remaining two Berserkers. With Peter still out, and by the sounds of the Banshee scream that had reverberated throughout the town, succeeding in whichever twisted, all-consuming maniacal plan he had hatched for today, she had decided to venture out for some relaxation.

After all, with his help she was finally getting some mastery over her transformation, and very soon now, everything would be over, one way or another. And it had been a while since she'd had any decent company, well any company that wasn't the braindead members of the Calavera clan, her murderer or a bunch of bone monsters. But furthermore, with only two Berserkers left, she was in desperate need of reinforcements, particularly with a final showdown beckoning on the horizon. As such, with her hulking bodyguards lurking in the horizon, she had slipped out of Peter's apartment (helping himself to the wad of cash she'd seen him add to the other day on the way out, she had told her Berserkers that it was her compensation (they hadn't laughed at her joke)) and headed to the bar down the road from Peter's apartment.

The bar was alright, not what one could call a villain's bar (she briefly amused herself by envisioning Peter sitting out having a drink with other nasty pieces of work) and it wasn't rough either, just a nice place to have a drink. She had settled in at the bar, getting herself a beer, and had scanned the crowd looking for any not-so-willing participant in her Berserker recruitment team. The tall blond guy, very Abercrombie and Fitch, with a sort of floral tattoo on his arm framing writing of some sort, had caught her eye, for a very different reason, well at least he thought so anyway. So, one thing had followed another, and the young man, clearly relishing the chance to go home with an attractive older woman, had suggested they relocate elsewhere, and she had gladly followed suit.

As soon as they were at a suitable distance away from the bar, the Berserkers knocked him out before he could try to make a move on her, and they had spirited him away. Hey, if she was the Bone Woman, she had a reputation to live up to, and she'd had her Berserkers bring her truck here, complete with all her accoutrements to her moonlighting job, and she wasn't going to let the ball drop just because she only had two Berserkers left, hell, she might wind up cornered by someone if she didn't have her hulking brutes to protect her. And besides, what daddy didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Now the guy, Brandon, was shirtless and struggling against the grip her two Berserkers had him in. He was begging her to let him go, to set him free, vowing he wouldn't tell anyone, and Kate allowed herself a small smile, damn right he wouldn't because after today, he wouldn't be Brandon anymore, he would be one of the faceless, nameless masses of bone and flesh that followed her every whim. She raised a skull, of a wolf this time, far above his head and he struggled, screaming, in blind panic (it was then that the insults started, crazy bitch seemed to be a favourite), desperate to escape but as she lowered the skull onto his head, his eyes rolled back and after a few short moans, he was clearly on the way to becoming assimilated.

"Police!" a voice called, and she hissed in alarm, how the hell had the police found them?

She had brought the two Berserkers and her unwitting victim into the deepest recesses of the parking garage of Peter's building (what could she say, she was on the run from a pissed off bunch of hunters, who while incompetent, were heavily armed, and she was short on time and options) but she had thought she had been clear, someone must have picked up her scent.

Hmm, she thought, her eyes glowing green in the dark as the two Berserkers waited for her signal as their newest recruit started to join them, the cop was here, and alone. Perhaps this was fate's way of making it up to her that she'd had to be saved by Peter in the first place?

Haigh had stopped off to say goodbye to his usual watering hole, to bid a farewell to the other regulars he had come to know during his time here, when he'd heard the distant sounds of someone screaming. Drawing his gun, he had followed the sounds into the parking garage of a fairly well-to-do building, edging forward stealthily as much as he could. As he'd left his radio and everything else that could possibly be of use to him in this position at the station, he was very much on his own. As he advanced further into the dark garage, he tried to call the station, only to find that there was no reception down here. Cursing his luck, and briefly debating whether to go back outside and call for help (he could still hear the screaming, but the noise of it was lessening, perhaps he was already too late?) he decided to press on ahead, if need be, he could rush to the bar and use their phone if there was someone unsavoury down here, and besides, he still had his gun, and there was a potential innocent in danger. He advanced slowly, shouting to announce himself, hoping it would make the culprits run off and he could get help for the innocent, but there was no noise that he could hear, save for a guttural growl.

Haigh edged further into the dark garage, holding his gun steady when something moved in his line of sight. He turned and saw a towering mass of muscle and bone standing stock still, his face covered by an animal skull of some sort, and it gave a guttural breath before it unsheathed a knife made of bone.

What the actual fuck?

"Stay where you are!" Haigh commanded, and then he could actually feel the blood drain from his face as a similar noise was made behind him and he turned in a blind panic to see another one of these musclebound nightmares advancing towards him.

"Stop!" Haigh screamed, and opened fire, though the beast hardly seemed bothered, flicking its chest as though his bullets had been mere flies and the two monstrosities moved to intercept him.

The hell with this!

Haigh span, determined to get out, raise the alarm, these things, whatever the hell they were, they were certainly not part of the plan, not at all, they were monsters, and he had to get the hell out of here!

He turned, only to be met by a pair of glowing green eyes, and he skidded to a stop as the eyes let out a savage sounding purr of lust.

"Well boys, lookie here, a little cop, without his toys, and all alone…he's so keen to help poor, Brandon was it, let's let him help shall we? After all, Brandon needs a playmate!" Kate hissed, and Haigh screamed as the two Berserkers slung their arms around him and carried him back to where Brandon was already in the midst of becoming a Berserker, and Haigh would be soon to join him.

Haigh gave a terrified scream as he was taken into the darkness, and Kate smiled indulgently as she found another animal skull from her stash, yes, she thought with dark satisfaction, this poor deputy, Haigh she thought he was, she'd kept an eye on him when he'd been investigating Derek, he would be a fine addition to her collection.

And not long after, when the screams had faded, Kate emerged from the deepest bowels of the garage, with Brandon and Haigh now also her loyal Berserkers, her stocks of troops slightly restored, she only had to replace two now.

And with the final battle in the offing, she would need all the help she could get, especially if she was the deciding factor that would tip the scales one way or another. So now, she thought musingly as her four Berserkers made themselves scarce, it all came down to one question: which side did she want to win?

Peter, her murderer, who's maniacal plan was likely to undo everything she and her father were hoping to achieve?

Or Scott, the reason her father was defeated, her sister-in-law was dead, her niece had been killed, and her entire family legacy thrown to the dogs?

Decisions, decisions.

And then, she thought idly as she breathed in the night air exultantly, there was still the tiny matter of the Calaveras to deal with.

Unless she…yes, she smiled darkly, that could work, and then she could just practice her father's most important lesson: the best way to eliminate a threat is to get someone else to do it for you.

Smiling happily, she headed back to Peter's apartment, her mind awhirl with the possibilities, and most importantly, her planned outcomes for everything that was about to go down in Beacon Hills.

XX

Martagh sighed wearily as she sat on the edge of the Nemeton's boundary, looking resentfully at the tree stump. She had left the hospital long before Isaac had lost it with the disloyal members of the pack, she had figured that was coming. She had known when neither she nor Rakaisha had been able to undo any of the damage that the Corrupter had done to Scott that there was no good outcome for any of them, and the supernatural maelstrom Isaac's now extremely volatile Prime Beta power had caused could probably be sensed all the way back in Stonehenge. She didn't have to be present to know who had received the brunt of his wrath, and the turmoil she sensed in her apprentice was a clear indicator of at least Lydia's involvement in the whole thing too. It had been such a long, dispiriting, heart-breaking day.

And now, the True Alpha, the first one that had been allowed to live in more in a millennium, was dying, and nothing could be done to undo it, especially when this damned tree was as wretched as it had been made by Agravaine. The damned Gwyllgi was close to taking all the spots on the board, and she couldn't think of a single thing that could help them.

Scott was going to die, the Nemeton would remain corrupted, and chances were, when Scott died and having poisoned the Nemeton as he had, Agravaine would be all but unstoppable, survive Hollis's death, and reign supreme simply by absorbing the power that he'd amassed with his numerous victories.

Martagh sagged wearily. This was partly her fault. She hadn't realised something fundamental within Scott: while he had passed some of the trials to become an Alpha, the poor boy, completely dispirited by the fight, fed up of absorbing so many losses in such a short space of time, and added with the constant stress of the dog attacks and the waves of evil emanating from the Nemeton, she had missed something pivotal: the boy was resisting his role as the Alpha.

Hell, she couldn't even blame him, it was a thankless job, and as he was still learning, combined with being constantly henpecked by his so-called friends, it was actually a miracle he had lasted as long as he had without a breakdown. He didn't want to be the Alpha, it was something he had done to help him protect the people he loved, not because he wanted to. And that, that was made him uniquely suited to be an Alpha; he didn't want power, didn't seek it.

And it was that which made him uniquely qualified to wield it.

Just a pity she hadn't realised his reticence to fully own his Alpha nature before it was too late, and now the boy was dying, and she was as much to blame as everyone else was, if not more so. She should have realised that Scott's powers had been largely ignored, simply because he didn't want to be like all the other Alphas he had encountered, the ones who dictated his primary views of Alphas as a whole, and such was his fear and disgust of becoming like them, he didn't own the power within him to rise above their pettiness, to become the greatest Alpha the world had ever seen.

She smiled sadly, she had been so disparaging of him when she had first arrived. But as she spent more time with him, she had seen what allowed him to inspire his friends so: he was selfless, charismatic, brave, kind and sweet. This boy, who she'd lamented his inability to kill as a flaw, that, that was actually one of his greatest strengths. He led through inspiration, through selfless deeds, how else could she convince so many to follow him when he wasn't such a traditional Alpha? He was different, and perhaps that difference was a sign that things could truly, actually be different.

In Scott, she saw the possibility of change, of upheaval. In him, she saw the potential for the old, established orders to be thrown aside, and something new and better to be grown in its place. She was beginning to think he was revolution given form, the very thing their world needed, to finally break the cycle of endless hatred and cold war. Deaton had realised it, and had tried to weaponise him to effect this change rather than guiding him and letting him come to that point himself. She had realised it, she had realised many things too late, and now the great sweeping force of much needed change the boy could represent would be forever lost, all due to her own narrowmindedness.

She had failed utterly, and it would be written in Scott's blood.

All because she had failed to realise how truly great and unique the boy was.

She rubbed her face wearily, she was just as much to blame for what was happening to Scott at the moment as his pack was. She was not so arrogant as to take full responsibility, no, the pack had brought this down on their Alpha themselves despite Scott's best efforts, but she too had blood on her hands, and now the boy was going to die.

Even her most fervent hope for a last-minute reversal of fortune was fading rapidly.

"Greetings Emancipated One." A voice said as stones and twigs crunched behind the Scuffock, who span, her staff brought to bear at the mystery figure who had startled her by appearing behind her.

The girl who had appeared behind her was crouched as though she had just landed (which would explain why Martagh hadn't picked up on her approach) and the black wings that she had extended from her body confirmed her suspicions. Calming herself slightly, Martagh took a measured step back, allowing the girl, as she was little more than a girl, probably ages with Scott and the others, to stand back to her full height, and Martagh tensed a little, sensing that there was far more to this being than it would appear.

She was clad in all black, her body suit essentially acting like a suit of armour for the girl, with her four wings (not membranous like a bat's, or feathered like a birds, but looked silky and fine, like gossamer, more akin to an insect) extended from her back, and the girl retracted them, confirming Martagh's suspicion that she was a wereinsect of some description. A large black mask covered most of her face, leaving only her lips and forehead exposed by the wing like design that wouldn't look out of place at a masquerade ball. Lastly, she had long crimson hair that fell to her shoulders.

Clearly, to afford such a getup, and to greet her officially as an Emancipated One, that meant that this girl, whoever she was, was someone of some means and resources, and that could mean only thing: Beasturo.

"Agent." Martagh greeted, inclining her head respectfully, addressing her with the proper title that those out on the field without official rank were granted, and the girl smiled before looking at the Nemeton, an expression of distaste materialising on her face as she surveyed its corrupted nature.

"He has done a number on this hasn't he? The Corrupter is totally out of hand." She cursed, and Martagh nodded, though her green eyes remained narrowed, she hadn't gotten to her point in life by letting her guard down among Beasturo operatives, particularly those with less than clear intentions.

Besides, there were some of the nastier ones who refused to recognise the rights of the Emancipated and usually took a violently lethal approach to dealing with the Emancipated that they encountered.

"That's putting it mildly. Who exactly are you?" she challenged, and the girl smiled and turned to face the Scuffock, an enigmatic expression on her face.

"I'm an interested party. I'm aware of what's happened to the True Alpha," she said, the fear and anger in her voice indicating to Martagh that she did indeed care about Scott in some form, "and realise what's about to happen if we don't find some way to stop Agravaine."

Martagh pursed her lips, she too was getting a good idea of what would happen next if they didn't find some way to stop the Corrupter.

"It all depends on how it happens next. The Nemeton is totally corrupted, and unfortunately, I can't find any way to purge it, despite my best efforts. Also, paradoxically, we can't purge it until we defeat Agravaine, but we can't defeat Agravaine until we purge the Nemeton. But that is only part of the problem, the other part of it is the very curse that's currently killing the Alpha, along with keeping the damned Gwyllgi alive." Martagh explained, and the agent nodded.

Melody paced around the outskirts of the Nemeton, keeping half an eye on the Scuffock but she was fairly certain that she posed no threat to her. Besides, in this regard, they were both on the same side.

She had heard Lydia's scream echo across the town and had left Luana investigating what she could to try and find a ritual to purge the Nemeton and had flown across town, eventually pinpointing the pack at the hospital. She had felt the simmering rage of Isaac as he let loose at his friends, and she didn't need to be Jessica Fletcher to deduce what had happened: the pack had forced Scott into an impossible choice, which had proceeded to backfire, and now, Scott was dying.

When her mother found out all hell would break loose, of that she was certain.

Returning to her roommate's side, Luana had discovered a ritual of such power that it was in one of the texts that had been confiscated from the Fivefold following their defeat in the war millennia ago. Her boto friend had concluded that the ritual would be powerful enough to purge the Nemeton, and Melody had agreed after reading it over. She had then mulled everything over with her friend, essentially having the same conversation with her as she was now having with Martagh. She and Luana had come to a grim conclusion, which she was quite sure the Scuffock likely shared.

Upon this realisation, and a touch of magic to deduce where the older Celtic creature was, she had assembled herself in her body armour, meticulously cleaned and prepared by Luana, who also presented her with the mask that she had designed, and the wig that she had gotten her in order to take a more active role in the events happening here in Beacon Hills without actually revealing herself, and Melody had promised her a new pair of shoes and a purse to match should everything come up the way she wanted it to.

That though, was the tricky part.

"The real problem is now Agravaine's power. Before he had corrupted the Nemeton, hell, even before he had essentially killed Scott, he would have died with the Owlman, and one way or another, it would all be over." Melody stated, and Martagh nodded as she came to stand beside the girl, glaring resentfully at the Nemeton's choked and twisted stump as she did so.

"Quite so. However, now he has the power bank of the True Alpha, who's pack has turned on him, and to add insult to injury, he's also basically killed Scott, as such, when Scott dies, Agravaine will inherit his power. Essentially, Agravaine had made himself unstoppable. Even when Hollis dies, and the curse should break, as it won't be able to kill Agravaine due to him now having a power immunity, the curse will simply roll on and on in perpetuity. Agravaine will remain an extremely powerful Gwyllgi, in fact, he'll most likely get much stronger, perhaps morph into some other monstrosity as a result."

Melody nodded, this was indeed the same discussion that she'd had with Luana. The problem was the nature of the curse, and the fact that the original battery for the curse was long dead. It had transferred to Hollis, and with his messing around with magic in order to become the Owlman, it had simply strengthened the curse inexorably, and conversely, and likely unknown to Hollis, had actually made Agravaine that much stronger as well. Hollis, combined with the magical alterations he had made to himself, had made himself a recharging battery for the curse. But now, that particularly battery was burning out, yet the object of the curse was now strong enough to survive the power surge that come from the end of the curse, so he would remain a Gwyllgi, and the curse would last despite there no longer being a battery as one aspect of it hadn't been resolved.

The maddening thing was, the curse itself was easy enough to break. As they now knew from their various bits of eavesdropping on the pack, the curse was anchored to the ring. If they destroyed it, the curse would conceivably end. The problem was now Agravaine's power, and Hollis' impending mortality, as both factors would continue rolling on unless a new battery was found. The battery, the soil for want of a better word, was the key. If the curse ended and Hollis died but Agravaine survived, Agravaine would always be a virtually unstoppable Gwyllgi, if not worse, as Martagh had said. Agravaine's corruptive powers, and his immense and considerably increasing strength, meant that he would be that much harder to be stopped, if he could be stopped at all.

But if they could disrupt the curse in some way, to end the curse in one aspect to allow them to deal with another…

If they changed the battery!

"Hollis is dying, nothing can be done about that. But what if we gave the curse a new battery? Then Hollis death wouldn't cement the curse in perpetuity, and it could still in theory be undone. Hollis would die, and the new battery would ensure that the curse could still be broken, but would continue rolling on." She explained, and Martagh mused, then looked at Melody suspiciously.

"Well, in theory that would help, but with what's happened to Scott, there's now nobody powerful enough in Beacon Hills to become the battery, it would need to be transferred from Hollis to someone else while the Owlman was still alive, which wouldn't help us stop Agravaine either. The curse needs to be bound to a living battery, if not it just rolls on. If we could transfer it to someone powerful enough, their life force could charge the curse, and then provided we got it off them when they were still alive, we could then break the curse. But with no potential battery-" she lamented, until she stopped and turned to the Beasturo agent beside her, and noticed the cunning and ambitious light dancing in the girl's eyes, and realised exactly what the girl was thinking; hell, it was the same thing she was thinking!

"You want to make Agravaine the battery for his own curse? That would make his very existence a self-sustained loop!" she protested, but yes, the more she thought about it, the more she could see that this could just be the very answer they were looking for, crazy though it sounded.

Melody shrugged, fluttering her wings out a little as she did so. She had to admit, she'd had better plans, but the problem wasn't the curse, or even the ring; the problem was the fact that Hollis was dying, and now Agravaine was strong enough to survive his nemesis' death. So, perhaps the way they went about stopping the Gwyllgi from becoming an all-powerful, self-sustaining, unstoppable enemy was to actually control how he became an all-powerful, self-sustaining, unstoppable enemy.

"Hey, I don't like it either, but think about it! It would suit Agravaine to a T! If we transferred the curse to him, he would live as long as he was cursed, and he would be cursed as long as he lived! So if we could then break the curse following that happening then…"

"Then the curse would break, he would no longer be a Gwyllgi, and most likely go back to whatever he was before he was cursed, which in theory should make him easier to defeat. But if we don't do it right, Hollis is dead, Agravaine is then rendered immortal, which to me is the sticking point." Martagh pointed out, and Melody smirked.

"Yes, we make an extremely arrogant, power-hungry maniac immortal. And then, we let nature, his nature, take it's natural and majestic course." She told the Scuffock, and for the first time since they had started talking, Martagh felt a strange feeling blossom inside her chest: genuine hope.

Agravaine was profoundly arrogant, and by taking on the curse and making himself immortal, he might just make a fatal miscalculation, which, Gaia willing, would turn out to be his final undoing.

"You, child, are very cunning, you're one to watch. Your masters must be so proud." Martagh complimented with a small smile, and Melody winked at her.

"I try my best. Do you think it can work?" she asked, and Martagh mulled it over in her head.

It was outlandish, very left field, however, nothing else had worked. And by anchoring the curse to Agravaine himself meant that they still had the ability to stop it, and hopefully him, once and for all. And indeed, if the plan worked the way this agent hoped, it could in fact be enough to pull it out the bag in the final hour, one last roll of the dice.

And this plan, combined with the ritual the girl had given her, could in fact be just what they needed, a true Divine Move.

There was work to be done.

"This is all dependent on the pack, well, what's left of it." Martagh mused, and Melody looked concerned, before the Scuffock put her hand reassuringly on the agent's shoulder.

"However, I've come to know them quite well of late. They are more of a pack than even they know, and despite their temporary amnesia…they are all loyal to Scott, even Jackson. There may not be much hope, but there is, a fool's hope." She assured the girl, and Melody smiled a little.

She would take a fool's hope, she just had to hope that the Scuffock's optimism was better placed than her cynicism. However, she mused amusedly, she had learned one thing during her time here, that she feared Agravaine hadn't realised yet himself: it was very dangerous to underestimate Scott and his friends.

She only hoped she was right.

"I hope you're right. I'll be seeing you, Emancipated One." She told her, and Martagh looked at her, more curious than suspicious now.

"What sort of interest do you have in all this?" she asked, and Melody winked at her.

"A vested one. Good luck, I think we're all going to need it." She warned, then extended her black wings and jetted into the air and out of sight.

Martagh mused that the girl's masters, and they were obviously someone high up in the Beasturo, would be very proud of her. And the fact that there was such a powerful operative of the Beasturo in Beacon Hills, that too boded something: good or ill, she couldn't yet say.

But, now she had work to do. She had something of a solution, but for this to work, she needed to check the ritual first, at first glance it did seem suitable, but she had to be sure, after all, as her mother had always said, beware hags bearing rituals. True she had been talking about her aunt at the time, who was a notorious hack, however, the lesson remained the same.

And then, then she would have to see if she could help Scott in any way.

After all, the boy, like Stiles, was linked symbiotically to the Nemeton, which was part of the reason he'd been so negatively affected by all that had happened recently. Their role in reactivating it, and the loss of one of the sacrifices that did it, had only strengthened the bond between Scott and the Nemeton, and being the only true supernatural one out the two, he felt the effects much more keenly. And if she could indeed purge it with this ritual, then it could just give Scott a last little burst of life, a last infusion of power, to hopefully see all this through to a conclusion.

She had spent much of her time helping Lydia, her true apprentice. However, by doing so, she had neglected the young Alpha who so clearly needed her help, but now, it was time to change that.

Before it was too late.

XX

Stiles was restless, he had to know what was happening to Scott. Coincidentally, that was also linked with knowing what Bonnie was up to, but so far there had been no contact from anyone in the pack, not that that was unexpected since they all believed he was a traitor. But Isaac or Scott, surely Isaac would have told Scott by now, or was the Prime Beta so angry at him that he wouldn't tell Scott about the note he'd slipped into his pocket?

No, Isaac wouldn't do that, he loved Scott too much and far too loyal to him to keep something like that from him. Stiles sagged miserably as he watched Agravaine boasting to an enraptured Thane and Malakai about how he had defeated Scott, and Stiles felt sick to his stomach. This was all his fault, he should never have gone undercover, if he hadn't, Scott wouldn't have been so broken down and dispirited, and hence such easy prey for Agravaine. He had done this to his best friend, he just wished he knew what this was!

But he was stuck here, keeping a cautious distance from the other dogs, and just waiting for Bonnie to return. What exactly had the weredog realised about Agravaine, and why was she so convinced that it was some form of gamechanger? Was she right, could he trust her? After all she knew about him, but she hadn't gone running straight to Agravaine, so did that mean he could trust her, well at least as far as he could in his present situation?

"Are you alright?" a soft voice asked, and Stiles barely suppressed a yelp of surprise as he turned, raising his gauntlet to defend himself, only to find Rhyley standing behind him, trying and failing not to smirk.

The youngest of the weredogs was probably the most approachable after Bonnie admittedly, and Stiles had mused on numerous occasions that if you ruled out the whole gytrash thing and the fact that he and his pack were hellbent on destroying Scott and all his friends, he was actually alright.

"Yeah, now, why aren't you over there, celebrating your victory over Scott? Agravaine seems…seems to think it's over." Stiles said, admitting it filling his heart with pain and his stomach with bile.

For if Agravaine thought it was over, thought he had won, after what he had done to Scott, then that meant whatever was happening to Scott wasn't good, and that, coupled with Lydia's banshee scream left Stiles in no uncertain illusions about what was happening to his best friend, his brother, the very person he had helped destroy. What the hell had he been thinking?

Rhyley shrugged, looking anxiously over at where Malakai was sitting beside Agravaine, pride of place, with Agravaine fondly stroking his more murderous gytrash's hair while Thane flanked him, glaring resentfully at the young gytrash, and now that he'd heard from Bonnie about Thane's unrequited feelings for Agravaine, it was actually obvious in hindsight. Thane was totally in love with Agravaine, however it seemed as though Agravaine either hadn't noticed or just didn't care, and he was spending all his time moulding and twisting Malakai, who also didn't seem to notice that he was being shaped into being Agravaine's perfect little plaything.

"Not really my thing really, not my scene. Do you know where Bonnie went? When Agravaine is like this with Malakai, I mean it's not like I can talk to Eoghan and Ciara, they're always together, but at least I can talk to her usually. And well, if she's not here, there's always you!" the youngest dog said brightly, and despite himself, Stiles smiled a little, curiously touched despite himself.

"Thanks, I think. What's that about?" Stiles asked, because it was kind of gross watching Agravaine essentially grooming Malakai, and Rhyley screwed his face up in distaste.

"No idea, Malakai was always Agravaine's favourite. I think it's creepy, but Malakai loves being treated like that, made to feel special." The younger of the dogs explained, his face pale and concerned as he watched Agravaine with his brother, and Stiles cocked his head at him curiously.

"How did you guys fall in with him anyway? I know Eoghan and Ciara lost their kid, and so did Bonnie by the sounds of it," he said darkly, though didn't elaborate, he didn't want Bonnie to think he was speaking about her behind his back, "but you two are both too young, I mean how old are you?" he asked, and Rhyley shrugged.

"Kind of lost track, probably same age as you, maybe a bit younger. We lost track after Daisy…" he explained, and Stiles, sensing there was perhaps another vital clue to all that was going on within the Ghost Pack coming his way, hesitantly extended a hand and laid a hand on his shoulder, and Rhyley flinched at the contact, before looking directly at Stiles.

He really wasn't like the others, their eyes were all hard, with very little compassion within them, but Rhyley was different, his eyes were kinder, less hardened and damaged than those of the others, and he ran a hand through his slightly messy longish hair as he avoided looking at Stiles.

"Daisy, she was our sister. Our parents died when we were little, and we didn't have anywhere else to go, we wound up in an orphanage. She was older than us, looked out for me and Malakai, me especially since I'm the baby. She was just about to get out the orphanage, had a job lined up and a place where we could all be together, you know, be a family. She worked so hard, trying her best to raise two younger weredogs while juggling her own transformations, but she did it, and well too." He explained, rubbing his exposed arms, which hadn't been tattooed with the lives of his victims like his brother's had, and Stiles had a horrible feeling that this story wasn't going to end well.

"So what happened?" Stiles asked, and Rhyley let out a low growl, his eyes flashing that glowing crimson that they did as he did so.

"Daisy was invited to a meeting with someone, she said she had to go and deal with it, she said if it went well, the three of us wouldn't have a problem anymore, everything would be fine and we'd all be together. She, she didn't come home." Rhyley mumbled, and Stiles felt kind of awful for asking about it in the first place.

Seemed that even being a weredog didn't protect you from the maniacs out there, especially if those maniacs were also supernaturally inclined.

"Who-who was she meeting?" Stiles asked, and Rhyley growled angrily.

"The rector, he helped her get everything set up. He insisted she had been alive when he saw her last, but they found her body a few days later, she'd-they'd slit her throat, even her powers couldn't save her! He'd attacked her and killed our big sister, and Malakai, he'd always been angry, he was so angry, so pissed at the world, it had taken our parents from us, and now it had taken our sister too! We wanted to get back at the rector, there's no way he didn't know what happened, we both wanted to make him hurt, make him pay! But we couldn't…and that's Agravaine found us, he helped us. He made us stronger, and with his help, we made the rector pay, we killed him and anyone else who got in our way, like they deserved." Rhyley spat, and while there was a sadistic lilt to his voice, the same one Malakai had, the same one Aiden still displayed on occasion, it was softer, more full of self-recrimination than not, and that gave Stiles pause.

Rhyley wasn't totally evil, wasn't totally sadistic, he was actually more akin to Ethan, just like Malakai was more akin to Aiden. They had been forced into becoming murderers, and twisted, corrupted, just like everyone else, all by Agravaine.

Why did Stiles suddenly have a feeling there was a missing piece to this story that the two boys didn't know?

"So he helped you get back at the rector?" he asked darkly, his mind filling in the blanks, and Rhyley nodded an affirmative.

"He made us strong, we made them pay for what they did to Daisy. But, we had nowhere else to go, so we just stayed with Agravaine. Bonnie kind of looks after us, Eoghan and Ciara do too to an extent, and I'm still the one getting babied. It's tough at times, Malakai wasn't always you know, psychotic, he was always angry, but he didn't like killing, it's like he got a taste for it, and Agravaine…he makes it worse. He likes Malakai being sadistic, nasty, horrible. Sometimes it's like he's not my brother, he's Agravaine's pet." He spat angrily, glowering over at where his brother was regaling Agravaine with tales of the battle, Agravaine laughing indulgently while Thane glowered at him from his position sitting with Eoghan and Ciara, currently trying to beat Eoghan while arm wrestling.

"Agravaine took you in, he didn't need to do it." Stiles pointed out, not knowing quite what else to say.

If he'd found this out while with his pack, he knew exactly what he would be saying, that the whole thing was just off, it smelled fishy, it smelled worse than that. Their sister, their guardian had been murdered, and days later, Agravaine had appeared, goading them into giving into their dark impulses and corrupted them, turning them into gytrashes, and gaining himself the allegiance of two more murderers for his pack. Yeah, you didn't have to be Columbo to figure this one out, he thought with a dark scowl, unless he was way off the mark, Agravaine's arrival coinciding with the death of the two brother's sister was shady as hell.

"No, he didn't, and I'm glad he did, we still have a home, technically. It's just…I don't know why I'm even telling you all this." He concluded in irritation, and Stiles allowed himself a small smile as he nudged the younger gytrash with his shoulder.

"It helps to get another perspective at times. Hey, I'm one of you lot now, might as well do it properly." He told him, and Rhyley smiled a little as he turned to look at Stiles.

"You're not really, you're not as broken as the rest of us, not really. You're damaged, but not broken. Thanks though, for this. I came over to try and take your mind off Scott, but I made it all about me." He lamented, and Stiles looked at him curiously.

"Why would you care though?" he asked, and Rhyley shrugged.

"Maybe because I know what it's like to watch friends die, maybe because you looked miserable, or maybe because I needed to vent, Malakai isn't so much for the listening." He complained, and Stiles laughed, as much as the current predicament he was in would allow.

"I can imagine, especially once Agravaine turned up, he kind of seems to relish being his favourite." He commented, and Rhyley rolled his eyes.

"Course he does, Agravaine encourages his homicidal impulses and he can wind up Thane at the same time. It's a win win. He became a gytrash first you know, when Agravaine came and helped us with our transformations so we could get at the rector, he did it first, transformed properly." He told him, and somehow, that didn't surprise Stiles in the slightest.

"When he showed up, right after your sister was murdered?" Stiles asked gently, and Rhyley flinched a little, before looking at Stiles anxiously, his eyes going hard as he did so.

"Wait, what are you saying?" he demanded, and Stiles shook his head, though had to suppress a smirk of triumph, it was clear that all it took to begin to unravel things was indeed, a fresh pair of eyes.

"Nothing, just thinking out loud." He assured him, and Rhyley nodded, though as he left, he threw a worried look over at Stiles, and then looked nervously over at Malakai who was still glorifying in Agravaine's favour as he retreated.

Stiles suppressed a small smile. Looks like Peter wasn't the only one who could make a snide comment in passing and just let the butterfly effect take hold from there. And besides, it wasn't like he was lying. As his father always said, once was an accident, twice a coincidence, three times was a pattern. And Stiles was fairly certain that Agravaine had miraculously turned up just as some tragedy had befallen each member of his pack, with the exception of Thane. And that made a pattern, a very alarming one indeed.

Because if Agravaine really had been involved in the deaths that had tipped his pack into becoming the corrupted monsters they now were, that meant he wasn't just a killer, or a maniac. He was a completely sociopathic, perverted, manipulative murderer with a fear of rejection and a narcissus complex as big as the Empire State building.

And that, Stiles thought with a shudder, was a thought that chilled him right down to the bone.

Well, we knew it was coming, Isaac losing it with their so-called friends. But, is everything lost quite yet?

And Martagh has also made progress as well in trying to fix this whole mess, with a little help from Melody naturally

This is the start of the second last episode, we're nearly there, so thank you for sticking around so long, and if you feel so inclined please read and review!