We scrambled up the stairs and sprinted as far away from the basement as possible.

"Wait!" Scott called, and to my utter horror, slowed down.

"Did Stiles not teach you anything!" I hissed, grabbing his arm in an attempt to drag him faster. He shook me off.

"No, do you guys hear that ringing?"

We stopped and listened for a second, but I couldn't hear anything over our panting and the heart threatening to beat out of my chest.

I began to shake my head, sweat pouring down the back of my neck, when Scott's eyes widened.

"It's Allison's phone."

I could have cried. I couldn't even tell if it was out of worry for Allison or fear that we now had one more distraction to stop us from getting to an exit. All I could do was gulp in air whilst Scott demanded Stiles' phone.

I leaned against a row of lockers and Stiles wandered over to me as Scott spoke to Allison.

"I'm sorry," Stiles mumbled, vaguely in my direction.

It took everything I had to turn my head and look at him.

"If I could spare the effort," I panted. "I'd cut off the oxygen to your lungs and let you slowly suffocate."

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "You can do that?"

I exhaled heavily. "Almost get me killed again and you'll find out."

"She's heading to the lobby now," Scott said, hurrying past us. "Come on."

With something akin to a wail, I pushed off from the lockers and began the painfully fast jog to the lobby. Scott barely waited for us and was through the double doors in seconds. Stiles and I followed at a bit of a distance.

"Why did you come here?" Scott asked frantically, rushing over to Allison. "What are you doing here?"

Allison frowned. "Because you asked me to."

"Because I asked you to?" Scott repeated in surprise.

Allison pulled up a text on her phone and showed it to us. Sure enough, it was signed from Scott. She looked past Stiles and her eyebrows rose considerably when she saw me.

"Uh, hi Winona," she said awkwardly. "I didn't know you were friends with Scott and Stiles."

I waved her off, too busy bending at the waist to catch my breath.

"It's a long story," I told her.

"Why do I get the feeling that you didn't send this message?" Allison said to Scott.

"Because I didn't."

Stiles pushed past Scott. "Did you drive here?" he asked sternly.

She shook her head. "Jackson did."

"Jackson's here?" I spluttered, feeling my soul leave my body. Well, wasn't this fantastic, we might as well be having an after party.

"And Lydia too," Allison answered, brandishing her phone. "What's going on? Who sent this text?"

I laughed humourlessly, feeling a little more recovered but also totally convinced that we were all going to die.

"If you can believe it, that's actually the least of our problems."

Allison's phone rung as Scott shot me a look, which essentially translated to 'please stop being oh so helpful Winona'. I bit my tongue as Allison answered.

"Where are you?"

The double doors behind us burst open and I jumped into a defensive stance, before Lydia and Jackson ploughed through it. I straightened up and ignored Stiles' poor attempt at hiding his laughter.

"Finally!" Lydia sighed dramatically. "Can we go now?"

I hadn't actually had the pleasure of meeting Lydia yet and now that she was stood before me, I could see why even though I was only two days in, I already knew that she was Beacon Hills High's answer to Blair Waldorf. Her reputation had preceded her. She was undoubtedly beautiful, with perfectly styled red hair and shiny pink lip gloss. And she was absolutely dripping in privilege. First impressions wanted me to believe that there was a little more to her than Jackson though, something other than entitlement simmering under the surface, but only time would tell.

She fixed me with an interesting look, finally noticing me.

"You must be the Winona, I've been hearing so much about," she said lightly, looking me up and down.

I smiled, feeling more caught between two worlds now, than ever before. I had just finished a game of werewolf and mouse and now, I was being appraised for threats by the most popular girl in school.

"Charmed, I'm sure," I replied.

The rest of my cool girl quip was cut off by a loud thud right above our heads.

"Oh, for the love of-"

"Run!" Scott yelled, dragging Allison by the hand down the hallway.

Stiles turned back to look at me and preceded my reluctance to do any more sprinting by grabbing my hand and following them. I mock-whimpered and allowed myself to be pulled by him, having to work harder than I wanted to keep up with his long legs. The sound of shoes hitting marble behind us, let me know that Lydia and Jackson were in hot pursuit.

We clambered up a flight of stairs and were spurred on faster by what I could only assume was the Alpha, crashing through the lobby ceiling. That certainly helped to spike my panic levels and I forced myself to move faster, ignoring the burning in my entire body.

I could feel him right behind us, causing the lockers to rattle and the entire hallway to shake beneath our feet. Lydia gasped and I glanced over my shoulder, seeing her terrified face. I held on tighter to Stiles' hand and then reached back and grabbed Lydia's, pulling her along a little faster. To my surprise, she didn't immediately shake me off and instead encased me in a death grip, her long nails digging painfully into my skin.

We rocketed through the cafeteria doors and Scott slammed them shut behind us. I truly believed that I would be haunted by the sound of slamming doors for the rest of my days.

Scott slotted the deadbolts into place and then ran for a vending machine. Jackson and I hurried over to help him and together, we hauled it into place in front of the doors.

Stiles protested, and I caught him looking out of the windows vaguely.

"Stiles, get over here!" I yelled, pushing the machine the last few feet.

"The chairs- stack the chairs!" Scott commanded and Allison and Lydia immediately set about pushing chairs in our direction.

Stiles mumbled something and my frustration with him grew. Why wasn't he helping?

I helped Jackson lift a set of stacked chairs onto the vending machine and then moved a few more in front of the door with the girls.

"Hello?" Stiles shouted and we all turned to look at him in panicked unison.

"Okay, nice work, beautiful job everyone," he mocked.

"Get on with it Stilinski," I threatened, and he sucked in a breath.

"Now, what should we do about the 20 feet tall, wall of windows?" he asked, gesturing dramatically at the massive glass windows to the right of us.

"Fuck," I snorted, feeling downright hysterical. I exhaled painfully. "You've got us there."

Allison whirled around to Scott. "Can someone please explain to me, what's going on?" she grabbed his arm. "Because I'm freaking out here and I would like to know why."

She looked beseechingly at her boyfriend. "Scott?"

I edged away from them slowly and sidled up next to Stiles, feeling like I would probably be much safer over here than in the middle of that.

Scott brushed Allison off and put his head in his hands. I had to admit, she had us over a barrel here. How the hell do you admit to your girlfriend that your murderous and oh yeah, werewolf Alpha, was trying to kill us all?

Scott looked over at us pleadingly and Stiles bit his lip, caving into Scott's puppy dog eyes. I held my breath, watching him debate in his head on how much to say.

"Someone killed the janitor," he said finally.

"What?" Lydia breathed, mascara tears marring her porcelain complexion.

"Yeah, the janitor's dead."

Scott turned away from us and Allison looked after him in shock.

"What?" she said in disbelief. "What's Stiles talking about?" she asked Scott. "Is this a joke?"

"Who killed him?" Jackson demanded, speaking for the first time all evening. His voice held a slight tremor, but I could see the cogs turning in his brain. I wasn't sure how much he knew, but it was more than the two girls. I could feel it.

"No, no, no…" Lydia whispered. "This was supposed to be over. The mountain lion killed…"

"Don't you get it?" Jackson sneered at her, his face twisting cruelly. "There was no mountain lion."

"What does he want?" Allison asked, her tone pleading and desperate.

Scott looked as if he were about to cry. I felt completely hopeless- this wasn't my secret to tell.

"Scott!" Allison snapped.

God, it was like watching a car crash. My heart was breaking for Scott, but I couldn't look away. Stiles and I just stared; our mouths set in grim lines.

"I- I don't know," Scott stammered eventually. "I just- if we go out there, he's going to kill us."

"Us?" Lydia repeated shrilly. "He's going to kill us?"

"Who?" Allison begged. "Who is it?" She looked at me, with her big, sad eyes and I found myself opening my mouth.

"It's Derek," Scott blurted out. "It's Derek Hale." aleHHHHjhfgjkgklg

My mouth snapped shut in shock and Stiles and I stared at each other with wide eyes, as questions began to filter past us at the speed of light.

"Scott," I tried, but he brushed past me.

"I saw him. He killed them all," he said. "Starting with his own sister. And the bus driver and the guy in the video store. It's been Derek all along."

"Scott!" I shouted. "This isn't-"

Scott's eyes blazed into mine. "You know it's Derek," he said forcefully. "You saw him too. We all did!"

I shook my head. I refused to be a part of this narrative, and Stiles looked just as uncomfortable.

"I-"

Scott cut me off. "He's in here with us," he pressed to the group. "And if we don't get out, he's going to kill us, too."

I put my hand to my mouth. This had spiralled out of control so fast. What was Scott doing?

There was no taking any of this back. I thought of Derek lying somewhere outside, his body broken and felt sick to my stomach.

"Call the cops," Jackson said.

"No." Stiles replied instantly.

"What do you mean, no?" Jackson asked in disbelief.

"I mean no!" Stiles retorted. "Do you want to hear it in Spanish? No."

"Look," I said, trying to get the attention away from Stiles. We couldn't have this whole police argument again; Stiles and I were undoubtedly a minority on that particular issue.

My words sounded hollow as I repeated Scott's accusations, left with no other alternative.

"Derek- Derek killed three people. We don't know what he's armed with."

"His dad is armed with an entire sheriff's department!" Jackson argued. A vein stood out on his neck. "Call him!"

"I'm calling him!" Lydia announced, pulling out her phone.

I lunged for her instantly. "Lydia no! I don't want to make this weird because we don't really know each other but give me your phone!"

Scott held me back as the call picked up and Lydia repeated our location and that we needed help.

"Judas," I hissed under my breath at Scott, who looked like he was seconds away from a complete mental breakdown.

Stiles glanced at me gratefully and then turned his gaze on Lydia, looking as if he were holding his breath.

I know that I had been trying to back Stiles up until now, I completely got why he didn't want to get his dad involved. But the part of me which wanted to believe that we really were running from Derek Hale hoped to God that he picked up anyway. We needed a fucking grown up.

Lydia let her arm holding the phone fall to her side limply. She turned to us, an expression of shock on her face.

"She hung up," she said numbly. "She said they got a tip off about a prank call from the high school. If I call again, she's going to trace it and have me arrested."

"Okay, then call again!" Allison pushed shrilly as I held my fingers to my temples. I massaged them tenderly, feeling the headache which had been brewing, threatening to spill over.

"They won't trace a cell," Stiles said. "And they'll send a car to your house before they send anyone here."

"What the…" Allison stammered, mimicking my hands on her temples. "Why is this happening? Why does Derek want to kill us- why is he killing anyone?" She was borderline hysterical.

We all looked to Scott- Mr Confession extraordinaire for answers.

"Why is everyone looking at me?" he snapped angrily, his words echoing harshly in the dimly lit room.

Allison turned away from us, tears in her eyes.

"Okay," Stiles soothed, taking over as resident peacekeeper. "Why don't we ease up on the throttle for a second." He grabbed Scott by the shoulders and steered him away from the group.

I was left loitering with the other three, feeling like an intruder.

"Winona!" Stiles barked over his shoulder at me.

"Oh, that's me." I looked to the others and gave them an awkward little smile before scampering over to Scott and Stiles, relief blooming in my chest.

"Okay," Stiles began, his tone low. "First off, throwing Derek under the bus, nicely done."

"I didn't know what to say!" Scott protested. "I had to say something!"

I leaned in as well. "I don't know, how about 'I'm a werewolf and we're being hunted by a bigger, scarier, werewolf.' That could have been better," I added helpfully. "In fact, anything would have been better than doubling down on the world's shittest lie, you colossal fucking genius."

Scott glowered at me. "If he's dead, then it doesn't matter, does it?"

"Except if he's not," I scoffed. "Or they, you know, find his dead fucking body."

"Okay, you're really not helping!" Stiles said to me.

I shrugged. "My patience for these sorts of things starts to wear thin after a night of running for my life."

"God," Scott murmured, distractedly. "I totally just bit her head off."

I looked at Stiles incredulously. Were we really talking about Scott's girlfriend right now? Were we really talking about his sodding girlfriend right now?

Stiles jerked his head at me. "And she'll totally get over it!" he said cheerily. "Bigger issues at hand here, like how do we get out alive?"

I bit the inside of my cheek. Stiles was a far more patient person than I.

Scott finally focussed. "But we are alive!" he said. "It could have killed us already and it hasn't. It's like it's cornering us or something."

"So, what," Stiles quipped. "It wants to eat us all together?"

"Mm, a junior buffet," I muttered darkly.

"No." Scott retorted. "Derek said it wants revenge."

"Against who?" I asked.

Scott shook his head. "I don't know, Allison's family maybe?"

"Maybe that's what the text was about," Stiles reasoned.

I frowned. "I don't know," I said slowly. "That feels a little cut and dry. A little too clean for all the drama here tonight."

Stiles blinked at me. "What about this has been cut and dry?"

I made to argue back, a strange feeling in my chest about the whole thing, when Jackson interrupted.

"Alright assheads, new plan!" he announced. "Stiles is going to call his useless dad and tell him to send someone with a gun and decent aim. Are we good with that?"

Stiles gazed around at all of us, first in disbelief and then desperately. I shook my head when his eyes landed on me, to let him know that I backed him, but Scott leant in.

"He's right," he pleaded. "Tell him the truth if you have to- just get him here."

Stiles continued to stare at his friend, open-mouthed. "I'm not going to watch my dad get eaten alive," he said finally.

"Alright, give me the phone!" Jackson ordered and tried to snatch it from Stiles.

I moved to launch myself at him, but Stiles had me beat and swung wide, punching him in the face. Jackson staggered away, clutching his face and the girls flocked to him. Scott grabbed Stiles and looked like he was about to reprimand him, but I appeared on his other side and gave him the steeliest look I could manage.

Scott backed off instantly.

"Are you okay?" Allison was muttering to Jackson, and she looked at us reproachfully.

I didn't enjoy being on the opposite side to her, but I had to go with my gut. Stiles was in the right and I could be painfully loyal when I needed to be.

After a few seconds of incredibly uncomfortable silence, Stiles angrily fished around in his pocket for his phone and put it to his ear. I could hear him breathing heavily and felt the indignation rolling off him in waves.

He got his dad's voicemail and began leaving a message when something thumped on the other side of the door.

"We're at the school okay?" he said, his voice instantly growing frantic. "We're at the school."

I grabbed Lydia, instantly singling her out as our biggest liability and pulled her out of the way, just as the doors clattered ominously again. We stood and watched on as the bolts shot out of their locks.

Lydia clung to my arm desperately and her terror was infectious.

"The stairs," Stiles said suddenly. "There's an exit through the kitchen."

I shook my head stiffly. "We won't make it." It was practically already in the room with us.

For the second time that night, I weighed my options. We could all run for it- sprint for our lives and hope to God that we made it. But the Alpha was almost through the doors and squeezing six of us into a little stairwell could be a death sentence.

Unless someone held him off.

I took a shaky breath and looked at Scott. "Everyone needs to run," I said, trying desperately not to choke on my words. "I'll hold him off for as long as I can."

"No way!" Scott and Stiles shouted vehemently in unison. Allison looked like she was about to burst into tears and her face made the decision for me.

"Yes," I pressed urgently, untangling myself from Lydia and moving towards the dreaded double doors.

Stiles launched himself at me and gripped my arm.

"Don't you dare," he said in a low voice, his brown eyes boring holes in mine. The intensity in their dark depths made my next breath catch in my throat and it came out as more of a quiet gasp.

"Sorry," I said with a small smile, hoping to hide the wobble in my voice. "But Buffy always falls on her stake."

I pulled my arm out of his grasp and closed the distance between myself and the doors, stopping short of them. I rolled my sleeves up.

"Run, now." I ordered over my shoulder, not trusting myself to look back in case I was left trapped in Stiles' gaze forever.

"I'm sorry," Jackson said incredulously. "Really appreciate the sacrifice and everything but how exactly is Thumbelina here, going to hold off a crazed murderer? The dude is completely jacked."

I snorted, my terror abating a bit. In a weird way, I was grateful for Jackson's shitty demeanour. It made things feel a little less like a funeral in here.

"I'm a black belt in karate you cheeky bastard."

Stiles laughed, deep in the back of his throat and I smiled to myself. Scott gathered the others, and I closed my eyes as they left. I imagined that maybe Stiles stopped to glance back at me over his shoulder and it helped keep the stupid teenage girl tears at bay.

I centred myself with a deep breath, just as the doors rocked again. Flexing my fingers, I concentrated on my task. I just had to buy them five minutes.

Five minutes.

I summoned air first. Up until now, I had been doing lazy, low maintenance magic. Pulling energy from whatever was already present. But this time, the room was still, the windows were firmly shut, and it was time to pull out the big guns.

It had been a while since I had actually had to do any element summoning, but it was just like riding a bike. I turned my attention inwards and pulled from somewhere deep- somewhere ancient. I channelled entire ancestry lines of the witches who came before me, and summoned magic directly from Nyx herself, if the stories were to be believed.

For a brief second, the air around me grew very still. The silence was deafening. And then it was a storm. I was a hurricane, a force fuelled directly by nature. I felt the power feed through my fingers, and I wasn't ashamed to admit that I lost myself in it.

The doors rocked on their hinges again, shifting the vending machine forwards. I could see burning red eyes through the gap, as my hair and clothes whipped around me in a frenzy.

"Sorry," I said loudly, to be heard over the wind. "I've never been much of a runner."

The Alpha snarled and threw himself at the doors.

With a hand movement reminiscent of a passionate conductor, I forced the doors closed with a bang which rattled the windows. It took everything in me to restrain myself enough to not snap the doors clear off their hinges.

The Alpha grunted in surprise as he was shunted backwards. I heard his paws scrabble desperately on the hallway floors.

Once recovered, he howled furiously. It sent shivers down my spine.

But he couldn't touch me now.

I dug my heels in and forced the doors closed once more, straining as the Alpha threw himself at them again and again. Sweat began to trickle down my forehead and I felt my hair spring up in wet curls around my face.

"You're not going to win," I rasped, the blood pounding furiously in my ears. "You can't have Scott and you can't have us."

The Alpha growled but it sounded more like a scream. A scream of frustration.

I laughed. "You can't have us!" I cried, sweat and spit flying off me.

The windows were rattling furiously in their frames, and it felt like the ground was shifting beneath my feet. I could feel him pushing back, putting everything he had into forcing himself through those doors. It was a battle of wills, supernatural in nature but distinctly human at the base of it. Power transcended magic, at the end of the day. Power transcended everything.

And then it stopped. From his side anyway. The war raging on his side of the doors suddenly ceased.

I hesitantly wound down the wind, listening attentively for signs of life.

There was nothing.

I was gasping, as if I hadn't taken in air the entire time, and left standing alone in the cafeteria. When a few seconds passed and I wasn't immediately mauled, I allowed myself to suck in a few lungsful of air.

I didn't allow myself long to recover and quickly wound round all of the tables and into the kitchen, searching for Stiles' stairwell. When I found the door, I rushed up the stairs and was thrown out into another dark hallway. I thought maybe that it was by the labs, but it was almost impossible to tell.

"Winona!"

I jumped out of my skin at the sound of my whispered name, my nerves completely shot. I immediately turned on my heel, my hands raised defensively.

"Oh, God, Scott it's you," I exhaled shakily. His brown eyes blinked back at me in the dim light, the rest of his face and body materialising as he stepped out of the shadows.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

I attempted to smooth down my fringe at least, with a slightly shaky hand.

All I could do was nod back at him and without another word, he led me round the corner and then bundled me into a room. He locked the door behind us.

"Winona!"

Stiles rushed over, his face white as a sheet. Once I spotted him, the entire night caught up with me in one fell swoop. It was like being pushed off my feet by a massive wave, the force of it knocking the breath clear of me.

I staggered backwards slightly, feeling uneasy on my feet. Scott caught me from behind and grabbed my elbows, steering me over to a stool.

"Easy," he muttered, as I fell onto the chair and braced myself on the table.

"You're bleeding," Stiles said urgently. "What happened? Did he hurt you?"

Stiles raised a hand to my face and let it hang in the air, a few centimetres short of my cheek. I was very aware of the fact that everyone in the room was staring at us, I'm sure he was too. He hesitated and then let the hand fall to his side, where it hung limply as he cleared his throat.

"I'm fine," I said, trying for a reassuring tone, but coming up short. I was so tired. I wasn't even sure where I was supposedly bleeding from.

Oh. Of course.

I raised a trembling hand to my nose and my fingers came away, streaked with red. Bloody magic, always came at a price.

Allison appeared over Stiles' shoulder and pushed him out of the way gently.

"I come bearing cotton rounds," she smiled softly.

I let her dab at my face without fuss, the gentle touch of her hands threatening to send me to sleep. There was something almost maternal about the way she cleaned me up, so deliberately calm and collected. It made my chest pang painfully for my mum. But it also deepened my respect for Allison; she had had her teenage girl moment and then pushed through to womanhood in a matter of minutes. It had taken me all night to grasp onto a semblance of calm, and even then, it came and went with the tide.

"Keep this here to stem the bleeding for a little while," she told me. "And tip your head back."

"Aye, aye captain," I said thickly and did as she instructed. My lip curled as the pang of copper hit the back of my throat, but I pushed through it. The white noise humming in my ears, like TV static, was slowly abating and I was beginning to wind down.

It was just another thing that I didn't know whether it was a direct response to the magic or a side effect of being a human attempting to channel serious amounts of power. I felt like my body was short circuiting under the pressure of all the adrenaline.

"So, Scooby Gang- what's our next move?" I asked.

I dug around in my jacket pocket and pulled out my pack of cigarettes and lighter. I needed something to calm my fragile nerves. I slid one out of the packet and was just about to raise it to my lips, when I caught everyone's incredulous expressions. Stiles quirked his eyebrows at me.

I groaned and put them back in my pocket. I would have to settle for flicking my lighter nervously instead.

"Well, what was your plan before?" Lydia asked snippily. "Just run laps around the school until he gets tired?"

I had almost completely forgotten that Lydia and Jackson were even here. I swivelled my head round slightly and saw a scorned woman. There was no other word for it.

Lydia looked like she had had time to think, somewhere in between the cafeteria, running for her life and hiding away in the lab. She had mulled over her boyfriend's thuggish attitude towards her and complete lack of concern for her safety. Dissected the lingering glances from him at Allison.

And Lydia seemed pissed. She seemed quietly furious actually, I could feel her, woman-to-woman, simmering away from across the lab. It was quite awe-inspiring to be honest, she struck an intimidating figure. Evidently, no one took Lydia for a mug.

For those reasons alone, I chose not to jump down her ungrateful little throat, for the snide remark and bloody cheek, after I had just helped to save her life. She could have one free pass.

I measured my words carefully. "We were going to try to steal Derek's car."

"Jackson, how many people fit in your car?" Scott asked.

"Five," Jackson replied instantly, his previous sarcasm nowhere to be found now. "If someone squeezes on someone's lap."

"Five?" Allison repeated sceptically. "I barely fit in the back. There's six of us."

"Personally, I'd take being crushed in a poncey sports car to being murdered by a man with a track record," I interjected. "Put me in the boot, I could not be less bothered about whether or not I get a seatbelt."

"Why would someone put you in a boot?" Scott asked, just as Stiles said, "It doesn't matter. There's no getting out without drawing attention."

"What about this?" Scott pointed to a door at the back of the lab and walked over to it.

I sighed and got to my feet, preparing myself for yet another insane escape plan.

"This leads to the roof," he said, as we followed him over. "We could take the fire escape down to the parking lot in seconds."

I eyed the lock on the door critically. "That's a deadbolt my dude. Even I can't pick it."

Stiles fixed me with a curious look, whilst Scott appeared deep in thought for a second.

"The janitor will have a key," he said finally.

"You mean his body has it," Stiles retorted, not missing a beat.

As the current girl with a saviour complex, I premeditated Scott's next sentence instantly. I pushed past Allison and inserted myself between the two boys.

"Absolutely not." I said quietly but firmly, looking intently at Scott.

He didn't back down. "I can get it. I can find him by scent, by blood."

"Well, gee!" Stiles whispered sarcastically. "That sounds like an incredibly terrible idea. What else you got?"

"I could try to float us down, one by one?" I offered.

"And you haven't suggested this sooner because…?" Stiles asked sceptically.

"Well, I uh- have only tried it with boiled eggs so far and people are quite heavy."

Stiles and Scott blinked back at me.

"I'm up for giving it the old college try though."

Scott turned back to Stiles. "I'm getting the key."

He pushed past us determinedly and regrouped with the others. I heard Allison whisper something to him as Stiles and I begrudgingly joined him again.

"You can't go out unarmed!" Allison was saying desperately. It was hard not to agree with her.

"I'll go with you," I volunteered heroically. After tonight, there would definitely be a plaque in my honour. Maybe I could nominate myself for some sort of bravery award?

"Not a chance," Stiles said instantly.

"He'll die if he goes out there alone," I argued, as Scott grabbed the board pointer and waved it about like a sword.

"And you look liked you died back in the cafeteria," Stiles retorted. "The only thing keeping you up seems to be spite."

"That's fucking rude-"

"I've got it." Lydia said loudly, from over by one of the cupboards. "A fire bomb. In here is everything you need to make a Molotov cocktail. A self-igniting, Molotov cocktail."

I put a hand to my mouth and let out a quiet little gasp.

"Lydia, please GOD, show me how to make a Molotov cocktail."

Stiles groaned behind me.

We were all gathered around Lydia's workstation, watching her mix various chemicals. She had been narrating the process for me, seemingly pleased that I was so interested. I had been taking notes on chemical names and orders, up my arm, much to Stiles' chagrin.

"Jackson, hand me the sulphuric acid," she ordered, glancing at me to make sure that I had written it down. I shot her a thumbs up and blew on my arm to make the ink dry faster.

After adding the acid, Lydia stoppered the beaker, shook it a little and handed it to Scott. Allison seemed to be having something of a breakdown again.

"No, no," she was repeating. "This is insane. You can't do this- you can't go out there."

"Why not?" I answered. "He's got a Molotov cocktail!"

"We can't just sit here, waiting for Stiles' dad to check his messages," Scott countered.

"You could die!" Allison snapped angrily. "Don't you get that? He's killed three other fucking people."

"And we're next." Scott cut her off. "Somebody has to do something."

Scott walked to the door, but Allison caught his arm desperately. She lowered her voice and even though I couldn't hear her, I knew she was pleading with him to stay. It was deeply uncomfortable to watch, so I respectfully averted my eyes, landing on Jackson instead.

He seemed to be enjoying the friction between Allison and Scott- he had practically championed their squabbling all night. Right now, he was looking down at the desk, a small smirk playing on his lips. His obvious pleasure made my blood boil.

I twitched my fingers under the table and pinched them together, imagining his throat between them. His airways really. I watched as his next breath caught and he choked on it, spluttering uncontrollably for a few seconds.

"Jesus Jackson," I reprimanded mockingly. "Keep it down would you."

I couldn't help a little smirk of my own as his cheeks burned red and Lydia had to pat him on the back. He shook her off angrily and glared at me.

Satisfied with my own form of justice, I turned back to the tragic lovers, just in time to bear witness to Allison capturing Scott in a nauseatingly heart-breaking kiss.

Upsetting? Yes. Significantly more uncomfortable than their whispered argument? Also, yes.

After what felt like an eternity, Scott broke away, and with a quick glance at the rest of us, he was gone. Allison locked the door again behind him and then let the tears roll freely down her cheeks.

My legs moved of their own accord and before I could argue with myself, I was across the room and wrapping my arms around her. It was awkward to say the least, namely because Allison was a fucking tree, and I was more of a garden gnome height. Our leather jackets squeaked against each other as she hugged me back, burying her face in my shoulder for a second. It had been a long time since I had hugged anyone and I gingerly patted her on the back, as she composed herself. It was meant to be comforting, I hoped it was comforting.

It had been at least twenty minutes since Scott left.

I knew that because Allison had gotten disarmingly good at asking what the time was, precisely every two and a half minutes. Jackson and his Swiss watch were only too happy to oblige her.

We were sort of all clustered towards the back of the room, for some reason we felt safer as far away from the exit as possible. Allison was sitting cross-legged on a desk, with Jackson leaning up against it, beside her. Lydia had quickly tired of this new charming and all too helpful version of Jackson (as it was specifically reserved for Allison) and was perched on a stool beside my table, absentmindedly plaiting little sections of my hair.

I had all but passed out on another desk and was lying flat across the top of it on my back, staring up at the ceiling, with my legs bent and my feet perched on the end. Stiles floated somewhere between the two factions, looking increasingly concerned with Jackson's "I can't believe Scott has abandoned us" propaganda but also keeping a worried eye on me. I had firmly been instructed not to go to sleep despite my many protests that magic exhaustion wasn't the same thing as a concussion, which meant that if I so much as blinked for too long, Stiles would clap loudly in my ear.

He was a bastard, but it was certainly effective.

"Jackson," Lydia said suddenly, breaking the heavy silence in the lab. Her voice, laden with concern, woke me up from the covert nodding off I was doing. Her hands stilled in my hair.

"You handed me the sulphuric acid, right? It has to be sulphuric acid, or it won't ignite."

"I gave you exactly what you asked for, didn't I?" Jackson snarled, his defensive venom making Lydia jolt a little, despite being nowhere near him.

I bit back an insult as Lydia answered. "Yeah," she said meekly. "Yeah, I'm sure you did."

I turned my head slightly and Stiles caught my eye, looking very uneasy indeed.

Something between a howl and a growl ripped through the school, sending shockwaves over our little group. Lydia almost tumbled off her stool in shock and Allison's head snapped up fearfully. Jackson and I had the most extreme reactions however, as pain rocketed through my body.

I knew it was the magic, the ancient warning system that my ancestors had left me with to let me know when other supernatural creatures were close by. The Alpha's sheer power tore through me like a bullet, taking the soft humming in my stomach to dizzying heights of pain. It was a cruel reminder that he was not to be fucked with.

I curled my body defensively into the foetal position, gripping my stomach with all my might, as if it might contain the sudden agony. Jackson and I cried out at the same time, and it was enough to avert my attention from myself just in time to watch him fall to his knees.

I slipped off the table and gripped Stiles' arm, who had rushed to help me off. Bent at the waist, my ears ringing and discomfort ricocheting through me, I staggered over to Jackson. I collapsed to my knees beside him and focussed on taking deep, laboured breaths as Jackson clutched the back of his neck and moaned.

I caught sight of the scratches adorning his nape, like sinister jewellery, at the same time as Stiles and we traded wide eyed glances. My brain went a mile minute, whirring through every single possibility as to what caused those scratches, that didn't end with Jackson being a werewolf. I hadn't felt his energy- I didn't understand.

Just as I was starting to panic that he would turn right here in the lab, the growl quietened and then faded all together. The pain abated and I couldn't help but groan in relief.

Stiles hauled me up whilst the girls pulled Jackson to his feet. We were both sweating profusely and breathing heavily. I leaned against Stiles slightly for support and Jackson wrenched himself free of the helping hands.

"Are you okay?" Lydia asked worriedly, her brow furrowed.

"I'm fine- I'm fine!" Jackson said adamantly, his hand never leaving the back of his neck.

"That didn't sound fine," Stiles commented. "What's on the back of your neck?"

Jackson ripped himself away from Stiles' extended hand and shot him the middle finger.

"It's been there for days!" Lydia said suddenly, as if she had been holding in an important secret. "He won't tell me what it is."

"As if you care!" Jackson retorted nastily, his face contorting with rage.

Lydia and Jackson continued to argue heatedly, whilst Allison pulled her hands through her hair.

"Where's Scott?" she was saying. "He should be back by now."

Just as she said his name, I felt him, deep in my bones. Scott was close by, but the feeling was different. Less humming and more like frenzied birds, trapped in a cage. He didn't feel right.

"Stiles," I muttered, clutching his arm. "Something's wrong. Something's wrong with Scott."

"What? What's wrong?" he asked urgently.

I shook my head. "I don't know," I said, my voice quivering. "I can… feel it."

Allison's head snapped to the door. "Did you hear that?" she cried, her voice shrill. "SCOTT?" She threw herself at the door just as there was a distinct click from the other side and a shadow crossed in front of the small window.

"SCOTT!" she shouted, pulling on the door handle with all her might. "Scott! Come back!"

"Did he just leave?" Lydia spluttered, her mouth agape.

"Allison! Enough!" I shouted, trying to grab her shoulders as she began to hammer on the door.

"Scott! Scott!" she repeated desperately over and over again, her fear agonising.

"Wait!" Lydia called, now on the far side of the room, by the windows. I had my hands around Allison's wrists, and I was battling to stop her, worried she would give us away or make her knuckles bloody.

"Do you guys hear that?"

Allison fell still and I exhaled evenly, still gripping her tightly. My breath came out in ragged gasps as we all stood and listened for a second, waiting to hear what Lydia was talking about.

Sirens.

We could hear sirens.