Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf

Two-Pack III

The Beacon Hills Sheriff Department had undergone numerous staffing changes recently, as was made clear by the new faces that populated the station. Following the massacre caused by the Oni, Stilinski had had to recruit an old friend, Elba out of retirement in order to shore up the numbers, and had a bunch of shiny new recruits. They had all been rotated out, going on to new stations, leaving the sheriff and Parrish as his primary deputy, and Elba had once more gone back into retirement, sick of the supernatural flavour of the town.

Haigh had been another deputy in the town, and had requested a move to Santa Monica following the collapse of the case against Derek Hale, who Haigh had blamed for the death of his younger sister in the Hale house fire years before. However, most bizarrely, Haigh had never arrived in Santa Monica, and despite exhaustive attempts to find him, the former deputy had just vanished and nobody had a clue what had happened to him. His disappearance was just one of many that had plagued the town recently.

Deputy Levi Strauss was a newcomer to the station. Young, handsome and blond, he had made a better impression than his predecessor, Sandy Sands, and wasn't nearly as much of a bootlicker. He and Parrish had formed a good friendship since he had started, and Strauss had been working tirelessly to help with the disappearances.

However nobody was working harder than Valerie Clark, the other new deputy. A petite, hard working brunette, she had joined the force, and then within a week, her younger sister, for whom she was the primary caregiver, had gone missing.

Clark sighed wearily as she looked at the crime board, kneading her temples tiredly. Ten disappearances had rocked Beacon Hills in recent weeks, and nobody knew a damn thing about them, it was like all the victims had just upped and vanished. Haigh. Brandon Miers. Corey Bryant. Brett Talbot. Donovan Donati. Josh Diaz. Angela Dortmund. Zach Farthing. Beth Waters. And of course, Clark's own sister, Hayden.

"Val, you need to rest. You're burning the candle at both ends, and you're going to burn yourself out." Parrish chided, and she groaned in frustration.

"Kyle, my sister is missing! So are all these others, including one of our own, we need to find them!" she hissed through gritted teeth, and the most senior deputy laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Clark mused that if she wasn't desperate to find Hayden, she might actually enjoy the contact.

"I know Val. But you need to rest, when was the last time you slept?" he asked her in concern, and she looked desperately into the kind eyes of the other deputy, and she sighed, admitting defeat.

"Probably haven't slept properly in over a month, since Hayden disappeared." She admitted, and Parrish looked at the board pointedly.

"And how long have you spent looking at this board, working overtime?" he asked innocently, but she knew where he was going with this, and begrudgingly, she admitted it.

"Probably over a month." She sighed, and he took her shoulder tenderly, his face crinkled with concern.

"Val, I get it, you're desperate to find Hayden, hell, we're desperate to find any of them. But burning yourself out isn't going to help much. Go home, and if you don't, I'll get the sheriff to make it an order." He told her with a slight smile, and she looked at him, looking completely lost.

"I just…she's the only family I have left, I'm responsible for her, when our parents died, and now…" she protested, struggling to get the words out, and Parrish took her gently by the shoulders and wrapped her in a hug.

"We'll find them. We will." He vowed, and she nodded weakly, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand, and scurried away, making good her escape, while Parrish watched her go, feeling awful.

He didn't doubt that they would find the missing people. What he very much doubted was whether they would still be alive by the time that they did.

"How was patrol?" the sheriff asked tiredly as he came into the building, and Parrish shrugged.

"Alright, no sign of anything supernatural so far as we could see, but the patrol route Scott gave us is a hell of an ask when there's only two of you." Parrish replied as he followed his superior through into his office, and Stilinski indicated for him to take a seat, which he did.

"I know, but in his defence, he usually has at least a third of the pack patrolling at any one time, and has Malia's nose on top of it. How's Clarke holding up, she didn't look so good, I saw her when I came in." he said with concern, and Parrish pursed his lips.

"Not great, but I guess you had already figured that. We need a break in these weirdo disappearances, we need to find something, anything that gives us a clue." He complained, and Stilinski nodded darkly, the whole thing was weird, and very creepy.

Ten healthy people, most of them teenagers, didn't just up and disappear of the face of the earth. There had been something like this nearly twenty years ago, but he'd looked at the files and nothing seemed to leap out of him that could possibly help them. And, knowing of the chessboard as he did, he also had to factor in whether these disappearances were normal, or supernatural, a thought that didn't exactly fill him with joy.

"And we've had no break of that sort at all, the most recent thing we concluded is that other than Corey Bryant, the first two to go missing were Brandon Miers and Haigh of course, and the fact that we found Haigh's car makes me think…" the sheriff began, and Parrish sighed tiredly.

"That whoever took him was someone different to whoever took everyone else." He agreed, he'd had the same thought.

Stilinski suppressed a groan. Ten disappearances, all of them kids and the one who wasn't was a cop himself, if they didn't get a break soon the case would likely be reassigned, which would also likely bring McCall back to town which was the last thing they needed, him and Melissa in particular, as he knew that if Rafe returned to town, the fact that the two of them were dating would come out, and that wouldn't be good, there would be a lot of accusations thrown about over that one…again.

"We also never actually figured out who framed Derek for the Calavera murders, since if it was Agravaine the evil bastard would have let us know it." Parrish added, and the sheriff shot him a dirty look.

"Parrish, why are you going around depressing people, why don't you go home and depress someone near and dear to you?" he asked, nettled, and Parrish smirked a little.

"Sure thing boss. By the way, Kira's dad called asking if we knew a good therapist, any idea what that's about?" he asked, and the sheriff chuckled.

"That was to do with Malia. Mr Yukimura, rather bravely, volunteered to take Malia on a driver's ed lesson. As you can imagine, as driving isn't her strong suit," he lamented diplomatically, and Parrish laughed, Malia's horrible driving was a recurring joke, "He's having nightmares about what she did to the various mannequins that represented pedestrians during the lesson, doesn't help that that maniac Finstock rather cleverly simulated the sounds of them dying to add to his trauma while Malia crushed them under the wheels of the car." He explained with a slight sigh, and Parrish laughed while the sheriff chuckled.

"Don't see why he came to us though, other than the fact that Morrell hasn't been seen since we saw off the dogs. Braeden wants it kept quiet though." Parrish explained, and the sheriff nodded, by kept quiet, she meant kept from Stiles.

"Knowing our luck, she's also gone missing. Alright, we can't do much more good tonight anyway, head home, we'll come back and look at it fresh in the morning, maybe take another punt with the kids too." He said, and Parrish nodded, looking worried as he did so.

Stilinski flopped tiredly down into his chair, he had hoped to get some time to himself following Agravaine' defeat. Generally things had been quiet, but the pressure was starting to mount now, especially with so many kids missing, and they were still no closer to figuring any of it out, it was all just so maddening. He was beginning to become more and more convinced that these disappearances were supernatural in nature, but until whoever, or whatever, was behind it, made their move, they were kind of pissing into the wind.

Become the sheriff, they had said. You'll be good at it, they said. Beacon Hills is fairly quiet they told him.

He snorted derisively as he started to get his end of day paperwork in order. Feeling he should sue somebody for false advertising, he got to work, with the pictures of every missing person staring at him from the crime board outside his office.

XX

Lightning seemed to congregate above the Beacon Hills Preserve nowadays, as jagged forks of electricity flashed in the air, illuminating the rock formation that edged the border of the preserve, bordered by the river running through the entire area. A good distance away from the rocky mound that acted essentially as a promontory, were numerous metal fences, marked with various signs advising 'DANGER', 'CLOSED DUE TO RISK OF SUBSIDENCE', blocking off a sizeable chunk of the preserve, and due to how deep into the preserve it was, it usually tended not to bother anyone as very few people, if anyone, came this far in.

Which was what made the area perfect for the Dread Doctors.

Hidden within the area that was fenced off, there were six lookout posts, forming a sort of oval formation, starting from the promontory, and angling towards what appeared to be a cave that had been caused by the subsidence. However, that was the way it was constructed, to give the illusion that it was natural, when in reality it was anything but. At the bottom of the cave were two massive metre thick metal doors, which opened onto a rocky outcropping inside the cave. The outcropping arrowed into a long, thin bridge, over a chasm of jagged, murderous looking rocks. The other side was the start of what should have been a massive cave system, however, it was actually anything but. The outcropping had been levelled off, and it was now filled with over a dozen vehicles including motorbikes, cars, a couple of jeeps that were outfitted with machine guns, and even two armoured cars. A guard station was at the end of the bridge, manned by two men dressed in camouflage combat gear, their black visors emblazoned with an image of a snake eating its own tail. Guards were also patrolling the garage, and guarding the massive, foot thick chunks of metal that marked the entrance into the base.

This was the lair of the Dread Doctors. The door opened onto a walkway that formed a large expanse in the underground warren, the length of a football field, the entire facility a bright, sterile white. The rail-like entrance walkway surrounded the entire bottom floors, overlooking them, allowing the soldiers to patrol and keep an eye on their captives on the level below them, their visors allowing them to adjust to the sharp glare brought about by light bouncing off all the white surfaces. Several doors were dotted along the raised walkways, leading to the barracks, food halls, medical station (the genuine one) and storerooms, the soldiers patrolling the entire area, alert for any sign of trouble. Two lifts were at each end of the walkway, connecting to the other floors.

The highest floor, the floor above the command walkway, was the level containing the control centre. The control centre was one of the largest rooms in the base, the nerve centre that controlled all of the Directive's operations. Massive computer banks, data banks, communication devices and other things were crammed into the command centre, with various soldiers watching all the readouts, alert for any signal from any of their operatives. As opposed to the base itself, the command centre was quite a dark room, with numerous computer banks and information terminals flashing a kaleidoscope of colours as each operation was closely monitored by the operatives of the Directive. Outside the command centre were six guard stations, each of them linked to the lookout posts outside, and the reason for this was twofold as it provided them with an easy way to the lookout posts without going outside, and also happened to have been designed to flank the three largest living quarters in the base, one for each of the Dread Doctors. The fourth set of quarters had been converted into another medical room, and it was that one which was used by the Dread Doctors when they were all performing the same, insidious experiments, and all doing what they could to contribute to the highly secret Project Typhon. At the end of the walkway was a large motif, detailing one of the greatest successes of the Dread Doctors, a monstrous, murderous creature that had been defeated through sheer dumb luck a generation before. The motif was decorated onto the wall of the vast library/trophy room, where the Dread Doctors studied their illicit craft, and also marked where their greatest victories in their research had come about. Within the library, stuffed with numerous medical books and brochures, DNA traces, journals, and vivid diagrams and pictures of their experiments was another small room, that looked like little more than a closet, yet for some strange reason it was guarded by four soldiers, all of them armed to the teeth, completely unaware of the marvellous potential that was held just inches behind them in that closet.

The bottom floor was a multitude of offices, closets, storerooms and such like, barely visible from the guard level. However, most insidious of all was the large morgue, into which a body covered with a sheet was being wheeled into. There were numerous other smaller quarters here, for the other scientists who were not one of the vaunted three. Creeping passages led away from this floor, leading towards the edge of the base that opened into the cliff face, along with small cooling tunnels that helped vent pure air throughout the base. But to the average person, the real question was what was behind the elevator shaft at the end of the bottom floor. Six troops were guarding it, and usually one of the four pets of the leadership could be found skulking around here, but nobody knew what this elevator led to, or why it required such stringent security, however, the only people who went down on that elevator to whatever was below were the Dread Doctors themselves, and even then it was rarely the Surgeon or the Pathologist, whatever was deep at the bottom of the base was usually only the purview of the Geneticist.

However, it was the third floor, beneath the walkway level, that was the busiest. Forty-eight plastic cells had been erected on this floor, each of the cell completely see through, affording their unfortunate inhabitants no privacy at all. The cells themselves contained a sleeping mat, a latrine and little else, and in most cases, the inhabitants of the cells were forced to share with as many as five other people, sometimes a little more. There was a slot in each door, to allow the limited amount of food they got each day to be slid through. Little airholes dotted each cell, allowing a little bit more air into each one, but not enough to improve the squalid living conditions the inhabitants had to endure. Guards patrolled up and down the walkways that separated each section of twelve cells into four separate groups, taunting the prisoners and abusing them as they walked past, harassing the already beaten, bloody and broken prisoners in their care.

Numerous operating theatres branched out from this floor, many with transparent glass across the whole thing to allow the prisoners to see what was befalling their brethren as the Dread Doctors experimented on then, ripped them apart, after which if you were lucky, the doctors would leave you be, but some they did put back together just to rip apart all over again. This was the only floor in the entire base that didn't remain entirely sterile, as blood splatters, the last legacies of the Dread Doctors former victims sprayed up the walls and up the grimy windows. Bloodied manacles, handcuffs, ropes and whips were hanging around the operating theatres, and medical stations with harvested 'bits' of former victims, filled out the floor. This was the heart of the Dread Doctors operation, the ghoulish nerve centre of their entire operation, where they worked towards their ultimate goal, and furthered their research onto the long-awaited completion of Project Typhon.

In one of the cells, a woman sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes shut as she tried to stave off the chaos within her mind. She was a beautiful woman, though also gave the impression that she had had a hard life quite recently, and was suffering for it as a result. Her long and formerly luxurious black hair was now ragged and unkempt, and also had the indignity of being uneven in places due to one too many encounters with one of the Dread Doctors, usually the Pathologist. The crimson streaks she had in her hair had faded in their vibrance, and she winced with every movement, Colonel Sinner had taken rather a dim view when she had tried to escape the other day and had beaten her severely. Her formidable form had atrophied since her capture, hard not to with the gruel they gave them, just enough to make sure that the subjects didn't die of starvation. An agonised scream pierced the air making the woman flinch, and her vivid green, cat like eyes snapped open, and Martagh tried to use what little of her Scuffock power that she had available to try and decipher what the hell was going on in the operating theatre opposite.

What the hell had the Dread Doctors done to her powers? It was something they had done, as you didn't take the risk of imprisoning so many supernatural creatures without some sort of added security, some ace in the hole to make sure the supernatural creatures that were being imprisoned didn't rebel and rip one's throat out.

Martagh had been here for weeks, she hadn't long left the pack and had nipped to collect her things when upon arrival at where she had been staying, she had been nicked by something. Before she knew it, she had collapsed to the ground, her whole body paralysed as a menacing kanima hissed at her, only to be followed up by a group of soldiers, who had proceeded to capture her, taking all of her effects, and had thrown her highly drugged up form into this plastic box, and ever since she had been the guest of the Directive, and a frequent playmate of the Pathologist, who, in Martagh's own humble opinion, was quite frankly, a fucking nutcase.

However she did still have some meagrely helpful abilities (none of which were much use at getting her out of her current predicament, nor any of her fellow prisoners but she had occupied herself using her augmented sight to try to decipher some way out of this mess), and as such she tapped into her sight ability to try and peer through one of the air holes and look into the operating theatre across from her to try and find out who the newest victim was.

Martagh groaned inwardly as she looked across to the operating theatre.

Zach was the unwilling guest this time, and the doctor in attendance was the Geneticist, who from what Martagh had seen, was the worst of the three of them. The young boy seemed to have been a guest of the doctors from just after Martagh had been, however the Scuffock had been rather preoccupied herself with being tortured and experimented upon by the Pathologist at the time, and didn't know much about the boy, his cell was too far away from hers to easily communicate with him. However, she didn't need to be a genius to see that Zach wasn't going to survive many more sessions with the Dread Doctors. The boy had been terrified before now, but the screeching that would rival even Lydia's when he had been yanked towards the operating theatre, and it was clear that he feared the Geneticist most of all.

Zach was clad only in boxers, his body hooked up to various wires and machines. However, it was the fact that the Geneticist was the doctor in attendance which was the real issue.

The Geneticist was the only woman of the three Dread Doctors, and didn't seem to be as hale and healthy as her companions. Walking with a slight stoop, and she also used a cane made of furnished bone and metal. Like her companions, she too was dressed in a steampunk boiler suit, though more modern that that of the Surgeon or the Pathologist. It was sleek and black, and she wore a black leather lab coat and a half skirt around her waist, which accented her metallic looking fishnet stockings. Her face was covered in a mask like the others, and hers was also attached to a respirator, and she had numerous black panes of glass crafted into her helmet. And she currently had a long needle in her hand which she seemed to be bringing ever closer to a shuddering and panicking Zach.

Martagh didn't need to be able to hear what was going on, despite the fact that the boy was strapped down to the operating table, with belts at his wrists, ankles and across his forehead, he was terrified, struggling to get away from her even though it was quite impossible. The Geneticist backhanded Zach, who was shivering in terror as she brought the needle closer towards him. As his head snapped to the side, the Geneticist seemed to realise Martagh was watching her. The Scuffock's breath froze in her throat, her heart hammering like mad as she realised she had been spotted. The Geneticist slowly raised their head, and Martagh suddenly developed the very unsettling notion that the Geneticist was smiling under her mask, a fact reinforced when the Geneticist offered a cheerful wave…right before she plunged the long needle right into Zach's head, forcing it all the way through. Zach's face constricted in pain, his eyes crossing before his whole body started to convulse, with foamy liquid frothing in his mouth, running from his eyes like tears, running from his nose…before his entire body went still, his eyes vacant, the poor boy very clearly dead.

Martagh felt her stomach drop, and she was quite grateful that the gruel they were getting fed didn't regurgitate, it was bad enough going down the first time. Zach's eyes were open in terror yet vacant, tear tracks of silver mercury coming from them, same with his nose, and foaming mercury had bubbled from his mouth and had dribbled down his chin. Martagh held onto her extended sight for a few seconds more, in which she watched the Geneticist casually remove her gloves, before beckoning in two orderlies dressed in green scrubs marked with a black serpent eating itself before she swept from the room, and waved at Martagh as she departed, and it was clear from the way that she was shaking that she was laughing while the orderlies carted the body away.

"She killed him didn't she?" a voice asked, and Martagh turned to the small air holes between her cube and the next, and nodded grimly as she looked at her neighbour.

"Yes, she did. Seemed to rather enjoy it too." Martagh commented in distaste, and her neighbour growled, her eyes flashing blue as she did so, and turning back to her young charge.

"Sadistic bitch." Bonnie spat, as she knelt down beside Rhyley, who was still quivering on the solitary bed their shared cell possessed.

The dogs had also been captured after the defeat of the Ghost Pack, indeed, Bonnie and Rhyley had been trying to leave town when that horrible flying thing had cornered them, and forced them into a trap, courtesy of the big hulking brute with the glowing claws on one hand. Ever since then, they too had been guests of the Dread Doctors, and Rhyley had only barely survived his last encounter with the Surgeon who had left him close to death. Indeed, the poor young weredog, who had been a gytrash before the defeat of Agravaine and the end of the curse, had been locked in the depths of a horrific fever for the last while (they had no way of measuring how time passed here) and Martagh and her neighbour both feared that if they didn't do something to break his fever soon, Rhyley wouldn't last much longer. It wasn't as though the Dread Doctors cared about the upkeep of their prisoners after all. Hell, their prisoners were all clad basically in their underwear, the ladies being afforded two items to cover their heres and their everywhere, and boys just to cover their everywheres.

"S-Stiles…" Rhyley moaned, sounding pained and delirious as Bonnie used some of their limited water supply to dab at his warm forehead.

"Shh." Bonnie soothed, her face crinkled with worry as she tried to save the closest thing to family she had left.

Martagh pondered his words as she looked through the glass into the next cell, watching Bonnie tend to Rhyley. Yes, Stiles would be a welcome sight right now, well, provided he was on the other side of the glass. Better yet with Scott, Isaac, Derek, and of course Lydia, together they could all take care of business, and deal with these so-called Dread Doctors. And why did Martagh have a horrible feeling that whoever these villains were, they would eventually suck the Beacon Hills pack into their maniacal plans?

And then, on top of these Dread Doctors, and the threat to Lydia and her friends and of course the True Alpha…there was the boy, in the middle cell in the next row, who had just been returned by soldiers who had thrown him roughly into the cell where he was now being tended to by his chameleon friend. This boy was special to the Dread Doctors somehow, to the Surgeon in particular, and she had a horrible feeling that whatever the reason was, it was more insidious than she wanted to imagine.

She was jarred from her thoughts as the door to her cell slid open, and she span to find the soulless faces of the soldiers looking at her, weapons raised.

"The Surgeon would like to see you now." One hissed in malicious pleasure, and before Martagh could consider doing anything, the damn kanima slithered in, her claws flashing and slicing into Martagh's skin in an instant.

As the soldiers laughed and the kanima slithered away with a satisfied hiss, Martagh was torn: did she really want the pack to come and rescue them, and likely all get themselves killed, or did she want them to stay as far away from this as humanly possible, especially when they had so barely survived the fight with Agravaine?

However, all thoughts of this were driven out of her head as she was hauled into the operating theatre, and saw the Surgeon waiting for her, and she was soon much more preoccupied with his torturing her in order to focus on much else.

XX

"Mom, I'm home! Oh damn she's working tonight." Scott muttered to himself as he entered the house.

The house had come on leaps and bounds in the past months. It had been falling apart for months, problems with the wiring, the roof, basically the place had been a few steps ahead of being condemned. However, when Ifrit, the Djinn assigned to bring Rakaisha to justice, had caused a fire that had torn through the lower levels, the insurance money had more than paid to bring the house back up to scratch again. Now the house was doing rather well, the roof had been replaced, as had the wiring, the entire house had been decorated, the damp was gone, the cracks filled in, in short, the house was in a much better state than it had been in years. The living room had been nicely decorated, with two brand new two-person sofas and two armchairs, a nice fluffy new carpet, and due to the help of his two grandmothers, and his father along with a few photo editing acts of genius from Danny, the photos had all been replaced too. A new TV was set up, and the house still had the sort of new paint smell, as his rather contrite pack had helped make the house liveable again to help make up for their actions during the fight with Agravaine.

The kitchen had also been redecorated, and they had a modestly new cooker, microwave and other matching accessories. In short, the house looked pretty damn good considering a few months before it had been a few werewolf fights off of falling down.

Looking around the house that his pack had helped get back to fighting fitness, he smiled fondly before letting out a tired yawn. He had enjoyed the summit, it had been kind of fun, but hosting did take it out of you. And now, thanks to Stiles, he was now worried about Isaac. He scowled irritably as he headed up the stair. Isaac wouldn't cheat on him would he? True they both compared notes on girls and other guys, but it seemed perfectly obvious that both of them were very happy with each other. But what if Stiles was right, what if Isaac was looking for someone else? He was going to kill Stiles!

He wished his mother was in, then at least he would have someone to talk to, but she'd told him weeks ago she'd agreed to a nightshift tonight, so she wasn't in either. Scott shook his head, his problem was he missed Isaac, he was lonely, he had promised to give Isaac space so he, Camden and Rakaisha could bond as a family, he wasn't going to text him, even though it would be so nice to hear his voice, or to see him on Skype or something, or even just to get a picture of him, damn he really missed him, he thought sadly as he opened the door, and his brain sort of jammed.

Candles had been lit around his newly decorated room, casting the place in a warm, welcoming glow. The room even smelled good, it smelled of Isaac's aftershave, did that mean-?

"Hi!" a delighted yet cocky voice said from the door to the bathroom, and Scott felt his face break into a smile as he beheld his boyfriend, and throwing caution to the winds, he bounded over to Isaac, leaping towards him, Isaac catching him and twirling him a little as Scott hungrily pressed his lips against his, moaning a little in pleasure as they kissed, Isaac moaning hungrily as he did so.

"Isaac, you're here!" Scott exclaimed with delight as Isaac let him down, wrapping his boyfriend in a proper, tight and loving hug which Isaac eagerly returned.

"Did you miss me?" he asked playfully, nuzzling Scott a little, and Scott took Isaac's jaw in his hand and tilted his face slightly, so that Isaac's blue eyes were looking directly into his own, warm brown ones.

"What do you think, I missed you like crazy!" he told him, and kissed him again, damn, he had missed him, clearly other parts of his body had too actually.

"I missed you too." Isaac whispered softly, and Scott relished hearing the earnest love in his boyfriend's voice, and for the first time as he was finally able to start thinking with his head, and he surveyed his boyfriend.

Damn he looked good. Clad in a white tshirt with a long grey cardigan, he'd grown a little bit of honey blond stubble during his time away, his hair styled into a sort of spiky style. His blue eyes were running over Scott hungrily, and he was smiling happily.

"How come you're home so early, I thought you weren't home for another couple of days?" Scott asked, as Isaac took his hand and guided him to the bed.

"Well," Isaac admitted, grinning playfully, "when I told you originally what dates we were away, I mixed them up, we were always coming back today." He admitted, and a distant penny dropped in Scott's head.

"Wait, is that why mom's working tonight?" he asked, and Isaac grinned as they leaned back against the headboard, nuzzling his cheek affectionately.

"Yeah, when I told her I'd messed up the dates she figures I would be unceremoniously thrown out from the loft, so agreed to work a night shift so we could get…reacquainted." Isaac purred playfully in his ear, and a certain part of his anatomy was suddenly very interested in getting reacquainted.

"So…how was New York?" Scott asked with a smile, wrapping his arm around Isaac's waist and bringing his boyfriend closer to him, allowing Isaac to rest his head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly as he did so.

"It was great actually, really fun. We saw the Statue of Liberty, managed to temporarily lose Rakaisha at MOMA, don't worry, we found her eventually," he assured Scott, who sniggered, "went through Central Park, Washington Square Gardens, we went to the Intrepid Museum, that was really cool, and Camden officially proposed to Kaisha on top of the Empire State Building!" he told him excitedly, and Scott smiled.

In the short time he had known Camden and Rakaisha the two of them had clearly proven they were totally mad for each other, with Kaisha having helped Camden escape the Taliban and return home to America, and Camden helping Kaisha with the Djinn assassin who was sent after her for her rebellion against the Taliban. The two of them were deeply in love, and he was delighted that the two of them were now officially engaged.

"That's great. And have to say, the thought of you eventually being all dressed up in a tux is rather appealing." He whispered into Isaac's ear, and Isaac pulled away, beckoning around the room.

"So, what do you think?" he asked softly, and Scott smiled, turning and leaning his forehead against Isaac's.

"It's very romantic, and very highly appreciated. When did you do all this?" he asked huskily, and Isaac shrugged.

"When I got in about an hour ago, I figured the summit would be over, so just came straight here. How did it go?" he asked interestedly, and Scott grinned, seeming quite pleased with himself.

"I think it went pretty well actually, but I can tell you more about it tomorrow. So, you figured you'd just come here and set up a romantic night for us?" he asked, his hormones and the fact that he'd been missing his boyfriend since he'd been away now moving to the forefront of his brain, and Isaac grinned, lounging back on the bed.

"Yeah, I kind of hoped you'd missed me, and I already got rid of your mom, and well, Camden implied I should make myself scarce, you know, newly engaged and all that and hoped that my boyfriend would be…" Isaac teased, but Scott then took his chin and brought his lips towards his, and kissed him passionately.

"Your boyfriend has missed you like crazy, you've made the place very romantic," Scott moaned, hanging over his boyfriend, "And quite honestly, I'm…"

"As horny as I am?" Isaac taunted, nibbling his boyfriend's lip a little, and Scott nodded, succumbing.

"God, I missed you." He murmured, and kissed Isaac hungrily, who reciprocated, and he could feel Isaac getting hard beneath his jeans as well, when his boyfriend pulled away a little, holding a finger to his lips.

"Um, I did have an idea, when I went into a tourist shop and saw something…" Isaac mumbled, his face going red, and Scott pulled away, his eyebrow arced in amusement.

"Yeah, like what?" he asked, Isaac was a little nervous and was blushing like crazy, but Scott had always known that when Isaac got like this, he usually wound up really enjoying it.

Isaac then whispered what he had planned into Scott's ear, and Scott felt his cock twitch excitedly, and he let out a little moan at the thought.

He loved it when he and Isaac reversed roles and Isaac became the more dominant one. Obviously, he was usually the dominant one, and he loved it, and loved having his way with Isaac, making Isaac like putty in his hands but the occasional role reversal was rather nice, and this…could be fun.

Isaac slid off the bed, and went into his drawer that he kept some of his clothes in for the nights he spent here with Scott when he wasn't at the loft with Camden, and then to the drawer under it which Scott had allowed him to have to store his many scarves. He pulled two out after a second's consideration, then turned his lustful gaze back to Scott, who smirked playfully, his cock tight against his jeans as he did so.

"See, I saw some touristy scarves," he explained, blushing madly, "and thought I wouldn't wear them, but then I got to thinking I could think of another use for them…" he whispered hesitantly, and Scott shot him a cocky look.

"And that use involves me tied up?" he taunted, and Isaac shot him a smug look in return before he jumped onto the bed, hanging above him, and pressed his lift softly against Scott's, making Scott moan in pleasure.

"It involves you naked and tied up." He whispered seductively, and Scott let out a little whimper despite himself, and gladly obliged, stripping off his white tshirt and casting it aside, savouring the hungry look Isaac fixed his now shirtless body with.

"Well, I've done some of it." Scott teased, and Isaac groaned and kissed him hungrily, pressing his body against Scott's, Scott could feel his cock straining against his jeans, and he made an anxious little noise in his throat, running his hand up Isaac's abs, and Isaac reluctantly parted away from his lips and stripped off his own tshirt, and Scott let out a purr of contentment as he observed his half naked boyfriend.

"That's much better," Scott whispered huskily, as Isaac bent down and kissed him, his tongue eagerly exploring his mouth, and Isaac briefly stopped kissing him, smiling in a mischievous manner.

"Not yet it isn't." he breathed into his ear, and straddling Scott's legs, which were now struggling to escape their containment, he roughly seized Scott's right hand, and brought it up to the new headboard, which had small metal bars accenting the design, which Scott suspected weren't intended for the purpose he and his boyfriend were about to use them for. Isaac then took a deep green scarf, and snaked it around Scott's wrist, before pulling it tight, leaving Scott with absolutely no wiggle room in his right hand at all.

"Oh, we're doing this?" Scott purred, and Isaac roughly took his left hand in response, pulling it up to the new headboard, and this time tightly tied a red scarf around it, and Scott found to his delight that he was actually really enjoying this.

"Hell yeah." Isaac whispered in a predatory fashion in his ear, and Scott felt his whole body shudder in excitement as Isaac, still straddling him, kissed him fiercely, moaning in the back of his throat as he did so.

Isaac wrapped his hands around the back of the neck, and damn did Scott want to wrap his hands around Isaac, but obviously, in his current position, that was impossible. Well, he could rip them off with his werewolf strength, but well, he kind of liked this, and it would cast a pall on the evening.

Isaac ran his fingers through the back of Scott's hair, Scott groaning in pleasure as the two explored each other's mouths. Isaac's other hand gently snaked down Scott's irregular jaw, caressing his neck lightly, making Scott shudder in pleasure and excitement as he gently stroked his way down Scott's chest, stroking his nipples tantalisingly on the way past, and then stroked his way down to the waistband of Scott's jeans, Scott whining incessantly as he did so.

"Want them off?" Isaac whispered playfully, and despite being tied up, Scott forced his body up, kissing him hungrily, his warm brown eyes fixing Isaac's blue ones imploringly.

"Of course I fucking do, please Isaac!" he begged, and Isaac smiled happily, clearly enjoying the switch in their usual dynamic as it was usually him who begged, and grabbed Scott's jeans and slid them down.

Scott had thought that would help, turns out it didn't help all that much. While he now had a bit more space to manoeuvre, his cock was throbbing, god his black boxers were already shining with precum, he needed to deal with this, but Isaac was still wearing his trousers, and he had Scott like putty in his hands, damn the gorgeous, tall, blond, blue-eyed, tantalising, sexy bastard…

"Comfy?" Isaac challenged, raising an eyebrow as Scott growled a little in frustration, pulling at the scarves and finding to his slight annoyance that his boyfriend had tied them quite tightly, and so he couldn't take Isaac in his arms and well, you know.

"Isaac!" he begged, and Isaac grinned, and slid his own jeans off, Scott moaning in pleasure as his boyfriend exposed his dark blue boxers to his boyfriend, which were also suitably tented and also darkening in one certain area.

"So pushy." Isaac purred, kissing him hungrily, Scott reciprocating eagerly, moaning in the back of his throat, fuck he wanted to stroke every inch of Isaac's gorgeous, slim, pale body but as he strained against the scarves, Isaac let out a little playful warning growl and shoved Scott's wrists back into the headboard before reversing off Scott's body, and in one deft motion, whipped off Scott's underwear and cast them aside, leaving him naked on the bed.

Scott moaned in relief as his cock was finally freed, but it was still hard, damn, it could double as a rocket at the moment. Isaac traced a finger up the length of his shaft, Scott's eyes rolling in pleasure as he did so, before he cast aside his own underwear and Scott looked eagerly at Isaac's own long, hard cock, licking his lips, damn he needed this, fuck he'd missed him.

"I've missed you." Isaac whispered softly, and bent down, kissing Scott eagerly, Scott straining against the scarves as he did so, straining to have all of his boyfriend.

"I've missed you too. Come on Isaac, please." He whimpered, not remotely ashamed of it, and Isaac smiled a little and kissed his jaw before stroking his way back down to Scott's cock, savouring the fact that his boyfriend was twitching in pleasure, in need.

"Ok." Isaac whispered huskily, and leaned up, pressing his lips hungrily against Scott's, Scott moaning in pleasure while he did so, his tongue forcing its way into Isaac's mouth.

Isaac moaned in the back of his throat, kissing his boyfriend fiercely, both boys driven by how much they had missed one another since Isaac had left for New York. Scott broke off, kissing Isaac's jaw and neck hungrily, Isaac purring in pleasure as he did so, one hand pinning one of Scott's hands to the headboard while the other snaked down, tracing over Scott's abs towards his now throbbing cock. Scott was panting heavily, god he had needed this, he needed this, he needed Isaac, no more tantalising, the gorgeous bastard was an expert at torturing him…

Scott let out a little shuddering breath as Isaac gently started to jerk him off, tilting his head back, his eyes rolling in pleasure, it felt good to have something happen down there, he needed the release, he needed Isaac, he needed his Isaac. Isaac ran his other hand down, gently caressing his cheek, his neck, his chest before he hesitantly nuzzled Scott, his Alpha moaning in exultation, and realising what Isaac was asking for, he nodded, yes, god yes!

Straining against the scarves, Scott let out a little moan of exultation as his cock slid into Isaac, Isaac moaning in pleasure as he did so. Panting a little heavily now himself, Isaac then tilted his head back as Scott took back some tiny measure of control, his hands may be bound but he could still thrust. Isaac whimpered a little in ecstasy as he started to gyrate along with Scott, feeling his boyfriend inside him with a succulent, shuddering breath as Scott grinned cockily and started to thrust more, Isaac moaning in pleasure as he did so.

Isaac couldn't stand it anymore, he needed Scott, he needed every bit of him, his gorgeous, adorable, sweet Alpha that he had fallen so in love with, and had missed like crazy since he had left for New York, it was no fun being in the big city without Scott, it was no fun being anywhere without Scott, without his Scott, this guy he had fallen so in love with. Isaac pressed his lips to Scott's, feeling Scott inside him, and then Scott's exotic, tasty aroma filled Isaac's mouth as he hungrily tasted his boyfriend. Moaning in pleasure, the two kissed, Scott was straining against the scarves, he wanted to touch every inch of Isaac's body, run his hands through his hair, take him in his arms, but he couldn't, he was still bound fast, so instead he contented himself thrusting harder into Isaac, smiling a little as they kissed, Isaac's moans of pleasure like music to his ears.

"Please don't ever leave me again." Scott panted as they broke for air for a second, and Isaac looked at him, love and tenderness kindling in his eyes, and he nuzzled his boyfriend, kissing up Scott's jaw as he did it.

"Promise." He whispered softly, and Scott kissed him again, as Isaac stroked one hand up to his hair, holding onto it while the other hand, he slid down to his own cock as Scott grinned in victory, Isaac may be the dominant one tonight, but he was still the one calling the shots.

Scott was panting himself, thrusting more and more into Isaac as he did so, god he was so close, pent up sexual frustration, genuine love and lust, and the keen sense of how much he'd missed his boyfriend spurring him on. Scott was desperate, he needed to cum, he needed to remind Isaac that he, that he…

"Scott!" Isaac begged, and Scott smiled, as he continued to thrust, god he was so close…

"I thought you were in charge?" he teased, slowing down a little, and Isaac, panting, smirked at him cockily and gently tilted Scott's head back and he bent down, kissing his cheek, and working his way up to his ear.

"I never once said I…oh wow," he muttered as Scott accelerated again, "that I was in charge." He whispered, and Scott kissed him hungrily, both of them writhing in unison with one another, Scott's tasting Isaac's sweet taste, and Isaac stroked his hand gently down Scott's chest, caressing every inch of Scott's body he could reach before he fumbled urgently for his own cock which Scott noted with pleasure was about ready to blow, and as a result, he doubled his efforts, wrapping his legs which were the only limbs he could move, around Isaac's back, essentially pinning his Prime Beta as he thrust into him, going faster, getting closer, Isaac broke asway and tilted his head back in ecstasy, jerking himself off as Scott got ever closer, he was nearly there…

Isaac then gasped in pleasure, as Scott finally came into him, his eyes glowing a brilliant shade of gold that matched the candlelight, moaning in ecstasy as Scott filled him, and Scott, his own eyes glowing Alpha red, watched as Isaac also exploded, soaking Scott's sweat-glistened chest with his cum, staring at every bit of his boyfriend that was all his.

Both panting, Isaac bent down and pressed his lips eagerly to Scott's, who so wanted to do other things, but he was still tied, but Isaac took his face in both hands and kissed him as though they'd been away from each other for years, the electric current passing through them, and as they kissed the room felt like it faded away, like it was just them, existing in their own universe.

Very reluctantly, they broke away from each other, and Isaac hesitantly slid himself off Scott's still very rigid cock before crashing down onto the bed beside Scott, who whined a little as he was still bound. Isaac kissed his lips softly, their lips brushing tantalisingly, and Isaac traced his fingers up Scott's glimmering chest, stroking his jaw and lips with his fingers, Scott licking eagerly, and he moaned in pleasure as Isaac finally undid the scarves, casting them aside (a mark of how much he loved Scott really, treating his scarves with such indifference) and Scott felt feeling rush back into his fingers, which he capitalised on by wrapping his hands around the back of Isaac's neck and pulling him close, kissing his boyfriend hungrily. Their world swam in and out of their awareness as they did so, and regretfully, finally, they pulled apart, and Scott slouched out of bed to get them both cleaned up.

Not long later, Scott was lying on his back, one arm behind his head and the other wrapped around Isaac's naked body, pressed up against him, Isaac's head lying in the crook of Scott's arm as he usually did, snuggled into his boyfriend happily, one arm tucked under Scott and wrapped round his boyfriend's waist while the other was lying on his chest, absently stroking his boyfriend's well-developed muscles.

"I think it's safe to say, we missed each other." Scott ventured croakily, clearing his throat to get his voice to work properly again, and Isaac moaned in agreement as he did so.

"Um, yeah. Fuck I missed you." He mumbled softly, and Scott pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"I missed you too. I won't leave you again, I promise…actually, I was thinking, maybe next time, it should just be you and me going away together." He purred, and Scott's mind flashed to the thought of them at a beach somewhere, sun, fun, and of course, well, sex obviously.

"That sounds amazing." He purred, and Isaac smiled as he snuggled a little closer to Scott like he always did.

"I think so too. So was that, you know…" he asked shyly, and Scott breathed out in disbelief.

"That was unbelievably hot…maybe next time, I should commandeer your scarves for the same purpose?" he whispered, and yeah, the thought of Isaac tied to the bed like he had been, wow, there was that Alpha werewolf stamina right there, and Isaac smirked a little, stroking down to where Scott's anatomy was clearly being dictated to by his imagination running away with him.

"Whoa, again?" Isaac teased, and Scott moved his hand up to tilt Isaac's face up, his eyes kindling mischievously.

"Hey, I'm game if you are. Especially now I know you only have eyes for me." He told him, and Isaac fixed him with a confused look.

"Huh?" he asked, and Scott shook his head, already content in the knowledge that Stiles was totally wrong and that Isaac was, and only ever really had been, his.

"Just Stiles being a dick, don't worry." He assured him, and Isaac grinned, a naughty glint in his eye.

"Let me guess, he got you all worried I'd find someone else in New York…oh he's going to regret that tomorrow." He promised in a silky voice, and whoa, even hot and threatening Isaac was turning him on tonight, god he was horny.

"You know, dark you is also kind of sexy." Scott wheedled, and had to admit, the effect was rather ruined by the blush that suddenly developed on his boyfriend's cheeks, but Scott still found it hot.

"Thanks. Hey, speaking of dark versions of us, any hints as to what your costume is for Cam's party?" he needled, and clearly intended to torture the information out of his boyfriend, as his hand had snaked down and was softly caressing Scott's hardening cock, and Scott moaned in pleasure, but held firm.

"Huh nice try, you…tempter…" he mumbled, god it was hard to concentrate, and Isaac knew he had him right where he wanted him.

"Just a little hint?" Isaac whined in his ear, but it was clear that Scott wasn't the only one who was keen to go again, as something was digging into Scott's hip and getting harder by the second.

"No chance lover boy," Scott whispered huskily into Isaac's ear, and kissed down his neck, Isaac moaning in pleasure as he did so, "now, we've got loads to talk about but I think I should take the Alpha decision to leave that till tomorrow…while…I spend tonight…" he said in a voice little more than a husky whisper into Isaac's ear, Isaac moaning eagerly in response, "showing my gorgeous boyfriend how much I missed him." He finished, and picked up the two carelessly thrown aside scarves, and Isaac smiled impishly, kissing Scott passionately, before Scott jolted up, using his momentum to force Isaac onto his back, and upon receiving a nod from Isaac, total love and trust smouldering in his eyes, raised his hands to the headboard, and Scott, eyeing his boyfriend's rock-hard cock, so like his own, grinned and began to repay the favour, and very soon, the house was shaking for a second, and then a third time in the same night before both werewolves passed out, thoroughly spent, Isaac snuggled into his boyfriend happily, wrapped in Scott's arms, as Scott held him close, both boys sound asleep, totally spent from their reunion.

XX

Scott woke a few hours later, smiling contentedly. Isaac was cuddled into him as he always was, his head resting just under Scott's shoulder in the crook of his arm, sound asleep, his arm wrapped around Scott's chest. Scott's own arm was snaked around his boyfriend's waist, and the other was still on top of Isaac's one, they had fallen asleep holding hands after all. He smiled, his boyfriend was nice and warm for a change, the two of them snuggled in the covers, and Scott nuzzled Isaac lovingly, more than happy to go back to sleep.

After all, it was still dark outside, there was no sound in the house meaning his mother was still at work, which meant they had hours yet before they had to get up…and as it was still the Easter holidays there was no call for them to get up right away, in fact, they could maybe have one or more repeat performances when they woke up, especially now Isaac had had some sleep and hadn't been travelling all day, and after all, he was sound asleep, nuzzled contentedly in his boyfriend's arms. But yet, why had Scott woken up?

He didn't need the toilet, and even if he did, he was so comfortable with Isaac back and wrapped around him he would be extremely begrudging of having to get up if that was the case. No, it wasn't that, in fact, when he distracted himself from his gorgeous boyfriend lying beside him, he realised he actually felt…uneasy.

His eyes shone red, examining the room, yet could find nothing out of place, and his hearing didn't pick up on anything either, the house was quiet, the only sound he could hear coming from Isaac as he slept peacefully. The moon, it wasn't full moon for a while yet but it was still bright in the sky, something was getting closer, what had Lydia called it, Pyrenees Synergy or something? But that wasn't yet either, yet it was making the moon rather beautiful, in fact it was dappling the wall in light, highlighting the silhouette splayed against his wall, wasn't that nice?

Wait, a silhouette against the wall?

Starting, he looked at the wall, making sure he wasn't imagining it. No, there was a distinctly man shaped image on the wall, cast into relief by the moon shining in through the window. His heart started to beat a little faster, there was no way a silhouette could be coming in the window, not unless the person casting the shadow was standing on the tree outside his window, he had looked at that image all his life, and even when he was a child, he had never once even imagined a person standing on the tree outside, watching into his room. Yeah, he realised as the figure shifted ever so slightly, there was definitely something out there, staring into his bedroom window, and that was creepy enough, but when you accounted what the two of them had been doing, and the fact that they were both naked…

Shuddering a little, and realising his heart was still agitated, he quietly as possible slid his hand up to Isaac's mouth, covering it just as his boyfriend started to stir. Isaac woke groggily, reacting with momentary panic until he saw it was Scott covering his mouth, and Scott gently shook his head, then nodded over to the shadow on the wall. Isaac blinked to clear his head, and with Scott removing his hand from his mouth, Isaac turned his attention to the shadow on the wall, and his breath hitched a little in fright. Exchanging a look with Scott, the two of them working in complete synchronicity, both of them slid out of bed, onto the floor.

The advantage of Scott's room was that his bed was against the wall between his two windows, meaning whatever (they could rule out a whoever they reckoned, especially given both of their supernatural nature) it was, didn't have a direct line of sight to them, just into their room in general. And that, they hoped would give them the advantage. Scott slid along the floor, working his way to Isaac's side, as that would give them a better line of sight of their creepy voyeur. Isaac was already there, and had managed to get his hands on one of his knives (Scott briefly pondered, not for the first time, if Isaac had taken them to New York, and if so, where he had carried them) and had now worked his way to the other side of the window, which would give him the line of sight he needed when Scott did his part and wrenched open the window. Scott jumped up to his feet, and noted with some satisfaction that they had managed to get up to the window without altering their creepy peeping tom. He exchanged a look with Isaac, who readied his blade as Scott snaked his arm up the windowsill, the shadow still on the wall, and grasped the handle to open the window all the way. He held up three fingers, and Isaac nodded, readying his knife, and as Scott counted down, they both pounced.

Scott wrenched open the window, regretting it immediately as cold wintery weather that was still very unseasonal gushed in, but in a split second he had opened the window and leapt out of the way, a glint of silver flashing through the air as Isaac threw his knife at their creepy voyeur.

Briefly entangling themselves in the blind which had been buckled awkwardly when they had opened the window, they looked out together to see the creature that had been spying on them. The creature gave an ear-splitting screech, spittle flying from its mouth in rage as Isaac's knife nicked it in the leg, the knife embedding in the tree as it did so, and the boys beheld this new monstrosity.

It was slightly larger than a man and was wearing tattered blue jeans that tapered off around its knees. The creature was flesh coloured, but it didn't look like normal flesh. It had powerful, muscular legs which ended in tridactyl talon like feet, with three blood red talons coming from each foot, which were wrapped around the branch that had been giving it a direct line of sight into their bedroom. Its body was muscular though managed to look emaciated at the same time. There was an image emblazoned on its chest, but it was too dark to properly make it out. Membrane like skin stretched out from its body, segmented by ribbons of cartilage, and the skin was like wings, stretching to the end of its tridactyl arms which were also complete with three blood red talons which were emerging from long and dexterous fingers. It had a completely bald head, with large, tapered ears emerging from its skull. A double row of fangs filled its mouth, dripping with spittle and saliva, surrounding a forked tongue, and that horrific image only forced one to look higher, to where it seemed as though its two nostrils had been drilled into its mostly flat face. But most horrific of all was the fact that it only had one single eye taking up the centre of its head, a bright white orb in the dark, with a glowing circle of red around it.

The beast shrieked in challenge again, Scott forcing Isaac protectively behind him as it did so, but already wounded it opted not to attack and instead, flapped its wings and glided away into the night, shrieking into the cold spring air.

"Ok…what the hell was that?" Scott hissed, alert for any more sign of the creature but he could see it flying off with a slight list in its flight, which he looked upon with savage satisfaction, and he felt Isaac shiver, either from fright or cold, as he pressed against him.

"I don't know, but it was ugly by our standards, and extremely creepy even by our standards, I mean, that was several levels above Derek creepy. How long do you think it was standing there, watching us?" he asked nervously, not entirely thrilled with the idea of having been spied upon while the two of them had sex, but Scott shook his head as he fixed the blind, leaving the window wide open as he looked at the tree.

"Don't know, but the branch it was standing on doesn't look that cut up, so hopefully, not long, we're not doing pay per view porn here," he complained bitterly, "but really, can't we have one night to ourselves?" he asked in a petulant whine, and Isaac wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his chin on his shoulder.

"Well, it's half three, so technically, it's a new day," he pointed out fairly, and Scott rolled his eyes, though did smile a little.

"Yeah, a new day, a new problem. Damn it, I hate it when Lydia's right when she makes her creepy doom-laden prophecies about something coming. We should check the Bestiary in the morning." He told Isaac, who nodded, and wrapped himself closer around Scott, who clearly wasn't getting the hint that he really wanted, well needed to get back to bed, after all the window was wide open and both of them were still quite naked, things were in danger of developing frostbite.

"Yeah, but, we got it, it's flown off, and we're now both freezing, I doubt it'll come back tonight, so can we shut the window?" he mewed, and Scott's eyes widened in realisation.

"Sorry sweetie, hang on, back in a second." He told him, and Isaac cocked his head at him in confusion, which turned to alarm as his boyfriend sprang out the window, landing cat like on the ground, then quickly used his strength to hoist himself up into the tree.

Isaac watched Scott's progress, admiring the way the moon illuminated his boyfriend's naked body, and prayed to god none of the neighbours were awake and watching his naked boyfriend scaling their tree. Scott pulled the knife out, jumped down from the tree, then clambered up the side of the house, clambering back into his now freezing room, before proffering his boyfriend's knife to him.

"Your knife my love," he said proudly, making a small bow, and Isaac bowed back before taking it off him.

"Thank you, my champion." He said softly, kissing him and then slamming shut the window, trying to build some heat back in the room, while contemplating lighting all the candles again to generate a bit more heat. He looked at his knife, and frowned.

"Um, dear, we have a problem. Sin City like actually." He told him, and Scott looked at him in confusion.

"What, gang warfare?" he asked in confusion, and Isaac looked at his boyfriend in bafflement before he joined the dots to find out what his idiot boyfriend was talking about.

"That's San Andreas dipstick," he chided, and Scott's eyes widened in realisation, "no, I mean Sin City, remember, Jessica Alba, Bruce Willis, the whole things black and white?" he asked, and Scott nodded, cottoning on.

"Yeah, other than the blood, the roses and the guy with the yellow blood." He recited, and Isaac nodded grimly, showing him the knife, which was indeed glistening with yellow blood.

"Wow, that's new, and all kinds of alarming." Scott mused, his nose wrinkling in disgust, and Isaac nodded, looking a bit bemused.

"So, we now have red, black and now yellow blood, how nice, we can make different world flags. Reckon we should take it to the sheriff in the morning?" he asked, and Scott mused, then nodded.

"Yeah, might as well, who knows, it might help somehow, and if nothing else, maybe somebody can explain why its yellow. Um," he mumbled, looking for something to store it in, but Isaac reached into a drawer, pulling out a Tupperware marked 'Emergency Art Supplies' (which had been used when inspiration had struck, and Scott had done a lot of naked modelling, that had been a good night) and emptied his stuff onto the desk and instead stored the knife inside it, sealing it shut.

"Ok, so, I'm now totally freezing, and so are you. Our creepy bat like voyeur has gone and got cut in the leg for his trouble, so can we please go back to bed now?" he begged, and Scott took Isaac's hands, pulling him close and pressing his body against his, trying to warm him up a little.

"Well, I mean, he was watching us for god knows how long, we need to make sure his violation of our rights hasn't, you know, affected us," he purred sensually into Isaac's ear, who moaned in pleasure, "so why don't we try and do something," he whispered, kissing his boyfriend's long neck, "vigorous," he teased, kissing his boyfriend's jaw, "to warm us up?" he finished, and smirked triumphantly as he felt that Isaac was just as interested in finding out if their ability to have sex was affected as he was.

Another three times later, as they had to make sure after all, they could confirm that their creepy perverted voyeur had not affected their ability to have sex whatsoever, and they were soon curled back up around each other, and by the time Melissa came in from work, she poked her head in, and smiled happily as she saw her two boys curled up together in bed, wrapped in their covers, Isaac snuggled into Scott, both of them sound asleep, reunited at last.

XX

"Another one?" Allegra hissed as she read the local news coming from Beacon Hills. Ten disappearances over the last two months, starting just around the time Scott and his pack had finally defeated Agravaine, and it seemed as though the disappearances had started around then. Allegra sipped her morning coffee, pondering the situation.

Nearly twenty years ago, more exactly about seventeen years ago, there had been a number of disappearances of teenagers, just like there had been now. By the time, Allegra had been sort of semi-retired, she had been passing control of the district over to John, however a paperwork snaffu had led to a delay in him taking over after her retirement, and as such a caretaker sheriff had been the one who had actually dealt with the whole mess, the disappearances happening over the space of two months. Eventually, they had culminated in the disappearance of three babies, and a known sex offender in the area had been fingered for the disappearances, however he too had vanished, seemingly going off the road in the preserve, though they had never found the body, or any sign of the three children that had been claimed to be his victims.

The thing that had attracted Allegra back at the time, other than obviously wanting to help find the missing children, had been that when the sex offender, one Clive Mariner, had gone off the road at Devil's Corner. Devil's Corner had been of interest to her in the year leading up to her retirement, and ever since she had discovered the truth about her grandson and his friends involvement in the supernatural, it had been niggling at the back of her mind.

Upon finding out about the supernatural, she had started thinking back over her numerous cases which had had, weird for want of a better word, aspects to them, and had quickly realised that if she went down that particular rabbit hole, she would go round the twist. However, despite trying to make her peace with the fact that the supernatural had clearly had more of an effect upon her career than she could ever have imagined, it was those two tragedies, both stemming from Devil's Corner that had kept haunting her at night. Not for any particular reason, it was more of a gut feeling, she felt there was something about those two cases that involved Devil's Corner that had…more about them.

Now, ordinarily, she would dismiss them and go about her business. But, the two cases in question continued to bother her for one simple reason: they were relevant to two members of Scott's pack.

One night, Jackson's birth parents had both been killed in a tragic car crash on Devil's Corner, she had attended the scene herself, and watched them rushing Jackson's mother to the hospital in an effort to save his life before it was too late. And then, a few months before she had packed it in, about eighteen months after Jackson had been born, another tragedy had happened, in which another couple had been killed, their young baby left abandoned on the side of the road, away from the totalled car and the parents who had been ripped apart, seemingly by some animal. Allegra had discovered recently that the boy in question in this instance had actually been Garrett, another member of Scott's pack, and she had been at this game far too long to believe in anything being that much of a coincidence.

It was like she always said, one was an accident, twice was a coincidence and three was a pattern. And now, numerous disappearances had been plaguing Beacon Hills, just like seventeen years ago, and one of them, the young lad Corey Bryant, had also vanished on Devil's Corner, and she may be jumping at shadows, but as far as she was concerned, the lad vanishing on that stretch of road made for the third part of the pattern, well, it did when combined with the return of the disappearances.

"Yep, there's something creepy going up there, just like before. The three kids…what were their names again? Noah Patrick, Tracy Stewart and Lucas North, on top of the others who went missing, and now all these kids, it's happening again, and if we don't crack it this time, there's no guarantee this won't repeat all over again." She snarled angrily, trying desperately to remember more about the whole thing as she read the news, an unsettled feeling developing her gut.

See, if it was the same thing, seventeen years later, she had a horrible feeling the supernatural was involved in it, and then, when you added in the fact that both Jackson and Garrett had lost their parents on the same corner where the damn sex offender had vanished off the face of the earth, well, she was quite justified in her bad feeling she reckoned, especially since whoever had been behind it all including the disappearances and likely murders of everyone missing had gotten away scot free.

The poor interim sheriff had never forgiven himself for not being able to crack the case, it had helped drive him to an early grave the poor bastard. But, Allegra mused, perhaps it was time they looked at the entirety of everything that was going on in town back then, the disappearances, the kidnappings of the three children, the presence of the sex offender, and of course of the death of Jackson and Garrett's parents. And if she was right, and it was indeed something to do with the supernatural, then Scott and his friends would wind up right in the firing line.

Allegra sighed, folding her paper, nodding to herself, fully resolved. This wasn't going to leave her alone, and the more she thought about it, the more anxious she became, and the more anxious she became, the more the gut feeling she had that there was something off about the whole thing developed. She got to her feet, nodding to herself, and smiling a little, she would pester John into letting her see the old files, see if looking through the cold cases, she could make some headway.

And besides, it would be nice to see Melissa and the boys, to find out how they had all gotten on in their PSATs, to see how the house was coming on after the fire, she could finally meet Camden and Rakaisha, and if she was lucky, to ogle the cute deputy. Smirking to herself, imagining Melissa's scandalised horror at her mother checking out Parrish, she checked the time, and saw the butcher would soon be open. Well, if she was going for an extended visit, she would be better bearing gifts, and he did have some nice braising steak on offer, yes, she'd make chilli when she arrived, that would be a good meal to start her trip off right.

She just hoped that she was wrong about the supernatural being involved in this, but the feeling in her gut gave her a horrible feeling that she was actually right, and that things had only just started to get worse.

XX

The executive suite, as the Dread Doctors called it, was the room that should have been another set of quarters for the Dread Doctors. Back then, Valack had perceived that there should be four of them, and indeed had someone lined up to take that role…however his treachery had risked the complete exposure of the Dread Doctors entire operation, and as such, they had been forced to rather unceremoniously leave Beacon Hills before they had been ready. As a result, the quarters that should have belonged to their would-be colleague had instead been transformed into their executive suite, the private 'research' chamber, where all three Dread Doctors practiced their malignant experiments.

The Geneticist was there, prowling between the two victims of their current experiment, her eyes lingering on the boy to her right, who was being attended to by the Pathologist. He wasn't nearly as unique as the boy to her left, but a werechameleon, out alone in the world, he was a fascinating creature, and if she could find some way to adapt his camouflage ability for Project Typhon, that would be a great contribution to her research. The boy, Corey, was struggling against his bonds, and was tied to the operating table with thick leather belts that had been pulled good and tight, tighter than the last time, he had managed to wriggle loose the last time he had been the guest of the Pathologist, and the Pathologist, after being struck in the face with the boy's long, extendible and very muscular tongue.

Corey looked emaciated, he had been here the longest other than those prisoners that they had brought with them back to their home base, so that was to be expected. His black hair was shaved in odd places, a result of the numerous experiments the Surgeon had been doing. He had also just recovered the use of his tongue, as due to his striking the Pathologist with it, the Geneticist had performed a none too gentle biopsy on it, taking a significant chunk out of it, also to contribute research towards Project Typhon. He was very pale and weak, the result of having lost quite a lot of blood in recent weeks as he was currently being used as a tap for the doctors experiments. His eyes however, to his great relief, so far, had both stayed within his skull, despite how fascinating all three of the Dread Doctors found them, as they were able to work essentially like a camera lens, zoom in on things and also work independently of each other. They also had been quite interested in the fact that his eyes were a glowing hazel when his powers were activated, having not seen that colouration before. Corey strained against the bonds holding him to the table, trembling with terror as the Pathologist strolled around, surveying him as he prepared a syringe, and Corey whimpered in terror, not knowing whether it was to inject or extract, but confident he didn't want to know either way.

The Pathologist was stockier than the Surgeon, who was on the other side of the room attending to their other 'guest'. The Pathologist was dressed, as were his companions, in a double-breasted steampunk outfit, grey in colour. His mask was less intricate than the others, and was smoother in appearance, yet still had a metallic grille in place of a mouth. His eyes were covered in panes of black glass, inserted into goggles that seemed to be biting into his skull. The Pathologist surveyed the boy on the table before him, and with a nod from the Geneticist to know that she was watching, plunged the syringe into a very vulnerable part of the werechameleon's body.

Corey screamed in agony, and shuddered in pain, revulsion and denial as he felt the syringe extract fluid from him, trying to thrash and prevent it happening, but the pain was agonising, it was like fire burning all through him, please let it stop!

"There Corey, that wasn't so bad was it," the Pathologist asked a second later, removing the syringe from where he had it, and readjusting his victim's underwear to cover his modesty again, "just a little prick…which is more than can be said for you, I'm sure you'll make someone very happy one day…well you would if you were ever going to leave our hospitality." He mocked in his soft voice as Corey sobbed in pain, the agony still torturing him, squirming to try and feel right again as the Pathologist opted for another toy to continue his victim's suffering.

"C-hmph!" his companion tried to shout in horror, only for the Surgeon to stick his hand in his mouth to stop him speaking as the Pathologist picked up another syringe, the only saving grace being that this one was much smaller and thinner, much more intricate as he approached the boy's head, Corey sobbing and whining in his throat.

"Come Corey, you should be happy! After all, you are so unique, you will be a great help to our efforts with Project Typhon, and when we succeed, your name will go down in the annals of your people…until we wipe them all out anyway." The Geneticist taunted nastily, as the Pathologist grabbed the boy's head and used his two longest fingers to force open the boy's glowing hazel eyes.

"No, please, please, no more, please!" Corey screamed, and the Pathologist chuckled, before slamming his victim's head into the table, dazing the boy a little.

"Now Corey, you do recall what happens when you don't cooperate, don't you? I would hate to have to cut out your entire tongue this time, though it would be fascinating to discover whether or not it grows back, wouldn't you say? Perhaps a task for another day?" he asked his companions cheerfully, and the other two Dread Doctors laughed as Corey whimpered.

The Pathologist then raised the syringe up to Corey's eye, but the werechameleon started to shudder, jerking his head to try and stop him entering his eye with the syringe, and the Pathologist sighed in irritation, before jerking his head towards the Geneticist, who approached and roughly seized Corey's head, holding it still and none too gently pried his eye open, her fingers digging into the skin around his eye socket.

"No, don't! DON'T, PLEASE!" he screamed, as the Pathologist rather gently inserted the needle into Corey's eye, the boy screaming in terror and excruciating pain as he gently pulled something out of his eye, only for the boy to pass out as soon as the Geneticist let go of his head.

"He'll make a full recovery, fascinating creature really." The Pathologist said idly, gesturing vaguely at all the little extractions they had taken from Corey over the course of the experiment, and now that Corey was passed out (the Geneticist surveyed his medical readouts and reckoned he was in no immediate danger), they could turn their attention to the Surgeon's pet project, as the Surgeon removed his hand from the boy's mouth.

"COREY! Wake up! When I get out of here, I'm going to…" Theo vowed furiously, straining against his bonds, only to be fixed with what he could only assume to be a bored look from the Geneticist as she and the Pathologist approached the other operating table.

"Please, Theo, you're bound to a bed, and not even in the fun way." She sneered, and the Surgeon nodded, his third blue eye glowing mysteriously within his helmet.

"Which is more than can be said for the local Alpha…the third eye can be both a blessing and curse my friends," he told his companions dryly, who chuckled, as Theo thrashed furiously on the operating table.

The room was clearly the Dread Doctor's private sanctum. Not nearly as sanitary as other operating rooms, the walls were sprayed with geysered, dried in blood of numerous colours. Chains and manacles hung from the ceiling, and hellish instruments of their trade surrounded the room, on tables and in cabinets. However, above the cabinets in active use were other cabinets, glass fronted, with dozens of jars inside them. Most disturbing of all, those jars were filled with various grisly trophies, including eyeballs, tongues, claws, and other less than savoury parts of the anatomy accumulated from their numerous victims over the years. But this room was different from all the others, with the exception of the library, as this room had a beautifully painted motif on the wall. While the wall only had the testament to the Dread Doctor's brilliance that had been defeated through bad luck on their part a generation before, this motif was different.

This motif depicted the Dread Doctor's greatest achievement to date, their monstrous beast that they had created not once, but twice now. However the other creature was something that hadn't been seen before, something that had been identified by the third sight of the Surgeon, a beast clad in flame, battling their pet monster. Theo was pretty sure that whatever this motif was depicting, when and if it ever happened, he wanted to be as far away from it as humanly possible.

"Let me go!" Theo snarled, only for the Surgeon to backhand him, his head snapping to the side, his whole world spinning.

"Now Theo, we've had this discussion. You are our guest, and after your parents so rudely left our premises," the Surgeon hissed, seizing the boy by the neck and forcing him to look into the sightless red goggles that covered his eyes, but Theo shuddered, freaked out more by the glowing blue eye in the centre of his head which was looking at him furiously, "without so much as a goodbye when we went to such lengths to save your life, well, we're feeling a bit…taken for granted. You aren't going anywhere. You were born in this facility, in our facility," he whispered malevolently into Theo's ear, who struggled, wanting to be free, but the Surgeon then began to squeeze his neck, choking him angrily, "and that makes you, like your dead sister, ours. And unless you want to have a lovely reunion with your sister, you will behave yourself."

"Besides Theo," the Geneticist purred, stroking her hand lustfully up his body, which was still quite well defined despite his captivity, "you are so important to our research. Indeed, you are most likely the most unique creature the world has ever seen! And that makes you so special to us my sweet boy," she told him in a chilling, babylike voice as she petted his hair, as the Surgeon let go of his neck and Theo, who had been going red, gasped for air.

"What makes me so special?" he ground out, as the Pathologist approached him, with the lethal tray of utensils he had been experimenting on Corey with, and the other man laughed, a chilling sound as he fixed his goggle clad eyes on the teenager.

"Everything my dear boy. You are unique, a Chimera among Chimeras, you are very special my boy, very special indeed." He told him, and Theo suddenly had a horrible feeling that him being special was actually going to make his life way more horrific instead of better.

"A Chimera?" he asked in confusion, his voice shaking with fear, and the Geneticist chuckled, patting his cheek.

"Yes, and because you are so unique Theo, I believe you are the key that I have long sought: the key to the full potential of Project Typhon. Doctor," she said, a sadistic lilt to her voice as she addressed the Surgeon, gesturing to Theo, who was now sweating significantly in terrified panic, "your patient."

"Thank you, Doctor. Now Theo, let us begin. First of all, we need to make sure your sister's heart is all present and correct and in working order, let's have a look, shall we?" the Surgeon asked eagerly, and turned to the Pathologist's medical tray, while Theo struggled against his bonds again, doing so even more as he realised the Surgeon was picking up a very sharp scalpel.

"No, wait, what you doing man? Come on, don't, don't do this, please!" Theo begged, frantic, no he couldn't do this, he wouldn't let them do this to him, he had to, what could he even do, he was bound, he was stuck, god let help come, please let help come, the maniac was going to cut him open!

And it was then that the three Dread Doctors started to laugh, a sinister grating laugh caused by their face masks, and the Geneticist then struck like a viper, grabbing Theo's unkempt hair, and slammed it back into the table holding him still while the Pathologist watched, squirming with excitement as the Surgeon approached, scalpel in hand, the Pathologist forcing his hand down on Theo's chest to prevent him moving.

"Please, don't, or at least put me under!" he screamed, and the Geneticist bent close to him, her metallic faceplate just beside his ear.

"Oh my dear Theo…after all the problems your parents caused us, you're lucky we're feeding you. They owe us, and as they've vanished into the aether, well, their debts will literally have to come out of your own flesh and blood," she commented softly, her voice like shattering glass.

"What, no, come on, god fuck, no, please!" he screeched, and the Surgeon laughed.

"Oh it's always so much more invigorating when they scream and beg!" he crowed, chuckling, his companions following suit, "do hold the boy still Doctor, it was some of my finest work, and I'd rather not make a meal of it." He chided, and both the Pathologist and the Geneticist held the boy down firm as Theo thrashed, or at least tried to, but he was so weak, and the two of them were so strong!

"No, come on man, please," he screamed, as the Surgeon got ever closer to his chest with his scalpel, "don't do this! DON'T! NO!"

"Oh, and do try and not die, after all, you are the key to Project Typhon…and the annihilation your entire, disgusting race." The Geneticist sneered, a chilling but measured insane hatred in her voice, and the Surgeon then made his incision, Theo screaming in agony as the Surgeon cut open his chest, blood pouring from the wound as the three Dread Doctors continued their insidious experiment.

So, disappearances abound, and Scott's grandmother is planning to make a return to Beacon Hills, I had such fun writing her last season she has a bigger role in this season

And did anyone believe for a second that Isaac would be gone for long?

And now, we have met the Dread Doctors, with my own take on them, and seen some of their unfortunate victims, and I fear these insidious ghouls are only just getting started...

Onto the next part of the episode, but please, read and review!