"Feel the fury closing in

All resistance wearing thing

Nowhere to run from all of this havoc

Nowhere to hide"

Madness by Ruelle

Upon reaching Brett and Lori's home at about one in the morning, Sara had decided to stay over, as per Lori's request, having a mini, last-minute sleepover as both Brett and Lori had many, many questions. And Sara didn't mind as she had nothing better to do that evening and felt better knowing that she could watch over them knowing, at minimum, that Brett was a target. She also didn't want to leave them so soon after Brett had been poisoned since he would be incredibly weak for at least a day.

He couldn't fight well in his current state, so he'd be unable to protect himself or Lori. But Sara was itching for a fight. She could feel her spirit stirring, not having felt the excitement of a difficult fight in weeks. It was reacting to the rising tension brewing in the air and the desire to protect those close to her—safeguard the people it had deemed worthy of its protection.

The following morning, after Brett and Lori's adoptive parents had gone to work, Brett and Sara were curled up on the couch watching cartoons with bowls of cereal in their laps, and Lori was still sound asleep in her room. None of the three were planning on going to school that day after the night they'd had.

Brett and Sara watched as Tom, from the cartoon Tom and Jerry, vied for the affection of a girl cat, while he was in direct competition with another cat also wanting her affection.

"You know, this reminds me of something," Brett said while chewing.

Sara made a disgusted noise. "Don't talk with your mouth full," she said. Brett made a show of showing the half-eaten food in his mouth, laughing as Sara shoved his face away. "You're disgusting."

Brett swallowed the cereal before he started talking again. "Anyway, prissy, as I was saying before I forget. . ."

"Yes, your majesty?" Sara teased. "A cartoon of two cats fighting over a girl reminds you of something?"

"Yesterday before the game."

Sara furrowed her brows. "When specifically?"

"When me and you were talking outside the locker room," Brett explained. "After you left, I rejoined my teammates and noticed that I was not-so-subtly being watched by two guys." He shrugged, ate a spoonful of cereal, then continued. "At first, I thought it was just because of the whole thing with Liam, but nah. It was more than that. I thought the only one I needed to worry about on the field was Liam, not number eleven."

Sara couldn't remember at first who had the jersey numbered eleven. "Number eleven?"

"Yeah, yeah, the captain, I think. What's his name?"

That's when the realization hit her. "That's Scott."

"The alpha?" Brett asked, making sure he remembered right, and Sara nodded in confirmation. "Ah, well, he wanted me to cool it on Liam, obviously, but he seemed particularly peeved and jealous about something else."

Sara watched him closely. "What do you mean?"

Brett gave her a considering look. "I know the smell of jealousy. I've gotten very used to it. It's distinctive, and the annoyance was definitely toward me. And that's when it clicked that he had been one of the two that saw me talking to you." A smirk slowly overtook his features.

Sara groaned and said, "Not you, too."

"The hell does that mean?" Brett asked, surprised.

"Just one person." She shook her head. "I just want one person to not tease me about Scott's giant crush on me."

His head tilted at her wording. "It sounds more like you're annoyed at the teasing, not the crush."

"Leave me alone," she quickly shut down.

That only made Brett more amused at the situation, but he didn't say anything else about it. Though he did make a silent plan to learn more about Scott McCall and figure out how he managed to get that reaction from Sara.


"We never got the exact location about their meeting place," Isaac said as leaned on the passenger door in Derek's car.

Their drive to the preserve was slower than Isaac would have liked, though honestly, Isaac really did not want to be in the woods looking for the pack of the guy who had slept with Sara. On multiple occasions, by the sound of it. Even more so since Sara seemed more concerned about this Brett guy than her best friend. Except Isaac supposed he couldn't exactly be called her best friend anymore. He hadn't thought she'd be as pissed at him as she was, but he couldn't find it in him to be surprised either.

"Knowing Satomi and her pack, I doubt they'd be able to give anything too specific," Derek said as he took a turn.

"What makes you say that?" Isaac asked, picking his head up from his hand.

"Satomi's old and wise. I wouldn't be surprised if the meeting place changes often to keep hunters off their tracks."

Isaac studied Derek as they drove, and he could tell something was wrong. Isaac had been Derek's first beta, so whether Derek liked it or not, Isaac knew him decently well. And everything about Derek's demeanor read tense, uncomfortable, and angry.

"Derek, are you mad at me?" Isaac asked quietly.

Derek didn't even glance at him. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, you won't look at me, for one," Isaac pointed out. "You haven't since we got to your loft last night."

While Isaac had crashed on Derek's couch during the night, he was under no illusion that Derek had offered it as little more than a basic courtesy due to them heading out early in the morning.

Isaac could hear the quiet sigh pass through Derek's lips, picking it up just over the sound of the engine rumbling. Slowly, Derek came to a stop at a stop sign on the empty road and turned to face Isaac with his signature look of stern disappointment. The expression always managed to make Isaac feel worse than he had when his dad was alive. It struck deeper than any physical blow could.

"I'm not mad, Isaac," Derek began.

Isaac sunk further into the seat. "But you're not happy either."

"No. . . No, I'm not," Derek admitted. "I understand why you ran. What I don't understand is why you didn't think anyone would understand. . ." He trailed off, letting his words take effect.

Isaac ducked his head down, digging his foot into the floor of the car. He hadn't thought much about his decision to leave nor how much his decision had affected others, only that he had to get away from everything. Every overwhelming emotion, every unending memory. It hadn't just been what happened to Allison. It was a mixture of everything that had happened in less than a year.

Allison, Aiden, and Erica dying. His dad dying. The attacks and subsequent nightmares. The Alpha Pack, Darach, and Nogitsune all in the span of three months. Being a fugitive and being homeless. Falling into a coma, poisoned by wolfsbane, and mind-controlled by a fly. Getting the bite, regretting getting the bite, and coming to terms with the chaos that was his new life.

And at the end of it all, Chris Argent, the man who had once been his enemy but offered a bit of fatherly advice and comfort that Isaac hadn't had in years. Not since his brother Camden was alive.

But sitting next to Derek right then made Isaac realize that while he didn't regret going off with Argent, he hadn't had to shut everyone else out in the process.

"I didn't think of it like that," Isaac said quietly, his voice deep and gravelly.

"I know, Isaac. I know," Derek told him gently, and Isaac picked his head up to look him in the eye. "You did what you thought was best for you at the time, and I don't blame you for it. I've done it before, too. But now that you're back, you need to understand that everyone went through their own things. You hurt a lot of people by leaving, and that's not going to change just because you came back. It'll take time."

Derek knew better than anyone that running away and hiding away sometimes felt like the right thing to do, either to protect himself or others, but he also learned through those experiences that there are often unintended consequences. Relationships could be patched up and wrongs rectified, but it didn't happen right away. It took time and effort. But it was often worth it.

"Sara will come around," Derek reassured. "But she also took it the hardest. Give her some space and time, and eventually, you'll work it out. She won't be mad at her Izzy forever."

Isaac tried for a grateful smile. "Thanks, Derek."

Derek nodded then started driving once again.


By third hour, Liam's best friend Mason had grown worried at the lack of seeing him. Mason was incredibly weirded out at Liam's recent behavior, but even so, ditching Mason on their run before school didn't fit the bill with his recent weirdness, especially when adding how Liam didn't seem to be at school at all. So, Mason did the only thing he could think of doing; he decided to approach Scott McCall who, despite Mason having noticed their rough start, had seemingly taken Liam under his wing which Mason had to admit sounded pretty strange to him, but he didn't openly question it.

Since Mason didn't know about Liam's whereabouts, he hoped Scott did. He found him at his locker between classes, noticeably lacking any of his friends for once. Mason also noticed that Scott seemed rather distracted.

Mason walked up to Scott and began with, "Uh, hey, Scott?"

Scott twitched and turned to look at him. It took Scott a moment to say anything as a passing look of recognition spread. "Mason, right? You're Liam's best friend," Scott said.

The corner of Mason's mouth twitched up, silently pleased that the hot lacrosse team captain knew his name even if he had been delegated to little more than 'Liam's best friend.' It was better than being at the bottom of the social barrel and not being known at all.

"Yeah, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you'd seen Liam today?" Mason asked. "I thought he just ditched me on our run this morning, but I haven't seen him here at all."

Scott's back straightened as his brows pinched. From their conversation the previous night, Scott knew Liam was feeling nervous and stressed about the dead pool, but he doubted Liam would try to run from it all as it didn't seem like that was something he'd do. Hopefully, Liam had simply gone home and forgotten to tell anyone. Scott didn't need a missing beta on top of everything else.

"I haven't seen him," Scott confessed. "But I usually don't anyway. Do you share any morning classes with him?"

"Just first hour, but he wasn't there."

"Why don't we ask around?" Scott said.

Together, they looked around the school, asking other teachers if they had seen Liam. While they walked, Scott also sent a few texts to Liam and the others in the pack, asking everyone if they had seen Liam, but none of them had. They finished with Coach, finding Coach in his office with a bottle of NyQuil, a red nose, and a bunch of used tissues.

"Sorry, guys," Coach said, his words sounding plugged and heavy. "Liam skipped my class. Maybe he's sick. . . like me. . ."

Scott and Mason slowly backed away from the door frame, both silently thinking that Coach should really head home, but neither said it out loud. Scott looked away after seeing Coach take a drink directly from the NyQuil bottle.

Mason said, "Liam didn't look sick on our run."

Scott didn't doubt that as werewolves couldn't get sick with something like the flu, but he didn't tell Mason that. He pulled out his phone, double-checking the texts he had sent Liam and seeing no response.

"He's not getting back to any of my texts," Scott said.

"Mine, either." Mason turned around, intending to walk away as the school bell rang.

Scott noticed the dejected look on Mason's face. "Yeah, don't worry," he tried to reassure, keeping his voice light. "I'll find him. But text me if you see him."

Mason nodded with a sigh. "Alright." Then he turned and walked off

Scott watched him walk away, feeling an increasing sense of worry for the young beta that was supposed to be under his protection. Mason seemed like a good kid though, Scott couldn't help thinking. He reminded him of Stiles. Or rather, Liam and Mason reminded him of himself and Stiles in general.

As Scott stood there debating on what to do next, his phone rang, Liam's contact lighting up the screen. Something about it didn't quite seem right. He quickly answered it, bringing it to his ear.

"Liam?" he carefully asked the receiver.

"Sounds like you already know the answer to that, Scott," someone other than Liam answered. Scott recognized the smooth voice immediately. Garrett.

Scott tensed, pausing in his walk. "Where is he?" he asked, continuing down the hall away from the other students walking in the halls.

"Come on—like I'm actually going to tell you that."

Scott didn't know what Garrett wanted, but it at least sounded like he hadn't killed Liam, which was a step in the right direction at least. But he did recall the bag of cash that he had grabbed from Garrett's locker in the locker room, so he didn't know what else to say other than, "I'll give you the money."

Garrett scoffed on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, you will," he said. "But that's not going to get you Liam back. You're going to have to put in a little more effort than that."

It sounded like he'd be making a deal with the devil, but Scott had to try. He needed to get Liam back and away from a psychotic assassin. "What do you want?"

"I want the money and Violet," Garrett said. "Or you'll never see Liam again. I'm by the buses. Don't keep me waiting."

Scott grumbled as Garrett hung up the phone. He put his phone back in his pocket and hurried out of the nearest set of doors. He picked up Garrett's scent as he neared the parking lot and followed it until he found Garrett holding a lacrosse stick while leaning on the side of a bus. Scott met his gaze before going down the walkway between the two buses.

"Okay, what do you want?" Scott asked, glaring at Garrett. "You want me to go to Stilinski? I can do that. Or I can talk to my father—he's an FBI agent."

Garrett couldn't fight the brief amused grin at Scott's ridiculous offer before dropping it. "You think I want you talking to anyone with a badge? I'm not getting help from a werewolf because I want him to talk to someone."

But that left Scott unsure of what else he could do to get Violet out. "Then what am I supposed to do?" he asked.

"They're transferring Violet to a federal facility," Garrett told him. "You're not gonna let that happen." He pointed at Scott with the end of his lacrosse stick, the end where a hidden dagger was located. Despite the hidden threat of the knife, neither thought he'd use it right then.

"How?"

"They're going to put her in a car," Garrett explained. "We're going to follow it. We get ahead of it, you stop it." Garrett sounded increasingly annoyed and exasperated with each word he said.

"You want me to attack a car?" Scott asked, his expression twisting up. "That's your plan?"

"You're an alpha," Garrett stressed. He wondered how the hell Scott had managed to survive a pack of alphas coming after him with this level of cluelessness. "If you can't stop one little car, then one little beta is going to die." He let that sentiment sink in as he lifted the end of the lacrosse stick and pressed the button for the knife to pop out. "I stabbed your boy with a blade dipped in wolfsbane. Once it gets to the heart, bad things happen."


Derek and Isaac trudged through the woods, having started at the south entrance to the preserve. It was quiet other than the sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves. Derek had lost only a small portion of the tension in his gait after their brief heart-to-heart, so Isaac figured that something else was bothering him, not just the feelings he had toward Isaac's disappearing act. But Isaac kept the find to himself, for the time being.

As they came down one of the access roads, a scent hit Isaac's nose, and he stopped in his tracks, and Derek followed suit. Lifting his chin higher, he focused on the scent.

"What is it?" Derek asked, glancing around.

"Gunpowder," Isaac said, looking at him oddly as the answer was obvious. It should have been for anyone with their sense of smell.

Derek looked around at the forest floor until he found what he was looking for. He walked forward and knelt to grab a shell casing. "If Brett's pack is out here, I don't think they're meeting," Derek said. "They're hiding." He tossed the shell away. "Can you get a scent?"

"Can you?" Isaac blurted.

Derek hesitated for a moment too long.

Isaac tilted his head, eyes boring into his former alpha. "Derek, be honest with me."

Derek sighed. "You've missed a lot."

"You're kidding." Isaac shook his head, leaning back on his heels. "You've lost your sense of smell? How? Do the others know? Does Scott know?"

"Argent knows," Derek confided after a few seconds.

"How did it happen? Why did it happen? Why haven't you said something?" Isaac rattled off the questions one after the other.

"It was something Kate did," Derek answered slowly. "I don't know how, but when she captured me and buried me in a tomb in Mexico, I was turned back into a teenager, and when I turned back to. . . myself, my eyes weren't blue anymore." He flashed his wolf eyes, the yellow coloring shocking Isaac more. "I thought that was it, but it's everything. My sense of smell is gone. My healing is slower. . . I'm becoming human."

Isaac took in a sharp breath and looked away. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Derek had been the one to bite him. Derek was born a werewolf. Isaac didn't know him as anything other than a broody werewolf. Derek being human didn't even remotely sound right.

When Isaac looked at Derek again, he could see the pain in his eyes. "Derek, you need to tell Scott," he said. "I know it's hypocritical for me of all people to say that, but you need to, man. Maybe we can figure out how to stop it."

Derek shook his head. "It needs to wait. The dead pool is a very real threat. We need to find Brett's pack and help them."

"Derek," Isaac hissed, taking a few steps forward. "You just told me you're not healing like you used to. That also means you're not as fast or as strong as you used to. You're not up for fighting hunters."

"Assassins," Derek corrected.

"The name doesn't matter—"

"Yes, it does," Derek interrupted. "Because it means someone is out here right now tracking down Satomi's pack for a pile of cash. I'm still alive. I can do something about it even if I'm not as strong as I used to be. Now, are you going to help me or not?"

Isaac and Derek stared at each other until Isaac eventually gave in with a huff and shake of his head.

"Fine, Derek, but if you get shot, I'm saying I told you so."


Sara had been having a blissful day, all things considered, but it took a turn for the worst after nightfall when her, Lori, and Brett's gaming session (with Lori being weirdly good at kicking their asses at Mario Kart) was interrupted by a call from Deaton saying they needed her help and for her to come to the animal clinic right away.

Without hesitation, Sara left Brett's and drove to the animal clinic. She didn't know what was going on, who Deaton had meant by 'they', or if it was life or death, but she didn't care and didn't waste time asking questions. If Deaton—Mr. Secret Keeper of the Year—was asking for help, it didn't bode well for anyone involved.

So when Sara rushed into the exam room in the clinic and spotted Scott with a healing cut on his side and blood on his shirt, Sara was glad she got there as fast as she could. Why Chris was there and why Scott was holding a large, bloodied bone was anyone's guess.

"What the hell happened?" she immediately asked.

"Berserkers happened," Chris said vaguely.

"And Liam's missing," Scott added. "Kate has Violet—I think Violet knows where Liam is."

"Then, as much as this hurt, it could probably also help. . ." Deaton trailed off, looking at the giant bone still in Scott's hand.

Scott held the bone up to his nose and inhaled. "There's a scent. I can track it." He set the bone down on the exam table. "Garrett said he stabbed Liam with a blade dipped in wolfsbane. We need to hurry."

"I feel like I missed a lot," Sara muttered as Chris and Scott passed her with Scott setting a hand on her arm to silently urge her to follow.

Sara climbed into the back seat of Chris' car while Scott and Chris sat in the front seats. As Chris took off driving, with Scott sticking his head out the window and occasionally giving directions, Sara got the lowdown of the day from the two of them.

Liam went missing. Garrett blackmailed Scott into helping get Violet from the FBI and police. When Scott and Garrett went to get Violet from the prisoner transport, they arrived to see it had been attacked by Kate's Berserkers. Garrett was killed by a Berserker and Scott was injured and knocked unconscious. Chris arrived shortly after, having been tracking the Berserkers and his sister, and immediately called Deaton. Deaton and Riichi arrived, and Riichi healed Agent McCall and Sheriff's Stilinski's major injuries. Then before the police and ambulances arrived, Riichi and Deaton got Scott out of there, and Chris joined, having lost the tracks he had been following.

It made Sara want to slap herself. She dips for five minutes, and things go to shit. At this point, it made her never want to leave the boys alone.

"Should we call in Kira and Boyd? Or Malia and Isaac?" Sara asked. "This sounds like a reinforcement situation."

"Isaac is with Derek tracking down Satomi's pack," Scott answered, turning in the seat to look back at her, "and I think Kira's with her mom, but I don't know what Malia and Boyd are doing."

"Then let's get them in on this." Sara pulled out her phone and quickly shot a text to Boyd and Malia, hoping neither were busy and telling them they were heading eastbound toward the warehouse district. They'd need all the help they could get with Berserkers.

After slipping her phone back into her pocket, Sara's thoughts shifted to Derek. "Is it just me or has Derek been acting a little odd?" she asked.

"Yeah, I noticed that too, but if he doesn't want to talk about it, I'm not going to press. . ." Scott's tone grew softer as he looked out the window. "No matter how much I want him to."

Sara frowned at him, despite him not looking in her direction. She knew he was thinking of someone other than Derek, even if Derek's odd behavior was a small part of it. And after the past few days, she knew Scott was truly talking about her.

"If you have something to ask me, just ask," she said, unable to keep the terse tone from seeping in.

Scott quickly shook his head, avoiding her gaze. "Oh, no, no, I don't."

She didn't believe him in the slightest but didn't argue as he leaned out the window again and gave the eavesdropping Argent a direction to take the next left. Sara leaned on the door next to her and wondered how Derek and Isaac's search was going.

If she asked texted and asked, they'd say it was going poorly upon finding a bunch of dead bodies. A bunch of names crossed off the dead pool leaving Brett, Lori, and Satomi without much of a pack left.


They received confirmation over text that Boyd and Malia were on their way and "ten minutes out" as they—Chris, Scott, and Sara—pulled up outside of a warehouse that read "Argent Arms International" on the outside. Chris's expression melted into one of dismay and resolve as they climbed out of the car.

Scott recognized the expression. "You've been here before?" he asked, as though the name of the warehouse didn't make that clear.

"I worked here," Chris answered, thoughts of his younger years filtering through his mind. "We used to own the building—it was part of our business." Federally licensed firearms dealer, as Allison had once told Scott's dad.

"We've fought these things before," Scott told him. "They're strong, really strong."

Chris contemplated telling the two kids in front of him what he had once told Derek about the Berserker he had once faced but decided against it, knowing they shouldn't go into a potential fight with such pessimism.

Instead, he said, "That's why I brought this." Then he went to the back of his car, opened the trunk, and pulled out a large gun, closing the trunk after setting the gun against his shoulder.

Scott nodded. "I'm good with that."

"Careful not to fire where I'm firing," Sara said with a wink, a click of her tongue, and a finger gun.

Chris scoffed and then led the way into the building.

Sara wanted to make a quip about spooky abandoned warehouses and how people of color, i.e., her and Scott, shouldn't enter because they'd die like in most horror and thriller movies, but in the spirit of being better about her timing as well as the lack of Stiles with his own quips, she kept it to herself.

The warehouse stood cold in the January evening with a few industrial lights on in the inside, bathing the spacious room and plastic curtains in a green tint.

"You shouldn't have come," a disembodied voice echoed throughout the space. Feminine. Older. They looked around for the source but found no one.

"Kate," Scott said in response. "We're here for Violet. I need to talk to her."

The three carefully listened for a response, but upon receiving none, they began walking again. Slower that time. More carefully.

"I knew you'd find me. . ." A shadow of a woman appeared on the plastic sheet twenty feet in front of them.

Chris readied his gun and Sara's grip tightened on her chain.

". . . But I was hoping we could do this later," Kate finished. The shadow grew smaller as Kate walked toward the curtain. As she walked, two hulking shadows of her Berserkers joined her. "I just needed a little more time."

"For what?" Chris asked, inching forward with a stern gaze.

"To learn control," Kate answered, her claws running along the plastic before pushing it aside to show herself.

In the darkness of the building and with the flittering plastic sheet, it was hard to make out delicate details; even so, Sara had never seen a shapeshifter form like Kate's before. She'd seen a picture of Kate Argent in the newspaper after it was discovered that she had been the one to burn down the Hale House, and her shifted form changed everything. Feline instead of canine. Grey skin with a blue tint. Black markings of a jaguar. Green eyes.

"Lower the gun," Kate told her brother. "We walk away, and you don't have to get hurt."

"Where's Violet?" Scott asked, tensing upon hearing the rattling bones of the armor the Berserkers wore.

"Put the gun down, Chris."

"Where is she?" Scott tried again.

But she didn't answer, continuing to stare her brother down as the Berserkers loomed closer. As they growled in the silence. As the wind moved Sara's chain, and she tensed with a bated breath. As Chris set a finger on the trigger.

Scott's eyes flickered toward Chris's slight movement then back to Kate's quiet snarl. He didn't want this.

"No, no," he said, but it was too late. They had made up their minds.

The Berserkers ran straight for them, and Chris opened fire.

Kate disappeared behind the plastic sheets long enough to come out of nowhere to attack her brother, ending his rain of bullets long enough for the Berserkers to take on and separate Scott and Sara.

Sara leaped over the bone claws aiming for her stomach and threw her kunai in an arc toward the monster, slicing up its middle. The Berserker growled and charged after her as she disappeared into the plastic curtains and climbed up a set of scaffolding.

But her plan of a high-ground attack backfired as he simply barreled through the old setup upon seeing her location, reminding Sara that the creatures didn't think like humans or animals but rather ferocious wrecking balls. So, Sara jumped off as the scaffolding crumbled beneath her, only for the Berserker to grab her by the leg and flung her away. She landed on an old desk, it breaking with the force of her body hitting it and her chain dart ending up out of reach. Her head slammed into the floor as the wood of the desk landed around her.

The Berserker stared her down, huffing and tightening its fists. She knew it was going to run her down.

The smart thing to do would be to run or dive out of the way. But call her stubborn instead.

Sara rolled onto the balls of her feet, lighting her eyes up in the fiery orange as she prepared for it to charge despite her head pounding in pain. Heat coursed through her veins as she readied to throw balls of flame.

Then the Berserker went flying into the adjacent wall.

Where the Berserker once stood was Boyd, standing almost as tall and wide as a Berserker himself. A rough hand grabbed Sara by the arm and hauled her up, and Sara looked to see it was Malia helping her.

"What'd we miss?" Malia asked, grinning like a wild animal.

"Let's kill this son of a bitch," Sara said, a snarl pulling at her upper lip.

"Don't need to tell me twice." Malia shifted and turned toward the Berserker that was picking itself up from the floor. Sara heard a growl emanating from the back of Malia's throat.

It wasn't often coyotes hunt large prey, but Malia wasn't going to let that stop her with a fox and a wolf by her side.

The three attacked the Berserker together, with Boyd and Malia assailing it with their claws and Sara coating her fists in fire to pummel it with burning punches. While the Berserker tried to attack one of them, the other two came up from behind to execute their own attack.

The Berserker growled in frustration as it tried to ram its body into Sara as the smallest, but Boyd grabbed it by the bone armor and threw it to the ground.

Before the Berserker could catch his bearings, Boyd and Sara grabbed him by the arms, and Malia, true to her coyote nature, sunk her teeth into the side of his neck, one of the few spots showing bare skin. Her jaws clamped down around the mass of flesh and ripped it out, coating Malia in a spurt of fresh blood. The Berserker let out a loud cry of rage and pain as blood squirted and spilled from the wound, covering the bone armor in dark red.

Malia spit out the chunk of muscle and bit of tracheal cartilage as the three stepped back and watched the Berserker frantically trying to cover and stop the bleeding, but the wound was too big and the blood was spilling too fast with the carotid severed. It couldn't breathe as its movements slowed.

And it stilled.

And it collapsed.

And it didn't move.

They each let out a quiet gasp at the sight as the realization set in. They'd done something they hadn't fully believed was possible after everything they'd seen and tried during previous encounters. They killed a Berserker.

They killed a Berserker.

They managed to slay a supernaturally enhanced monster that was some parts human and all parts terrifying.

Then Kate realized what happened too, not hearing or feeling the presence and power of the Berserker, and she let out a loud howl.

Did it count as a howl if she was a werejaguar instead of a werewolf? No, it was a roar. Definitely a roar, filled with anger and rage and a hint of desperation. She was down a soldier, down an important show of her power.

Kate disappeared into the shadows of the building, followed closely by her remaining Berserker, leaving Scott and Chris bloodied and bruised on the floor and unsure of what had happened to make Kate run away.

But Sara, Boyd, and Malia knew, unable to look away from the body still bleeding out on the dirty floor in front of them. The pool of blood grew bigger by the second with the scent of copper permeating the air.

"Did we really—" Boyd started but cut himself off, holding his side as a wound began to heal.

"Yeah. . . yeah, we did," Sara answered quietly. She wanted to pinch herself, thinking it might've been a dream. And she couldn't look away lest it simply got back up again like every other attempt at killing it had gone.

But Malia's teeth had done the job. She went for the throat just like a coyote. Just like a Hale. And blood continued to drip from her mouth with the taste of fresh blood being familiar to her due to her years spent as a wild animal. She made no move to wipe it away.

In the adjacent room, Scott was helping Chris up from the floor, both injured and tired. And Scott helped Chris limp over to his friends. Both stopped at the sight of the dead Berserker in front of them.

"Holy crap," Scott blurted, eyes widening.

"At least one good thing came from this meeting," Chris said with a haphazard chuckle before wincing.

"Violet's not here then?" Boyd asked.

Scott gestured vaguely behind him. "Kate killed her."

"I'm sorry, Scott," Sara said with a gentle expression.

"I'm not going to find him." Scott's voice was full of dismay and dejection.

"There's still time, Scott," Chris reassured. "There's still time." If anyone knew the rough timeframe of a werewolf poisoned by wolfsbane it was Chris Argent.

"So, what now?" Malia asked. "We can try to track him by scent. He wears the same crappy cologne that most of the freshman boys wear. Shouldn't be too hard."

"Assuming Garrett didn't do something to cover Liam's scent," Boyd said. "It wouldn't be hard to do with enough wolfsbane or water."

"Or if Garrett took Liam in his car which would also disrupt the scent trail," Sara added.

"It's really our only choice," Scott said. "We need to do everything we—"

He cut off his words as a noise reached his enhanced ears. Liam's roar. Scott, Malia, and Boyd all tensed and turned in the direction of the origin.

Despite not knowing what he and the other two heard, Sara knew they heard something, so she said, "Go."

Scott nodded and took off running, Boyd following after him to provide aid. Malia stayed behind with Sara, both taking Chris by his arms to steady him on their walk back to his car.


Sara drove Chris and Malia in Chris's car back to the animal clinic where Riichi and Deaton were working and waiting. As Riichi healed Chris of the injuries sustained in his fight with Kate, Sara relayed the story of what happened. Then Scott and Boyd finally arrived, carrying an unconscious Liam between them.

Deaton made an incision on Liam's chest, just as he had done for Brett to release the wolfsbane from his blood vessels. Sara burned the wolfsbane in his system. Riichi used water to make sure his body was healing properly.

As Liam lay on the exam table unconscious, Scott wiped Liam's forehead with his sleeve and then shook his head. "I don't want to keep watching people die," he said softly.

"That's easier said than done," Sara said from his side as she looked at him with a soft expression. All she could think was how he carried too much weight on his shoulders.

"I'm not sure you have much choice about that," Chris told him.

But that didn't deter him. "Maybe I do."

"That's a lot of burden to carry, Scott," Deaton said.

"I don't care." Scott's voice was soft but carried with it a firm resolution. "No one else dies. Everyone on that list—everyone on that dead pool—it doesn't matter if they're wendigos, or werewolves, or whatever. I'm gonna save everyone."

Boyd clapped him on the shoulder, causing Scott to look up. "We'll be right there with you."

"All of us," Sara added, and Malia nodded as well. Chris, Riichi, and Deaton all stood tall.

Scott's jaw set as he looked at the members of his pack, at his friends, at his allies. He'd protect them. He'd save them even if it was the last thing he'd do.

Unbeknownst to him, the one he had to worry the most about was Derek as Lydia and Stiles discovered that Derek's name cracked the last third of the list. A banshee doesn't simply sense death; they predict it.


Hey hey! Hope you all are liking it so far! Questions and thoughts are welcome!