This is what I'm doing on my dad's birthday lmao. Enjoy the chapter!

Reviews:

Momochan77: Thanks so much! I just had to save Boyd, so I'm glad you liked it. I mean, I made a character that had healing powers, how could I not take the opportunity for him to save someone?

Captain Boshtet: Gotta keep some secrets to myself lol, but I do have some plans for Boyd since he deserved better than to be killed off then almost completely forgotten right after. I find it really easy to write many of Scott and Sara's scenes together since I think they complement each other well, so I'm glad people are liking them. And finally, I totally thought I had weaved just enough backstory for the family of kitsune's relationship with the Hale's so that it didn't seem out of nowhere, but I guess I could've done better lol. I think I just focused more on Sara's resentment rather than any of the positive memories, so that's my bad. Thanks for the review!

"There's some things I should have said

I was too afraid

It was just so hard to let you know

Now it's all too late"

Brave Enough by Lindsey Sterling & Christina Perri

We were supposed to go to the movies.

We were supposed to go to the movies.

We were supposed to go to the movies.

How do you fuck up going to the movies? It's the simplest fucking thing to do in the world. But no, we fucked that up. Lydia just had to be the one driving. When Lydia, Allison, and I realized why Lydia had brought us to the school, we immediately called Stiles and Scott.

"Where is she?" I heard one of the boys asked.

"Over here," Allison called to grab their attention as we walked over to meet them.

Stiles and Scott stopped in front of us under one of the overhangs. "Lydia?" Stiles asked, concerned.

"It's the same thing," she explained. "Same thing as the pool. We got into the car heading somewhere totally different and ended up here. And you told me to call you if there's a dead body."

"You found a dead body?" Stiles asked loudly.

"Wow, Stiles, could you be any louder?" I questioned, annoyed, and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not sure the graves heard you." He glared at me.

"Not yet," the redhead corrected, ignoring my snark in favor of simply answering the anxious human.

Stiles frowned even more. "Not yet? What do you mean 'not yet?' Lydia, you're supposed to call us after you find the dead body."

Lydia raised her hand, full stop. "Oh, no, I'm not doing that again. You find the dead body from now on."

"How are we supposed to find the dead body?" Stiles questioned. "You're always the one finding the dead body."

"Guys," Scott interrupted. We looked at him, seeing that he was looking off in the distance at something. "I found the dead body." On the large stone sign for the school laid the bloody, mangled body of a person.

Oh, that's great. I only wanted to watch a damn movie.

"Idioms, analogies, metaphors, and similes," Ms. Blake listed. I glanced at the clock for the fourth time in the past ten minutes. "All tools the writers uses to tell their story." Ms. Blake paused, and I looked up at her to see her staring down at something Lydia was drawing in the seat beside me. "Lydia, I wasn't aware you had so many hidden talents."

"You and every guy I've ever dated," Lydia replied. I snorted and covered my hand to keep myself from laughing. Even after leading us to a dead body the night before, Lydia was still Lydia.

Ms. Blake didn't quite know how to respond to her. "Oh, um, well, that was an idiom, by the way." Lydia didn't care, returning back to her drawing. The perky teacher started walking again. "Idioms are something of a secret to the people who know the language or the culture." Ms. Blake stopped again, staring uncomfortably down at Stiles, Scott, and I. Right, she was used as leverage against Derek the other night. She knows we're part of the supernatural mess. "They're phrases that only make sense if you know key words. Saying 'jump the gun' is meaningful only if you know about the starting gun in a race, or a phrase like 'seeing the whole board.'"

"Like chess," Stiles muttered to himself.

Ms. Blake heard his quiet statement. "That's right, Stiles. Do you play?"

Stiles looked up at her. "Uh, not really. My father does." That was an understatement considering I beat his ass easily at the game.

Ms. Blake smiled at him then returned to the rest of the class. "Now, when does an idiom become a cliché?"

When it's overused, I answered in my head. Like "making history" or "spearheading."

From the seat in front of me, Scott leaned closer to Stiles and glanced at me, so I leaned forward, too, to hear what he had to say. "I think I can get to Ethan," he told us quietly. "I'm pretty sure I can make him talk."

"What do you want to do that for?" Stiles asked.

"Sara and I think we figured something out the other night," he explained. I rubbed my eye. The way he said it sounded weird. "The other night" like we spent the night together or something. Why am I thinking about that anyway? "The Druids are emissaries, right? So what if the Darach was an emissary to the alphas?"

"Okay, first of all, I cannot believe that we've gotten to the point where a sentence like, 'What if the Darach was an emissary to the alphas?' actually makes sense to me." Stiles had a point, to be fair. "Second of all, we're gonna have a huge problem getting to Ethan."

"Right," I agreed with a nod. "Aiden hasn't left Ethan's side since he's been back at school. How are we going to separate them?" The lightbulb went off for all three of us and we turned to Lydia.

Lydia looked up from her drawing of a tree, exasperated and totally and completely done. "What now?"

With Lydia distracting Aiden the best way she knows how, Scott, Stiles, and I found ourselves chatting with Ethan on the stairs, Stiles and I leaning against the wall while Scott planned to do the talking.

"Why are you even talking to me?" Ethan wondered with exasperation. "I helped kill your friend. How do you know I'm not gonna kill another one?" He looked at Stiles.

"Is he looking at me?" Stiles asked, glancing at me then back at Ethan. "Are you threatening me?" He kicked off the wall. Oh, this'll be entertaining. "You know what I'm gonna do? I'm going to break off an extra-large branch of Mountain Ash, wrap it in wolfsbane, roll it in mistletoe, have Sara set it on fire, and shove it up your freaking-"

"Whoa, Stiles, okay," Scott interrupted, patting his best friend on the chest with an amused grin. "We get it."

I sighed as Stiles rested back against the wall next to me. "I would've included a little more maiming and torching, but I think he just about covered it. But also, quick correction because I'm a stickler for technicalities." I smiled at the twin. "You think Boyd is dead? That's cute. This isn't amateur hour, Lassie."

Ethan was about to say something, but Scott cut him off before he could. "We're talking to you because I know that you didn't want to kill Boyd. And I think that if something like that happened now, you wouldn't try it again."

Ethan shook his head. "You don't know what we owe them, especially Deucalion."

"Deucalion is a certified psychopath who doesn't give a rat's ass about you," I stated simply, folding my arms over my chest. "So if anything, you shouldn't give a rat's ass about him either. Fair's fair."

Ethan continued to look glum, knowing I was right but not able to agree. "We weren't like Kali and Ennis when we met him," he explained. "We weren't alphas."

"What were you?" Scott asked.

"Omegas." He crossed his arms. "In actual wolf packs, omegas are the scapegoat, the last to eat, the one who has to take the abuse from the rest of the pack."

Stiles then spoke up, simplifying his meaning. "So you and your brother were, like, the bitches of the pack?"

"Something like that."

"What happened?" Scott questioned.

"They were killers." Ethan huffed roughly, remembering his time with his old pack. "I mean, people talk about us as monsters. Well, they were the ones who gave us the reputation. And our alpha was the worst of them."

Stiles tilted his head, confused. "Why didn't you guys just fight back? Form Voltron Wolf, you know? Kick everyone's asses?"

"We couldn't," Ethan snapped at the human. "We didn't know how to control it back then."

"Deucalion taught you," Scott realized.

"And then, we fought. We took down the whole pack, one-by-one. And by the time we got to our alpha, he was begging for his life. And we tore him apart. Literally."

"What about your emissary?" I asked. Ethan didn't move which didn't fill me with a lot of hope. "They're all dead? Kali and Ennis' too?"

Ethan nodded. "All of them except for Deucalion's." Unless one survived and you don't know.

Stiles' expression pinched together. "You mean Morrell?"

Before Ethan could respond he winced and gasped, bringing his hand to his chest.

Scott immediately grew concerned, like he always did. "What? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Not me." Ethan shook his head. "My brother." Ethan ran down the steps and we followed all the way to the boy's locker room. Ethan ripped open the door and he and Scott stopped Aiden from slamming a weight against Cora's head.

Stiles and I knelt on either side of Lydia who was leaning over the young Hale. I brought my hand to her head where she bled. She didn't look too good as she tried to rise up onto her hands.

"You can't do this!" Ethan yelled at his brother.

"She came at me!" Aiden growled.

"It doesn't matter! Kali gave Derek until the next full moon. You can't touch him or her." Aiden put his teeth away as he stared down at us, particularly at Lydia.

Cora rolled onto her side with a light gasp. "Cora," I said gently, moving closer. "Stay awake." I looked up at Scott, ignoring Ethan dragging his brother out of the room. "I think she's pretty hurt. We need to get her out of here."

"I'm fine," Cora groaned. "Help me up." I reluctantly helped her sit up then up onto her feet. She swayed a little, and I put my hands on her shoulder to keep her steady. "I'm fine, Sara. I promise." I didn't believe her. Stiles grabbed a small towel and handed it to Cora who shuffled to the sinks and started cleaning off the blood.

"You okay?" Scott asked to make sure.

"She doesn't look okay," Lydia said.

Cora glanced at the redhead through the mirror. "I'll heal." She then took a step back, bringing a hand to her head, and swayed again. I grabbed her arm, but she shook me off. "I said I'm fine."

"Do you realize how suicidally crazy that was?" Stiles asked. "What were you thinking, going after them?"

"I did it for Riichi and Boyd," she answered, looking at the four of us harshly. "None of you were doing anything." My jaw twitched as I held my tongue.

"We're trying," Scott said.

"And you're failing. You're just a bunch of stupid teenagers running around, thinking that you can stop people from getting killed. But all you do is show up late. All you really do is find the bodies." Cora then walked off, leaving us with those depressing words.

"She's definitely a Hale," Stiles muttered. "I'll make sure she gets home." Lydia rubbed the back of her neck as we watched him hurry after Cora.

I ran my tongue over my teeth, glancing up at Scott. "She's not wrong."

Scott went to speak to Morrell one-on-one, and I waited outside the counseling office patiently. For the most part, they had a quiet discussion, but I grew tense when I heard Scott raise his voice at her which barely ever happened. I was being pulled in multiple directions worrying about everyone around me, and it was causing my fox to stir again, wanting to be let free. Gritting my teeth, I took a deep breath. School was the worst place I could be with an agitated fox-spirit.

When Scott left the office, he shut the door behind him and walked with me down the hall. "What'd she say?" I asked, adjusting my bag on my shoulder.

"She said it isn't her. Didn't really think it was anyway."

Something bugged me about what he wasn't saying. "Scott, what else did she say?"

He grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side of the hall, out of the way of bustling students. Leaning closer, he spoke in a lowered voice. "She confirmed Deucalion wants me in his pack, but if he can't have me. . . he'd make a killer out of me." Scott had never looked more disturbed. The thought of killing someone had never sat right with him. Sometimes I wondered why he seemed to be okay with my killing of Gerard since he was so against it. Maybe while he couldn't do it himself, he agreed with why it had to be done. "And if he achieves that, then I can't be a True Alpha."

"If it's any consolation, you couldn't kill anyone," I reassured with a soft smile. "I don't think you have it in you. It's not in your nature. No matter how hard he tries."

"But what about joining him?" he asked quietly. "What if it becomes the only option so no one gets hurt?"

I set a hand on his arm and rubbed it. "You asked me to trust you when you joined Gerard, and I did. I'd do it again. Something tells me he underestimates what you have up your sleeve."

A scream rippled throughout the school. "Lydia," Scott muttered. He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the halls to the origin of the loud, piercing scream.

Students and faculty were gathering in and around one of the classrooms. I spotted Ethan hurrying over as well. Scott, Ethan, and I pushed through the students trying to enter the classroom up to the front of the crowd where a security guard held his hand up to keep us from entering. Lydia and Aiden stood inside with Ms. Blake.

"All we know is that Mr. Westover didn't show up for class," Ms. Blake told Lydia.

"And the last time that happened was Mr. Harris," Lydia countered. "Anyone heard from him lately? He's gone." She moved to the board where five circles were drawn interconnected. The number two was drawn in one of the circles. "And he's going to be the second murder."

"But, Lydia, you wrote that number."

"Okay, fine." Lydia took a few steps towards the English teacher. "I'm psychic."

"Oh, my god," I muttered, pinching my nose.

"You're psychic?" Ms. Blake repeated.

"I'm something!" Lydia blurted, just as Stiles had done earlier. Faculty members glanced over at the frantic girl.

"A deputy and a teacher?" Ethan asked Scott and me. "What's the pattern?"

Scott answered, "I don't know."

Stiles texted us philosophers and guardians as the other categories, but with a teacher and a police officer being the options, we couldn't quite figure out which one the Darach was working on because they could fight either. Until Allison texted Scott that they, being her, Isaac, and Chris, had found Mr. Westover. We settled on philosophers as the next category, deciding that the deputy had to have been a teacher of some kind as well since Mr. Harris and the music teacher had been both teachers and warriors.

Stiles had also texted us saying Cora had passed out and started bleeding from her head again which didn't fill me with optimism. Not like I had been in the first place.

I ran my hand through my hair roughly as Scott called Stiles while we stood in one of the outdoor halls of the school. "It's philosophers as in teachers," Scott told him. "Allison and her father just found Mr. Westover." And Isaac.

"That makes sense," Stiles said through the speaker. "Tara, she wasn't always a cop. She used to teach middle school."

"Then the last one's gonna be another teacher," I deducted.

"Yeah, but there's dozens of them, guys, and they're all headed home."

Scott and I turned around, looking at the auditorium doors since we hadn't left yet. Teachers and faculty members were re-entering the school. "No. No, they're not," Scott corrected. "They're all going to the recital."

When Scott hung up his phone, I looked up at Scott. "Just so we're clear, this is why I don't like memorial concerts."

Despite everything, Scott chuckled a little. "Because an evil monster will kill someone at them?"

I shook my head. "No, because they breed continued anguish and depression."

"You're so full of hope and positivity, it's amazing," he replied.

I elbowed him, not liking his voice tinged with sarcasm. "At least pessimism is a source of humor. What do you optimistic types have? I can't laugh at sunshine and rainbows, but you can laugh at the smile on my face when I say I'm dead inside." Against all odds, he did snort, a small smile pulling at his lips. "See, there we go. At least someone appreciates the effort I put into my quips."

"Alright, alright, let's get inside."

Shouldering my bag, I followed Scott down the stairs and to the doors of the auditorium. We didn't grab seats once inside, knowing we might have to run out fast if something happened. Families and students were taking seats, some hugging each other solemnly, some tearing up. The sight of it made me grimace which Scott noticed.

"You're not good with the expression of emotions, are you?" he asked, reminding me of the time he said I had a problem confronting things that weren't anger.

I turned to him, leaning my head to the side. "Is that your way of saying I'm a robot?"

"What? No, no, no," he sputtered. "That's not-not what I meant at all."

My blank expression didn't change. "I'm just giving you shit, Scotty." I then grinned. "You're too easy to mess with sometimes, you adorable, gullible puppy." His attention was drawn elsewhere before he could retort, and he frowned. I donned a mocking expression, the real version of which would be reserved for an actual dog. "What do you see, boy? A squirrel?"

Scott glared at me then gestured to the side of the auditorium where Ethan and Aiden were talking. "Something seems off with them." Lydia then walked up to my other side and we looked at her wide-eyed expression. "I thought you were going home."

"I can't," she muttered. "I don't know why I am the one that keeps finding the bodies, but maybe if I just stopped trying to fight it, I'd find them before it happens, maybe with enough time for someone like you to do something about it."

"You get me the time, and I'll do something about it. I swear to God, I will." Scott's determination never ceased to amaze me. I wondered if it ever would.

The three of us stayed at the back of the auditorium as the recital started. Shortly after, the doors opened, and we turned to see Chris, Allison, and Isaac walk in. Isaac eyed us before following after the two hunters. I frowned at that. Why is he following them? I knew Scott had sent Isaac to check in on Allison, but there was very little reason for him to have still been with them and continue to go with them. I had an uncomfortable pit form in my stomach.

Over time, the orchestra grew more somber, and Stiles joined Scott, Lydia, and I. Or at least we thought Lydia was with us. Upon further inspection, we didn't see Lydia in the auditorium at all which was bad news for us. The three of us hurried out of the auditorium.

"Lydia?" Stiles called out as we left the building.

"Lydia!" Scott shouted. He shifted his eyes to search our surroundings.

"Anything?" Stiles asked, holding out his phone. "She's not answering texts."

"She couldn't have gotten far," I said. "She hasn't been gone very long. What do we do?" Scott didn't reply as Stiles and I looked to him for an answer. "Scott?"

"Search the school," he answered. "She has to be here." Before we could start our search, Scott brought his hands to his ears and grunted in pain.

"Scott, are you okay?" I asked as he knelt. He didn't reply, continuing to clutch his ears.

When the pain stopped and he stood, he turned to Stiles and I who stared at him with concern. "She just screamed. Come on!" The three of us ran, Scott and I tearing ahead of the trailing human.

We entered a classroom right as Ms. Blake threw a knife at Sheriff Stilinski. Scott shifted and growled, and my eyes turned orange while I snarled and dropped my bag. I knew something seemed off about the perky English teacher.

Scott ran forward first, slashing at her with his claw, but she shoved him back, his body flying across the room and hitting stacked desks. Fire sprouted from my hands and I sent a surge of fire towards her. Ms. Blake dodged the flames and it hit the window. When she straightened, I was upon her, sending a fist towards her face. It did nothing once it contacted, and she hit me back, my jaw breaking and my body hitting the floor beside her.

"You'll have to have more than one tail, puny kitsune," she remarked. Ms. Blake then moved the desk with one push, shutting the classroom door before Stiles could enter.

Noah picked up his gun and pointed it at Ms. Blake. With her occupied, I crawled over to Lydia who was duct-taped to a chair while listening to Noah talk, my jaw healed, and I ignored the taste of blood in my mouth.

"There was a girl. Years ago, we found her in the woods, her face and body slashed apart," the sheriff recounted. I began undoing Lydia's bound wrists. Lydia didn't seem to notice, completely out of it and her neck red. "That was you, wasn't it?"

"Maybe I should've started with philosophers, with knowledge and strategy," Ms. Blake said, walking towards him. Noah lowered the gun and shot her in the thigh. Our English teacher winced and looked down, but she quickly righted herself. "Healers. . ." Moving forward, Ms. Blake picked Noah up by the knife in his shoulder. Noah dropped the gun, screaming in agony, and she shoved him against stacked chairs. "Warriors. . ." She tore Noah's badge from his chest and crushed it. "Guardians. . ." The badge hit the ground with a quiet clang.

With Lydia's wrists undone, I stood up. "Hey, Scarface. I'm not done with you yet."

Ms. Blake didn't seem fazed as she looked back at me. "Throw a fireball and it'll hit Stilinski. I'm sure he'd love to be set on fire. Why don't you focus on helping your own mother instead of your friend's father?" My mother?

I froze and blinked, giving her the perfect opportunity to rip the knife from Noah's shoulder and throw it towards me, capitalizing on my hesitation. The knife embedded itself into the center of my chest. At first, I felt no pain, just an odd pressure until I took in a breath. I collapsed onto my knees, whimpering as I set a hand around the wound, trying not to panic or cry out.

The window shattered and Stiles was able to move the desk enough to get inside the classroom. He stared at the broken window as a bleeding Scott knelt next to me.

"Dad?" I heard Stiles say quietly. Ms. Blake, the Darach, was gone. And with her went Noah Stilinski. We failed, again.

I coughed up a mouthful of blood and whimpered again. Scott put his hand on top of mine that rested around the wound. "I'm going to pull it out, okay?" he said quietly.

I nodded and he wrapped his other hand on the hilt of the knife. Groaning at the added pressure, the pain then seemed to dissipate. I looked down to see black veins inching up Scott's arm as he pulled the knife out in one swift motion.

Scott grunted, trying not to react to the pain he was taking from me, as he dropped the knife onto the floor. I gripped his wrist, dragging it away from my hand on my chest. "I'm alright, Scott. You don't have to. I can feel it healing. Just give me a minute, please."