I can't control myself, don't know who I've been

And who is this monster wearing my skin?

A movie in black and white. When will it end?

'Cause every time I scream no one hears me

Paralysed – Against The Current


"Scott, do you know how many people I deal with in a day?" Melissa McCall asked her son seriously, already sounding exhausted. The Sheriff frowned at the phone, not even bothering to kick my feet off of where they we resting on the edge of his desk, my chair leaning precariously on two legs.

I was glad that I'd convinced Stiles to take me home so I could change into more comfortable clothes than that damn dress. I felt more prepared for anything now that I was in my leather jeans, flat boots and an old football sweater.

"This one's sixteen. He's got dark hair, looks like a normal teenager," Scott listed desperately, clinging to the hope that she remembered him.

"He looks evil!" Stiles added, making the sheriff roll his eyes.

"Scott, I already talked to the police about this."

He muttered his reply before taking a picture and sending it to her with the magic of modern technology. "Did you get it?" he asked eagerly.

"Yeah," she responded.

"Do you recognise him? Do you remember him?"

"Yeah, I did. I remember I stopped him because he was tracking mud in the hall. Scott, what's going on?"

He mumbled a promise to explain later, hanging up the phone and turning to Stiles' father expectantly. "We've got shoe prints alongside the tyre tracks at the trailer sight," he said, rifling through the files in front of him.

"If they match that puts Matt at the scene of three murders," Stiles interjected. "The trailer, the hospital and the rave."

I removed my legs from the desk without prompting, tugging the chair I was in closer so I could peer over the desk at their findings. "Actually, four," the Sheriff said. "A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt at the garage where the mechanic was killed. A couple hours before you got there."

"Alright dad. If one's an incident, two's a coincidence and three's a pattern, what's four?"

"Four's enough for a warrant." We all ignored Stiles as he pumped his fist in the air in triumph. "Scott, call your mom back, see how quick she can get here, if I can get an official ID I can get a search warrant. Stiles, go to the front desk, tell them to let Scott's mom in when she gets here."

"On it," the kid said, jumping at the task and scurrying from the room.

"Juliet," he began once Stiles had disappeared out the door and Scott had spoken to his mother. "Maybe you should sit this one out. Go home, get some rest. We'll keep you in the loop if anything happens."

I hesitated, how did I politely say that I wasn't fucking going anywhere. "With all due respect-"

"We need her," Scott interrupted, staring at the the older man with wide, puppy-dog eyes.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Trust me, we just do."

"What are you-"

My arm snapped out to grasp him by the elbow, shocking him enough to silence him. He looked at me in surprise, Scott cocking his head wearily. "What is it?" he asked me worriedly, seeing the alarm spread across my face.

The strong scent was floating through the door that Stiles had left open, making my gums ache and my eyes sting. I suddenly wished it hadn't been so long since I last fed.

"Blood," was all I said, but it was enough.

Stilinski looked confused, but mine and Scott's attention instantly snapped to where we heard footsteps heading for the room we were in. My throat closed up as I spotted Matt standing there, a gun pointed at Stiles' head as he herded him through the door. I didn't dare move, too worried he'd pull the trigger if he noticed.

Sure, I was fast, but I wasn't faster than a speeding bullet.

Thankfully Stiles went straight to my side, and I exhaled with relief as his hand wrapped around mine, fingers intertwining together. His hand was sweating, but I didn't care in the slightest.

"Matt?" the sheriff said cautiously, hands held out placatingly in front of him. "It's Matt, right? Matt, whatever's going on I guarantee there's a solution that doesn't involve a gun."

"You know it's funny you say that because I don't think you're aware of just how right you are," Matt replied condescendingly, gun steady in his hand. I heard the sound of Scott stealthily pressing buttons on his phone, clearly trying to alert someone about our situation.

"I know you don't want to hurt people."

"Actually I want to hurt a lot of people," he corrected with a carefree smile, and for a split second he reminded me of myself only a year ago. "You four weren't on my list, but I can be persuaded, and one way is to try dialling somebody on your cellphone like McCall is doing." Stiles' grip on my hand tightened as he glanced over his shoulder at his best friend, who squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. "That could definitely get someone hurt. Everyone," he commanded, gesturing to the desk with the gun. "Now!"

"Come on," Stilinski urged gently, and we all dug our phones out, dropping them on the desk defeatedly.

Matt glanced away for a moment, and I knew I had an opening, I could attack him. I wouldn't be faster than the bullet, but as long as I was the one he shot then nobody would get hurt. But what if he aimed for Stiles, or Scott? Stiles seemed to sense what I was trying to do, and immediately tugged me back beside him, shaking his head softly.

I ignored him, my expression falling flat and my pupils dilating. "Matt," I said hypnotically, and he glanced at me. "Matt, put the gun down," I compelled him, and a second later he was stepping closer, the click of the safety being turned off echoing through the room. My eyes darted to the band around his wrist, and I instantly knew that Allison must have given him one out of the batch Stiles supplied.

"You think you can bat your pretty green eyes and I'm going to do whatever you say?" he asked, tone holding a dangerous bite.

A sour smile twitched on my lips. "It was worth a try," I told him gently, hoping he'd let it go.

He returned my off smirk. "First things first, let's put the sheriff in his cuffs," he commanded, gesturing again with his gun for us to lead the way through the station. I refused to let go of Stiles' hand, using it to force him in front of me, so I was the one closest to the end of Matt's gun. The gunman swiped a pair of cuffs off a desk on the way, shoving them into Stiles' free hand the moment we were in the lock up area.

The short haired goofball made to pull away, but against my chest clenched with pure fear. I didn't want him away from me for even a second, the closer I was, the quicker I could move him out of the way of a bullet.

"Jules," he said softly, looking down into my eyes. Brown met green and I knew cooperating was the best bet to keep us all safe.

Reluctantly, very reluctantly, I let go of his hand, his smooth skin slipping against mine as he moved over to his dad.

"Tighter," Matt instructed when Stiles loosely secured the cuffs onto his dad's wrist.

"Do what he says," the sheriff said with a reassuring nod, and with a scowl Stiles complied, tightening the metal cuff so it was tight as a band around his wrist. The moment he was finished Matt forced him away from his father, pulling him back in front of him. I connected our hands again the second he was close enough. Even though I wasn't afraid (except maybe afraid for Stiles and Scott), I found comfort in the skin to skin contact. It reminded me that he was right beside me, and, for now at least, safe.

The smell of blood flooded my nostrils as we turned a corner, and immediately I stopped breathing, using all my concentration to resist the urge to feed. Stiles noticed me tense up, and his thumb brushed soothing circles onto the back of my hand, even though he didn't know what was wrong. I wondered if he'd be so quick to comfort me if he knew I was struggling not to chew on someone's neck.

"What, are you going to kill everyone in here?!" Scott exclaimed as we past a hallway, dead, bloodied bodies littering the floor.

"No, that's what Jackson's for."

At the sight of the blood the veins under my eyes became apparent, and I angled my head downwards so nobody saw.

Ordinarily a vampire my age would easily be able to control the bloodlust, but having been on a diet, my body reacted violently to exposed blood, giving me little choice in how I reacted.

"I just think about killing them," Matt continued calmly, a smug little smirk on his pale lips. "And he does it."

"So what are you doing, Matt?" Scott asked as the gun pressed to my back, forcing us further down the hall, away from the allure of the spilled blood. "What's the point?"

"You're going to destroy the evidence against me," he said simple, shoving us into the office we'd just vacated and grabbing my arm, hauling me away from the others. "And if you don't, I'll shoot her in the head," he said with that repulsive smirk, sitting down in a chair and placing me in his lap.

Stiles was trembling, and Scott looked fearful. They probably weren't sure whether that was something I could recover from. I wished I had some way of telling them it was alright. I could have attacked him then, but if he had shot me, one of two things would happen: if he managed to hit the right spot in my brain, I would be rendered unconscious and therefore unable to protect my friends or, if he missed anything majorly important, then nothing would happen and my secret would be out. And on top of that there was a tiny chance, however small, that he could have wooden bullets, one shot aimed at my heart and it was game over.

I contemplated snapping his neck, I would have been able to do it before he pulled the trigger, but I couldn't stand the thought of Stiles seeing me take a human life. I'd left that life behind me, and the last thing I wanted to do was jump headfirst back into it.

No, Matt's death would only come at my hands if the boys' lives were under serious threat. We had to do as he said, stay on his good side, because we were a mere thought away from an encounter with the kanima. For now, I was fairly certain he wouldn't kill any of us. So I'd just wait it out, even though I loathed to do so.

"Alright, it's deleted and we're done," Stiles muttered angrily, pressing some buttons on the keyboard before glancing up at me with worry, having completed his task in the time I'd been mulling over my options. "So, Matt, since all the people you've brutally murdered deserved it because they killed you first – whatever that means – we're good here right? You'll just let Juliet go, we'll get my dad and we'll go and you can just continue on the whole vengeance thing. Enjoy the kanima."

He was silent, but before we could hear his answer headlights beamed in through the window, making all of us turn our heads to the interruption. "Sounds like your mom's here, McCall," Matt drawled.

"Matt, don't do this," Scott begged. "When she comes to the door, I'll just tell her to leave. I'll tell her we didn't find anything. Please Matt."

"If you don't move, now, I'm gonna kill Juliet first, then Stiles, and then your mom," he responded, and though I wasn't looking I could hear the smirk in his voice. It was quiet for a beat, then the bell above the main entrance chimed, signalling the arrival of his mother. "Open it," he ordered harshly.

"Please," Scott begged brokenly.

"Open. The. Door."

Extremely reluctantly, Scott turned the handle, opening it to reveal Derek, staring dead ahead, a blank look in his eyes. I immediately knew something was wrong. "Oh thank God," an oblivious Scott breathed in relief.

Derek fell to the floor, revealing a half scaly Jackson standing behind him, eyes yellow and reptilian.

"This is the one controlling him?" Derek asked from his place paralysed on the ground. "This kid?"

"I know," I drawled, eyeing the guy holding the gun with distaste. "Anti-climatic, isn't it?"

"Well Derek, not everyone's lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf," he sneered, ignoring my comment. "Oh yeah, that's right! I've learned a few things lately. Werewolves, vampires, hunters, kanimas. It's like a freaking halloween party every full moon. Except for you, Stiles. What do you turn into?"

"Abominable snowman," he retorted smartly. "But it's more of like a winter time thing, you know, seasonal."

"Hm," Matt hummed, faking interest. "Must be hard, being human and having an immortal, bloodthirsty, masochistic vampire girlfriend," he said, smirking broadly. "You know she's using you, right? You know they can't actually feel love? Her heart doesn't even beat-"

"Shut the hell-" Stiles began to interrupt him, only for Jackson's hand to snap out, claws scratching the back of his neck, instantly paralysing him. He wobbled for a moment before falling uselessly to the floor, collapsing on top on Derek who glowered at the roof.

I reacted instantly, fangs slipping free as I snarled at Jackson in warning. He merely held up a hand, a silent warning not to do anything stupid.

"Get him off of me," Derek grumbled sourly from the ground.

"Oh, I don't know Derek, I think you two make a pretty good pair," Matt commented, clearly enjoying the whole thing. Usually I was the antagonist. It wasn't so fun being on the other side of things. "It must kinda suck though, to have all that power taken away from you with a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you're not used to feeling this helpless."

The alpha mumbled something about his teeth, flashing them for extra effect, but the unstable kid wasn't in the mood, he opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by another set of headlights shining through the windows.

"Is that her?" he asked with a sickening smirk. "Do what I tell you to and I won't hurt her. I won't even let Jackson near her."

"Don't trust him!" Stiles yelled from his position on top of Derek.

Matt snapped, reaching down and grabbing the back of Stiles' shirt, ripping him from Derek and throwing him down on the hard floor, pressing a foot to his neck. I snarled again, hand snapping out and striking the bastard across the face. His head snapped to the side, and suddenly Jackson was on top of me, one arm around my neck, the other pressed to the skin of my neck.

"I know the venom won't paralyse you, but I've heard it will slow your healing process," he said, and on some silent command Jackson sliced through the skin covering the top of my spine. It stung, and I felt a drop of blood roll down my back. "Now back off, or a bullet goes in your brain. I'd like to see you spit it out without your healing abilities."

"Stop!" Scott hissed as he brandished the gun at my head. "Stop. I'll do what you want, just stop."

"Good," Matt said, seeming satisfied. "You," he said, barely glancing at the kanima. "Take them in there. You," he continued, gesturing to Scott. "With me."

Jackson bent down to pick up Stiles, but I wasn't having any of it. I grabbed his wrist, hissing at him warningly. " Don't you touch him," I growled, and he hesitated, glancing at his master for direction. Matt considered me for a beat, then nodded slightly, and Jackson backed off. I reached down, hooking my hands under Stiles' arms and gently dragging him into the office. As soon as we were over the threshold, I softy put him down, crouching beside him, pressing a gentle hand to his neck, examining the boot print left behind from a moment earlier.

"Will a bullet in the brain kill you?" he asked worriedly, staring up at me with concerned eyes.

"No," I assured him quietly. "But without my ability to heal, it'll definitely put me out of action for a while." I leaned closer, eyes Jackson wearily where he stood on the other side of the room. "Are you okay?" I whispered to Stiles, my hair falling over the side of his face, giving us the illusion of privacy.

"Apart from the paralysis, you mean?" he asked with a grimace before pasting on a brave expression. He noticed my serious face and winced, attempting to nod but not having much luck. "I'm alright. Or, I will be, once this Goddamn night is over."

"Yeah," I mumbled, "I know what you mean."

There was the deafening bang of a gun from a room over and Stiles' eyes widened in fear.

I cocked my head to the side, listening intently to what was happening on the other side of the wall. "Scott's been shot," I told him hesitantly. "He's okay," I reassured him when his heartbeat skyrocketed. "He'll heal."

He swallowed thickly, struggling to make his muscles cooperate. "And his mom?"

"She's fine," I confirmed, watching him exhale in relief.

There was a hissing noise from the corner, and I glanced up to see Jackson with his lip pulled back over his teeth, slitted eyes fixed on me. My own upper lip curled and I let out an animalistic snarl, flashing my razor sharp fangs.

We were quiet, I continued to glower warningly at the kanima, while Stiles concentrated on breathing and Derek glared at the roof irritatedly.

After a few minutes that seemed to take forever to pass, Scott stumbled into the room, Matt holding a gun to his chest. He was bleeding from the side, and I winced. It wouldn't kill him but it was probably painful.

"The evidence is gone," the wolf said desperately. "Why don't you just go?"

"You think the evidence matters that much, huh? No, I want the book!" the gunman replied tightly, barely sparing us a glance.

"What?" Scott asked confusedly. "What book?"

"The bestiary!" he snapped like the wolf was stupid, and the two paralysed men on the floor shot each other side glances. "Not just a few pages, I want the entire thing."

"I don't have it. It's Gerard's. What do you need it for anyway?"

"I need answers."

"Answers to what?"

There was a pause, then Matt turned to the side, lifting his shirt and exposing his side. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but what I found definitely wasn't it. Scales, just like those of the kanima, were climbing his abdomen, the human skin giving way to something decidedly more reptilian. "To this."


"How much time do you think he has?" I whispered to Derek, leaning over Stiles so I was closer and nobody would be able to overhear, bar the present members of the supernatural, of course.

"Not long," he mumbled back, green eyes a few shades lighter than mine flickering to me before returning to the ceiling. "Not at the rate he's going."

"You two know what's happening to him?" Stiles hissed quietly, and I sat back on my legs, letting Derek explain this one as I kept a careful eye on Jackson in his half-turned state. "So if Matt breaks the rules of the kanima, he becomes the kanima," he said after a moment, eyes flying around the room, heart rate slower than usual thanks to the paralysis.

"Balance must be kept," I muttered to him softly, hand absentmindedly moving to his chest, calmed by the heavy beat of his heart under my hand.

"Will he believe us if we tell him that?"

"Not likely."

"He's going to kill all of us when he gets that book, isn't he?"

"Yup."

"Alright, so what do we do? Just sit here and wait to die?"

"Unless I can figure out a way to push the toxin out of my body fast enough. Like triggering the healing process," Derek replied under his breath. "It'll take time," he continued, glancing at me again. "You need to do something."

"And what, get shot for my trouble?" I hissed back. "You can't afford me out of action with a bullet in my brain."

"Well someone has to-"

"You!" Matt shouted, grasping under my arm and hauling me to my feet. With a grunt I let him manhandle me, aiding him by pushing myself to my feet. "What are you whispering about? Not planning to try and be a hero are you?"

"Of course not," I bit back with a saccharine smile.

He merely glared, stepping closer and pressing the gun to my temple. "Good, because even if you did manage to get the gun from me before I pull the trigger, the kanima will still kill Stiles the second I think it."

I grit my teeth, nodding placatingly, "noted."

His lips twitched up into a bitter smile, and he roughly threw me back onto Stiles. I let myself be pushed simply to appease him, collapsing beside Stiles, my hands braced on his stomach. With a motion of his gun, Matt was ushering a still bleeding Scott from the room. Stiles stared after his friend worriedly, but was quickly distracted by me.

"I could get you out of here," I told him seriously.

His eyes widened. "What?" he asked breathlessly.

"I could take you and run," I whispered, ignoring the sour look that Derek shot me. "I'm just as fast as the kanima, if not faster. I can get you to safety."

His eyes narrowed. "If you think I'm letting you do that, you've obviously inhaled too many vervain fumes or something," he retorted, looking entirely unimpressed with my suggestion.

I wanted to argue, but I was distracted by the story that Matt was relaying dramatically to Scott. Stiles hissed at me in question, wondering what had captured my attention. With a frown I told him what I could hear, watching as he struggled to wince.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked when I paused for a breath.

Before I could answer, the lights flicked off, plunging us into darkness. Stiles panicked, but my eyes cut through the shadows easily, flickering around to room for any hint of a threat.

There was a loud banging in the main room where Scott and Matt were, and Stiles winced as the deafening sound of guns being fired hit his eardrums. "What the hell-?"

"The Argents have arrived," I muttered with an annoyed scowl. "Stay down."

A stream of bullets suddenly shot through the glass to the right, and I flattened myself to the floor, avoiding getting one in the brain. My palm was braced on Stiles chest, though I was careful not to let him take any of my weight. Derek grunted from the beside him and I peered over, narrowing my eyes as I took in the sight of the werewolf's leg twitching.

Smoke began to float into the room as Derek met my eyes, nodding his head minutely.

Scott appeared out of the smoke, crouching down beside me over Stiles. "Take him," he instructed Derek, gesturing his head before bending down to collect Stiles.

"I've got him," I argued, wrapping an arm around his waist and heaving him to his feet with ease. He was deadweight, but that wasn't a problem; he was still light as a feather. He grunted as I dragged him through the door, Scott trailing close behind us, slamming doors in Jackson's face that he simply kicked down as though they were nothing.

I glanced at the door, again struck with the knowledge that I could take him and run, get Stiles to safety then come back to help the wolves.

"Don't you dare," he breathed sternly in my ear, apparently knowing my thoughts. Sometimes it was scary how well he knew me.

"Put him down," Scott instructed me as we slipped into a room. I scowled as I realised that the door we'd come in was the only exit, it made me feel trapped. Nonetheless I followed the beta's command, gently lowering Stiles into a chair leaned up against the wall. "Don't move." The paralysed teen shot his best friend an irritated glare. "You know what I mean." He patted him on the shoulder, spinning around and staring at the door. After a minute passed and Jackson still hadn't come smashing through the wood, he decided to venture out into the war zone. "Stay with Stiles."

I was torn. I knew that Stiles without a doubt needed the protection, but there was no way I could be expected to sit idly by, cowering in a corner over a helpless Stiles like some kind of bloody guard dog. I opened my mouth to retort, but Stiles coughed loudly, drawing my immediate attention. I stared down at him, his head hanging off the back of the chair, unable to hold it up himself.

I couldn't leave him if I tried.

"If anything happens, I can be there in seconds," I told him, and with a final nod he disappeared out the door, silently shutting it behind him.

"I'm fine, you know," Stiles spoke up after a minute, the only sounds filling the room the occasional gunfire from outside and the sounds of the humans struggling in the holding cell that only I could hear. I raised an eyebrow at him, glancing pointedly at his paralysed body. "Aside from the paralysis, I mean," he said, rolling his eyes exasperatedly. "You don't need to babysit me."

"Well you can't exactly stop me, can you?" I replied tightly, hands clenching into fists as I heard a shout of pain from down the corridor.

"Oh, nice, pick on the disabled guy," he retorted. "Real classy."

"Stop talking."

"Excuse me? I don't-"

My hand slapped over his lips, and his eyes widened at the touch, staring up at me like I'd just told him I'd found the cure for vampirism. His lips were pursed against my skin, and although my attention was needed elsewhere, it made it hard to concentrate.

Down the hall I could hear Scott talking in low, desperate tones with his tortured sounding girlfriend. "Allison," I murmured, ignoring Stiles' worried look. I removed my hand from Stiles' face only to lean down so I could whisper to him. "I have to go," I told him under my breath. "Can you feel this?" I asked, reaching down and pinching his thigh.

He winced, glaring up at me irritatedly, "Yes."

"Good," I nodded. "That means you're getting feeling back. As soon as you can, get out of here."

"I'm not leaving you!"

"I just mean get out of this room," I hissed back, ignoring the implications of his words. "There's only one exit, get somewhere with another escape route, and weapons if at all possible. Stay low and try not to make as much noise as usual."

There was a yell from outside the room, and I cast one more glanced down at the helpless kid in front of me, trying to smile (though it appeared more of a grimace, I'm sure) before slipping out into the fray, nose wrinkling in distaste as I inhaled a lungful of what appeared to be teargas.

My eyes stung but I was otherwise unaffected, darting through the smoke and heading in the direction I'd heard Allison and Scott arguing. I heard soft breaths coming from around the corner, and even though I couldn't smell her through the gas, I was sure it was Allison.

I stepped into her line of sight, blinking in surprise as I was met with the tip of an arrow that had been loaded into a crossbow. I raised my eyebrows, looking from the razor sharp metal tip to the screaming eyes of the raven haired human. When she didn't immediately lower it once she knew it was me, I became concerned. "Allison," I said gently, frowning when she flinched.

"Get out of my way," she warned me in a lethal tone.

"So you can do what?" I asked deliberately. "You're not after the kanima – you know that little thing's not gonna make even a dent in it's slimy skin – so who are you here for?"

"Get out of my way," she repeated.

"Or what?" I asked. "You'll shoot me?"

"Yes."

It wasn't wood, and even if it were it wouldn't bother me. An arrow launched from a crossbow wouldn't be fast enough to best me. Still, it stung a little to have something aimed at my chest by someone I considered a friend.

"Your parents and I have an agreement, you see," I said carefully, eyes meeting her teary chocolate pools. "I'm not to be touched. And I don't take well to threats."

She may have been a friend, one I cared about more than I'd ever admit, but that wasn't enough to change my outlook on being threatened by humans. "Well I guess that agreement's under revision since my mother's no longer alive," she spat, as though I was the cause of the woman's death.

I grimaced in sympathy, moving to step closer, only to have her lift the crossbow once more, a silent warning not to come any closer. "Okay, so you're hurting," I replied, hands held out placatingly. "I understand."

"You don't understand anything," she seethed, pale pink lip curling back. "Get out of my way."

I wasn't about to let the emotionally unstable hunter anywhere near Stiles with a loaded crossbow. "No," I said simply.

I heard the trigger click, and in the next moment I had my fingers curled around the tail of the arrow, snatching it easily from the air and glaring stonily at Allison.

"That wasn't nice," I growled, furious that she'd dared to attack me. Before I could react, a loud shout echoed through the halls.

"Jules!" Stiles voice yelled desperately, and in an instant I'd disappeared from her side, slipping back into the smoke and making my way to where Stiles' shout had come from.

"Stiles?" I asked in a panic, appearing beside him, frowning as I realised he crawled into the holding room from where I'd left him. He didn't reply verbally, instead using a shaky hand to point to where Matt stood, gun brandished at us. "Stay down," I hissed to my favourite friend, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

Slowly and deliberately I slid to my feet, pulling back my lip and revealing glistening fangs, blood flooding to my eyes. I ignored the shocked and terrified gasp that came from Scott's mom, instead focusing on Matt, watching the crazy guy's every move. There was another growl from beside me, and I felt more than saw Derek slip into the room, also transformed, eyes glowing alpha red.

I felt slightly better knowing I had backup, even if it was my least favourite puppy. There was a familiar reptilian snarl from my right, and I reluctantly pulled my gaze from Matt. "God dammit," I grunted a split second before the kanima slammed into my side. Stiles yelled in worry, but I didn't have a second to spare, instead focusing on slamming my knee into Jackson's scaly abdomen and trying to get my hands around his neck for leverage.

Derek joined me a moment later, growling threateningly as he shoved the lizard off of me, landing a fist to it's angled cheek.

I took a split second to breathe before diving back into the fight. Derek had slammed it into a desk to the side, throwing punches and blocking scratches. It shoved the alpha off itself with embarrassing ease, leaping back to it's feet. With a grunt I jumped on it, thighs wrapping around it's head and using my momentum to throw it to the floor. It screeched in pain, but I barely had time to feel smug that I'd hurt it before it's claws scraped desperately at my face, tearing the flesh.

It stung like a bitch, and I flew off it's body, pressing a hand to my torn, bloody skin.

"Juliet," Stiles coughed, staring at me with wide, worried eyes. I held my face together with a hand, scowling when I remembered that I had the kanima's venom in my system, thus rendering my healing processes practically useless. I glanced at Stiles again, and he looked positively green at the sight of the gashes on my cheek.

My eyes blurred as blood trickled over my knuckles. I growled, struggling to push myself to my feet. I couldn't help but give a lethargic blink, and when I opened my eyes, a transformed Scott was standing in the middle of the room, staring at his crying mother who watched on in horror.

Great. Just what we needed.

A/N: I have a question for you all: some physical things are going to start to happen between a certain pair of characters, and I wanted to know if you guys would be into having that sort of thing written out in detail (meaning I would have to change the rating to M) or just glossed over in a very PG13 kind of way? Let me know your opinions soon!