Weak and wide eyed my pride is swallowed
I'm beggin' for my hearts last beat
And I'm repaying all the time I've borrowed
So forever the sorrow song I sing
Scriptures singin' man I can't seem to find my way back home
It's been a hundred years I've no idea which direction to go
This is my song of sorrow
Song of Sorrow – Elle King
"Stiles, open the door."
My boyfriend jumped a foot in the air, gasping as he held a hand to his chest. I sent him a flat but hopefully reassuring smile over Scott's shoulder, absentmindedly twirling the metal pole – I'd ripped it off of a gurney on the way down to the basement – around in my hand. Hopefully it would prove to be a useful weapon.
I glanced over my shoulder when I heard a sound behind me, but quickly realised it was just a stray cat, seeking shelter from the storm.
"Where's Derek and Jennifer?" Stiles questioned the moment Peter was inside the ambulance, sitting down and resting his head against the side.
"I have to go back for them, and my mom," Scott responded tiredly.
"Okay, two problems: Kali's got the keys to this thing and I just saw the twins like thirty seconds ago."
I tilted my head back, sniffing quietly and grimacing at the stench of wet and bloody dog. I also picked up the alluring scent of human blood, and I glanced over Stiles worriedly, checking for wounds. When I saw it wasn't his, I glanced to the left, spotting a dead man laying in a pool of his own blood.
"Stay here," Scott instructed Stiles, turning to leave. Without a second thought I followed him, turning around and heading in the direction he was leaving in.
"Wait! Jules! Where are you going?" Stiles protested, concern in his voice. Scott paused briefly.
"With Scott," I said obviously, hooking my new weapon over my shoulder and cocking my head at him impatiently.
"But – what if they come back?" he asked, tone hushed but distressed.
"Peter's not completely useless," I told him reassuringly.
"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," Peter muttered from inside the ambulance, but none of us paid him any attention.
"You'll be okay," I continued like he hadn't spoken, stepping closer to Stiles and pressing my free hand to his cheek.
"Jules, we have to go," Scott prompted, glancing over his shoulder anxiously.
"I'll see you soon," I told Stiles, darting forwards to brush my lips over his chastely before pulling back and grinning at him as best as I could with my shattered cheek. "Be smart, stay safe."
"You too," he told me with a nervous swallow before I turned and followed after Scott, slipping out of the chilly basement and wandering through the halls.
We were silent as we made our way up a floor, my hand clenching my weapon so tightly I was worried I'd leave indents in the metal. "So do you have a plan or...?" I asked the wolf quietly, footsteps silent on the linoleum floor.
"This is the plan," he murmured back, gesturing to what we were doing; roaming the halls with no real purpose.
I nodded, clicking my tongue idly as my eyes scanned the shadows for any hint of a threat. "I don't like this plan," I commented, and he sighed tiredly. "Whelp, you're the boss," I muttered, sounding sarcastic but really being completely serious.
Before he could say anything back, there was a loud clanging sound from the somewhere down the hall, and we both froze, instantly on high alert. Suddenly my sensitive ears picked up on the sound of muted footfalls on the hard ground. I groaned, not bothering to keep quiet.
"We have incoming," I uttered to Scott, who glanced up in alarm. I faced the door, holding out my new toy like a bat, preparing to swing. Scott gasped when the combined twins flew out from the doorway, right into the other end of my steel rod. I heard a crack, so I did some damage, and the pole must have been strong, because there was naught but a small dent in the metal.
I hummed appreciatively as I glanced down at the makeshift weapon, but a moment later the twins recovered and swung at me again.
"Shit," I cussed, ducking the hit only for them to immediately turn on Scott, grasping him by the lapels and throwing him roughly into the wall. The teen wolf groaned in pain, head slamming against the tiles on the surface.
"Where is she?!" the twins roared in Scott's face furiously.
"Pick on someone your own size," I shouted at them ironically (considering about three of me could fit into their combined body) dropping my rod and tackling them from the side. They didn't knock over like I'd hoped, but they did let go of Scott, who dropped to the floor, sucking in air like a man who was drowning.
They threw me off with a well aimed kick and I yelped as I slid across the floor, glancing back up to see Scott once again in their creepy, combined hands. "We're trying not to hurt you!" they insisted loudly, like they were doing us some kind of fucking favour.
"Try harder," Scott chocked, their fingers wrapped around his throat, squeezing it like it was nothing.
"Fucking assholes," I hissed, moving too fast for them to see as I leapt onto their back, letting my fangs slip free and sinking the incredibly sharp teeth into their neck. Their blood wasn't that appetising, I could drink it if I had to, but the last thing I wanted was any part of their being inside of me, so I pulled back and roughly spat out the mouthful of blood. It had worked, at least, as they dropped my friend, sending him to the ground, sucking in air.
"Hey!" I'd been so distracted by my task that I hadn't noticed someone coming up behind us. I let go of the beast, slipping down to Scott's level and laying a hand on his shoulder, making sure he was okay as his mother shouted at the twins. "I'd like to try something!"
Before I could process what was happening there was the familiar buzz of live electricity, and I saw the painfully bright blue lights as she electrocuted the twins, sending them flying back onto the ground.
Melissa was the most badass human I'd ever met.
"Sweetheart, get up," she instructed Scott, who instantly took her outstretched hand. "Come on Jules," she continued, reaching out for me once her son was standing, "you too." I grabbed her hand, and if she noticed how cold it was, she said nothing. With no more than an offhanded glance at the unconscious twins, she took off in a run, heading down the hall and to the left.
I wasn't sure where we were heading, but I trusted the woman implicitly. And there weren't many people on this earth that I could say that about.
"What happened, mom?" Scott asked once he felt we were far enough away. "How'd you escape?"
"He just let me go; said it was a gesture of good will," she told us as I pushed open a set of double doors, allowing them through while I scanned the shadows for any sign of trouble. "No other reason."
"He had to have a reason, I don't think he does anything without a reason," Scott argued gently, breathing heavily as he fingered his neck, running over the slowly healing bruises left there by the twins.
"Well if that means I should continue to be profoundly terrified then don't worry about that, I've got it covered."
I nearly chuckled, but decided it wasn't the right time.
We froze as we heard sounds coming from the other end of the hall. "Stay with her," Scott all but mouthed to me, and I nodded, one arm curling around Melissa's shoulders, preparing to shield her from an attack.
I relaxed after a beat, catching the familiar scents of Isaac and Allison, but Scott still jumped violently when they met where the halls intersected. "What're you doing here?" he asked, sounding like he wanted to be irritated.
"Where else would we be?" Allison challenged, and even he had to admit that she had a point.
"What's happening?" Chris Argent asked tightly, glancing over at Melissa and me with calculating eyes. I sent him a sarcastic smile, keeping my protective arm around the woman beside me.
"Stiles, Peter and Cora are in an ambulance in the basement, but they're stuck there until we can either get the keys off Kali or get them out some other way," Scott told him, glancing over his shoulder warily as the wind made the windows creak.
"And the Darach and Derek are stuck in an elevator on the third floor," I added quickly, hoping we could move things along.
"Wait–what?" Chris snapped.
"The Darach is our English teacher, Ms Blake," Scott explained hurriedly. Allison and Isaac's eyes widened but they didn't have long to process the news.
"She was an emissary to the alphas and we think they tried to kill her and now she's enacting her revenge," I explained hastily. They still seemed completely bemused. "Okay," I began irritably. "How about we save explanations for the end, and for now we focus on one thing at a time, like getting Derek and Jennifer the hell out of that elevator."
There was a pause and nobody said anything, but I could tell we were in tentative agreement. There was a crash from down the hall, and Melissa jumped, clearly still terrified.
"Let's keep moving," Chris suggested, turning around and leading the way down a hall. "So why're they in the elevator?"
"The alphas have it surrounded, and there's no way they can get out without attracting their attention. For the moment they're safer there than anywhere else," Scott told him as we moved down the hall, pushing our way into an operating room.
"So then, they're essentially trapped?"
"But there's no way of getting them out without turning the power back on," Isaac threw in. I held back any sarcastic comments I longed to make, knowing they wouldn't be well received.
"But wait, if the power's back on then they're gonna hear the elevator moving, right?" Melissa brought up a good point.
"And they'll be on Jennifer and Derek as soon as it stops," said Scott.
"Which we can't let happen," I added, and the Argent looked surprised by my concern.
"We can't get into a fight with them," he continued quickly, snatching their attention back.
"But you've got us now," Chris said, and I rolled my eyes exasperatedly.
"It's too much to risk. They want her dead, and if she dies then there's nothing we can do for Stiles' dad or Cora."
"I don't think I know which teacher this is."
"She's the one with the brown hair; she's kinda hot." We all paused, every one of us turning to look at Isaac incredulously. The kid clicked his tongue awkwardly, averting his eyes uncomfortably. "It's just an observation..."
We were silent, each going back to our thoughts. I continued to eye Isaac, and the kid winced, shrugging helplessly.
"What?" he hissed defensively, and I narrowed my eyes at him in annoyance.
Allison shifted, and my attention drifted to her. "I've got an idea."
"Stiles," I hissed, softly knocking on the ambulance doors. Despite how gentle I was, he still gasped, clutching at his heart like it was going to leap from his chest. Instantly he darted to the doors, undoing the lock and pushing them open. I slipped inside, kneeling down on the floor of the vehicle and grasping Stiles' knees. "Are you all okay?" I asked, though I looked only at my human as I spoke.
"We're fine," he assured me. "What's going on?"
"In a few moments, Isaac is going to drive through those doors," I told him softly, so nobody that wasn't on our side could hear the plan. "When he does we need to get Cora into the car, along with the rest of you, and then you get the hell out of here."
"Isaac? Car? What?"
"Trust me," I insisted, and instantly all the fight left him.
He nodded, and we fell silent. There was a long pause, mostly I just listened to the sounds happening around us, watching for any hint of a threat. "What happened to your face?" Stiles finally asked, probably unable to handle the silence.
"Shattered cheekbone," I informed him distractedly. He brought his hand up to brush his fingers along the bruising, and I flinched back slightly as he touched me, hissing in pain. "It's okay," I assured him when I noticed his worried expression. "I'm full of your blood, so it's healing quickly."
"Not quickly enough," he murmured, but before I could ask what he meant, the sound of a speeding engine met my ears and I reared back, turning to the doors.
"Ready?" I asked him, and he swallowed thickly, nodding his head. I threw open the doors, leaping out and onto the cement, reaching back in to assist Peter in pulling his niece out from the back of the ambulance.
"Let's go! Let's go!" Isaac shouted, and I shot him an irritated look as I cracked open the back of the car, allowing Peter to slip the unconscious teen into the backseat. "Stiles!" he prompted, and I spun around, alarmed when I realised Stiles wasn't getting into the car.
"Stiles?!" I called, growing nervous as he continued to stare.
Without warning, Stiles suddenly took off in the opposite direction, sprinting as fast as he could back into the depths of the hospital.
"For fuck sake," I hissed angrily, slamming my door shut and turning to Isaac. "Go," I insisted sharply. "Get them to safety."
"But-"
"Now, Isaac!"
I turned, pushing my legs as fast as they could go, I caught up to Stiles in no time, just as he was approaching an elevator. My eyebrows rose in surprise when I noticed Derek laying unconscious on the floor of the box, but Stiles merely glanced at the fallen wolf before he kept running.
"Stiles!" I snapped, keeping up with him with ease, jogging as I stayed beside him. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Guardians!" he shouted, eyes teary as he continued to sprint.
"What?"
"Guardians! As in: parents!"
I considered myself fluent in Stiles-speak, and I understood in an instant what he was trying to say. "Melissa," I breathed in fear, eyes widening as I vaguely heard Scott shout for his mother from a few floors above us.
"Go!" Stiles instructed me tightly, shoving me forwards. "Get to Scott!"
"There's no way in hell I'm leaving you alone," I snapped back, even as worry and fear gripped my chest. I didn't want anything to happen to any of my friend's parents, least of all Melissa or John. He seemed annoyed by my choice, but I refused to budge. He wasn't leaving my sight.
A chilling voice met my ears from the floor above us, and I gasped. "What?" Stiles panted, voice layered with terror.
"Deucalion," I murmured, speeding up slightly.
"What's he saying?!" he demanded desperately.
"No time!" I growled. "Faster, Stiles!"
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I shoved my way out into the night and onto the roof. I slid to a stop on the gravel, staring across at Scott and Deucalion with worry and loathing respectively.
"Scott, don't do this, don't go with him," Stiles pleaded the second he realised what was happening.
"I don't know what else to do," the teen wolf responded helplessly.
My chest felt tight and my eyes stung, but I refused to admit the strong emotions coursing through me. "Please, little wolf," I murmured desperately, taking a step forwards as though that would help. "Come along."
"Scott, there's gotta be something else," Stiles tried again when the wolf didn't move. "We always-we always have a plan B."
"Not this time."
Scott turned back to Deucalion, and fear gripped me. "Scott!" Stiles begged.
"I'm gonna find your dad," the wolf assured his best friend. "I promise."
As the rain began to fall, Scott turned and followed Deucalion into the dark, my eyes only able to follow for so long before I lost them in the fog.
Stiles sucked in a sharp breath, and with a glance I saw that he had begun to shake violently. "Stiles," I said gently, hands held out as though it would somehow help. "It's okay," I told him, mostly lying.
"Nothing about this situation is okay!" he shouted, eyes wide and panicked.
Stepping forwards, to grasped his shoulders, turning him to face me and meeting his frenzied gaze. "Stiles, we don't have time for a panic attack," I told him simply.
"What are we meant to do?" he asked helplessly, chest still heaving as he struggled to breathe properly.
"We can start by rousing Derek," I said, tone leaving no room for argument, not wanting to give him the stress of decision making.
He nodded, the action frantic and hurried. "Yeah," he murmured, shaking his head as though to clear it.
"Come on," I prompted him, pressing against his back to urge him forwards. Without a word from me, he began running, sprinting towards the elevators, desperate to do something. I kept up with him easily, watching with a frown as he all but collapsed at an unconscious Derek's side.
I was about to tell him to lightly slap the wolf's face, but suddenly Stiles' palm was reeling back only to slam into Derek's cheek. The werewolf didn't stir. I glanced up at Stiles in surprise and glee, incredibly impressed by his methods. "Derek!" the human shouted at the wolf's closed eyes. "Derek!"
He slapped the wolf again, and I would have laughed had the situation not been so dire. I was about to tell Stiles that I would do it, when the kid changed tactics, balling up his hand and letting to fly towards the slumbering wolf's face.
Derek's eyes snapped open as he caught the younger human's fist before it could collide with his cheek.
"Ah," I hummed, leaning back against the wall of the elevator and crossing my arms over my chest. "Welcome back to the land of the living," I told him offhandedly, and in a very Derek-like move, he ignored me.
"Where is she?" he asked once he'd assessed his surroundings, eyes rolling around in their sockets.
"Jennifer?" Stiles asked, though he already knew. "Gone, with Scott's mom."
"She took her?"
"And if that's not enough of a kick to the balls, Scott left with Deucalion. Okay, so we need to get you out of here, the police are coming right now, and we need to get you out of here," he was talking in circles, but I couldn't blame him after the night he'd had.
I moved forwards, gently nudging a hyperventilating Stiles out of the way and offering my hand down to Derek, who took it without thought, allowing me to tug him into a sitting position. "What about Cora?" he asked the moment he was upright, eyes wide with concern.
"She got away with Peter and Isaac," I told him as I pulled him all the way to his feet. He staggered, unbalanced and probably ill from however he'd been incapacitated, but flinched away from my offer of further help. I snapped my head to the side as I caught the sound of sirens in the distance. "You need to go," I said seriously. "Now."
"Here," Stiles added, digging in his pocket until he pulled out a familiar set of keys. "Take the Jeep."
"What're you two going to do?"
"We're going to hold off the cops," he told the wolf, roughly pushing up the sleeves of his flannel and running a finger along his jaw.
Derek looked like he wanted to argue, but at the last second changed his mind, shaking his head and turning to leave. I waited until the sound of his footsteps had disappeared before I rounded on Stiles. "You ready for this?" he asked me, glancing at the doorway with trepidation.
"Ready to compel dozens of officers into submission?" I smirked, though it fell flat. "Walk in the park."
We stayed were we were, acting surprised and relieved when the police showed up. Stiles spun some brilliant bullshit story about us being stuck in the elevator the entire time. They didn't seem completely convinced, but one glance into my eyes had them persuaded.
I wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay.
As I watched Stiles stare hollowly at the far wall, that was all I could think. But could I say it? Hadn't I promised myself before that I wouldn't ever lie to him again? What did it say about me if I went back on that word, if only to offer him comfort?
I reached out, picking up his hand and absentmindedly toying with his fingers. I ran my nail up and down his knuckles, before gently rubbing his palm. He sighed, finally stopping with the broody staring and glancing over at me. I attempted to smile, but couldn't quite manage it.
He opened his mouth to speak, and I watched him closely, only for him to stop himself from speaking in favour of staring irritatedly down the hall.
Confused, I glanced over my shoulder, my own eyes sweeping the gathered officers, searching for whoever was aggravating my human. "Shit," the kid swore. "Just perfect." His hand stilled my soothing motions, instead curling around mine and holding tightly, seeking a different kind of comfort, more of a support.
"Who is that?" I asked with a frown, not having to glance back to know a man was approaching us.
"A jackass," was the only response I got before a new voice spoke up.
"A Stilinski at the centre of this whole mess, what a shocker," the man said sardonically, eyes slipping from my boyfriend to me. He eyed me like I was something unworthy of even taking up space. "Who might you be?" he asked, tone making it clear that he didn't actually care.
"Your worst nightmare, if you talk to my boyfriend like that again," I responded blithely, and his lips twitched up into something that wasn't quite snide amusement. "But you can call me Juliet."
"Did you not notice the badge?" he asked sourly, gesturing to the FBI badge hanging around his neck. I glanced at it, having to make a double take when I noticed the name.
Instantly my cold mask replaced the surprise, and I looked back up at him indifferently. "No, I noticed it," I said flatly. "You're Scott's deadbeat dad." I paused, and the agent seemed to bristle. "Yeah, I've heard all about you."
I hadn't, but it wasn't a hard deduction to make.
I could hear him grind his teeth, and had to smother a smirk. "Your girlfriend's a real charmer," he said to Stiles tightly.
"You have no idea," he replied ambiguously, staring up at the agent with irritation.
The man licked his lips, seeming to stop himself from saying something unprofessional. "Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm?" he asked Stiles with narrowed eyes.
"If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid," my human responded in kind, and this time I didn't bother hiding my smirk, tightening my grip on Stiles' hand, interweaving our fingers happily as I glared up at the man.
Agent McCall smiled tightly, looking like he was envisioning Stiles in handcuffs, and not in the sexy way I usually was. "Where's your dad and why has nobody been able to contact him?"
"I don't know, I haven't seen him in hours," Stiles lied fluently, his only tell being a slight wince in his chocolate eyes.
"Is he drinking again?"
The sheer audacity of the man had me flinching in an attempt to stop myself from snarling at him. Stiles' grip on my hand tightened. "What do you mean 'again'? He never had to stop," he responded calmly, much better at controlling his temper than me.
"He did have to slow down; is he drinking like he used to?"
"How about this, next time I'll give him a field-sobriety test. We'll do the alphabet: start with F, end with U."
I chortled unapologetically, but Agent McCall didn't look impressed.
"How about you just tell me what the hell happened here," he said, clearly it wasn't a suggestion.
Stiles sighed tiredly. "We don't know what happened here; we were stuck in the elevators the whole time."
The man stared at us for a few long, long moments, before he finally said, "you're not the ones who put the name on the doors, are you?"
Stiles glanced up abruptly, genuine surprise flickering across his features. "What name?"
McCall looked like he didn't want to tell us, but ultimately decided to do it any way. "Argent," he told us reluctantly, watching our faces closely. It was easy to stop myself from reacting, and I squeezed Stiles' hand to remind him to do the same. "Does that mean anything to either of you?" he asked carefully.
"Nothing," I lied smoothly, then made a show out of checking the time on my phone. "Can we leave yet?" I asked stonily, glancing back up at him with barely concealed contempt.
"Somewhere you need to be?" he questioned.
"Yeah, home," I lied again, feeling not even a shred of guilt for doing so. "Need to check the damage to my house after the storm." I paused, cocking my head at him innocently. "Is that a problem, Agent?"
He hesitated, glanced down at his wrist then huffed. "Stay contactable incase I need to get ahold of either of you," he ordered us, and without even a curtesy nod, he turned and headed deeper into the hospital.
"What a jackass," I murmured to Stiles as we stood, immediately heading for the exit, though not so fast as to attract suspicion.
"You're telling me," he mumbled back as we ducked around some officers standing in the doorway. "We need to find Allison and her dad. Now."
"What's wrong?" Allison asked in lieu of a traditional greeting. I glanced past her, meeting Chris Argent's stormy blue eyes.
"Inside," Stiles shook his head, urging her and her father into the apartment building. "We were at the hospital," he began once we were away from prying ears, all piled into the small metal box. "And your name was written on the elevator doors."
"My name?" the dark haired beauty asked in alarm.
"Well, Argent," I corrected as we stepped out onto what I assumed was their floor. "In light of recent events, we assume this is a warning for you, Chris."
The oldest Argent rolled his eyes like what I'd said was ridiculous. "No, listen to them, dad. They're right. She's taking guardians."
"The word is Guardian, Allison," the man responded tiredly, sliding his keys into the lock and pushing open the door. "More than anyone you know that's a role I haven't exactly lived up to lately."
"But she took Scott's mother and Stiles' father, that's not a coincidence."
"Yeah, and also consider the fact that someone put your name in large block letters on the elevator doors, that kinda felt like a warning to me," Stiles added, then paused in surprised when he realised I wasn't beside him. "Jules?"
"Yeah, give me a hand here, Chris?" I asked from the doorway, pressing my palms against the invisible barrier stopping me from entering.
The hunter hesitated, though I couldn't say I blamed him. After a beat Allison shot him a pointed glare and he instantly mumbled, "come in, Juliet."
I didn't bother to say thank you, holding my head high as I slipped into the apartment, letting the door swing shut behind me and following them into what seemed to be a study, chairs positioned around an old antique desk.
"I think it might be Morrell. She knows a lot more than she lets on and she might even be trying to help us," Allison continued the conversation where we'd left off.
"And hasn't she been a fuck-load of help so far?" I responded sardonically, and she rolled her eyes, seeing my point.
"The lunar eclipse is two freaking nights away," Stiles reminded the group, taking a seat in a chair to the left, running a hand through his hair.
"Stiles," Chris began. "Don't give up hope."
"They could already be dead."
"I don't think so. There's something about Jennifer's tactics; it's like she's still positioning, still moving pieces into place."
Allison frowned, "and you're one of them."
Chris paused, eyeing his daughter carefully before a hint of a smile appeared on his lips. "Then let's not wait around to see her next move." He opened a folded map, laying it out flat on his desk. "Everything she's done has been on the Telluric current, so Melissa and the Sheriff have to be somewhere along those currents, right?"
"Stiles, if we're going to find them, we need your help." He hesitated, eyes sliding over my boyfriend to me, where they narrowed unhappily. "And, as loathe as I am to say it, yours too, Juliet."
Before I could respond, Stiles spoke up. "You seriously want to go after her?" he asked incredulously. "What if she just takes you like the others? No offence, but what's the difference between you and them?"
"I'm carrying a forty-five." His words were punctuated with a click as a magazine slid into place in the gun he was holding. "Maybe she could heal from a shot to the leg and a few slashes to the face, but personally I'd like to see how she holds up with half her skull blown off." I smirked, burying the urge to clap for him, he sure was good at a motivational speech. "We've got one priority right now and that is to find Melissa and your dad. We've got a map and every clue we need to figure this out, what we don't have is time, which is why I need you all three of you."
If you'd told me this time last week that I'd be joining forces with hunters, I probably would have laughed. Now, I knew we didn't have a choice. I couldn't get John and Melissa back by myself, and this tool was our best bet, as much as I hated to admit it.
Stiles glanced up at me, and though my eyes were tight, I nodded gently. He turned back to Chris, "where do we start?"
I hadn't wanted to leave Stiles, but Chris was right, I was more use with them than with Stiles. If I was with him I'd be too focused on keeping him safe, rather than doing what I was meant to.
"It's empty," Allison said as we stepped into the vault. It smelt heavily of dust and dried blood. Not exactly my favourite combination. I walked deeper into the room, away from the others and into the darkness, searching for any hint, any sign that they had been here.
"Be careful anyway," Chris warned, weapon in his hand crackling with blue electricity.
Instantly warning bells rang in my mind, but thankfully someone else realised what was out of place. "I thought you only use those on werewolves?" Isaac spoke up.
"I do."
I turned around just as Isaac was taken down, but before I could even take a step there was a loud bang accompanied by a searing pain in my gut. "Motherfucker," I snarled, glaring at Chris, aching with betrayal. Allison gasped in alarm as I teetered, struggling to stay upright as I felt the wooden bullet scrape against my insides.
There was another bang, and agony prickled at my leg, making my knee collapse. I took a deep breath, prepared to push past the pain and attack. "Dad! What the hell are you doing?" Allison yelled furiously, just before two more bangs echoed through the vault and two more blasts of pain tore through my gut.
I fell back, head cracking against the hard, stone floor. I grunted, an ache shooting through my skull. Everything went white for a long moment, my hearing rendered useless by a piercing ringing in my ears.
Finally, after what felt like at least an hour, the sound went away, allowing me to hear a voice calling my name. "Jules! Juliet! Jules!"
Realising my eyes had shut, I forced them open, staring up at Allison, who was hovered over me, staring down at me with concern. "Ugh, fuck, I hate your dad," I breathed, groaning as the intake of air burned my lungs.
Allison laughed, the sound slightly relieved. "Wooden bullets, right?" she asked, though I was sure she already knew. She moved without me having to prompt her, reaching into my wounds and beginning to fish out the little wooden tokens.
"What happened?" I questioned sluggishly, wincing as her nails grazed my kidney.
"Chris gave himself up," Isaac spoke up from where he sat on my other side, having gone unnoticed. "Jennifer knew we'd be here. She came for him as soon as he attacked."
"And he just went with her?" I asked incredulously, groaning as Allison yanked a second bullet out of my gut. "That son of a bitch," I murmured, waiting impatiently until she finally tore the third bullet from my abdomen. I grunted, feeling cold blood trickle down my side, my clothes no doubt stained.
Isaac grasped my shoulder, pulling me up into a sitting position. I nodded at him in absent thanks, leaning over myself to dig the fourth and final bullet from my flesh, this one in my shin. It was embedded in bone, and hurt like a bitch, but the second it was out I was able to stand.
"Don't suppose you'd be willing to help a girl out and tap a vein?" I asked Allison weakly, but the hunter didn't find my joke funny, merely sending me a displeased expression before turning and heading for the door of the vault.
As we headed out into the main room of the abandoned bank, I could see the sun shining through the smashed windows. "Anyone planning on going to school?" Isaac asked us, glancing from the sunshine to us curiously.
"Definitely not," I responded, glancing down at my bloodstained clothes.
"Yeah, I'd say a shower should be at the top of your to-do list," he murmured, and I hummed in agreement.
Allison turned to me, eyes glassy as she still reeled from her father's sacrifice. "Need a ride home?" she asked, voice hollow.
"I'd say no, but I'd really rather not walk," I admitted, and she nodded, turning to leave, broken glass crunching under her boots. Isaac followed her, both heading back out to where we'd come from. Before moving, I glanced back at the vault, eyeing it warily.
I could only hope I never had to come back.
A/N: Hello you wonderful people, I hope you liked this chapter. I'm working on chapter 50 at the moment, and I cried while writing it, so begin preparing yourselves, it's gonna knock you on your ass.
In other news, I'm working on a Harry Potter story. How many of you would be interested in a Fred Weasley/OC? It would be book-compliant and cover all their years at Hogwarts and the war and all the years after (safe to say it will be LONG). I wouldn't start posting it until I had most of it written, so it won't be up for months yet, but if I know you guys are into the idea, it'll motivate me to work on it. Don't worry, I Know Places will NOT suffer from it, I'm still very much passionate about this story!
Let me know your thoughts on the chapter and my future story idea! I love you all :)
