I'm about to lose my mind

You've been gone for so long, I'm runnin' outta time

I need a doctor, call me a doctor

I need a doctor, doctor to bring me back to life

I Need a Doctor – Dr. Dre (feat. Eminem & Skylar Grey)


"You're making a habit out of this."

I smiled, my eyes glued to Stiles' back as he stood by his desk, fingering through a stack of file. I was sat on his windowsill, and, although I'd been perfectly silent, he was no doubt getting used to my sudden, silent appearances.

"I wanted to make sure you were alright," I murmured to him, my soft voice carrying in the otherwise silent room.

Stiles sighed, turning away from his task to look at me in the soft glow emanating from his bedside lamp. I cocked my head, leaning my weight against the wall as I watched him, assessing his pulse and breathing, as I always did, an action that had become natural to me, reassuring myself that he was okay.

"Are you upset about Malia?" I asked once the silence had stretched on long enough.

"Yeah," Stiles murmured, the sound tired, and I wondered whether he was getting enough sleep. "We should have told her," he said in that tone that made it clear he was beating himself up inside. "Keeping it from her was wrong...and now she hates us."

"It may have been the wrong call..." I trailed off.

"But?" he asked expectantly.

"I was finished talking," I mumbled through a frown, and he gave a derisive snort.

"You never were great with the whole 'comfort' thing, were you?" he murmured with a hint of bitterness. He was lashing out, and that knowledge was just enough to keep me from reacting badly. I stared back at him impassively, patiently waiting for the haze of irritation to clear.

Finally, after a long few moments of frowns and clenched fists, Stiles scowl slackened into an an exhausted expression, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

"Sorry," he apologised remorsefully, fatigued.

"It's fine," I promised him, and he looked up, meeting my eyes across the room.

"How do you feel?" he asked, and I got the feeling he was desperate for the distraction.

"Better now that I've fed," I replied, trying not to lick my lips at the thought of the three blood bags I'd downed before leaving home and making my way to him.

"O positive?" he questioned in polite interest.

"A," I corrected, and he hummed like it made any difference to him.

"So, you don't feel like tearing out my throat?"

"No more than usual."

"I suppose that's better than nothing," he mused, and despite myself, I cracked a smile.

"And how are you?"

"No lingering effects," he shrugged. "It really did pass through my immune system quickly, like that psychopath said it would."

"The CDC didn't wanna keep you longer, run more tests?" I pressed, concerned and thinking that maybe that would have been best.

"Nah," he said, lifting a shoulder in another lazy shrug. "I just got the hell out of there the second they weren't looking. I'm fine," he insisted at my wary look. "Promise," he swore, placing a hand over his thumping heart.

I knew the last thing he wanted was to keep talking about it, but I feared that if I didn't ask now, I might never get the chance. "So, Peter's daughter, huh?" I murmured, and Stiles sighed heavily, hanging his head in defeat as he padded over to his bed, his bare feet quiet on the soft carpet beneath him. "Why didn't anyone tell me?" I asked, watching as he collapsed into the sheets that smelled so strongly of him, head tipped downwards like he was too tired to hold it up. "I had to find out by reading the list and putting the pieces together. It would have been nice to get a heads up."

"Believe it or not, there were more important things going on," he said, but the words were grumbled rather than spat. "Sorry," he apologised again when I fell silent, running his hands down the length of his face. "I'm just exhausted."

"Tell me about it," I murmured back honestly, unable to wait until I got home and curled up underneath my soft but heavy comforter. I may have been fully fed, but I definitely needed rest. Even a vampire's body was prone to exhaustion when hit with a supernatural virus like the one that had, earlier, plagued the pack. "I'll leave you be," I said to Stiles abruptly, turning around and placing a hand on the half-open window. I needed sleep, and I could tell from the human's drooping eyelids that he did too.

"Stay."

I was halfway out the window when he said it, and I paused, one leg half lifted to climb out. I glanced back over my shoulder through a curtain of inky black hair. Stiles was standing now, his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweats, a sheepish, but somehow at the same time, brave, expression spread across his adorable features.

"What?" I asked rather indelicately, eyebrows pulled together in a completely bewildered frown.

"I asked you to stay," he breathed, a look of hope gleaming in his intoxicating eyes.

I sucked in a breath, the air catching in my throat. "I'm not sure that's such a good-"

"Please," he pleaded softly. "Please, Jules."

I wanted to say no. I needed to say no. That's what was best for both of us. We had carefully constructed walls now, ones I wasn't sure should ever be knocked down.

But he was staring at me with those wide, expressive, vulnerable eyes, his heart pounding so loudly that I could barely hear myself think. I swallowed against my suddenly dry throat. "Okay," I agreed, despite my every instinct screaming at me what a terrible idea this was, for everybody involved.

Stiles sagged in tangible relief, and, turning back to the window to give myself a moment to compose myself, I slid the glass down to keep the chill out of his warm room.

The human pulled off his sweatshirt, throwing it over the back of his desk chair in a move that might have seemed casual had I not noticed the trembling of his hands. He padded back over to the bed, pulling back the sheets and climbing in. I hesitated, watching as he made himself comfortable, very obviously leaving a large space open beside him, then turning to face me.

The clouds were thick tonight, stopping the glow of the moon from reaching us. I reached out and flicked off the lamp, plunging us into darkness that only I could see through. Stiles stared at where he assumed I stood, while I held my breath, perfectly silent and for all the world invisible.

"Please, Jules," Stiles asked again, calm although his pulse raced, his voice breaking through the still of the blackened room.

Still not breathing, I toed off my boots, almost robotic as I moved. I tried not to think about what I was doing, or about what it meant for us. I just worked, peeling off my socks before tugging off the unnecessary jacket I'd thrown over my simple shirt. Opting to leave my jeans on, I steeled myself for the coming hours, wondering if I'd be getting any sleep, after all.

I climbed silently onto the bed, my light weight barely making the mattress dip, but Stiles' breath caught when he realised how close I was.

It was a chilly evening, I could tell from the way his exposed skin was covered in goosebumps, and I figured he didn't need my icy skin pressed against his own. Stiles liked to sleep in the middle of the bed, so I kept to the far left, allowing him all the room he needed, and purposefully keeping myself from touching him.

His heart thudded wetly from beside me, and he swallowed, the sound loud in the otherwise silent room. We were quiet for a long, long few minutes, and I paid close attention to Stiles' pulse, listening as it steadily began to calm, slowing to a more regular rhythm.

Slowly, I watched as his hands raised in the darkness, reaching out, and I knew instinctively what he was searching for. Reluctant, but at the same time embarrassingly eager, I found his hand in the shadows. His skin was warm and smooth, and he let out a breath of obvious relief, like he'd been in pain up until the moment we'd touched.

Our fingers slotted together like they were made to do so, something I'd sorely missed.

"Breathe," Stiles murmured in the dark, not doubt noticing my unnatural stillness, and though I was hesitant, I did as requested, inhaling gently. Stiles hummed, shuffling over so his front was pressed to my side. I stared up at the ceiling, unflinching as I focused on breathing in and out, unconsciously listening to the slowing of Stiles' heartbeat, until finally, he fell asleep with a light snore.

I hadn't been expecting to sleep at all, so I hadn't even realised I had fallenasleep until I was sharply awoken by a furious banging on the bedroom door.

I jerked away, a hiss sitting on my lips as Stiles groaned from beside me. I looked over at the window, noting that it was just after dawn. There were more knocks at the door, and I grunted as I slipped from the warmth of the bed, padding my way over to the door and yanking it open, glaring grumpily at the werewolf on the other side.

"Jules?" Scott sounded shocked to see me standing before him, messy-haired and bare-footed, in the doorframe to Stiles' bedroom.

I reached out, swiping Scott's hand where it lay limp by his side, and jerking it up, getting a good look at the time on the watch sitting at his wrist. "5am," I sneered, dropping his arm and glaring at him dangerously. "Really, teen wolf?" I asked crabbily, reaching up to rub at my eyes, which felt thick after sleeping for so long.

"It's important," he insisted, leaning around me to look at Stiles, who was just now sitting upright, rubbing at his own eyes and stretching his arms over his head.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the human murmured around a yawn. He stood to his feet, watching as I stepped aside to let a still-bemused Scott through, shutting the door after him gently, so as to not wake the sleeping Sheriff at the end of the hall. "What's so important it couldn't wait until breakfast?" Stiles asked, his hair sticking up at every angle, eyes hooded and sleepy.

"I kind of came up with a plan," the alpha wolf told us, taking a seat at the desk chair and watching as I sat down on the edge of Stiles' bed, stretching my arms high above my head until my spine popped pleasantly.

"You came up with a plan?" Stiles asked skeptically.

"It's going to sound crazy," Scott told us warningly.

"I love it already," I drawled slyly, shuffling backwards until my back hit the wall, legs stretched out in front of my comfortably, the blue polish on my toenails glistening in the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window, the clouds having disappeared overnight.

Stiles sent me an annoyed look for my unnecessary comment, but I smirked back regardless.

"A plan to do what?" the human asked the werewolf while the vampire listened on with a smirk; which sounded like the beginning of a brilliant joke.

"To catch the Benefactor," Scott revealed, and Stiles' mouth dropped open.

"Catch the Benefactor?" he repeated incredulously, as though he may have misheard.

"When someone on the dead pool gets killed, the Benefactor needs confirmation that the target is dead, right?"

"That's how it works, yes," I replied with as much patience as I could physically handle.

"Well, I think one of us needs to die," he said it so simply, like he wasn't suggesting the worst plan known to human-and-supernatural kind.

"Scott, do you hear yourself when you talk?" Stiles asked, taking a seat on the bed near my feet, hands folded in front of him, staring back at the wolf skeptically, like he was worried for his friend's mental health. I didn't blame him.

"Think about it," the alpha told us stubbornly. "If one of us dies, or at least, appears to be dead, but nobody sends the Benefactor proof, the Benefactor will have to come see the body for himself – and then, we have him!"

Stiles shifted back, staring at the wolf thoughtfully before murmuring, "look, it's not a bad plan..."

"Except the part where one of us has to die?!" I interjected forcefully, beginning to grow anxious.

"But that's easy!" Scott argued. "We already have you!"

I blinked, surprised by the exclamation. "Me?" I repeated, confused.

"You don't have a heartbeat, you don't need to breathe, you're already ice cold," he listed, clearly having thought this through. "You can pretend to be a corpse for a few hours, right?"

"No," I shook my head, and both boys looked ready to argue, but I held up a hand, stopping them in their tracks. "It doesn't work like that. A dead vampire is different to a dead werewolf."

"How?" Scott sounded bemused.

"Oh God," Stiles groaned, suddenly looking ill. "You don't actually turn to dust, do you?"

I snorted, rolling my eyes at the kid affectionately. "We mummify," I informed them flatly, and both gave a grimace of distaste as they imagined what that might look like.

"Well, there goes that plan," the werewolf murmured, a defeated hunch to his broad shoulders, and a look of exhausted resignation on his face, no doubt believing we were back to square one.

An idea hit me, it was crazy, maybe crazier than any of the other ridiculous stunts we'd pulled over the last year, but the plan itself wasn't bad. It could, in theory, work. "Not necessarily," I said slowly, and the boys turned to look up at me, both wearing bewildered expressions.

"What're you thinking?" Stiles asked eagerly, clearly recognising the look on my face.

"It's going to sound mad," I said carefully, lips pursed as I considered my idea thoroughly. "I mean really, properly mad."

"You've gone British again," the human deadpanned, and I rolled my eyes before turning to Scott, my focus on him.

"How would you feel about slipping into a temporary, but still completely real, coma?"

The werewolf looked wary.

"There's a way to sort of, stop your heart, for lack of a better term," I revealed, voice quiet as I met his eyes, making sure he understood the severity of the plan I was suggesting. He was frowning, trying to understand what I was saying. "You're a werewolf, you can survive an hour without much of a pulse. You will be, for all intents and purposes, dead."

Stiles was gaping, trying to wrap his mind around my proposal, while Scott merely looked contemplative, frowning heavily as he considered my words. "What will we need?" the alpha asked suddenly, a look of resolute determination on his face.

"Well, I don't know how the whole plan itself will work out, but for the heart-stopping part? All we'll need is your shiny new girlfriend and her electric little fingers."

"Kira?"

"This is insane!" Stiles abruptly exploded, a look of anxious rage on his handsome face. "We're talking about stopping your heart, Scott," he said slowly, as though his friend hadn't properly understood the first time. "And for what?"

"To find the Benefactor," Scott answered him flatly.

Stiles' outraged expression suddenly dropped, realisation of the severity of the situation trickling over him slowly but surely. "Right," he murmured, seeming to suddenly understand. "The Benefactor," he repeated, a frown marring his brow. "What a dick."

I laughed, one sharp bark of surprise, and even Scott cracked a wide smile, the air in the room suddenly not as thick with tension as it had been.

"I'll call Kira, see if it's doable," the werewolf told us lightly, pulling out his phone and heading from the room. "You two start making plans for what will happen while I'm out of it, we need a way to find and identify the Benefactor."

"And catch him?" I asked quickly, thinking he'd left that part out.

"No," Scott shook his head, leaning on the doorjamb as he spoke, phone held silent in his hand. "Whoever this guy is, he's powerful and probably criminally insane. We want to find out who it is, and then we'll work on stopping him."

I was disappointed, but I understood his logic, and nodded sullenly. The alpha shot us a final smile before holding his phone to his ear and disappearing from view. "Don't worry," Stiles said softly from my side, and I turned to look at him, eyebrow cocked expectantly. "We'll get him."

"And then?"

"And then?" he repeated, something of a satisfied sort of grin appearing on his lips, "...and then, you can kill him."


The sound of metal touching the counter echoed through the otherwise silent room, and the heartbeats surrounding me were all racing, just inviting me to take a taste.

"Is three enough?" Kira asked anxiously, and I lifted my lukewarm cannister of blood to my lips, taking a deep, quenching sip.

"It depends on how many cameras they have, but I think so," Stiles answered her, and I shuffled back from where I was perched on the counter, watching the quartet closely.

"Are we really doing this?" Liam spoke up, his voice just as anxious as the fox's.

"Why is he here, again?" I asked snidely, my irritation evident. He was new to this world, and planning potentially life-threatening schemes to catch evil, supernatural, criminal masterminds wasn't something he actually had any experience in doing. To me, he was nothing but a liability.

"We need all the help we can get," Scott told me sternly, meeting my eyes from across the room. I scrunched up my nose but didn't argue, turning my face into the lip of my drink. "We're doing it," he assured Liam patiently. "Tonight."

"But isn't it kinda dangerous?" the pup asked warily, casting me a look over his shoulder that I blatantly ignored.

"Yeah, it's incredibly dangerous, and borderline idiotic," Stiles drawled, and I felt the urge to lift my drink in a toast.

"Have you guys done something like this before?" he questioned hesitantly.

"Something dangerous, or something idiotic?"

"Don't answer that," I commanded the pack with a huff, and Stiles exhaled, hanging his head as he probably reassessed how completely reckless this plan was.

"You don't have to be a part of it if you don't want to," Scott told his beta softly, and the kid's heart rate spiked with his anxiety.

"I'm not scared," he insisted, the lie so obvious he may as well have it written on his skin.

"Well then, you're borderline idiotic," Stiles smiled sardonically, clapping him firmly on the shoulder. This didn't seem to help the child's nerves. "If we do this, we don't know what's coming for us; you know that, right?"

Kira sucked in a breath, and everyone turned to look at her expectantly. "How do we even know something's definitely coming?" she asked meekly.

"Because the tape from Garrett's bag said visual confirmation was required," Scott explained.

"Simon said the same thing," Stiles added. "He couldn't get paid by the Benefactor until he had proof that you guys were dead."

"So the idea is: what if you kill someone on the dead pool, but you can't send the proof?"

"You don't get paid."

"How does that get us any closer to the Benefactor?" Liam asked quietly, anxiously tapping his fingers against the tabletop.

"He still needs to know if the target is really dead."

"Especially if it's someone high on the list," Stiles added, casting a glance over at his best friend, the concern in his eyes immense.

"So if he wants visual confirmation..."

"He's going to have to come and get it himself."

"There's another glaringly obvious flaw to this otherwise riddled-with-flaws plan, you know," I spoke up, crossing one leg casually over the other and holding my drink out as though it were a Long Island Iced Tea, instead of a metal cannister full of stale blood.

"Please, enlighten us," Stiles said flatly, but my focus was on Scott.

"We've gotta let your mom in on the plan," I told him, and suddenly, for the first time since coming up with this ridiculous excuse for a game plan, Scott actually looked scared. "We've gotta make sure her reaction is as loud and as obvious as possible for maximum impact, and the best way to do that would be to have her prepared."

"She's right," Stiles agreed without hesitation. "Besides, she'd literally kill you if you let her think you were really dead, even for an hour," he told Scott, who nodded slowly.

"She's at the grocery store," Scott said, a rare look of anxiety on his face. "I'll tell her when she gets home," he glanced at the clock, "which should be any moment." There was a pause. "Okay, you want to tell us how we're going to track the Benefactor?" he asked, clapping his hands together in a way that reminded me of a primary school teacher, making my lips twitch up into a smirk.

"So, I've talked to Argent, and wiring into the hospital's computer systems shouldn't be too difficult," Stiles said.

"You're a bloody genius," I told him sincerely.

His cheeks went a blotchy pink. "You're just saying that because you don't even know how to work a stereo," he said with a lightness, rolling his eyes at me teasingly. "Besides, I've got the Hunter's help." Nevertheless, I smiled widely, my blatant adoration for him shining through before I could quell it, and his cheeks went an even darker shade of red. "It'll let us monitor the security system, giving us eyes through the entire hospital. If he shows, we'll see him," Stiles continued once he'd cleared his throat and gotten ahold of himself.

Just as Scott had said, there was the sound of a key in the lock, and suddenly Melissa was letting herself in through the door in the kitchen. She had her head down, her arms laden with shopping bags, and when she finally looked up to see us all staring at her, she jumped.

"Scott," she said with a huff, watching as her son came to relieve her of the bags. "What's going on?" she asked, picking up on the tense mood instantly, smart enough to know we weren't here to watch movies and eat nachos.

"Mom, can I talk to you, for a minute?" Scott said carefully, and his mother's heart rate spiked with anxiety. Nodding, she cast us all another wary glance before following him from the room.

We were silent in the kitchen for a full minute, and I focused on the sound of Stiles' heartbeat in an effort not to eavesdrop on the mother and son in the other room.

"I have a question," Liam spoke up, and I looked up from where I'd been inhaling the scent of my lunch.

"Shocker," I deadpanned, and the kid sent me a bitch-face to rival Stiles'.

"Ignore her," Stiles said quickly, brushing over it with ease. "What is it?"

"Well, Scott was telling me how you become a vampire," he said, and instantly I was at attention, my spine straightened as I listened intently. "Or, what little he knew, anyway." We were silent, waiting for him to get to the point. "He said if someone dies with vampire blood in their system, they'll come back as a vampire."

"Wasn't there meant to be a question in there somewhere?" I asked icily, feeling self-conscious as the only undead one in the room.

"Well, why don't you feed Scott your blood?" he asked like this was the most simple answer to our dilemma in the entire fucking world. "Then there's no way he can die...at least, not totally."

"Doesn't work that way," I said shortly, taking a deep swig of blood, the taste comforting on my tongue.

"How does it work?" Liam countered in as tough of a voice as he could manage, and Kira's heart went haywire from across the room, looking between us anxiously, probably worried I'd retaliate to the attitude. Slightly insulting; I had some self-control, after all.

"Can't turn a werewolf into a vampire," I said in a surprisingly calm voice. "One or the other. Them's the rules."

Stiles shot me an odd look at the phrasing, and I shrugged back at him helplessly. "What about hybrids?" Liam questioned.

The question put me on edge, and out of instinct my eyes glinted red as I asked, "what do you know about hybrids?"

Liam had the decency to look slightly afraid. "Um...only what Scott's told me," he murmured carefully.

I took a deep breath, telling myself not to overreact. It was just that anyone who brought up Klaus made me wary – anything about Klaus made me wary. "Hybrids can only be created by The Original Hybrid. They have to be turned by his blood, and they can only do so when the curse has been lifted and the doppelganger is dead," I explained with award-worthy patience.

Liam only looked more confused. "It's a long, long, long story," Stiles swooped in, and the kid looked relieved by the interjection. "To explain it in full, we're going to need a solid few hours and some flow charts," he added.

Liam nodded. "We can do it later," he said with wide eyes.

"Yeah," Stiles said, tossing me a look that made me smirk.

From the other room, Melissa and Scott were arguing. Not really arguing, she was just begging him to find another way, and he was patiently insisting there wasn't one. I listened as she gradually came around to the idea, beginning to understand how necessary the whole thing was.

"Why aren't there more vampires in town?" Kira was the one to ask this time, and I shot her a flat look that made her pulse jump. "I mean, there are so many werewolves coming and going, but the only vampire is you," she elaborated nervously.

I pondered how to answer the question, noting that Stiles was giving me the side-eye, urging me not to react with the usual level of bitch.

"Vampires and don't tend to play well with others," I finally said, ankles hooked together, head tipped back against Melissa's kitchen cabinets.

"But you do," she argued confusedly.

Stiles snorted loudly. "Overstatement of the year," he said with something of a smirk. "Jules tolerates others, and she doesn't 'play' with them very well at all."

"The vampire isn't a people person; surprise, surprise," I muttered, half bitter, half exasperated. I turned to Kira, not in the mood to dissect that any further. "Vampires are more the nomadic type," I continued to answer her question, tuning out Scott and his mother's discussion when I began to grow aware of it once more. "We like to steer clear of others, particularly if they're werewolves," I said with a faint grimace.

"I guess there are exceptions to every rule, then," Liam spoke up, and my narrowed eyes focused in on the pup, who was blinking back innocently.

"Indeed," I hummed, rather than sneer, taking another sip of blood and turning to face the hallway, quite clearly dismissing them. But, apparently, they didn't take hints very well.

"You're close friends with Scott," Kira said, probing further. I huffed, glancing back over at her with an agitated frown. "So all vampires mustn't think all werewolves are bad."

I lifted my shoulders in a vague shrug. "There's just as much racism in the supernatural world as there is in the human one," I responded dryly, growing disinterested in the conversation. "Not everyone feels the same way, but it's still there enough to be a problem."

Thankfully Melissa and Scott were returning, and we fell silent as they both re-entered the room, Scott looking pensive and his mother looked severely anxious. Someone else walked in behind them, and I blinked in surprise to see it was Kira's mother. I'd been so focused on my conversation that I hadn't noticed her arrive.

"Mom," Kira said, and the older kitsune moved over to her daughter's side.

Scott looked down at his watch, frowning to himself before looking up. "We need to do this now," he said gently, and everybody nodded, beginning to move around the room, going about their tasks.

"You coming in the Jeep with me?" Stiles asked me, gathering up his laptop and heading for the door, knowing he needed to get to the hospital and set up as soon as possible.

I hopped off the counter, opening my mouth to answer when Scott stopped me. "Actually, I'd like a minute with Jules," he said, and my eyebrows raised in surprise. Stiles paused for a moment, then nodded, coming to a stop by his best friends side. They exchanged a few quick words, a sort of 'man-farewell' that involved a lot of nods and a secret handshake. I didn't listen in, focusing instead on Melissa and Kira's mom (whose name I still hadn't learnt) as they murmured between one another quietly.

"Meet you by the Jeep," Stiles told me with a nod, and I nodded back, watching as took Melissa by the arm and began to lead her towards the door. She and her son had already had their words, but they exchanged a hug and a whispered farewell before the left.

"You guys can go up to my room," Scott told Kira, her mom and Liam. "I'll be up in a minute."

They looked curious and hesitant, but nodded before turning. The wolf and I both listened as their footsteps travelled up the stairs and into his bedroom. It was only then that Scott began to talk.

"I just wanted to say...if I die today..." he began, but immediately I held up a hand, and he stopped talking.

"You're going to be fine, Scott," I told him firmly, refusing to believe otherwise, and there was suddenly a fond smile on his lips, like something about my response had been endearing.

"You're not usually the optimistic one," he told me with a small grin.

"You usually are," I countered, and he chuckled.

We were silent for a second, and he seemed to be trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say next. "Do you think we can get into heaven?" he asked gently, and though I was thrown by the question, I kept my expression impassive, blinking back at him calmly.

"Why wouldn't we?" I asked when it was clear he wasn't going to continue.

"Well, we're not..." he seemed to be having trouble saying it.

"Human?"

"Right," he nodded, and I cracked what I hoped was a comforting smile.

To be honest, I was pretty damn sure there would be no ticket waiting at the Pearly Gates for myself, but Scott? I couldn't imagine a God who wouldn't let this little ray of sunshine into heaven.

"I think that, what we are? It doesn't matter," I told him, and he looked back up hopefully. "Who we are is the only part that's worth a damn."

Scott seemed relieved by my answer, and I had a feeling I'd finally done something right. I grinned, eased by his smile.

"Thanks, Jules," he said, turning towards the stairs before suddenly stopping, looking back at me. "You'll look after them, right?" he asked carefully. "If the worst does happen?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you," he laughed like my response was in any way amusing. "You're my first Beta, after all," he smiled, and I blinked in shock. I didn't know what I could possibly say in response, so I merely stared as he grinned one more time before turning away and heading up the stairs.

I wandered out to the Jeep slowly, hopping into the backseat and pulling the door closed after me. "Finally," Stiles commented, putting the vehicle into gear and reversing out of the driveway. "Not like were on a time limit or anything," he added, but I didn't feel like I was in the mood to respond, so I just hummed non-committally, staring out the window, thinking about how, if someone had told me two years ago that this is where I'd be by now, I'd have laughed in their face.

Funny how quickly things can change.


"I hate seeing him like this," Stiles said, staring down at his best friend's 'corpse', his skin ashen and bloodless. He swallowed, and I knew it was hard for him. I didn't know what to do, so I tentatively reaching out a hand and grasped his, interweaving our fingers in a move that made my dead heart leap and holding on tightly.

Part of me was terrified he would push me off; all of me was relieved when he held me back like I was the only thing tethering him to the earth.

"I can hear his heart," I assured him gently, the other in the room silent as we all waited for Melissa's screaming in the next room to be over. It was so pained, but I knew she didn't have to work too hard on manufacturing the noise; her son really was (technically) dead. "It's faint and rare, but it's beating," I said, pushing myself up a little to speak into his ear.

His thumb caressed the back of my hand, and although it was a bad idea, I still leant into him, gently resting my chin on his shoulder and grasping at his forearm with my free hand. The contact was warm and made my skin buzz. I focused on keeping my ears on Scott's waning heartbeat, reminding myself of the important task we had given ourselves.

The screaming had stopped, and finally Melissa pushed her way into the room, wiping the tears from her face, sniffling as she approached.

"I still hate this plan," she said in a still-shaky voice, staring down at her lifeless son. "I mean this is pretty significantly terrifying – he looks dead."

I wanted to say something comforting, but I wouldn't know where to begin, so I remained glued to Stiles, my awareness scanning the hall outside for anyone who didn't feel right.

"Give me your hand," Noshiko (I'd learnt her name on the way over) said, and I watched as Melissa looked warily to Stiles, who brought his free hand up to brush her gently on the back.

"It's okay," he assured her, and she sniffled again as she did as instructed. Noshiko pressed the other mother's hand against her son's sternum, and Melissa whimpered at how cold to the touch he was.

We were silent, and I listened closely, until finally his heart gave one, solid beat, then fell silent once more. Melissa looked like she could collapse with relief. "Is that enough to keep a werewolf alive?" she asked, staring down at Scott with hope shining in her eyes.

"Enough for an alpha," the kitsune said with a small smile.

"How much time do we have?"

"Forty-five minutes."

"What happens after that?"

"I bring him back the same way," Kira said gently.

"No, I mean what happens if he stays like this longer than forty-five minutes?" Melissa asked, her voice low and serious, turning to glance at Stiles and I. The both of us remained pathetically silent. I didn't want to be the one to tell her the reality of the situation.

"No one's told her?" Noshiko asked tightly.

"What?" Melissa demanded, growing agitated. "What happens after forty-five minutes?"

Noshiko hesitated, then looked her in the eye and said, "he dies."

Melissa's heart gave a terrified stutter, but she kept her horror from her face. "Well," she began bracingly. "We'll just have to make sure we're on time, then, won't we?" she said, and we all nodded our heads, all of us thinking the same thing.

"I've got to go request payment with Argent," Stiles said abruptly, the time limit obviously weighing heavily on his mind too. "Will you be okay?" he asked Melissa, who managed a tight smile before nodding. "And you?" he turned to me, staring at me expectantly, and I blinked in surprise at the question.

"Of course I will," I assured him, bemused.

"I've heard that before," he murmured sourly, and I rolled my eyes. "Meet you at the rendezvous point?" he asked, glancing between all of us. He received curt nods in response. "Okay," Stiles nodded, looping his arm around my waist and pulling me in for a quick hug, holding me to him tightly before turning and leaving. I was left stunned by the action, and could do nothing but stare after him as he hurried away, off to complete his mission.

I looked around the room, taking in a still-shaking Melissa, a lost looking Kira and Liam, and the stoic seeming Noshiko. "Come on," I said bracingly, taking charge since I knew nobody else was going to. I was, after all, in Scott's words, his first beta, and therefore, next in the chain of command. "We can't stick around, we need to get out of here."

I waved the others out of the room, and Melissa took a moment to touch her son's slack face before turning and all but running from the morgue. Kira's mom went next, nodding at me respectfully, which was nice I supposed, then the two rascals. They headed out of the room, and I cast a final look at Scott.

"If you die, I'll kill you," I whispered to him in a fit of sentimentality. "You hear me, Teen Wolf?"

There wasn't so much as a twitch of his face to say he did, but it would have to be enough. With a sigh, I turned and left the morgue, heading straight for the room Melissa had signed out for us to use. It was small, with only one chair, and we had all the fancy computer equipment set out on the bed, waiting to be used.

Stiles still wasn't there, probably still in the basement with Argent.

Liam was reclined in the single chair, and without thought I reached down, grasping him by the collar and hauling him out of it. He let out a strangled yelp as I gently but firmly cast him aside, taking a seat in the chair myself.

"What the hell?!" he frowned at me, baffled by my casual, albeit rude, action.

"Not in the mood, Pup," I said stonily. The whole situation had me on edge – I was beginning to regret suggesting this stupid plan in the first place.

We were silent for thirty-three seconds (I counted the ticks of the clock) before Kira spoke up, never one for silences, comfortable or otherwise. "So, what's the deal with you and Stiles?" she asked, and Liam gave an irritated huff from across the room, clearly not in the mood to listen to girl-talk.

"Take a look around, Kira. Is now really the best time to be discussing my love life?" I asked dryly.

"I need a distraction," she admitted with a heavy sigh. She looked back up, curiosity in her dark eyes. "So, are you two back together?"

"No," I huffed with an irritated scowl that didn't seem to affect her for once.

"It sure looks like you are," she said, aiming for lighthearted.

"Looks can be deceiving," I deadpanned, but it didn't seem to affect her.

"Well, for what it's worth, I think you two are perfect for each other," she offered me gently, a look of determined braveness on her face, as though this had been something she'd been gearing herself up to say for awhile now, and despite my own anxiety and inner turmoil, I forced something of a smile onto my face that made her smile back in relief. Before she could say anything else, the door opened, and we all spun around to see Stiles stepping into the room, shutting it quietly behind himself.

"Is it done?" I asked softly as he moved over to us, taking the spot in front of the computers and leaning down to tap a few buttons before straightening again.

"With absolutely no dramatic flare," he muttered. "But yes."

I wasn't sure what that meant, so I opted to remain silent.

"Argent's up on the roof, hooking us in," he added just as his phone began to buzz in his pocket. He took it out, answering the call quietly.

"I'm here," Argent's low voice carried through the otherwise silent room, "you ready?"

"Yeah," Stiles murmured, staring at the computer screens, which I realised had all gone dark.

"Try it now," he said, and Stiles hesitated only a beat before pressing a key on the centre computer, the screens flickered to life, images of the halls in the hospital appearing across them like magic. I blinked, honestly surprised it had worked.

Surprised, but endlessly relieved.

"We're in," Stiles told Argent, a note of relieved surprise to his own voice, and Argent gave a murmured reply before ending the call, but I wasn't paying attention.

I was itching to get out there, to hover near the morgue so I could be ready to jump on the Benefactor. I knew that wasn't the plan, and I knew it was a bad idea, but it didn't stop me from wanting to do it.

"This is a good plan," Stiles said to me quietly, as though the werewolf and kitsune in the room couldn't hear every word. "It'll work," he added, but even he couldn't mask the wavering doubt in his voice.

"How long do we have?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound as anxious as I felt, and he tapped his phone.

"Just under thirty minutes," he told me, and I nodded, glancing once more at the monitor letting us peek into the morgue. Scott was still, and for all the world, a corpse.

"Would you take a breath or something?" I hissed at Liam sharply, finding the wet, gluggy pumping of his heart to be severely distracting. "If your heart goes any faster you'll collapse."

"I wouldn't be so anxious if you guys didn't look so concerned," he argued defensively.

"Our best friend is laying, lifeless, on a slab in a morgue," I told him, my voice dripping with disdain. "Forgive us for being worried," I added venomously.

"I think we're all a little on edge," Stiles said slowly, shifting ever so slightly between the werewolf and I in an attempt to keep things civil.

"Is that supposed to look like that?" Liam asked, and all of our eyes snapped to where he was pointing, one of the many feeds on the computers going dead, replaced by black static before it went grey.

"No, it's not," Stiles sighed, staring at the dead feed gravely.

"Where is that?" Kira asked anxiously.

"It's the roof, someone's going to have to check it out," he said, and immediately I straightened up.

"I'll go," the kitsune said before I could volunteer myself.

"Whoa, this might not just be a malfunction," Stiles argued.

"He's right," I said, standing to my feet. "I'll go with you."

"I can look after myself," Kira said gently but firmly. I got the feeling she felt the need to prove herself, and I wasn't going to begrudge her the opportunity. "Besides, I'm bringing this," she added, holding up her katana, the deadly metal edge glinting in the low light.

She turned, rushing from the room. "Wait! I'm coming with you!" Liam exclaimed suddenly, leaping after her and disappearing out the door before either of us could argue.

"You're both coming rightback!" Stiles called after them as loudly as he dared. "Immediately!"

He received no reply.

"Ugh, kids," he murmured to himself with a shake of his head, and I sat back down in the chair, folding my hands under my chin and smirking to myself as I returned my gaze to the monitors. "It's strange, isn't it?" he said, his voice loud in the otherwise silent room.

"What is?" I asked, still scanning every camera, keeping tabs on anyone who looked even slightly out of place.

"Having to be the responsible ones," he answered quietly. Against my better judgement, I looked away from the monitors, glancing up at him. He was staring resolutely at the screens.

"I wonder if this is how Scott's always felt," I mused, and was beyond pleased when the human's lips twitched up into something of a smile.

I stood to my feet, stepping closer to him but mostly to get a better look at the monitors, my ears focused on the sounds outside.

"Jules," Stiles said, and I glanced over to see him frowning at me. "Do you think-"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off when, without warning, the room went completely and utterly dark. Everything was silent for a few seconds, then the emergency lighting kicked in with a weak flicker. The screens had gone dark, and suddenly, our plan seemed doomed to failure.

"No," Stiles muttered angrily, reaching out and slamming his fingers down on the long, rectangular key over and over. Nothing changed. "Dammit!" he cursed, pulse spiking.

"What do we do?" I asked, at a loss.

I could go stakeout the morgue, but if I was caught by the Benefactor, who knew what would happen? I wasn't concerned about getting hurt, just about ruining our chances at catching the son of a bitch.

"Come on," Stiles said decisively. "Let's find the others."

He reached down, taking my hand and beginning to lead me out of the room and into the hall, where nurses and doctors were racing around like crazy, trying to restore order. Argent was just walking past us, and Stiles reached out a hand to stop him.

The Hunter spun around, gun in hand and aimed threateningly at Stiles' face.

Without hesitation I broke away from Stiles' hand, reaching up quicker than either human could process and grasping the barrel of the weapon and ripping it from his grasp with a warning hiss. I held the gun in a too-tight grip, only relaxing my hold when I felt the metal begin to crush under my fingers.

Argent held out his hands in surrender, silently assuring me it was an accident, and with a grimace of disdain, I handed the weapon back.

"Power's out in the whole building; I lost all the cameras," Stiles said once he was sure I wasn't about to do something stupid, like attack the Hunter.

"Stay with Scott, text me if you see or hear anything," Argent ordered, and Stiles nodded. "Juliet, you're with me."

"I'm not leaving Stiles," I argued instantly.

"There isn't time to debate it," he snapped back, glancing down at his watch. "We have eighteen minutes left," he said urgently. "Let's go."

I turned to Stiles, terror filling me. The last thing I wanted to do now was separate, but I knew Stiles was in far less danger by himself. I was a target, while he was under the Benefactor's radar. "Stay safe," I ordered him, reaching up briefly to run a finger across his beautiful jaw.

"You too," he said with a swallow. I wanted to kiss him, more so than I ever had in any other moment before, I wanted to kiss him.

"Juliet," Argent snapped, and I could do no more than turn and leave, even though my chest tightened unbearably with every step I took away from my human.

"What's the plan?" I asked the hunter as we strode away, taking a sharp left and heading down an unfamiliar hallway.

"Defend the innocent," he said blandly.

"What is this, a comic book?" I asked bitterly. He took a moment to shoot me his most irritated stare, which I definitely deserved.

"How about: don't get killed?" he said slowly, peeking around a corner with his gun held out in front of him.

"I like this plan," I nodded. "We've got to make our way up to the roof."

"Why?" he asked as a group of frantic nurses scurried past us, shooting Argent's gun distrustful looks.

"Kira and Liam went up there," I said, trying not to give away how concerned I felt about their safety. Showing hunters you actually had a heart wasn't recommended in the vampire-handbook. Weakness was all too readily exploited. The sent of blood was in the air, and though that wasn't unusual for a hospital, it still made my skin crawl and my stomach ache in hunger. "They never came back."

I glanced over my shoulder, scanning the hall behind us for a sign that told me where I could find the stairs. "Not going to be possible," Argent told me in a stony voice, and I spun around only to be met with a most unpleasant sight.

Kate Argent was standing before us, a stupid smirk on her stupid face. But the really concerning part was the massive, towering Berserker standing behind her, it's skull-encased face tilted like that of an animal about to strike.

"You wanna take the Berserker?" Chris asked quietly as they stared at us, pulling a clip from his belt and slipping it into place in his weapon in an inconspicuous move.

"I'd rather take your psychotic bitch of a sister," I admitted honestly.

"Well, something tells me we aren't going to get what we want," he said just as, by some unspoken command, the Berserker began to charge, it's massive feet hitting the floor so hard, it made the whole level shake. And it was heading right for me.

"Fuck," I cursed, crouching down instinctively, preparing to pounce.

"Remember that thing I said?" Argent asked as Kate began to make her way towards us also, albeit as a much slower pace than her terrifying companion.

"Try not to die?" I yelled.

"That's the one," he agreed, before the deafening bang of his gun filled the room, and the Berserker was on top of me.

Fighting these things was nearly impossible. It was incredibly strong, not to mention big. My only advantage was speed; it was too bulky to move very fast. I slipped between it's legs, grasping at the back of it's knee and twisting. It collapsed halfway down, but managed to stay upright, whirling around to slam it's giant, spiked fist into my face.

The force slammed me against the wall, my body leaving a Jules-sized dent in the plaster. It hurt, but it hadn't broken anything, so I quickly leapt onto it's back.

Suddenly, I'd learned what the mask was for. It was large, encasing it's whole head, and no matter how good of a grip I got, I couldn't seem to snap it's thick, blood smeared neck.

It threw me off with laughable ease, tossing me ruthlessly into the wall again, an explosion of plaster thrown around me, travelling down my throat and making my eyes burn.

My shoulder was dislocated, and I remained still as the Berserker seemed to consider me neutralised, turning with a guttural growl and stomping away. I groaned, throwing my weight against the wall to snap my shoulder into place. I looked over at the spot where Chris and Kate had been standing, to see them gone, bullet casings littering the floor the only proof they'd been there at all.

Screams sounded from down the hall, and Argent's stupid moral code entered my mind.

Defend the innocent.

Fucking hell.

I took off at a run, my legs heavy and my shoulder aching like a bitch. People screamed in horror as they laid eyes on the Berserker, and I knew this was bad for the whole 'secrecy' thing our kinds tried to keep going.

Sliding out into a hall, fear gripped me as I laid my own eyes on the Berserker, but the terror didn't really set in until I saw Noshiko and Melissa standing before it, staring up at it's blood-soaked skull mask with dread.

I acted on instinct, sliding around the thing, landing a useless punch to it's gut before it could notice me, then racing forwards and grabbing each mother on the arm.

"You can stare when it's dead!" I yelled at them, pushing them forwards and keeping my pace low so I wouldn't outrun them. They weren't fast at all, so very human, running as fast as their mortal little legs could carry them, but it was gaining on us, and fast. "Listen, we're not going to outrun it!" I told them over the screams of another group of nurses.

"We can't fight it!" Melissa yelled back.

"We don't have a choice!"

It was upon us, I could feel it's hot, decaying breath brushing the back of my neck, and with an agitated huff I spun around, stamping my feet and holding my ground. The thing didn't waste any time, it's massive hand slammed into my middle, it's boney claws slicing at my skin, and I felt my cold blood run down over my stomach.

It was just so big. I couldn't snap it's neck. I couldn't see any skin to bite. I couldn't find a single weakness.

With an almost casual slap to my face, I was sent flying. I felt weightless for one glorious second, then I crashed into the wall. I felt the concussion hit me as my head cracked against a beam, and I was dazed, slipping helplessly to the floor.

There was scream, a loud, terrified scream, and I blinked as I painfully forced myself upright.

The Berserker was walking away. Why was it walking away? Shouldn't it still be killing us?

The alluring scent of blood pervaded the corridor, and without looking, I knew someone was hurt. All I could do was pray it wasn't Melissa, and as I turned, I was devastated to find I got my wish.

Noshiko was laying still on the floor, blood pouring from her ruptured stomach faster than Melissa could stop it. In the blink of an eye I was beside the old kitsune, hands hovering uselessly over her bleeding abdomen.

"Can you do anything?" Melissa asked, trying to apply pressure on the wound to try and stem the flow of blood. I looked up at her, confused. "Your blood has healing properties," she said as though this were obvious.

"She's a kitsune," I shook my head regretfully. "My blood would only poison her."

"Jules!" a new voice was yelling, and I turned to see Liam barrelling towards us, coming to a stop beside me with heavy breaths. "Oh, my God," he said, staring down at the blood in horror.

"Go get Kira," I ordered him without hesitation, knowing that if Noshiko wasn't going to pull through, she wouldn't be around for much longer. He didn't move. "Now, Liam!" I snarled, and with a startled blink he leapt to his feet and took off down the hall.

"I need a doctor!" Melissa was yelling, but the floor was empty and nobody seemed to hear. "I need to go call for help," she told me suddenly. "I need you to press your fingers to her wound like this."

"I can't," I said, panic filling me as I stared down at the pool of blood that was soaking through my pants, staining the skin underneath.

"You can, Jules," Melissa said, patient and calm. "Hurry, we don't have any time," she told me hurriedly. "This is the only way to save her."

Taking in a deep breath, then stopping breathing altogether, I shuffled into her vacated place, pressing my cold hands against Noshiko's wound. Her hot, irresistible blood spilled out over my hands, and my mouth began to water at the sensation. I bit down on my tongue with my fangs, and my own blood filled my mouth, the substance gluggy and unappealing.

"Keep applying pressure!" Melissa yelled to me before climbing unsteadily to her feet and racing down the hall in a panic, calling out for help.

From in my lap, Noshiko's head began to bob as she rapidly lost consciousness. "Stay awake, Fox," I ordered her sternly, and she blinked up at me confusedly, like she didn't understand why I was there.

A long minute passed; Noshiko breathing heavily, me, not at all.

Then Melissa and a Doctor were racing down the hall towards us, and I exhaled in relief, hunger scratching at my insides like a wild animal.

"Get her off the floor-" Melissa was saying.

"Hold the wound," I ordered her, and she immediately did as asked. Without care for the witness, I slid my arms under the gasping kitsune, lifting her as I stood to my feet. The doctor, a tall man with no hair and kind eyes, stared at me in bewilderment, shocked that someone my size seemed to have no trouble lifting a fully grown woman, but Melissa snapped him back to attention, and soon enough an orderly with a bed was heading towards us.

"Mom!" Kira's voice screamed from the end of the hall, and she sprinted towards us, terror making her heart race.

I pulled away from the injured kitsune, stepping back as the Doctors pushed Noshiko away, already beginning to work on her rapidly cooling body.

Scott was there, hugging his mom, which was a huge relief, but all I could do was stare down at my bloody hands, telling myself over and over that licking them wasn't a good idea.

Noshiko may have been a kitsune still, but she was more human than fox these days, and the scent of her blood confirmed it. It was thick and rich, and my mouth continued to water as my mind and body cried for just one little taste; what harm could it do?

"Jules."

I looked up to see Stiles looking at me, and I blinked, breaking from my stupor. He stepped into me with all the ease of somebody coming home. He threaded his arms around my body and pulled me to him.

"Stiles, the blood-" I tried to say.

"I don't care," he mumbled into my hair, one hand pressed lovingly to the back of my head, holding me against him. Unable to help myself, and despite my skin soaked with blood, I wrapped myself around him, clutching at his back and inhaling his comforting scent. "Out of curiosity, is any of it yours?" he asked, still holding me close, his hands rubbing up and down my back.

Despite everything, despite all of the horrible, horrible things that had happened on this night, I still managed a laugh, tucking my head into his neck and revelling in feeling at home.


A/N: I've begun work on the original season, and you guys are either going to love it or hate it. I know a lot of you are eager to see more of the Originals; are there any other appearances you want to see? Anything you want to happen? What are you expecting/hoping for? Now is the time to get your suggestions in!

You're all going to LOVE the next chapter, trust me, I think you'll all be very...satisfied ;)

Let me know your thoughts, I love every single one of you, and your reviews mean the absolute world to me!