SCOTT

Scott ran as fast as he could. It felt good to be moving like this, using his powers and without the constrictions of a vehicle. He wasn't always faster than vehicles, but ever since he'd awakened his true Alpha powers, a lot of things had begun changing in him.

He had to move fast, however. When he'd received Stiles' call, he was worried at first that his friend had another nightmare, that he might even be convinced that he was still dreaming. Scott couldn't help but think that might have been better than what Stiles had told him over the phone, vague or not.

It wasn't until Scott reached Stiles house that he grew confused. The driveway had two vehicles in it – Stiles and…

"Scott?" Stiles called from the doorway. Scott's attention immediately moved away toward his best friend.

"Stiles, are you-?" Scott began, already shifting back toward his normal form, but Stiles interrupted him.

"Just come in. We can talk about it in here."

Scott nodded and headed into the house. Stiles looked awful. Despite everything that had happened, and how he had hoped Stiles might finally start feeling better, things had seemed only to grow worse. Stiles could barely sleep, and when he did, it was only nightmares.

Scott knew what it was that was haunting Stiles, even if his friend didn't want to talk about it. He hated how helpless he felt. If he tried to console Stiles, Stiles would shift the subject entirely, trying to hide from it for whatever reason. And once, when Scott had tried to take some of tiles pain, to see if he even could, Stiles had wrenched away from him and nearly exploded with rage.

So this was how things were now. Scott couldn't help but miss the simpler times. How had things escalated so quickly, changed so rapidly? How is it that his best friend, who had been the most normal of them all, had been the one to be possessed by some evil spirit?

Scott's mind stopped abruptly as he entered the house and Stiles closed the door behind him. He almost did a double take. In the hall was some teen boy's body, but standing over it, examining it, was –

"Derek?" Scott asked, feeling surprised and confused. He knew that it had been his vehicle he'd seen in the driveway. Scott was a little surprised that Derek was here of all places.

"I called him after I got off the phone with you," Stiles replied. "I- I didn't know what happened, and I didn't think you would know either. Derek kind of grew up with stuff like this, so I just hoped maybe he'd be able to tell me exactly what- what we're- I'm dealing with."

"Good," Scott replied, meaning it. He had thought about calling Derek himself once Stiles had hung up. "We definitely could use the help."

"You sure could," Derek replied from the hall, still not looking in their direction. He seemed more interested in the corpse in the hallway. "This is… this is different."

"What exactly happened, Stiles?" Scott asked.

Stiles told him, not leaving out a single detail this time. Once he was done, however, Scott felt even more confused than before.

"He wanted to eat you?" Scott asked.

"Which doesn't make much sense," Derek chimed in, moving away from the hall towards them, his gaze on Stiles. "Wendigos eat human flesh, but in order to gain strength, real strength, they typically go after other supernatural creatures."

"Wendigos?" Scott asked. That term sounded so familiar. "That's… isn't that some Native American folklore?"

"Yes," Derek replied. "They're like you and I, shapeshifters. He stronger they are, the worse they look. Luckily for Stiles here, this one sounds like it was pretty weak since it resembled a human so much."

"Yeah well, I wouldn't exactly have considered it weak myself," Stiles replied bluntly.

"That's not what I meant," Derek sighed. "It is weak for a Wendigo, but that's good. Wendigos can become strong – insanely strong. Many go out of their way to ingest other beings, be it humans or supernatural creatures. They get strength and power from either, but it'd take a lot of normal people to equate the power they could get from – from a fresh werewolf who was just turned. They can even be stronger than a single Alpha."

"They eat other people?" Scott asked in disbelief. "That's disgusting! And awful."

"Yeah, well, next Wendigo we see, I'll make sure to leave that in their suggestion box," Derek replied with exasperation. Scott might not have noticed it, but Derek himself didn't seem to be in much better shape. He looked tired, and his clothes were rather odd and disheveled, like he'd come here in just as much of a hurry as Scott. "Look, the point is, you did a surprisingly good job, Stiles. Wendigos are not to be messed what I don't understand is how it thought it could take a good amount of energy from you. The stronger, the better energy they get. But you, Stiles, are just a human."

"Maybe the Nogitsune left something behind," Stiles mumbled. "Maybe he thought he could ingest that from me and become some sort of super soldier to fight the mouthless man."

"Is he a Wendigo, too?" Scott asked.

"I honestly don't know what he is. Even after Stiles described him in detail to me, I couldn't remember a single supernatural creature like him that my family had ever told me about or that I have ever encountered. Peter might know. He's a better bet."

"Wonderful, let's just invite all kinds of murderers in my house," Stiles replied without feeling. "Hey, maybe we can call up both Deucalion and your evil psycho ex-girlfriend, Derek. After all, you bother just let them run off."

"Stiles-" Scott began, but Derek interrupted.

"I'm not having Peter come over here," Derek replied with disgust, and then looked at Stiles strangely. "I'm not stupid, Stiles. Contrary to popular belief, I would rather not have my killer uncle around you when you can't even defend yourself."

"I managed to beat a Wendigo, not that defenseless am I?" Stiles replied back angrily.

"I didn't mean it like that. You just – ugh!" Derek growled, and moved away from the two boys. "Look, we need to get this body out of here, now. Chances are that your dad, as well as the police, may frown upon a dead boy's body lying in your hallway."

"What are we supposed to do with it?" Scott asked. "Especially since…"

Scott could see the blood splatter on the walls, and the pool of dry blood that had formed around the body. He stepped closer, trying to get a look at the assailant who had tried to kill his best friend. It was a mess.

"We'll have to burn it and bury it," Derek replied, looking at Scott. "Might as well toss it by my old house. The place is practically torched to all hell anyway. We'll take care of the blood after. You and I will deal with it."

"What am I supposed to do?" Stiles asked. "I can't – I can't just be here and do nothing. I can't."

Scott wasn't really sure what to say. Getting rid of a dead supernatural body that was no longer in some supernatural form from his best friend's house wasn't exactly a problem he'd dealt with before. This was messy, and tricky, and he'd seen enough crime shows and heard enough stories from both his father and Stiles' dad to know situations like these didn't always end the way you wanted them to.

"You're coming with us," Derek replied. "Afterwards, we'll come back. We'll… clean this mess up."

"You suddenly know how to clean up crime scenes now?" Stiles asked.

"I know a lot of things," Derek replied, turning away and walking back to the body. "Come on, Scott. We need to get moving on this, fast. It's going to be morning by the time we are done."

Scott didn't want to think too much about what they had done. Sure enough the sun was coming up, and there was a chill in the air from the winter cold front. Stiles was still inside, but Scott had followed Derek out now that he was leaving.

"There's a few things we still need to talk about," Derek said suddenly by his car, turning toward Scott.

"I was just about to ask you a few things. Why are there Wendigos and mouthless men running around our town?" Scott asked. "I know Deaton said that we would become a 'beacon' of sorts, but…"

"I can't tell you why there were Wendigos here," Derek replied, and for the first time that night, he wasn't hiding his expressions. He looked truly exhausted. "I can tell you that, if that kid was right when Stiles heard him talking about having a family, that they are probably all dead but came here just recently. I would have noticed them here. They're messy and easy to track.

"What really concerns me is the mouthless man. The way Stiles described him, how he completely disregarded Stiles and only went after the boy – it's similar to a Hunter," Derek replied.

"Like the Argents?" Scott asked, a hesitant tone in his voice.

Derek looked at Scott, understanding in his eyes.

"No, nobody is like the Argents. At least, in my experience. All the Hunters I have ever met have been cruel in one way or another," Derek replied. "But I don't think this man is a Hunter either. First of all, no mouth? Sounds too supernatural for Hunters to allow to be roaming about alongside them. Peter may know more. If not, you can always ask Deaton."

"We could always go ask," Scott replied, walking closer to Derek. There was something about how the man was handling himself that Scott couldn't help but what to fix. Hell, he knew Derek wasn't much older than him and Stiles, yet he carried himself like he was.

"'We'?" Derek asked, confused. "I remember a time Scott McCall would have rather sent his best friend to deal with me. I also remember a time he would have rather not dealt with me at all."

"I'm not that boy anymore," Scott replied simply.

"I know you're not," Derek said, a half smile on his face. "You've grown. You're a leader, the Alpha. But after everything I've done, I'm not sure you'd really want me around. I've made a lot of mistakes, Scott. I teamed up with Peter instead of trusting you and Stiles, I tried to make my own pack which now consists of two dead wolves and one who preferred to leave then be around, my own little sister wanted out and left town, and I've dated two women now who have tried to kill us."

"You've also helped us," Scott replied. "Many, many times. Derek, you may not be an Alpha anymore, but we still need you. And not as some resource for what monster of the week we are dealing with, but because at the beginning, it was just you, Stiles and I. And while he may not say it exactly, Stiles cares about what happens to you. So do I. We're friends… or something."

There was silence between the two as Derek seemed to process what Scott was saying. Scott wondered if he was going to turn around, get in his vehicle, and leave Beacon Hills forever.

"I guess… we are friends," Derek said with a grunt. "Weird how everything has turned out along the way. Anway, I'll go talk to Peter. When I'm done, I'll come back and check on you two. Then we can go see Deaton."

"Alright," Scott replied with a nod, smiling. "Deal."

Derek turned around and opened the door of his vehicle, but stopped short getting in.

"There's something else," Derek said with a pause. "About Stiles."

"What?" Scott asked.

"Wendigos can sense the difference between your average human and someone like you and I. No matter how weak or insane one might be, they can always tell the difference. And if, like Stiles said, the Nogitsune had left something on him, they'd be able to tell as well. It wouldn't be much help to them."

"What are you saying?" Scott asked, confused.

"I'm just saying… they don't make mistakes. Wendigos wouldn't get much power from a normal human. That being said, it also doesn't make sense that the Nogitsune chose him of all people in this town," Derek started. "Think about it. So many people it could have attached itself to, it could have taken over, so many it could have even tried to possess the powers of as well. But it chose someone like Stiles."

Derek went silent then, but Scott didn't need him to say it out loud to understand what Derek was alluding to.

"We need to keep an eye on him. To protect him," Derek replied. "Until we know more, at least. Same goes with Lydia," Derek said. "In fact, we need to do more than that. This town is getting more and more dangerous. They need to know how to protect themselves. You and Kira are more than capable, but Lydia is about as much of a physical threat as a fly. And Stiles… well, he somehow managed to fight off a Wendigo, which is a start, but…"

"You're saying we should start training them," Scott said, and though the idea had sounded ludicrous in his head, once the words had left his mouth, it made sense. Lydia was a Banshee, something they had only encountered one other of in this town, and she'd already been kidnapped twice. And as long as Stiles and he were best friends, Stiles would end up in the crosshairs of whatever danger came after Scott.

"It's up to you," Derek replied. "You're the Alpha, it's your call. Anyway, if you want, we can talk more about it later, or we can pretend this conversation never happened. I'll be back after I go see Peter."

And with that, Derek got into his vehicle, closed the door, and drove off. Scott waited until he couldn't see Derek driving away anymore and went back inside. Stiles was standing in the hall, emotionless.

"You need to sleep," Scott said.

"I know," Stiles replied, but didn't move.

"I mean it," Scott said with purpose. "Let's go to your room. It's a Sunday, anyway. You can sleep in the rest of the day."

"Yeah," Stiles replied, but Scott wasn't sure he hadn't really heard him. Scott guided Stiles to his room, where Stiles immediately went to his bed and curled up in his sheets. Scott took the other side, getting comfortable as well. He might as well get some sleep as well.

Scott wasn't sure how long it was before tiles fell asleep, but he could feel it just a few moments before he himself started to drift off. His mind was still racing with all the thoughts over what had happened, however. It didn't sound like the Wendigos were much of a problem anymore, but the mouthless man sounded concerning, even if he hadn't attacked Stiles. And Stiles… everything that had happened to him…

Scott's last thought as he drifted to sleep was over whether or not Derek was right about Stiles not being just some normal human.