Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I hope you all like this one!

Chapter 2

Amy woke up feeling more energized than she had ever felt in her entire life. It was her first morning, her first real morning, as a werewolf. She shot into a seated position, the mattress springs squeaking loudly against the shift in her weight, with the quickness of a jackrabbit that had just consumed five Red Bulls.

Derek wasn't next to her. He had gone to sleep beside her, and now he was missing. Apparently, she was more in control of her new powers than she was even aware of – in a subconscious response to these wonderings, her ears sifted through the sounds in the apartment, like a radio being tuned, to focus in on Derek's low voice. He was in the kitchen, talking to people. Talking to Scott and Stiles. Amy hastily extricated herself from the thicket of sheets and jolted towards the sounds, only realizing in retrospect that she was pants-less, clad only in an oversized shirt.

Oh well. She looked down to make sure that everything crucial was under control. When she was certain that it was, she made her presence known by clearing her throat loudly.

"Amy!" Stiles exclaimed. Though his voice sounded just as it always did, she knew, she knew that beneath his relief laid disappointment. They had been the only humans. Not anymore.

"Stiles!" she mimicked. They collapsed into a tight embrace. He smelled like laundry detergent, Axe body wash, and orange soda.

He seemed to have gotten a bit of her hair in his mouth, and after expelling by dramatically blowing air through his pursed lips, he said, "We were so worried."

They broke apart and Amy went to hug Scott, all the while saying, "I know. Apparently it's a miracle I'm alive." He smelled like Allison, bacon, and leaves.

"Well, I'm sure glad you are," Scott mumbled.

"Yeah, and I'm sure the rest of Beacon Hills oughtta be too," Stiles quipped. "Before yesterday, I never really knew what a man on the verge of mass murder looked like. It's a look I'll be sure to never forget so I can avoid it next time I see it."

Initially, Amy furrowed her brows in confusion, but one glance at Derek's sheepish scowl told her all she needed to know. It was a bit awkward to express the affection she wanted to express in front of Scott and Stiles, so she stayed firmly rooted in place and fought the inclination to approach him. One pointed look conveyed everything that needed to be said and the scowl fell away from his face.

"So, what were you guys talking about while I was asleep? Also, what time is it?"

"It's ten, and we were talking about where to go from here," Stiles answered promptly.

"First, I wanna know how we're gonna explain my miraculous recovery to… well, everyone."

"It's gonna be hard to pull off, but luckily I have an in at the hospital and Stiles has an in with the police force. We'll try to take care of it. Honestly, that's the least of our concerns at the moment," Scott said.

"I know, I know, we have to deal with the Argents," Amy muttered tersely.

"You know how I feel about having to 'deal with' the Argents," Scott replied.

"Dude, Gerard stabbed me and left me for dead."

"Yeah, and obviously I'm pissed about that and they can't get away with it, but he's still Allison's grandfather…"

"Scott, you need to see," Derek started urgently, speaking for the first time, "it is us against them. It was clear before, and it couldn't be any clearer now."

Scott sighed loudly, clearly conflicted, and rolled his neck in exasperation. "I know. I know. But an all-out war…"

"I am going to kill Gerard Argent. Ideally, in the most painful way I can think of. End of story. Either you're with me, or against me."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Stiles cut in, jumping between them with arms raised in a pacifying manner. "Let's just chill for a sec with the ultimatums, okay?"

"Stiles, I'm with Derek on this one," Amy said somberly. "They will kill us without hesitation. They will kill you. It doesn't matter whether or not you're a werewolf at this point, so long as you're aligned with us you're in danger. It's not even about revenge anymore, it's about self-preservation."

"You're making a lot of big statements there, Ames," Stiles said nervously. He was very jittery, shifting his weight from foot to foot as his mind worked desperately to decipher the best course of action.

"I will help you how I can," Scott began, "Stiles and I will get the cops and the hospital off Amy's back. And I won't get in your way. But I can't really actively help you. Allison means the world to me, and if I have to stop seeing her… I don't think I can do it…" Derek and Amy understood love. Scott knew they did, which was why he couldn't comprehend why they didn't also understand the precariousness of his situation.

Amy's features were blank as she stared at him in a mixture of annoyance and sympathy. "Fine," she said shortly. "Then we need at least two new werewolves."

"You're not really gonna start turning people?!" Stiles exclaimed in disbelief.

"You bet I am," Derek deadpanned.

"You can't," Scott whined. "You can't ruin people's lives like this, it's not right."

"I'm only going to turn people who want to be turned."

"And how are you going to manage that?" Stiles questioned manically. "'Oh hey, wanna be turned into a werewolf? Sure, you may turn into a raging, bloodthirsty monster every full moon, but it's got some other perks. Oh yeah, and by the way – werewolves exist!' Somehow I don't see that working out."

"Obviously it will be a bit tricky, but it won't be impossible. I'll target people who would be better off with the bite."

"Who's to say whether or not someone will be better off, Derek?" Scott hissed. "That's not for you to determine! Look at me, this ruined my life! Yeah, maybe it got rid of my asthma, but I have a hellova lot of other issues that could have been avoided if I were human!"

"That's what you think now, but I promise you always feel this way," he said, voice monotone.

"I'm sorry, but that's not comforting at all."

"I don't care whether or not you find it 'comforting,' it's the truth. And besides, I'm not asking your opinion on this. I'm just telling you what I'm going to do."

"Amy, you're okay with this?" Stiles inquired in confusion. The Amy he knew wouldn't sit back and let innocent people be dragged into this mess. The Amy he knew wouldn't wish their predicament on other people, especially not when they didn't know what they were getting into.

As if she could read his mind, she replied, "As long as they are duly warned, I don't see the problem. That's what you guys did for me – you warned me, and I chose to become part of this."

"Yeah, and don't you wish you hadn't?" he countered insistently.

"In some ways yes, in others no. I didn't really choose to become a werewolf, and yet here I am. I would have appreciated a choice."

The three males flitted their gazes at one another anxiously. Everyone knew that the choice had been death or becoming a werewolf. Stiles and Scott faulted Derek for many things, but they certainly did not fault him for turning Amy.

"I guess, but… Your situation was different," Stiles tried. "I mean, you're alive."

"Right. And targeting oh, I dunno, terminally ill people might be a good idea," she reasoned.

This seemed to be news to Derek, as he snapped his head to look at her. "I don't know if that's what I was thinking exactly, but I guess something along those lines…"

"Well, it looks like you two have a lot to discuss," Scott said distastefully. "We'll leave you to it." To Amy, he more gently said, "I think you're making a mistake." Without further ado, he and Stiles exited the apartment.

When she heard the door shut (something that, before, she would have had to strain her ears to hear), Amy turned slowly to face Derek. "It might just be the two of us," she said softly. She couldn't imagine a world in which she, Scott, and Stiles weren't in this together. The two of them – they were like her brothers, and her real brother was gone. After everything they had already been through together, she absolutely hated the notion that there might be a schism in their little band of misfit high schoolers. She had already lost her family, Allison, and now it seemed that she was losing them. It terrified her for several reasons. First, because she loved them, as friends love one another, and second because it meant that Derek was everything to her. To place so much of an emotional investment in one person didn't seem wise.

But if he started a pack… It would be her pack, too. The packmembers would be her family, her friends. They would have to be, because she had no one else.

"Not for long," was Derek's brief reply.

"I know you're planning on turning Jackson, but how are you going to choose the other one?"

"You just have to be observant. Odds are, there are a number of people who would benefit from the Bite; it's just a matter of circumstance in terms of who we stumble upon first."

"Am I officially part of your pack? Even though I was technically a werewolf to begin with?"

Derek nodded curtly. "Being in a pack isn't always just about who turned you. It's largely a choice. Scott, for example, was bitten by my uncle, but he never chose to be part of his pack. I assume you choose to be part of mine." His eyes flashed red at the last part, but it wasn't in a threatening manner – and somehow she knew this. Strange though it was, she could sense that it wasn't threatening. She didn't know what it was meant to convey, exactly, but she was fairly certain that her own eyes flashed blue in response. It was as though some understanding – one that she really didn't understand – had been reached between them.

"What the heck was that?" she asked shortly after.

"It's hard to explain," he answered rather unhelpfully. "It happens sometimes when werewolves interact. It's like a dominance/submissiveness thing." He seemed a bit uncomfortable as he said the last part, as his words inevitably held an unintentional sexual connotation. Amy was equally uncomfortable, and she felt her cheeks heat up.

"Oh."

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'd like to turn Jackson as soon as possible. The sooner Gerard dies, the better. Plus, it'd be easier if I could train you all at the same time."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it'd be a waste of time to have to keep doing it over and over."

"But don't you think it might be a little bit unmanageable?"

Derek gave her a smirk. "I think I can handle you," he said smoothly.

Part of Amy felt a bit bashful about how blatantly seductive his tone was, but the other part was extremely turned on. She suspected it was the werewolf part. "Do you?" she flirted, moving closing to him.

"Definitely." He placed his hands securely on her hips and tilted his head to look down at her.

She grinned, pressed her hands against his chest, and said, "Don't get cocky, Mr. Hale – you haven't been an Alpha for very long. You're just as new as I am."

He finally broke out into a rare smile and hoisted her over his shoulder without warning. He carried her into the bedroom with great ease, as if she weighed no more than a bag of groceries, and plopped her down inelegantly on the unmade bed.

"I thought you said we don't have time to waste," she taunted.

"I think we can afford a few hours…"

Amy's eyes widened considerably. "Hours?" she repeated.

His smirk never faltering, he replied, "Trust me, you have a lot to learn about being a werewolf."

Author's note: Sorry if this is still not dramatic enough for you all, but don't worry, it will pick up! I'm really really excited to flesh out the different aspects of Amy's transformation, and I think it will be really fun to write. But let me know what you all think! At least we get to see Scott and Stiles in this chapter!