Author's note: Hey guys! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I really appreciate it! It's seems like you guys aren't too bothered by the fact that this story is now super AU, and I'm really glad for that! I hope you all like this chapter.

Chapter 4

"We can't just barge in there!" Amy exclaimed, keeping her tone low in order to avoid detection.

"I know that, obviously," Derek replied with a customary, exasperated roll of his eyes. "We have to wait for the right moment and observe him for a bit. But he definitely has potential."

She whirled her head back towards the window to look at him again, only to see that he hadn't moved from his prone position in the corner. He didn't look particularly ambitious. "Potential?" she repeated wryly.

"Potential as in his life would be made better by the bite," Derek clarified.

"Oh." That much seemed true. "Poor kid," she mumbled under her breath. She had probably seen him everyday at school, and yet she had absolutely no idea that he lived under such horrible circumstances. What's more, she really didn't even know who he was. She felt a jab of guilt pierce her chest. It dawned on her then that she and her friends were so consumed by their own trials and tribulations that they failed to realize that others also endured hardships of their own.

Derek looked at her tranquilly, able to sense the pity she was feeling. He felt the same, and he was reminded of one of the main reasons why he cared for her so; despite everything, despite all the awful things that had happened as of late, she retained her human empathy. But she was still only a newborn werewolf – he hoped she wouldn't lose this quality. For many years, he had lost it, but little by little it seemed to be slowly returning, largely because of her. Since his family had perished in that fire those many years ago, he had always thought that he was incapable of being "fixed" and scoffed at the very notion of it. But maybe he had been wrong. He needed to be emotionally stable now, now that others looked to him for guidance, and maybe he shouldn't have been so confident that his like would forever be so dismal.

But now was not the time for optimism. He wasn't just starting a pack or creating a family – he was building an army. He was preparing for war.

Eventually, the father ceased his bombardment of dishware and stomped over to his son. Amy flinched visibly as he grabbed him by his curly mop of hair and dragged him out of view, presumably to execute an even more atrocious form of abuse. They heard his body thump against wood as he was dragged down a flight of stairs, at which point it became difficult to decipher exactly what they were hearing. One thing that cut through the cement walls of the basement, though, was the sound of screaming.

Derek quickly decided that it was time to go, as Amy was becoming more and more emotionally disturbed by the second.

"Let's get out of here," he prompted, ushering her away from the house.

"You're sure we can't do something now?" Her voice was pleading.

"We can't." He sounded almost disappointed. "We have to wait until the right time. As soon as I'm sure that this is a good idea I'll change him, I promise." I promise. He never would have added that last bit before. He was changing.

When they got back to their dark apartment, Derek tried not to wince as they crossed the threshold. It still felt as though that part of the building was haunted. Once they climbed upstairs, Amy immediately stated that she needed to take a shower.

She ran all the taps in the bathroom to disguise what was really going on: she was crying. She was crying and she didn't want him to know, and it wasn't hard to figure out why. He didn't even need to hear her to know. What they had seen had brought back memories of her own father. Perhaps it was just human nature – once you saw how bad some people had it, it wasn't hard to appreciate your own situation. And her father hadn't been like this boy's, not at all. He knew her father had been harsh and sometimes cruel, but he had loved her and would never have treated her like that.

Derek's suspicions were exactly right. Amy tried not to let the tears prick her eyes, she really did. And she thought she was past this, past this spontaneous crying and this feeling that something was looming over her, that some tragedy was following her so closely that she could never escape it. She was suffocating, the walls were closing in. The cold tile grew closer and the water was drowning her and she coughed, she coughed, but she could not get any air. Suddenly, she wasn't in the shower anymore and she was on the bed. And she was shaking violently, she was shaking and she couldn't get warm. Her heart was racing faster than it ever had, faster than anyone's heart should ever race, and yet she was still so incredibly cold. It felt like it was hammering against her ribcage, like it was beating so quickly that it was about to explode. And she feared that it would.

"Amy, Amy, snap out of it!" Derek's voice cut through the terror and whirl of sensations. She was hyperventilating. She felt that her chest was being crushed under an enormous pressure. Her thin, shivering form was wrapped in a towel and he held her close to his body, trying to share his heat. He was soaking wet, but still warm.

And eventually, the world stopped trembling and she realized where she was and, more importantly, that she was safe. As the intense dizziness wore off she clutched Derek for dear life. She had stopped crying, she had stopped shaking, and now her body was too fatigued to do anything else but collapse onto him.

"What's wrong with me?" she mumbled, her voice strained.

"I'm not sure," he replied softly.

"Was that a side effect of the transformation?"

He chewed his lower lip, as if he didn't want to share his thoughts with her. If it was a side effect, it certainly wasn't one that he had ever encountered before. The hesitance in his reaction was regrettably apparent.

"What?" she questioned.

"I don't think that was a side effect," he said. "I think that was a panic attack."

"A panic attack?" she repeated, as if he had betrayed her. "I don't get panic attacks."

"You might." He looked at her as if she was a strange sight. Just hours ago she had been back to her old self and playfully mocking him, and now she looked like a wounded bird. He wondered for how much longer she would oscillate between these two extremes. "Maybe it is a side effect," he tried to reassure her. "Your body is probably stressed from everything that's happening. I'm not surprised that this happened, to be honest. You've been through a lot in a short period of time."

"It wasn't a panic attack," she insisted. It wasn't. She was strong.

"Fine, it wasn't a panic attack. But I think I'm going to take care of the new kid by myself. You need to take it easy. And before you even try to protest – which I know you will – this is not negotiable."

"You have no right to tell me what to do, you're not my parent!" She pulled away from him, instantly missing the warmth.

"About this, yeah, I do," he stated calmly. "You have enough on your plate with the full moon coming up. You don't need any more stress."

"I don't need you to protect me," she scoffed.

Derek almost laughed in her face at the naivety of her comment. "Regardless of whether or not you think that, it's still my responsibility as an Alpha."

Both he and Amy knew that wasn't the only reason, and she was secretly glad that he was protective of her. It felt nice to know that someone on this earth genuinely cared about her.

"I'm going to follow him home from school tomorrow and you're going to stay here, okay?"

"I don't need to be treated like something is wrong with me."

"Amy, I shouldn't have even had you come tonight in the first place. It's too soon after everything. I should have known better."

"I'm fine."

"You're clearly not, after what just happened. I had to carry you out of the shower – you were freaking out."

She stayed silent. Maybe he was right. "Okay, but what am I supposed to do all day? Just sit around and wait for you to come back?"

"I don't know, Amy, do I look like a camp counselor to you?" he said dryly. "You're a big girl, I trust you can figure it out."

XXXXX

The next afternoon, Derek left the apartment to track their intended packmate as soon as school let out. It had been a fairly boring day, all things considered, until she received a call from Stiles.

"What's up?" she answered.

"We need to talk. Now."

"Why, what happened?"

"Scott and I are on our way over. Is Derek there?"

"No, actually."

"Even better. See you soon."

Now thoroughly perplexed – and, not to mention, worried – Amy could do nothing but wait for her friends to arrive. It was only a matter of minutes before she heard Stiles' dodgy Jeep wheeze to a halt outside the building, followed by two sets of sneakers shuffling against the pavement. She was able to anticipate their knocking before Stiles' fist ever came in contact with the wood; she opened the door abruptly and nearly sent him tumbling to the ground. Scott seemed mildly impressed, but the look was fleeting and he soon pushed his way past Stiles' precariously balanced figure and up the stairs.

"Sure, come on in," she muttered in his wake. Stiles followed Scott, and their friend begrudgingly trailed behind.

Once within the confines of Amy and Derek's apartment, Scott burst out, "Jackson wasn't in school today."

Trying to play it cool, Amy replied, "So?"

"I know you guys turned him!"

Still floundering to remain calm, she insisted, "I don't know what would make you say that."

"C'mon, we're not stupid," Stiles scoffed. He glanced tauntingly to Scott and continued, "At least I'm not." Clearly, he was trying to lighten the mood, as his friend's emotions now threatened to run out of control.

"Stop it Stiles, now's not the time! Do you have any idea what you guys have done?!"

"Look, Derek made the judgment call, not me. If you have an issue with it, take it up with him."

"Aha!" Stiles exclaimed triumphantly. "So you did turn him!"

"What – no – that's not…" Amy trailed off nervously, obviously caught in her lie. "Okay, fine, we did, but so what? He's probably just feeling a little sick, nothing to be alarmed about. Didn't you feel weird after you were first bitten?"

"Yeah, but that's beside the point!" Scott pressed. "I warned you, I told you guys not to do it. We can't trust Jackson, we really can't."

"It's too late now…" Stiles murmured.

"No shit! And now – as if things weren't bad enough to begin with – something even worse is gonna happen! Where is Derek right now."

Amy shrugged nonchalantly, but her heart rate betrayed her. Scott snapped his head to look at Stiles, the gears in his brain slowly turning. He knew Derek, and he knew that he wouldn't leave Amy alone unless he was going to do something… dangerous. "We've gotta find him."

"Okay," he agreed.

"Stiles, wait." She lightly touched his upper arm, causing him to stop abruptly in his tracks. Scott was already gone.

"I just wanted to talk to you for a sec."

He made a pained expression and looked towards the door. "Can't it wait?"

"Not really." Her tone made him give her his full attention.

"What is it?" he asked more gently, searching her eyes for some sort of explanation.

"You told me once," she started, swallowing heavily. "You told me once that you used to get panic attacks."

Stiles wet his lips and looked away briefly, as if he were embarrassed. "Yeah?"

"I think I might have gotten one yesterday… What does it feel like?" she asked in a hushed voice.

He looked towards the ceiling and let out a mirthless laugh. How could he even begin to describe what it felt like? "You'll know it when you feel it," was the best he could manage.

"I felt like I was drowning, like I couldn't breathe. Like I was going to die."

"That sounds about right," he replied darkly. Amy's big blue eyes swam with emotion, and she looked lost; at that moment he truly wanted to help her, but didn't know how. "Look, if it happens again or gets really bad, you could probably get a doctor to prescribe you something."

Now it was her turn to laugh humorlessly. "I doubt it'll work on me."

Oh, how he had almost forgotten. They were not so alike anymore, at least not in this one, very important way.

Scott honked the horn loudly and the noise caused the pair to break out of their heart-to-heart. "We can talk about this more later if you want, but right now I really have to go," he told her.

"Okay," she finally allowed. "But please, just trust me on this one – Derek knows what he's doing, and he needs to do this. We need him to do this. There's no other way. Sacrifices have to be made."

"But these are people's lives, Amy!"

"Yeah, and these are our lives, Stiles, and without this we will die!"

They had clearly reached a moral impasse. He held her gaze for a moment longer, before finally slipping out the door.

Author's note: What do you all think of the story so far? The show? Let me know!