Author's Note: I hope you guys all like this chapter! Thank you so so much to everyone who reviewed the last one, I really appreciate it! Seriously, if you guys have any input/advice please let me know! I do have a plot already planned out, but I am flexible! Any ideas are more than welcome.

Chapter 7

"No!" Lydia shrieked, falling. She sank to her knees and Stiles was there, as he always had been and always would be, to catch her. He held her, pet her strawberry-blonde locks and repeated, "I'm sorry," over and over again, until the sound of his voice faded off into the darkness and the noise of cars in the distance. But he had nothing to be sorry about. It wasn't his fault.

This was the only time they had seen Lydia's masquerade of perfection falter – and it hadn't just faltered, it shattered. It had been a long time since Amy had witnessed someone in so much agony. She though perhaps the last person she had seen in such a state had been herself.

Several silent tears trailed down Allison's face, but, overall, she was incredibly composed.

And Amy felt nothing, now that the news was confirmed. It was strange, how she could be so overwhelmed with emotions one moment and so devoid of them the next. She hadn't loved Jackson, or even particularly liked him. She felt distant from Lydia, and she was angry, angry that she couldn't muster the humanity to cry like everyone else. Even Stiles, who hated Jackson, even Stiles was crying. It was strange to watch someone be destroyed like this, to wither away, and feel nothing. All she felt was frustration, frustration with the fact that she couldn't empathize. But she had before, just minutes earlier. Maybe it was just the full moon that was causing this extreme division of emotions. She prayed it was.

"No, no, no," Lydia cried. "This can't – this can't be right." She loved him. Maybe she would always love him; if she did, it would always hurt. "This can't be happening." Her sobs filled the air and no one knew what to do. It all seemed so final.

Scott, Isaac, and Derek appeared. Against the flashing blue, red, and white lights, they looked incredibly somber.

"Is it true?" Amy asked Derek.

He only nodded; his voice was caught in his throat and the words would not come. He had failed. And now, seeing Lydia, seeing them all, he saw the true effect of his failure. It was rare that Derek looked so truly mournful, but, now that he had been confronted with something tangible, guilt gnawed at him. Lydia didn't have the strength to question his and Isaac's presence, and she might never even know that he was the one to blame.

It was only when Amy locked eyes with Derek and Isaac that she felt it – the loss. Like she had been punched, like the air had been sucked out of her lungs. She had no happy recollections of Jackson to dwell on, no colorful collage of memories that flooded her brain when she thought of him, and yet she still felt a void in her chest. It as an itch, a nagging, like she had left the house without something incredibly important – no, that was wrong. Not just something incredibly important, but part of herself. This is what it feels like to lose a packmate, she realized. And she never wanted to feel it again.

Isaac felt it, too, judging by the look in his eyes. Derek's hand was on his shoulder in an uncharacteristic display of affection, as if to assure the new werewolf that he would not meet the same fate.

It dawned on her that the reaction was very delayed; Jackson had likely been dead for days, and yet she didn't feel the effect until she saw Derek. Something seemed wrong – off. And surely Derek should have sensed that one of his packmembers had died. He had always stressed how important a pack was, how it operated as one unit. They should have been the ones to find Jackson, to realize that harm had come to him, not the police.

"I want to see him," Lydia said forcefully, pushing Stiles away and wiping her eyes. "I need to see him. I won't believe it until I see…"

"They won't let you," Scott said gravely. "We tried – the only reason we were able to see him was because my mom snuck us into the morgue."

"He can't be dead," she pressed. "He can't be."

"I'm sorry," Derek said. She snapped her eyes to look at him, as if she had just realized he was there. She did not look into his eyes, but instead seemed to see through him. She didn't respond and turned back to Stiles. "Can you take me home, please?" she squeaked.

"Y-yeah of course," he replied, jumping into action. It was only a matter of seconds before he had procured his car keys and ushered her away from them, towards the flashing lights. Before he was out of sight, he shot the group a meaningful look to ensure that they knew to update him later.

Once he and Lydia were out of earshot, Scott informed them, "He was killed by hunters."

"How do you know?" Allison questioned quickly, if not defensively.

"He was cut in half," Derek snapped acidly. Hatred laced his tone – hatred towards hunters, hatred towards Allison, and hatred towards humans in general. As an Alpha, he had wronged no one. The hunters had created all of his struggles, and every action he had taken had merely been borne out of self-defense. He was not aggressive. He was not dangerous. And yet they still treated him with such ignorant contempt. They had driven him into a corner and now he felt like nothing more than the caged, snarling animal they expected him to be. For a werewolf, there was no worse feeling than being trapped. It brought out the worst in them.

"Well, he certainly wasn't killed by my family," she clarified.

"How could you know that?" Derek retorted.

"Because I've been watching them – I would have heard if they'd killed Jackson. Plus, my dad wouldn't kill him without evidence that he'd harmed someone. He may be a hunter, but he sticks to his principles."

"Your father is the least of my concerns. Gerard is the real problem. I think it's clear that he has no boundaries."

Amy bit her lip. "He was the one who stabbed me, Allison."

"I know," she said solemnly, unable to meet the other girl's eyes. "Scott told me. And I've made my decision – so has Scott, after tonight. We're going to help you, we really are. The choice was a whole lot clearer when it became obvious that my family is a threat to my friends' lives. Even if we don't agree with everything you guys are doing, we can't let this continue. But we might be more use to you if we're on the outskirts. I can at least be a sort of double agent. My dad is protecting Scott from Gerard for the time being, but he's not going to make the same exception for you guys and I can't just sit by and let him come after you."

"And if they see you here, talking to us?" Derek probed in annoyance. He didn't want her help, nor did he think they needed it. He had learned all too well that outsiders could not be trusted – there was the pack, and nothing else. If Scott wished to join them, he would accept him with open arms, but that was the extent of it. He did not want any Argent – even Allison – to be involved.

Allison shook her head, chestnut curls bouncing. "As soon as they heard about the body they went to the location where it had been found to figure out what's going on. Honestly, they didn't kill him."

"Could this mean… More hunters?" Amy questioned in panic. Derek looked equally alarmed.

"I guess it's a possibility," Allison answered after a moment. "My dad always told me that our family wasn't the only one."

"It doesn't make sense," Derek murmured, half to himself. "I haven't done anything that would put me on their radar. We're already in deep enough trouble as it is, and if more hunters come it will just be overkill."

"Great choice of words," Amy mumbled darkly.

"But it's true," he persisted. "I haven't done anything that would warrant more hunters coming after me. I turned Isaac and Jackson, but that's it – and that's no more than Peter did before."

"And me," Amy added.

"…And you."

"Didn't you tell me once that werewolves are drawn to packs – to Alphas?" Isaac interjected.

"Yeah," Derek acknowledged, immediately following his train of thought.

"So… What you're saying is maybe these new hunters know something that we don't – maybe there are about to be a whole lot more werewolves in Beacon Hills," Scott finished.

Allison, Derek, Isaac, and Amy looked at one another in trepidation. This seemed like an extremely viable explanation.

Several beats of silence passed. "What do you think Jackson was doing outside of Beacon Hills?" Amy asked quietly. She couldn't believe he was dead. She hated the thought of it, the thought that another person she used to see every day could suddenly vanish. And she had the distinct feeling that Jackson would not be the last.

Scott, on a roll, suggested, "Didn't you guys ever think that maybe Jackson never had any intention of joining your pack in the first place?"

"It might explain why I couldn't sense where he was or what was going on," Derek agreed reluctantly, as if the thought had occurred to him before.

"In any case," Amy started, "he didn't get far. Which means we don't have much time before the hunters show up here."

"We have until right after the full moon," Derek clarified. "They won't attack us before then because it's when we're at our strongest. But immediately after, we're at our weakest."

"If it's true that werewolves are drawn to a pack," Allison started, "don't you think it's weird that there haven't been any new ones in Beacon Hills? Besides the ones you turned, I mean."

"Not if the hunters killed them all before they got the chance to come here," Derek stated bluntly.

"If we're going to help you," Scott began, "you're going to have to stop turning people."

"With you, I'm done. Even without Jackson, I have enough people for a pack." Amy had to admit, this phrasing was clever of Derek. Scott's conscience would fuel his loyalty, if not for the sole reason that it would prevent more innocent people from joining this plight.

"Okay," he agreed. "But I can't be seen with you. Allison's father has been protecting me so far, so Gerard can't know that I'm associated with you."

Derek rolled his eyes in exasperation, but eventually allowed, "Fine. But other than that, you have to do what I ask."

"Alright." Scott's tone made it seem as if he'd just signed his soul over to the devil. Derek extended his hand; it hung there for a heavy moment before Scott tentatively shook it. There was a spark of electricity and their eyes both flashed their respective colors.

"What was that?" Scott asked anxiously.

"It's official. You're part of my pack."

Author's Note: I hope you liked it! Please let me know what you think, both about the story and about the show! Let me know if anyone is out of character or if anything is unclear. Thanks for reading :-)

***SPOILERS***

ALSO, ABOUT THE SHOW: I FUCKING KNEW IT. This is why Derek shouldn't trust anyone. Jesus. Tell me your thoughtsss.