Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I'm back from abroad so updates should be a bit more frequent. However, I would really love some more feedback from people! It's hard to write without knowing what you guys like/don't like! I hope you all enjoy this chapter...

Chapter 8

On the day of the full moon, Amy and Isaac were so out of control that Derek seriously contemplated calling Scott for backup. Each was experiencing a completely different array of symptoms; Isaac was furious – furious with himself, furious at the world, furious at everything that moved. Because of this, Derek insisted that Isaac stay home from school so as to avoid an unwanted bought of aggression. It was regrettably quite clear that Isaac very well might beat someone to death just for looking at him the wrong way.

Naturally, Derek urged his two fledgling packmembers to keep stress to a minimum. His express effort to keep the apartment a stress-free zone, however, devolved into complete and utter chaos fairly quickly. Isaac, after playing what was intended to be a relaxing game of Call of Duty (which, apparently, doesn't exist) on the Xbox and losing, hurdled the controller at the television. He would have shattered the screen, had Derek not stepped in and caught the projectile before it made impact.

But Isaac felt a steady sort of rage, and because of this his outbursts were easy enough to predict. Amy was more volatile in the sense that she was experiencing dramatic mood swings; she was riding a rollercoaster of highs and lows. Derek had politely asked her to calm down after she smashed a bowl of cereal earlier in the morning, and she had burst into tears. Then, when he had tried to comfort her, he had to fight to extricate himself from her wanton grasp. He was in no way opposed to such avid displays of affection, but not when Isaac was ten feet away from them. The latter, having just overcome his videogame-directed anger, had thought himself clever in warning Derek and joking that Amy was acting like a pregnant woman – his attempt at humor only earned him a vicious scratch from his female companion. He was lucky he healed quickly.

So, it was safe to say that Derek had his hands full. And when Amy accidentally shattered her seventh glass article of the day, he decided it was time to take a different approach.

"We're not gonna be able to stay here for the full moon," he said finally. "That is, if you don't want to be homeless before the night is over."

"You know, it might be easier if you teach us how to control it," Isaac pointed out snippily.

"There's not enough time."

"You could at least try," he insisted.

"You need to find an anchor – an emotion or a memory that ties you to your human self. It will make it easier for the human part to stay in control."

"What is it for you?" Isaac asked.

Derek's gaze flitted to Amy, almost apologetically. "Anger," he stated. "But it doesn't have to be that for everyone."

"Is it ever anything good?" Amy questioned.

"For some people, I imagine." He had a certain gloomy way about him, as if he knew that all his packmates would be excluded from this group of "some people." But deeper sort of sorrow buried in his eyes told her anger hadn't always been his anchor. "But it takes a while to perfect," he continued. "There's not enough time for me to teach you guys before tonight. And I think we can agree that we can't stay here."

Amy and Isaac locked eyes with one another in understanding – even to them, it was obvious that if their levels of destruction were so high at noon, they would reach untold heights once the sun went down.

"I don't really think your old house is the safest of locations, what with the Argents swarming the woods every night and pretty much using it as their headquarters nowadays," Amy pointed out.

"I have somewhere else in mind," Derek replied cryptically.

XXXXX

"Somewhere else," in Derek's words, was apparently meant to be taken literally. Because where they were now, in a deserted subway car far beneath the streets of Beacon Hills, was certainly somewhere else.

A look of sheer and utter disapproval crossed Amy's features the moment she laid eyes on the dingy site. "Are you serious?" she deadpanned, arms crossed over her chest and knee popped out. For a fleeting moment, she looked entirely like an average teenage girl.

Derek's expression, stone cold as always, preempted his response. "Yes," was all he uttered.

She and Isaac eyed the rusty car in distaste; while neither had expected a five star hotel, even this seemed to be a new low. There was a heavy bundle of chains gleaming in the flickering light, serving as an obvious reminder of what was to come.

"How did you even find this place?" Amy asked.

"I started looking underground a while ago… I thought we might need a place like this at some point – a place where you guys could change without trashing anything important or hurting anyone."

It was minutes to sundown. Amy's eyes glowed their icy blue and searched Derek's. "And what about you? What if we hurt you?"

"You won't." His replies were blunt and concise as ever. In a sense, it seemed almost as if he was reverting to the way he'd been when Amy first met him. It meant that something was on his mind, something that he hadn't yet shared with them.

But before she could continue question him, an overwhelming pain shot through her every joint. She cried out and fell to the filthy concrete floor.

"C'mon, we've gotta go," Derek stated, grabbing her around the waist and hoisting her clear off the ground and over his shoulder. Isaac followed obediently into the subway car, but his gritted teeth and hunched posture revealed that he was in an equal amount of pain. Amy screamed again, and this time it morphed, distorted, and became something else. It became a howl.

As if on cue, Isaac sank to his knees. Derek took the opportunity to leave Amy writhing in pain in order to chain Isaac up; Amy was smaller and more easily managed, so he figured he would deal with her once Isaac was secure.

The teen's eyes glowed in the darkness, the color of a dying fire. There was a snap, like all his bones were breaking, and all of a sudden he wore a different face – the face of a monster. His teeth were fangs and his jaws snapped at the empty air, but Derek was unfazed. He had never done this before, but he knew what to expect. He pulled the metal taut, cutting into Isaac's tense muscles. There was blood. He pulled even tighter.

Isaac thrashed and thrashed, but, with each link drawing blood, Derek felt confident that there was no way he was going to be able to get loose. Now, he turned back to Amy. In all the chaos, he had failed to notice that she had gone quiet; she was crouched, fully transformed, and snarling mistrustfully at him. As a female, she would be able to withstand more pain than Isaac – so, although it might be easier to secure her in the first place, it definitely would not be easier to keep her secure.

His eyes were scarlet, and he was still panting from having wrestled with Isaac. "Amy!" he yelled in a warning. His voice was a low rumble, not quite human but not exactly werewolf, either.

She launched herself at him, claws out and canines bared, and went straight for the jugular. In the tangle of nails, teeth, and hair, everything was a blur. He couldn't get a good look at her. And she was strong, perhaps stronger than he had anticipated. Eventually, he gripped her wrists tightly, driving his nails into her skin and causing rivulets of blood to drip from her veins. She fought against him, but he held her firmly.

Through the struggle, he was finally able to catch a glimpse of her face. It was something else. It was bizarre and unfamiliar. She was not beautiful anymore; she was ugly. She was a creature.

But her eyes were still beautiful, and they were the same. They were so blue.

In the background, Isaac rattled his chains noisily. The pole he was tied to creaked and trembled, threatening to fly off its hinges. Derek prayed that it wouldn't, because he wasn't going to be able to mange both of them fully transformed. He thought again that he should have called Scott.

"Amy, it's me, Derek," he growled, shaking her for good measure.

She ceased moving for half a second and studied him like a trapped animal. Her eyes bore into his and he could have sworn that he saw recognition flash in them. But what did she recognize him as? Himself or her Alpha?

It didn't matter – the look was gone as quickly as it came and soon she was trying to squirm out of his grasp once again. Hands still clamped around her wrists, he spun her around so that her arms were crossed over her chest and her back was to him. She was nearly immobile this way, but he couldn't help but think in retrospect that he'd made a horrible mistake. Her mess of brown hair obscured his vision, but his sense of sight was the least of his worries.

He could feel every one of her bones against his body, every disk in her spine and every single rib. It struck him suddenly that she was probably too thin. And lower, below his torso, he could feel the curve of her backside against the front of his jeans. He tried to ignore how good it felt as she grinded against him and he had the uncanny feeling that she knew exactly what she was doing. In fact, with her heightened senses and the fact that it was the full moon, he was wholly convinced that she knew what she was doing. He bit back a smirk, because this was something she would have done, even as a human; even in this feral state, she still enjoyed torturing him in such inappropriate ways.

She suddenly lifted her legs off the ground and pushed off one of the nearby poles, effectively throwing the pair of them back into a decaying subway seat. Derek's back absorbed the brunt of the impact, but he was able to keep Amy pressed tightly against him. As she kicked wildly, he did the first thing that came to mind in order to stop her: he sunk his sharpened teeth into the flesh at the crook of her neck.

The effect was immediate. She let out a high-pitched whimper and let her body go slack in his arms. He hauled her into a standing position and spun her around to face him, and she peered at him apologetically through her impossibly long eyelashes. He was not swayed by this display of submission, though, and proceeded to tie her up the same way he had done with Isaac.

When he was finished, she continued to stare at him and said, "I'm sorry."

He was profoundly surprised that she had mustered the ability to speak. "So you've found an anchor, then?" A trail of blood traveled down her shirt and he felt remorse because he knew it would take a couple of days for her to heal.

"My father."

Nothing else needed to be explained. He nodded sharply and turned his head Isaac, who had also calmed down significantly. "And you?"

"Fear. I felt it all the time before, and I never want to feel it again."

Derek was sure that he couldn't promise him he wouldn't, so he only sighed loudly. Completely exhausted, he sank into one of the dilapidated seats and observed his handiwork. While his two protégés were still very much in their werewolf forms, it seemed like they had gotten a handle on their tempers. Derek couldn't help but feel a swell of pride – maybe he wasn't as awful an Alpha as he'd thought he was.

Author's Note: Let me know what you thought! Of the chapter and of the show! What do you guys think of my changes to season 2? And what did you think of Jennifer in the last episode? Please please please please review!