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Chapter 21

THE NIGHT OF THE FULL MOON, 11:14 PM

Amy, Scott, and Stiles sat in the hallway of Beacon Hills Hospital, watching Allison sob hysterically into her father's arms under the institutionalized lighting.

It was a moment they had all been waiting for, and yet no one was truly ready for it.

None of them had warned Allison that this would happen, but they had all known it was imminent.

Should they have told her? Was it right to keep her in the dark? They did not know – however much they had already been through, this was new territory. This, this confusing and tragic combination of guilt and sympathy was something they didn't yet know how to deal with. They had done it to protect her, but they realized now that nothing could have protected her.

As they sat, helpless, Scott and Stiles could not help but recall the last time they had been in this position. They had lost so many friends, and their friends had lost so many. They were all so damaged.

Scott wanted to hold Allison, to run to her and tell her how sorry he was, how he wished it didn't have to be like this, but he could not. He could only sit, frozen, and watch as she unraveled before his very eyes, all the while thinking he was the reason for it.

Amy empathized with her friend; she remembered all too well the crippling pain of losing a parent, and it still stung to even think about it. But other matters were weighing heavily on her mind.

THREE HOURS EARLIER

"You want to split up?" Isaac asked incredulously. They were sitting at the counter in Derek's apartment, which had become their customary meeting space.

"Hear me out," said Scott. "There's seven of us – splitting up will let us cover more ground, and we'll be in contact the whole time in case something happens. The Kanima may be strong, but I highly doubt it'll take all of us to bring it down, or at least scare it off. It ran away pretty quick when I walked in on it last time."

"He's right," Allison agreed. "It makes sense for us to stay with Scott and for you guys to stick around my house to see if anyone in my family has anything to do with the Kanima. I hate to admit it and I don't think my dad would ever do something that extreme, but my gr – Gerard is another story. That way if the Kanima's here we can deal with it, and if you see anything suspicious at my house we'll at least know who is or isn't controlling it."

Little did Allison know, her friends were in fact very eager to keep her out of her house the night of the full moon, and so they were more receptive to this suggestion than they might normally have been.

"So what's the split?" Stiles questioned.

"You, me, Scott, and Amy? And Derek, Isaac, and Lyssa?" Allison proposed.

"Sounds good to me," Scott replied.

Before responding, Amy cast an ominous glance at Derek, urging him to remember to keep an eye on Lyssa. "That's fine," she said eventually.

It was generally expected that Derek spoke for Isaac and Lyssa as well as himself. Amy was the only one who was unpredictable at this point in time, especially since she had been staying at Stiles' house for over a week.

"Alright," Derek conceded begrudgingly. "But we check-in with each other every hour, understood?"

Stiles smirked roguishly. "Aye aye, Cap'n."

Derek glared daggers at him, but said nothing.

"You think it's a good idea to keep the two humans together?" Lyssa interjected, primarily addressing Derek. "That's, like, double the handicap. Shouldn't we separate them?"

"I stay with Scott," Allison stated firmly, crinkling her nose in objection at Lyssa's use of the word 'handicap.'

"So do I," said Stiles, with an equal level of vehemence.

Lyssa shrugged somewhat uncomprehendingly, as if she thought they were being illogical. "Fine, suit yourselves."

Derek had anticipated this response – as much as they acted as a pack, he always knew that Allison and Stiles' loyalty was wholly contingent on Scott's. He tried not to let this bother him. Deep down, he genuinely believed that humans had no place in this fight – other than as the opponents, that is. However, he also knew that he could never voice this opinion without risking losing Scott altogether, and try as he might he could not deny that the two had proved themselves valuable to their cause in the past. But still, his family's teachings were hard to shake.

"I'll text you at nine, Amy," said Derek. "If you don't answer, I'll call, and if you don't hear from me, call me. We'll do this every hour until dawn."

"Alright," she agreed.

SCOTT'S HOUSE

Stiles, Amy, Allison, and Scott sat around the latter's bedroom, half-watching Netflix to pass the time. There was a palpable air of anticipation in the room, and each of the four was absorbed in their own individual worries.

The house was eerily vacant, which brought Scott's thoughts to his absent mother, who was currently working her nightly shift at the hospital. She and Scott had barely spoken since he'd saved her from the Kanima. She didn't ask him about it, and he didn't bring it up – they just carried on as though it had never happened. He suspected this silence was likely just a temporary dam, and that the questions would flood out all at once when she managed to wrap her head around what she had witnessed.

Still, he felt a void in his chest. For the longest time after his father had left, it had been them against the world – now, she looked at him like she didn't even know him.

Allison, too, was worried about her family, but in an entirely different sense. She prayed that they weren't involved with this Kanima business, so much so that she was somewhat relieved not to be stationed at her own home. If it was true, she didn't want to see it.

The faith she had in them, in her upbringing, and in her own blood was dangling in the balance. It had been severely fractured by the realization that they were hunters and had killed so many, but this would be a new level of deceit. If they could act so evilly – the people who had raised her, people she loved – what did that mean for her? Was she destined for this same descent? The same one as her grandfather? As her aunt? What if she couldn't escape it? What if it was just part of being an Argent, part of who she was?

She tried not to let herself think this way. Nothing was inescapable. There was no such thing as destiny. Hunting was not genetic. Plus, her family killed monsters, not collaborated with them. But they tried to kill Scott, part of her brain insisted, and Scott was certainly not a monster.

Her mother's voice rang in her ears, and she said, "Not yet."

But she wasn't like her family – she wasn't a hunter. Not yet.

Stiles and Amy were worried about something that was a bit more pressing: the outcome of whatever was about to occur. They had spoken about it before, at his house. They had discussed it in the dark, in the dead of night, when everyone else was asleep, when they were alone and confronted with their own fears. It haunted them. They were the only ones who understood, understood how precarious this arrangement truly was. One fissure… one fissure and it could fall apart.

They were a pack, yes – for now. But alliances within the pack were stronger than the pack as a whole. One internal rift could bring the entire structure crashing down.

One internal rift, like the one was likely to happen this very night.

No one seemed to realize it except them, but everything depended on Allison. She was about to be faced with several starkly different paths, and they could only hope that she would choose the right ones.

"What if the whole thing just disintegrates?" Amy whispered to Stiles, sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed. The moonlight exaggerated the shadows in her face, making her look exceptionally vexed. Her flashing eyes were earnest in their concern.

Stiles sighed and ran a hand over his hair, just as worried. He sat up against his headboard. "We're screwed. You and I both know how the pieces will fall."

"If Allison comes to hate Scott, Scott will hate Derek."

"Exactly."

"And you will side with Scott…"

"And you'll side with Derek..."

"And we'll be pitted against each other."

They shared a long, terrified look. They were very close friends, but they had relationships that ran even deeper than their friendship. Scott was Stiles' brother in all but blood, and despite their differences, Amy needed Derek as much as she needed her lungs to breathe. They could not betray them. Their only option was to follow. It didn't really matter if they agreed or disagreed – they weren't the ones in charge. They weren't the ones deciding this.

"And if we're pulled apart like that…"

"We'll all be vulnerable," Stiles finished, nodding blankly.

THE ARGENTS'

Derek, Lyssa, and Isaac sat their Alpha's black Camaro, utterly bored. They were parked across the street from the Argent residence, within earshot of anything noteworthy.

Isaac took a loud sip of soda. "Well, this is some fascinating stakeout," he drawled from the backseat. "I don't get it," he went on, "we're a bunch of werewolves. We don't need to be sitting here like we're in some buddy cop show."

Derek rolled his eyes; somehow, there seemed to be an inverse correlation between how many people were around and how snarky Isaac was. "What, you think we should go busting into a house full of hunters?"

"No, but maybe we should try to get closer to see what's going on."

"Sometimes subtly is the best option," Derek told him dryly, eyes zeroed in on the enormous brick McMansion.

"Subtly," Isaac snorted. "Right. 'Cause three werewolves packed into a sports car is the picture of subtly."

"Shut up."

"Maybe he's right," Lyssa added tentatively. "It's been an hour and… nothing. She's got to have started to change by now, right?"

"I don't know," Derek admitted. "It's been cloudy."

"How's it going with the B-team?" Isaac asked.

"Nothing."

"Doesn't that strike you as suspicious?" Lyssa prodded. "Maybe they know we're out here. Hunters are pretty good at knowing when they're being –"

Before Lyssa could even finish her sentence, something human-size plummeted onto the roof of the car with all the force of an atomic bomb. She shrieked in surprise, while Derek cursed loudly.

Even through the clamor, Isaac was able to frantically quip, "That's gonna leave a dent!"

Derek gritted his teeth and threw the gear into drive, trying not to panic as he heard the sound of claws peeling the metal from his car. He decked it down the street, but the scratching noise did not cease – whatever had sunken its talons into his beloved Camaro (and he had a strong suspicion it was the Kanima) showed no sign of loosening its grip.

SCOTT'S HOUSE

At around 10:45 PM, Allison's cell began to ring unexpectedly. She glanced at the screen to see it was her father calling, before promptly hitting ignore.

"It's just my dad," she nonchalantly informed her comrades. The three wore identical looks of suppressed horror.

It wasn't until Mr. Argent's third attempt to reach her that she finally answered the phone.

"What is it, Dad?" she demanded in exasperation.

"You need to come to the hospital right now," Amy and Scott heard him say, tone deathly grave.

Allison's features fell into a look of total fear. "What is it?" she asked quietly.

"It's your mom," he said. "I'll explain when you get here – just come now."

"Okay," Allison squeaked, trying to blink back premature tears of dread. She hung up the phone and said, "We need to go to the hospital."

"Why?" Stiles asked, already knowing the answer.

"Something about my mom," she said vacantly.

"Alright. I'll drive," he volunteered.

It wasn't more than a minute before the four of them were loaded into his Jeep. Throughout the trip, Allison stared numbly out the window with no expression on her face.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Scott lied, trying to soothe her by putting his arm around her shoulders.

She didn't shrug him off, but didn't reciprocate the contact, either. "I've never heard my dad sound so scared," she said.

BEACON HILLS HOSPITAL

And so, these were the events that brought them to the hospital at 11:14 PM.

They couldn't hear exactly what her dad said to her when they arrived, but they didn't need to. As soon as the two faced one another, Allison's knees gave out completely. She would have collapsed to the ground, had he not caught her.

Allison's mother had driven a knife straight through her own heart. No pills, no gunshot, but lots of blood. So much blood. As much blood as she had ever seen.

There was even a note.

But none of it made sense, not even in Allison's grief-stricken mind. Her mother would not kill herself. She just wouldn't. Hunters didn't kill themselves. There had to be some other explanation.

Stiles, Scott, and Amy were horrified into a rigid silence. They could conjure no words of comfort because they knew they roles they had played. They had been duplicitous enough already, they thought, not to pretend they were as shocked as she was.

It was quarter past eleven, and Amy still hadn't heard anything from Derek. No text. No call. Anxiousness seeped into the pit of her stomach – she didn't know how much more stress she could take before her body shut down entirely. This, combined with the full moon's constant throb begging her to change, put her on a sharp edge.

She didn't know whether or not to voice her concern about Derek and the others to Scott and Stiles. She didn't want to seem selfish or like she was ignoring Allison's sorrow, but at the same time she couldn't help but think the worst.

"I haven't heard anything from Derek," she whispered to Stiles. "Should I try calling?"

Stiles nervously glanced at Scott out of the corner of his eye, and then at Allison. They didn't seem to be paying attention to them. "Try texting," he answered. "Now's not the best time to make a phone call."

She did as she was instructed. Five minutes later, still no response. "Nothing," she told Stiles, holding out her phone in futility.

Allison was now sitting in the room with her mother's body, her dad trying uselessly to calm her down.

Stiles' tore his eyes away from this scene to look at Amy. His expression darkened, conveying his concern. "Call."

No answer. She called Isaac.

"Hello? Amy?" came a muffled and frenzied reply.

"Isaac?"

"Yeah, so, big issue."

Amy stood, a shockwave of panic shooting through her limbs. "What happened?"

"Lyssa and I are okay," he prefaced, voice cracking, "but it took Derek."

"It?"

"The Kanima."

Author's Note: Please review! Loads happened in this chapter!