I did the first thing that came to mind - I ran. It was probably not the most sensible idea seeing as the image of a panicked, heavily breathing girl sprinting down hospital corridors covered in tiny flakes of glass was probably going to arouse suspicion.

My mind was going something like this: Run. Shit. Alpha. Hale. Car keys. Stiles. Ouch. Breathe. Car keys.

Turning a corner at rapid speed, I almost fell over my parents who were walking from reception towards the way I had come from.
My Dad grabbed my shoulders and I shuddered to a halt, gasping for breath and choking on words that wouldn't leave my mouth.
"What's going on? What's the matter? Why are you-?" My Mom started to interrogate, but stopped abruptly as I fell to the floor, the burn throbbing in my legs and chest. "Emily? Are you okay? Why are you covered in glass?!"
Ignore the pain. Ignore it. There are more important things at work here. Get a grip.
Leaning my back against the cold, white wall, I stretched out my legs and managed to form a complete sentence, "Car keys, please Dad."
"Um, not before you tell us what's got you in such a panic," Dad replied, kneeling next to me and pushing my hair back from my flushed face. He gave me such a stare that I almost told him. Almost. Think quick.

"Just, uh… Got a call from Jane. I need to help her with… something. Homework. School. Stuff," I said through slow, deep breaths.
"Homework, school, stuff?" Dad raised his eyebrows in disbelief. I would have panicked at trying to figure out another excuse, but there was an understanding frown tugging down the corners of his mouth. His eyes ran over the dusting of broken glass that topped my shoulders like snow.
"Please, it's important," I plead, holding out my hands like I was begging.

As my Dad tugged the keys out of his pocket and placed them in my hands, Mom put her hand on his shoulder.
"Nate, what are you doing? She can't drive like this!" She exclaimed in protest, but Dad clasped his hands over mine and nodded at me. An unspoken conversation passed between our eyes. I wondered if he understood bigger things than he was letting on. Whatever he knew, in that moment, he was telling me that I had get going.
"Stay safe," he whispered, not loud enough for Mom to hear. I nodded, feeling the lump in my throat. Dad stood, helping me up with him.
"Thank you," I said, forcing a smile on to my face. I kissed both of them on the cheek before turning and heading with quick strides towards the exit.

…

At every red light I met on the drive over to the graveyard, I tried to ring Stiles, Allison or Scott, but didn't get through to any of them. The events were already in motion – I could already be too late to stop any of it happening. I replayed the scenes from my vision in my head. There was Scott getting punctured by an arrow… but he can heal, so he shouldn't be my priority. The only scary thing he'll face tonight is Allison if she sees him in werewolf form. Then there was Derek and Kate, the veterans of this feud between the Argents and the Hales. A powerful werewolf vs a skilled hunter – not sure I wanted to get involved with that fight. And finally, Stiles. The shadow that I had seen him cowering from was surely going to be Peter Hale, aka, the Alpha. If I could help with this fight in any way possible, that's the situation where I could do the most benefit.

The graveyard was empty, as far as I could see through the giant iron gates that blocked me from entering. I sighed, and pulled my sleeves down to cover my hands. Of course, there had to be a huge gate that I had to climb over. It was either this or go roaming about in the forest for the back entrance, and with 3 potential werewolves running about, I'd rather not have to pick that option. Luckily, the gaps between the footholds weren't too big – I just pretended that I was doing the rock climbing wall we have in gym class.

Dropping down on the other side, I cast my eyes around the bleak and chilling graveyard. The fog clung to my boots and it took a good few seconds for me to gather my courage before I started walking. My footsteps crunching on the gravel were all I could hear except for the occasional gust of wind that whispered in between the rows of headstones. My heart was pounding against my ribs. Should I call out for Stiles? But if he was following Derek and Scott through the forest, then he might be the last to arrive.

The graveyard was set out like a giant square, with a cross roads meeting at the centre. Gnarled trees sprung out of the ground like they had attempted to claw their way towards the sun. I was headed towards the centre, where I was bound to have a better view of everything, when the first howl rang out in the night air. My whole body tensed up, afraid to move. That didn't sound too far off. They're here. It's happening.

I counted to ten to allow myself time to panic, then I forced myself to shut off my fear and set off at a brisk jog, digging my fingernails into my palms. A second howl rang out closer. I had to pretend I wasn't scared, although my heart was almost out of my chest with fright.

I was running blindly through the darkness when out of nowhere, a large figure collided into me, pushing me roughly onto the ground and collapsing on top of me. My only-just-healed dislocated shoulder screamed with agony. I wanted to let out a scream, but it got stuck in my throat. I wildly kicked and shoved until I was out from underneath the heavy, black-clothed figure.

He lifted his head. My fear was replaced with annoyance almost immediately.
"Derek, you idiot!" I scolded him in a high pitched whisper, "My shoulder! Could you not see me running!"
Derek blinked before setting his face back into his usual frown. He leapt to the ground with animal-like agility, leaving me to wipe the gravel off my grazed hands and fumble to my feet. I massaged my shoulder, grimacing with discomfort.
"Didn't see you," was all he said.
Scott appeared on the path behind him, slowing to a stop clumsily as if he'd been running hard.
"Emily?! What- uh… what-" Scott gasped, very confused.

Before I could answer, they both winced hard, doubling over and clawing at their ears. I saw the glow of yellow and blue eyes and took a hasty step backwards, hitting my thighs on a gravestone.
"Scott… Derek… Come on, guys. Fight it! Please!" My voice wavers as I try to save my skin.
It lasts another 30 seconds or so, and I didn't dare let my breath go until they were both standing normally, sweating and panting.
"It's Kate. She's got these high pitched beacons that only you guys can hear, almost like a… um, dog… whistle…" I bit my lip to stop myself smiling at Derek's glare. This is not the time to let my guard down.
"We figured," Scott replied and wiped at his hair, exhausted, "We couldn't help but follow it all the way here from my house."
"Where's Stiles?" I ask.
"Stiles? He's not here," Derek says, leaning his head to one side, "How did you know we'd be here anyway, Emily?" He says my name like an accusation and it sends a twinge of anger down my jaw.
"Saw it in a vision. Not the point. I'm here now. I saw Kate and you, Derek, fighting; Allison firing an arrow into Scott's leg; and Stiles cowering by one of these creepy trees from, oh- get this- I found the Alpha." My nonchalance would have been funny in any other situation where we weren't in serious danger.
"What?!" The boys both cry out, rounding on me.
"Woah, woah," I leant back, unable to move because of the headstone behind me, "Cutting a long story short because, you know, at any moment, Kate and Allison are going to be shooting at us – I was at the hospital, I saw a guy who's name was Peter Hale, followed him in a weird trance thing, found him paralysed and covered in burns, then I find out that I can't physically touch him whatsoever - which is really weird, you're going to have to clue me in on that one later - but anyway, he transformed and jumped out the window when Kate's signals went off. And then I came here. Capiche?"

They blinked at me with slacked jaws.
"Are you kidding? My uncle? But he was left for dead in that hospital!" Derek exclaimed, throwing his hands up and beginning to pace. He had a strange look on his face that I didn't dare ask about.
"Good news is you still have some family left?" I offer to him, but I just get a stone cold glare in response. "I think he's just been healing, really slowly. I mean, it's been what, six years?"
"This is crazy," was all Scott had to say on the subject. He is most definitely right.
"Anyway, you never answered me properly," I continued on in a hurry, feeling the time ticking away, "Where's Stiles?"
"I told you! He's not here!" Derek whipped around to face me, his face flooded with rage. I almost stumbled over. He was really frightening me. It was like something had just snapped at the news of his uncle.
"We find Stiles, we find the Alpha," I fight back, trying not to let my hands shake too much.

The next thing I heard was the whizzing of an arrow sliding past my ear.

I freeze.

Derek twists his head, breathes in hard through his nose, smelling them out. Then he locks onto my eyes and says one word: Run.

All three of us sprint off down the path away from the direction of the shooter. Allison. Considering that I was fleeing for my life beside two werewolves who could run a lot faster than me, it was no shock that I quickly fell behind. My stomach was churning. Pain shot through my legs on every step and echoed in my damaged shoulder.
"Hurry!" Scott cried to me when he glanced back to check up on me.
I was panting hard so only managed to spit out the words, "Can't- fast"-
"Split up!" Derek ordered, as another arrow narrowly missed his shoulder.
"No!" I wailed, feeling the burn growing in my throat. I didn't dare look behind me. "Vision!"
"It's the only plan we've got, and it's the one where the likelihood of you getting shot is at its lowest. We can heal – you can't," Derek growled, not even sounding out of breath in the least. Jealous isn't even the word. "Go find Stiles, we'll take the Argents."
To give him credit, Derek has been doing this a lot longer than I had, so I nodded in agreement. They are stronger than I think, I shouldn't be too worried. It's Stiles that's in the most danger right now. And my god, I needed to stop running.
"Split at the crossroads. Scott, go right and loop back around to the entrance. I'll drive Kate towards the back of the graveyard. Emily, take the left to the woods, the howls were coming from that direction."
"I'm going… towards the Alpha?!" I managed to choke out, feeling coldness seeping through my jacket, despite how much I was sweating.
"You're the only one who knows where Stiles will be. And you said it yourself, he can't touch you. I'm only going to say this once: You're the best chance we've got."
"Thanks," I muttered, feeling right about ready to pass out.

The crossroads happened upon us and without another word, we split. I pushed my legs to work harder, imagining myself with werewolf speed. I didn't hear any footsteps behind me, nor did any arrows fly at my head so I presumed that Kate and Allison were fulfilling their roles in my vision.

I breached the trees and the gravel under my feet softened into fallen leaves and mud. Ducking behind one of the larger crooked trees, I leant against the bark and tried to catch my breath. The stinging in my throat was worse than ever, like a pair of frozen hands suffocating me. My chest was heaving up and down, no matter how slowly I tried to exhale. Clock's ticking, Emily. You have to find Stiles.

With regret, I set off again, knowing that my wobbly legs will be feeling the burn tomorrow. I played through my vision again, picking out small details – the twisted shape of the tree, the rectangular graves littering the setting, the graveyard wall in the background. Keeping close to the graveyard-forest border, I traipsed along, regretting not being as athletic as I could be.

As if on cue, a long howl rattled the silence. Followed by a not-so-distant cry of: "Help!" Stiles. They were close. I jogged, keeping low, in the direction of the noise, knowing that I must only be minutes away. The forest fell away behind me as I ventured back into the more vacant part of the graveyard.

Peter Hale had his back to me when I eventually found them. Stiles was exactly as I pictured, scuffling against the dark roots of a tree, his eyes wide and frightened. His face was white, and he kept whipping his head around, probably hoping that Scott or Derek would leap out from behind a headstone and save him.

Peter moved, ever so slightly, as if he was going to take a step towards the panicking boy and his shadow fell across Stiles.
"Take one more step and you're going to wish that you died in that fire," my voice rang about the quiet graveyard. I hoped I sounded as confident as I was trying to act.
Peter's head tilted to one side. Taking his time, he span on his feet to face me. His mouth was stretched in a wide grin.
"Well, well, well. I was wondering when you'd turn up," he smirked at me, and I was filled with disgust.

Stiles took this opportunity to clasp his hands round a fist sized rock that lay next to the tree. I flicked my eyes to him and he nodded – telling me to keep him talking.
"Nice disappearing trick back at the hospital. You know there will be people looking for you now," I say, curling my hands into fists to stop them shaking.
"I was planning on giving your friend Isaac a visit for a bit of fun, but then I see you outside his room and- ooh, I couldn't resist. It was getting boring watching you trying to figure it out. He almost got there," Peter flicked his thumb behind him to Stiles, who was frozen in a crouched position, "Looking at the murder victims and connecting them to the fire. Disappointing really…"
"Those were innocent people."
Peter's face contorts and I have to step backwards to distance the space between us even more.
"They were murderers," he roars suddenly, his cruel eyes narrowing, "They helped kill my family!"

The man rolls his shoulders and takes a calming breath. He cracks his neck both ways before setting his face back into the sly smile. For the second time in the night, I am sure that I am going to pass out at any moment. The fear of being in his presence, even in human form, was worse than anything I had ever felt before. I was tiptoeing the line between life and death, having to think about every movement and sound I make. He could flip any second.
"So now you know who I am, blah blah blah, boring. The question is, my dear, who are you?" Peter brings his scarred hands together and studied me - an experiment in his twisted games.
"I don't matter," I say, gulping.
"Oh, but that's not true, is it? Tell me your name. Tell me who you are." Peter commanded, and I felt inclined to reply straight away. It was only glancing at Stiles that brought me to my senses.

It happened faster than I could cry out for him to stop. Stiles brought the rock down on Peter's head, but the werewolf must have heard him coming. His arm whipped around, knocked the rock away and flipped Stiles over his shoulder. I let out a shocked sob as Stiles coughed on the floor, bruised and winded.
Peter sighed as if it was tedious for him.
"So we've got to do this the hard way," he complains sadly. Then he reaches down and digs a claw shaped hand around Stiles's neck. Peter pulls my friend up to his feet and holds him against his chest facing towards me, like holding a gun to a hostage's head.
"Stop!" I wept out, painfully taking in Stiles's terrified expression.
"Then tell me your name."
"Emily! Emily Hoskins! Why does it even matter? I'm no one! Let him go, please, please don't hurt him..." Tears started dripping down my face. I felt so hopeless. I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything to save Stiles.
Peter's face was a blank mask. If my name bothered him, he didn't show it right away.
"Hoskins," Peter's voice repeated, quietly. So soft that it was scary. Like waiting to pounce. "You're Cassie Hoskins's niece. Oh, very clever, Cas!" He leant his head back and let out a manic laugh, "And you don't even know what you are! No one's told you." Peter wiped at his eyes, still chuckling, "That's brilliant... Haha… Unfortunately, I'm going to have to kill you too now. Which is a shame because you're rather quite clever. Not clever enough though."

His words confused the hell out of me. I had never heard of anyone called Cassie in my family before. It was just me and my parents. That's it. He must be mistaken. And what did he mean, I didn't know what I am? Does he mean the foresight ability?

I hardly had time to gather my thoughts before he attacked. Stiles was roughly thrown to the ground and scrambled away as quick as he could. Peter closed the distance between us. All I had time to do was throw my arms up to cover my face and scream.

I waited for the claws to scratch through my skin.

Instead, it felt like time slowed down. I felt a hot pressure building between Peter and I as he brought his hand closer and closer. When he was two inches away, the pressure blisters my skin. The block of air between us that I had discovered at the hospital - of course! He never attacked me at the video store. He never attacked me directly in the school. Because he can't. I'm protected. By what?

I think all of this in a split second, because in the next moment the scolding tension reaches it burning limit. The world around me explodes. I catch a glimpse of Peter flying backwards. Then the light goes out.

…

Ouch. That was my first thought. My head feels like it's been hit over the head with a brick. I lay still for a few minutes, letting the fogginess clear. Groggily, I eventually sat up pushing my hair out of my face with one grazed hand. It was still dark – I couldn't have been out long. Peter was gone, which worried me less than I thought it would. I was happy not to have to confront him again. I could see Stiles's feet sticking out from behind a statue of a woman further down the path. He must have got blasted by- whatever that was. The moon was setting in the sky. Our night of terrors was over, for now.

I steadied myself onto my feet and the world span a few times. I was wondering how Scott and Derek were when out of nowhere, a hand grabbed my hurt shoulder with such a force that I yelled out in pain. My knees started buckling beneath me. Peter. No. Not Peter. He can't touch me.
"When I get a call from a neighbour about a youth breaking into my graveyard at night, little did I know that it would be you, of all are the chances? I can hardly believe my luck."

The man's sinister voice makes my eyes widen and panic knot in my chest in a way that Peter could never do. At least I knew what Peter was capable of. I was definitely in trouble. Stiles was unconscious and hidden from plain sight. I was on my own.

"I-I'm-" I tried to form an excuse, but my mouth had gone bone dry. Anxiety was pumping through my veins.
"I think it's time that you and I had a little chat."

A heavy object cracks into my skull and I fall to the graveyard floor, unconscious.

A.N.

Wooooo, new chapter up really soon after the last one! I've got a new spurt of inspiration. I was even in work today planning this chapter out. It's a bit longer than usual, but I really wanted it to end where it did. It is not going to be good… Sorry for any mistakes, I'm writing this really late at night.
Thank you for the new readers who have followed and the old ones who have stuck with me! I really appreciate you reading my story. I would love it if you could review as well!:)
Until the next time, adios! x