a/n: it's been like a year since i've updated and a season and a half has gone by and we're all a little wiser/fucked in the head. this would be taking place in the summer before season 3 i guess? sorry it's taken me so long to finish but i just plum forgot about it. most characters that had pretty noticeable transformations between season 2 and 3, so maybe think of this last chapter as a catalyst for their new and improved selves that we now know, love, and fear.

enjoy!

hardest of hearts / florence + the machine

you'll never know what a fool i've been

The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is strawberry blonde.

'Lydia?' he croaks.

'Oh, thank god,' she says as she turns around and takes a step towards him before she is pushed out of the way by Scott.

'Hey buddy,' he says, sitting down by his side. 'How're you feeling?'

'Fucking fantastic,' Stiles tries to joke, but nobody smiles. 'Tell Coach I'm good for the scrimmage tomorrow.'

He notices the worried glance that bounces around between Scott, Lydia and his father sitting in the corner of the room. 'What?'

'Tomorrow was actually yesterday,' Sheriff Stilinksi says. 'You've been out for nearly three days.'

'Oh,' Stiles leans back on the hospital bed, making every effort not to wince at the pain that echoed through his body. 'Did we win?'

Lydia searches in her handbag for her car keys when a voice startles her from above. 'Leaving so soon?'

Casey is sitting in a tree that has been trying to grow in the shadow of the hospital. The branches that do bear leaves only sprout them in a sickly yellow colour, and they sag under the meagre burden. She climbs down and the thin limbs creak even though she puts no weight on them.

'He's awake,' Lydia says. 'He's fine, but he doesn't remember what happened to him.'

'So that's it then?' Casey steps up to Lydia and she tries to move back, but ends up pressed against her car door. 'You're just going to leave?'

'Yes, well, this might come as a surprise to someone who voluntarily spends so much time around him, but I have bigger things in my life to worry about than Stiles Stilinski," Lydia says defensively. 'I don't see you up there having a candlelight vigil at his bedside, anyway. Why aren't you with him?'

'You do know that I see death, right? Do you know how many people die in hospitals?' Casey crosses her arms. 'Ten minutes in that place and I feel like the kid in The Sixth Sense.'

'But Jackson said you could only see deaths that were caused by supernatural circumstances,' Lydia frowns.

'Oh really? Does Jackson have a little how-to guide on being a phantom that he could lend me? Is he the god damn authority on the ghost world?' Casey says, trying to keep as much as much spite out of her voice as she can manage. 'No, I see instances where human spirits pass over, and I think I have to be near someone who had a connection to them. Someone who loved them.'

Lydia stares at her blankly, so she continues. 'You were in that hospital once, but your spirit didn't quite make it through the door to the other side. Instead, you came back with an extra. But I still saw that, I saw you in sleeping in that bed as your soul fought to makes its way back to you. And you know what else I saw? Stiles sleeping on a row of those plastic chairs until a nurse came and hit him with a clipboard and told him that forty eight hours outside a girl's room looked more than a little desperate.'

Lydia gulps, but then tosses her hair defiantly. 'That's not my problem. I didn't ask him to do that.'

'I haven't told you where else I saw you,' Casey continues. 'At the last lacrosse game, I shut my eyes and there you were on the field in a really pretty dress, with Peter Hale tearing you to shreds. And Stiles was screaming and running towards you as you fell to the ground, and as he got to Peter he begged him to not to kill you, to kill him instead. Did you know that?'

She could tell from the look on Lydia's face that she didn't. 'I mean, how many people can say they have someone willing to sacrifice their life for them? Would Jackson do that? Would he die for you?'

'You don't know the first thing about Jackson,' Lydia says, sniffling, pulling at the car door handle to open it, but Casey slams it shut again and she squeaks in shock.

'Look, I'm sorry you were turned into some kind of werewolf horcrux, okay, but you need to check yourself,' Casey leans in closer and finds herself relishing in Lydia's fright. 'I may not know a lot about Jackson, but I know a lot about Stiles. And I know that he deserves so, so much more that what your selfish heart could ever give, but he'll probably be pining after you until the day he dies.'

'Well if you love him so much,' Lydia says in a venomous tone as she forces her car door open and climbs into the driver's seat, 'maybe then you can finally have him.'

Scott and his mom eat their dinner in silence only broken by the clinking of dishes that Casey washes in the sink.

Having a ghost in her home had become a comfort to Melissa, knowing that the house would be clean when she came home from work and no food would disappear from the fridge the way it did when Scott's other friends came around. The lie about her 'adopted niece' had become easier once people noticed that Casey's stomach wasn't expanding and accepted that her son had not impregnated the poor girl. Now she nervously awaited the day that Casey would announce she's moving on.

'What was Mrs Stilinski like?' Casey suddenly asks as she's drying a plate.

Scott chokes on his noodles and Melissa smacks him hard on the back and he coughs them out. 'Why do you ask?' he says once he regains his breath.

'I think I saw her,' Casey puts the plate away in the kitchen cupboard and sits down at the table with them. 'It's how I figured out I don't just see paranormal deaths. I can see anyone die, where they died, as long as someone who loved them is nearby.'

'How did you know it was Stiles' mom?' Scott says, and Melissa listens attentively.

'I recognised her from the photos at the Stilinski's, but…' Casey pauses. 'I also knew it was her because I can only see her when Stiles is awake or when the Sheriff comes to visit him.'

'Oh sweetie,' Melissa lets her hand linger over Casey's, without actually touching her. 'I'm sorry you had to see that. She was very sick.'

'I know, because I keep seeing Stiles when he was little, but every time I go back he seems a little older. She was on the edge of passing over for so long, but she kept on brushing it off.'

'Claudia was a fighter,' Melissa smiles sadly and the kitchen falls into silence again.

'I wanna help him,' Casey says in a thick voice. 'He should get to see his mom again.'

'Are you sure that's a good idea?' Scott says. 'It might just open up old wounds. He doesn't need reminding that his mom is dead. That she's never going to hold him in her arms again, or tell him that she loves him.'

'Then what's the point?' tears escape from under Casey's eyelids. 'Why do I even have this stupid death vision? If I can't connect the lives of people who love each other then what am I even doing? Am I just meant to suffer watching people being torn apart day after day? I can't take it anymore!'

She pushes her chair back from the table and stands, pressing the heels of her palms onto her eyes.

'Casey," Scott stands as well, reaching for her.

'Please don't, Scott,' she pulls her arm away, turns on the spot and disappears into thin air.

Scott exchanges concerned glances with his mother. 'Is she going to be okay?'

Melissa smiles tightly. 'She's surrounded by death and constantly reminds us of our mortality. That's a lot of pressure for a teenage girl.'

He chews on his lip. 'I just wish there was a way we could make her happy.'

'You can't force happiness on someone, Scott,' she spins an absent wedding ring around her finger, an action forged by years of habit and not one that could be easily broken. 'All you can do is be there for them and hope they make the right choices for themselves.'

'What are you doing here?' Casey stares at Lydia as she walks into Stiles' hospital room.

'He's being discharged tomorrow morning so I brought him a change of clothes,' Lydia sniffs, avoiding eye contact. 'He's having a shower.'

Casey teleports over to the empty bed and lies down on it, kicking her feet up and letting the residual warmth from Stiles' body on the bedsheets seep into her. 'That's nice of you.'

'It's the least I could do,' Lydia says, twirling a strand of hair around her index finger. 'He apparently saved my life, or whatever.'

Casey grins at her feigned indifference. 'He's not such a bad guy, right?'

'He's not a bad guy at all,' Lydia finally looks at her. 'The opposite of a bad guy, in fact. The very best of guys.'

Casey nods and looks back at the ceiling. 'Sorry for snapping at you earlier. The never-ending 'I see dead people' thing gets really old after a while.'

Lydia sits down in the chair opposite the bed. 'I know the feeling. Carrying a dead werewolf around in your head isn't exactly a walk in the park.'

'How did you do that, by the way?' Casey asks.

'I have no idea,' Lydia frowns. 'There's just… something about me. I didn't turn from a werewolf bite. I brought a dead asshole back to life. Sometimes I get these feelings that something bad is going to happen, and I'm always right. You know I came here the night Stiles was attacked? I had no idea why, but I just felt I had to come to the hospital. When I arrived Derek and Mrs. McCall were hauling him into the emergency room and he was being taken away on a gurney. I just couldn't believe it. I thought he was going to die.'

She swallows nervously. 'I feel like it's my fault. I should have known, I should have warned him.'

'How were you supposed to know?' Casey says sympathetically. 'You can do things that can't be explained, but people still feel like they can tell you you're wrong or that you're meant to be doing something differently. Welcome to my world. Don't beat yourself up about it.'

Lydia stares at her, and unease stirs in the pit of her stomach.

'There's something else,' she says. 'I stayed in the waiting room with Derek while Mrs. McCall took Stiles to get x-rays. He didn't want to talk to me, obviously, but we waited together until we knew Stiles was going to be alright. His dad arrived in a total panic and Mrs. McCall was going to stay with him, so I ended up giving Derek a ride. When we got the old subway station I just felt sick, and we see this black van parked out the front and Derek tells me to keep driving. I didn't even need to ask why. I knew they were the same people who hurt Stiles. I dropped him off at his old burnt-out house where I resurrected Peter but I just couldn't shake this awful feeling that something was coming for him.'

'Derek is a big boy,' Casey says in a reassuring voice. 'He can take care of himself. You didn't ask for any of this.'

'I know,' Lydia says. 'But, like, what's the point? Why is this happening to me? I… I'm really scared.'

Casey stands up and moves towards her, placing her hands delicately on her shoulders. 'We're all scared. Nobody really knows what we're doing. We're just kids who have been thrown in the deep end, and we have to be each other's life vests until we can figure it out. Okay?'

Lydia shuts her eyes and nods as the cool touch on her shoulders presses relief into her skin and a sense of calm rushes through her veins. She raises a hand and puts it on her opposite shoulder, letting it sink into Casey and the connection is comforting.

'Are you guys having a moment?' Stiles appears at the bathroom door in his pyjamas, towelling his hair dry. 'Should I come back later? If you're going to kiss I'd rather stay and watch, if you don't mind.'

'We do mind, actually. I don't want you getting jealous because I'm going further than you're ever going to get,' Casey replies with a wry smile, winking at Lydia, who giggles as she gets to her feet.

'Uh, excuse me, I have a boyfriend," Lydia says, before her face falls. 'Well, I did.'

'What happened to lizard boy?' Casey asks. 'Did he finally grow a conscience and move to Africa to help impoverished children?'

Stiles snorts with laughter and she sneaks a glance at him. He has a sling on his arm, two black eyes and a split lip. He doesn't look happy for a new opportunity or angry for Lydia's pain. Instead he just looks resigned, like he realises that he could never be able to be with someone who seems to enjoy getting hurt.

Lydia rolled her eyes and continued. 'His father got a job at a firm in London and he's going with him. But he's all like, "I want to make my last few weeks with you to be really special," which of course means he doesn't want to do long-distance but he's making sure he can have as much sex as possible until he can start sleeping with British girls.'

'Wow, Lydia, that's really shitty,' Stiles says. 'I'm sorry he did that to you.'

'Ugh, don't be,' Lydia sniffs and shrugs her shoulders. 'I guess I'm kind of asking for it. I can never resist a bad boy, so it's mostly my fault.'

'Hey,' Stiles suddenly looks concerned. 'Don't ever let anyone make you feel like you don't deserve to feel valued and respected. Okay?'

Lydia is flabbergasted. 'Okay,' is all she can manage to say.

'Good,' he says. 'You're Lydia Martin, goddammit. You're worth ten of him.'

Lydia bites her bottom lip and takes a deep breath to stop herself from bursting into tears. 'Thanks, Stiles.'

'What are friends for?' he says.

In two strides Lydia is in front of him and wrapping her arms around his waist. It's only for a second, and he can't hide the ecstatic grin on his face from Casey, but by the time she pulls away he's stoic and sensible again. Casey laughs and moves in behind Lydia, reaching around her to hug Stiles and pulling all three of them into an embrace.

'We'll never have anything more important than our friends,' she says. 'Whatever we do, we need to look out for one another, alright? No more unwarranted trips to the hospital or running from our fears or keeping secrets. You got it?'

'I'm in incredible pain,' Stiles grunts, and Casey releases them. Lydia looks flustered as she pats her hair down, quashing the butterflies that danced in her stomach as she was squashed between him and the cold, weightless air that Casey occupies.

'Sorry,' Casey says. 'I might go. I came here to talk to Stiles about something, but it can wait.'

'No, please, I've been asleep for the last three days, I've forgotten most of the last week, I could do with some stimulating conversation,' he says.

'It's not… You seem like you're in a good mood. I don't want to ruin it,' she says.

'What? Casey, that's not cool, now you're scaring me. You said literally one minute ago that there should be no more secrets. What is it?'

'Your mom,' she says, and Lydia gasps quietly as Stiles' face falls.

'What about her?' he says in a low voice.

'If I could, and I'm not saying I can, but if I could somehow, some way, get a connection to her… would you want to speak to her?'

His face is expressionless and Lydia slowly grips his hand in solidarity. 'How can you ask me that?'

'I just…'

'Of course! Of course I want to speak to my mother. In what world would my answer ever be no? How? Did you figure something out while I was unconscious? Is it a new ghost thing?'

'No, no, I don't know if I can do anything yet. But I really want to try, Stiles. If anyone deserves to regain a moment with someone they loved, it's you,' Casey says.

Silence engulfs the room. Lydia switches out one hand holding Stiles' for the other, wiping her sweating palm on her skirt.

'It's just something I thought I would consider,' Casey says meekly.

'Are you only doing this because I got my ass handed to me?' Stiles asks.

'Absolutely,' she deadpans.

He smiles even though his eyes are shimmering with tears. 'I should get beaten up more often. People are way nicer.'

'I saw the van,' Allison whispers, he voice crackling through the speaker on Scott's phone. 'I'm following it now.'

'Allison, no! Don't get yourself hurt!' Scott says. 'Wait for us! Where are you?'

'At the lights on the corner of Smith and Maple. Don't worry about me, Scott. I don't need your help.'

Casey looks at Scott in alarm. That was halfway across town. They were at the cinema trying to enjoy their first day of summer vacation. Isaac had bailed, saying he was going to do some more research into other wolf packs that Boyd and Erica might have run off with. Stiles was in line for popcorn, arguing with Lydia about how much butter to put on. She sees the worry that creases Scott's forehead, and they share an unspoken thought. She nods and transports herself to an alleyway on Maple Street. A startled cat hisses and flees underneath a dumpster, but Casey takes no notice as she sees the traffic lights turn green and Allison's car move off after a black van with tinted windows. She takes a deep breath and moves again.

Allison shrieks as she appears in the passenger's seat.

'Oh my god, it worked!' Casey exclaims. 'I've never teleported into a moving vehicle before!'

'Give me some warning next time!' Allison presses her hand to her chest, trying to slow her racing heart.

'If we had it your way I wouldn't even be here and you'd be driving yourself into probable mortal danger all alone. A "thank you" will suffice,' Casey replies.

'I can take care of myself,' Alison mumbles crossly.

'Nobody is saying you can't,' Casey adopts Allison's surly tone. 'But Scott thinks…'

'Scott needs to stop thinking about me. He needs to stop worrying about me. We need to be over,' Allison says.

'Right, like he's just going to magically fall out of love with you just like that,' Casey scoffs. 'Give him some time Allison, and some space.'

'I want to,' Allison says. 'But with everything that happened with my family and then you and then Stiles… We keep getting thrown back into each other and it just makes it that much harder to move on.'

'And you're sure you want to move on?' Casey asks tentatively.

Allison grits her teeth. 'It's not about what I want. It's about what I need. And I just need to be by myself right now. I need to sort myself out.'

Casey nods in understanding and shifts to look out the window. Suddenly she frowns.

'Why are we going into the woods?' she asks. 'The only place around these parts is…'

'The Hale house,' Allison finishes her sentence. 'They're going after Derek.'

They park on a back road and sneak up to Derek's house through the woods. The black van is parked out the front and men with large guns slung over their shoulder have kicked in the front door. Some stand guard while the others move a number of boxes of different shapes and sizes inside. Then, a struggling figure with a black hood tied over its head is pulled out of the back of the van and shoved up the stairs and into the house.

'Oh no,' Casey covers her mouth with her hand. 'Is that Derek?'

'No,' Derek's voice pipes up next to them and both girls muffle their screams.

'Jesus, Derek,' Casey goes to shove his shoulder but her hand just moves right through him. 'Are you hiding out here?'

'How did you know there were going to come here?' Allison says.

'I heard them coming up the road,' Derek points to his ears. 'Werewolf senses, dummy.'

'Don't call me a dummy!' Allison exclaims in outrage.

'What would you rather me call you? Psychopath? Murderer? You attacked a bunch of innocent kids with arrows and knives. I can call you what I like.'

Allison opened her mouth angrily, but Casey shushed her. 'Shut up, stop arguing. Let's get a closer look.'

Derek and Allison nod. Derek unsheathes his claws and Allison pulls a revolver from her back pocket.

'You certainly came prepared,' Derek says.

'You have your defences, I have mine,' Allison replies.

'After you,' he motions her forward.

'Why do I have to go first?' she protests. 'You're the supernatural one.'

He raises a single eyebrown. 'I'd rather not have you behind me pointing that gun at my back, thanks very much.'

Before Allison can get them into another argument, Casey steps forward. 'For God's sake, I'll go first. Just be quiet.'

Casey makes her way towards the house slowly, with Allison behind her and Derek bringing up the rear. She walks on tiptoes, even though she knows that no leaves will rustle under her feet, no creature will be disturbed by her weightless form passing by. They get to the living room window, where the men seem to be congregating, and Allison climbs onto the woodpile to get a better look. Derek stretches the length on his body upwards to peer in beside her. Casey takes a deeps breath and begins to float about a foot off the ground.

Derek catches sight of her and his jaw drops. 'Well, this is a new development. You can fly?'

'I can levitate,' Casey corrects him. 'I started wondering if gravity was supposed to work on me and I found myself leaving the ground, so I guess the rules of physics don't really apply to ghosts.'

'No surprises there,' he says, turning his attention back to the living room. 'Aw man, I can't believe they kicked in my door. I just painted it.'

'I know most of these guys,' Allison says suddenly.

Casey and Derek look at her in shock.

'They used to work for Gerard, until my dad fired them all and told them to get legitimate jobs that didn't involve hunting down werewolves.'

'More hunters,' Derek sighs. 'Great.'

'If they're werewolf hunters, then why the hell did they go after Stiles?' Casey says.

'He's the most important person in the world to Scott. Sorry,' Derek sends an apologetic shrug to Allison and she grimaces. 'If they want to get to him, then they would use the people closest to him.'

'But why would they have any interest in Scott now that… never mind,' Casey's question died on her lips as she saw the answer roll through the living room door in a wheelchair, black liquid trickling from every orifice on his face.

'Gentleman,' Gerard says to the room of men, his voice echoing around the house. 'The full moon is tonight. Is the last Hale here?'

'No sign of him, sir,' a hunter close to the window replies, and all three of them duck their heads as Gerard's gaze moves in their direction.

'He'll be close by. Derek Hale, the last little twig in the family tree. Isn't that right, Derek? I know you can hear me, wherever you are.'

His voice is so smug it turns Casey's stomach, and the look on Allison's face tells her the feeling in mutual. Derek's fangs are bared, his eyes are red, and his shoulders shake with rage. Casey reaches out and places her hand on his back, rubbing comforting circles like he had done so many times for her when she had fallen apart trying to figure out her place and purpose in this world. He meets her eyes and the blood colour fades, but the fury remains.

'You're not the last one though, are you?' Gerard continues. 'You and your sister survived the flames, only for her to perish by the hand of an uncle you never suspected. The same hand that stole away my daughter. The same uncle that was once buried beneath this house, only for him to be seen digging his already bloody hands into the body of a Kanima. Now, I wonder how a man that is supposed to be dead is somehow walking the streets like it never happened. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you Derek?'

'He knows about Peter,' Derek whispers to Casey. 'Do you think he knows about you as well?'

Casey shrugs and looks at Allison, whose mouth has twisted into a tight, thin line. 'He's a lunatic. How did I ever listen to a word that came out of his mouth?'

'I'm not looking for answers, Derek. I'm looking for results. And who better to ask than the result himself?' Gerard waves his hand and the man in the black hood is thrown to the floor in front of him.

A hunter kicks him in the ribs and he groans as the hood is pulled off. Peter Hale is sprawled at Gerard's feet, kept in line by a pair of electrified handcuffs that link his hands behind his back.

'Tell me, Peter. How is it that you managed to come back from the grave looking even more handsome than before?' Gerard says mockingly.

'You flatter me,' Peter replies, cricking his neck. 'It will never work for you.'

'Why not? I have the bite. I am, as you might say, infected. But my body is tainted. I must depart for it to be drained of the mountain ash, and once it's clean I would very much like to return to take my true werewolf form.'

'It doesn't work that way, pops,' Peter sighs melodramatically. 'This was a failsafe I've had in place for years. All I needed was a carrier, and I was set. You need to be an Alpha to even attempt this kind of thing.'

'Surely there must be other ways,' Gerard says, pushing for a better outcome.

'Nooope,' Peter says, popping the 'p' sound between his lips. 'Just the one way. The only way.'

'My, my, my,' Gerard says. 'That is… disappointing. I'm afraid I'm left with only one other option.'

'You're going to let me go and I'll forget this whole thing ever happened,' Peter says, the corners of his mouth twitching. 'If you could throw in some free dry cleaning for these clothes you roughed up that would be very much appreciated as well.'

'No, Mr. Hale. I think it's only fitting that you exit this world the way you were supposed to.'

Gerard nods at the hunters around the room, and they all open the different boxes that were brought into the house. Some contain gasoline, some contain heavy chains, and one hunter pulls out an enormous flamethrower and slings it over his shoulder.

'No,' Peter's cool façade has disappeared and he's desperately struggling against his captors as they wrap chains around his body, electrical pulses coursing through him, slurring his speech. 'I'll help you figure out another way to live without the bite. Please, let me help you.'

'The last thing I want is help from the likes of you,' Gerard snarls. 'You're poison. You're an affliction of this Earth and I will see to it that we will be cured forever.'

Two hunters take Peter by the shoulders and drag him towards the loose floorboards that cover the hole where his was buried, the break in the veil that Casey passed through, the doorway to the other side. They kick the timber aside and haul him to his feet as their colleagues shake gasoline over his head. The man with the flamethrower takes aim.

'We have to do something,' Casey digs her fingers into Derek's arm, and he nods, turning towards Allison, who is no longer there.

'Arrêter!' they hear her voice from inside as she steps into the living room, her gun pointed at Gerard's head. 'Le mettre vers le bas!'

'We don't work for you anymore, you little bitch,' one of the hunters holding Peter scowls at her, and she raises her eyebrows before changing her aim and shooting him in the foot.

Derek and Casey run in behind her as he falls to the ground, screaming in pain. They raise their hands above their heads as five different shotguns are pointed in their direction. Allison keeps a firm grip on her revolver, directing it back towards Gerard.

'Everybody get out or I'll shoot him,' she says. 'Go and do what my father told you. Go and enter a profession that involves less murder.'

'Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent,' the hunters say in unison.

'Yes, we hunt those who hunt us, I know,' Allison says. 'But the Hale family wasn't hunting anybody when their house burned to the ground. Many innocent lives were lost simply because they couldn't help what they were born as. We've been told that werewolves are the hunters and we are the hunted, but it's the other way around. Kate poked a hornet's nest when she came after the Hales, and now we're all feeling the repercussions. This ends now.'

'We already told you, you're not our boss,' the hunter standing next to Gerard is the only one with his weapon still raised.

Allison rolls her eyes and readjusts her aim again. He also takes a shot to the foot.

'Argent women run this clan,' she says coldly. 'Now you can stay and help me clean up this mess, or you can get out of this town and never come back. Those are your two options.'

The last hunters left standing help their injured friends to stand, slinging their arms over their shoulders. They get to the front door with the intention of leaving Beacon Hills, but the door opens before they can reach is and they come face to face with a fully transformed and very pissed off Scott McCall.

The sound of gunfire pierces the tension in the room, and everyone throws themselves the floor. Derek rushes over to his uncle, crushing Peter's handcuffs with his claws. The electric shock dizzies him, and they both struggle with the chains. As soon as Peter is free, he gives Derek a sly wink and dashes out the back door, away from the conflict.

'Coward!' Derek roars after him.

Meanwhile, Allison has pulled an unconscious Scott into a corner, cradling his bleeding head in her lap. A bullet grazed his temple and he was out cold. Casey could see Stiles and Lydia hunkered down by the stairs, clinging to one another in fear. Lydia held a baseball bat that obviously belonged to Stiles, but he had traded it with her for a weapon he could use with one arm in a sling, and instead he clutched a pink bottle of pepper spray. Gerard had fallen from his wheelchair and was now squirming on the ground, unhurt but obviously in a great deal of discomfort.

The gunmen were firing indiscriminately, spurred on by panic. They're weren't listening to Allison's screams to stop, and their bullets ricocheted everywhere around the house.

What the hell am I doing? Casey thinks to herself suddenly. It's not as if I can die again.

She gets to her feet, and the movement gives the hunters a more certain target. Another burst of gunfire comes toward her, but the bullets pass right through and slam into the walls behind her. She moves quickly, startling the men. She disappears then reappears behind them, taking their guns from the rear. She then transports them up to the attic, out of reach, before coming back for the others.

'What the hell are you?' one of the hunters screams at her.

'Your worst nightmare,' she replies, and then pauses. 'Did I really just say that? Ugh, so clichéd.'

'Stop shooting! Get out! GET OUT!' Allison's cries are finally paid heed. The men rush out of the house and pile into the van, presumably to take their injured members to the hospital. Casey was sure Melissa would notice the black van that matched the description of the one that took Stiles and contact the Sheriff, who would be more than happy to punish the men who hurt his son.

The house is quiet apart from the heavy breathing of frightened teenagers. Derek, still dazed from his electric shock, looks up to see a pistol pointed right between his eyes.

'Don't move a muscle,' Gerard wheezes. 'Who's the girl who can come and go through the air and withstand death?'

'Casey?' Derek calls for her uncertainly. 'There's someone here who wants to speak to you.'

Casey turns around and her face falls. 'Put your gun down, old man. Don't make me come for you too.'

'If I sense even a hint that you're going to move from the exact spot you're standing, I'll stick this silver bullet right into his brain,' Gerard says.

'What exactly is your end game here?' Allison says derisively, her hands sticky with Scott's blood. 'What's the point of all this?'

'What's the point of any of it, my dear?' Gerard replies. 'Nothing but the pursuit of life and legacy.'

'And what a legacy you leave,' Casey snorts. 'Throwing your family and traditions under the bus just so you can extend your lifespan for a few more decades. You stand for nothing but cruelty and narcissism.'

'Be that as it may, I'm still a cruel narcissist with a gun to your friend's head and a desperate thirst to stay alive,' Gerard says. 'Who are you and how did you become so indestructible?'

'You think I'm indestructible?' Casey smothers a laugh. 'Dude, I'm dead. Dead and gone. My body is rotting in the ground somewhere. I'm just a shadow of a girl.'

'Tell me how,' Gerard leans forward greedily.

Casey sees a window of opportunity but hesitates to take it. It would mean throwing away everything and becoming nothing again. Could she do it? Was this the point of it all? To sacrifice herself to save people she loved? To take a piece of that love back to those who they had lost? She took a deep breath.

'I can do better than that,' she says. 'I can show you.'

'Yes,' Gerard's voice comes out like a hiss and it makes her skin crawl.

She uses his distraction to teleport behind him, twisting the gun out of his hand and dragging him by the scruff of the neck towards Peter's grave.

'I'm going to try and take you to the other side, Gerard,' she says. 'But I'm afraid I can't promise that you'll come back.'

'What? No!' Gerard strains against her grip to no avail.

Stiles and Lydia had risen from the stairs and were helping Derek get to his feet. Allison clung to Scott tightly as he was slowly coming to.

'Casey, no,' Derek says. 'You don't have to do this.'

'So many clichés tonight,' Casey smiles wryly. 'I'm trying to get rid of him for you. If I have to go too, then that's just the way it has to be.'

'You said you wouldn't ever leave me,' Derek leans on Stiles' good arm and tries to take a step forward. 'You said you wouldn't ever leave me alone.'

'I'm not leaving you alone, Derek,' Casey says. 'Look around. I'm not the only one who gives a crap about you. I know you think you can't trust yourself, and your happiness will never be permanent, but if you let yourself be vulnerable, Derek, people will return the favor. You're a good person and you deserve to have joy in your life.'

She looks at Stiles and Lydia, flanking Derek on either side. 'That goes for you two as well, you know. Stop taking all this love around you for granted. Romantic love isn't inherently better than platonic love. At the end of the day, when all the bullshit melts away, it's your friends that will pass the test of time.'

'Casey, please don't go,' Stiles says, his voice wavering. 'I can't lose someone else. Not like this.'

'I'm sorry about your mom,' she says. 'I never told you, but I saw her in the hospital when I was there. Her presence was so strong. She was very loved. If I see her…'

'Tell her I say hi," Stiles says through a sob caught in his throat.

'Allison,' she turns to the girl who she begrudgingly respected, despite their frosty beginnings. 'Get out of this place for a while. Go to France or something. Use your French for something other than bossing people around.'

Allison nods and laughs, pushing away the tears on her cheeks with her index fingers. She misses a few and they drip off her chin onto Scott's bloody face. His nose twitches, his eyelids flutter, and he mumbles a few incoherent words.

'Goodbye, Scott,' Casey says sadly. 'Thank you for everything. You are destined for something much bigger in this world, and I know you're going to change it for the better. Good luck.'

'Can we get on with this?' Gerard writhes under Casey's hands. 'If you're going to drag me into death I'd rather we do it without all the theatrics.'

'Don't talk to her like that!' Derek growls and launches himself forward, but Stiles and Lydia hold him back.

'You'll always be able to find me. I promise. Look for lights in the darkness. Every time you see one, it will be piece of me,' Casey says. 'I love you all.'

She pulls Gerard backwards as she falls into the grave. Derek rushes forward to look down. Gerard's body lies spreadeagled in the dirt. For a few seconds he doesn't move, but then he groans and shifts his weight, trying to sit up.

'I guess it didn't work,' he says, chuckling to himself. 'What a waste of a good ghost.'

'Casey?' Derek calls out, and Stiles, Lydia and Allison join in. 'Casey? Casey? CASEY?'

'She's not here,' Gerard says. 'She's back where she belongs.'

'She belongs here with us,' Stiles retorts. 'We're her family.'

'Not anymore. I saw her pass through. One second she had me and then the next she faded into pale blue and I was passing right by it all,' the smirk on Gerard's face is unbearable, and Derek turns away to avoid jumping down there and tearing his throat out.

'Why is she gone but not him?' he growls. 'It's not right. He should have left with her.'

'We don't know that,' Stiles says. 'We don't know how the whole ghost thing works. Casey took a calculated guess and she was wrong. Sometimes it just happens.'

Derek let out a pained roar, and everyone covered their ears. What followed was a suffocating silence punctured by the ringing in their eardrums.

'What do we do now?' Lydia asks the question everyone is thinking.

'I'll call my dad,' Allison says. 'He'll take care of Gerard.'

'We should get Scott home,' Derek strides over to her and lifts him out of her arms before taking him outside.

Allison's hands are shaking and she lets herself cry properly for the first time since her mother died. Lydia walks over and crouches in front of her, taking Allison's bloody hands in her perfectly manicured ones. Stiles pets her on the head awkwardly, but stops when he sees Lydia shaking her head at him.

'Let's get out of here,' he says, at a loss for anything else to say.

The sun is beginning to set as they pile into Allison's car and she turns the engine over.

'Do you think she's really gone?' Lydia says nervously.

Stiles looks out the window as the car pulls onto the road, and sees a couple of fireflies floating on the air above a blueberry bush.

'How can someone you love ever truly be gone?' he says as he lays his head back on the seat and goes to sleep to the sound of a familiar dance song that plays from the speakers.

we all want something to hold in the night