| Blink of an Eye, Part 2 |
Scott parked his dirt bike next to his dad's SUV. Derek unwrapped his hands from around the alpha's waist and dismounted first, reaching down and adjusting himself. Scott popped a smile at him after took off his helmet, winking at him before turning to lead them on. By the time the boys walked in, Scott's dad had already finished the introductions between his team and Noah Stilinski.
"Did Scott drive safe, Miguel?" Rafe asked as Scott and Parrish silently greeted each other, the latter the only deputy in the building. Derek nodded and the sheriff ushered the men and boys to an interview, Stiles' dad making a questioning face at Scott. In turn, the alpha made a face as well and followed everyone back, finding Stiles leaning against the wall and Argent seated at the table.
"This s my son, Stiles," the sheriff said, "and this is our key witness, Christopher Argent." Having already stood, Argent was the first to reach out and shake the others' hands, quickly doing away with the pleasantries. The men took their seats, Argent at the head, Noah to his left by the door, then Rafe, Brad, Luis at the other head, and MacKenzie to his left. Stiles remained against the wall behind Argent and Scott and Derek took respective leaning positions behind the sheriff and Scott's dad. The alpha looked over at his best friend, catching him staring at Derek with dismay, the emotion untampered and looming in the air. Stiles realized Scott had caught him and quickly looked at one of the seated men.
"May I?" Brad began
Rafe nodded, but MacKenzie interjected. "Actually, I have to ask: it's not SOP for even Luis or Brad to be here, let alone three teenagers, so, does somebody want to fill me in?"
The two parents exchanged a look before Argent said to Rafe, "Can they be trusted?"
"I wouldn't have asked them to come if I didn't they could," Agent McCall answered matter-of-factly.
"Tell them." Argent said before looking to Scott and Derek. "Show them."
Rafe looked to his partner, MacKenzie looking both confused and expectantly. "This, um, this is…this is going to sound…unbelievable. But, I can prove what I'm about to tell you."
"Out with it, Rafe," Brad said, an eyebrow raised.
"Scott and…Miguel," he continued, Stiles unable to help the wide grin that spread across his lips, "aren't exactly human. They're, um…"
"We're werewolves," Scott aided, allowing his father's expression to relax. MacKenzie, in turn, couldn't help his outburst of brief laughter.
"The people I had you look into," Rafe pushed on, "the Argent family, is hunting my son. And others."
"Rafe—" MacKenzie tried.
"Mack," Brad hushed, looking at Scott and Derek expectantly. "You can prove this?"
The pair's eyes lit up almost simultaneously, causing MacKenzie to shoot up from his chair, the metal legs rubbing hard against the concrete floor.
"You're an alpha," Luis said and all eyes moved to him. "So young."
"Luis?" Rafe started when the major's eyes glowed yellow, Rafe's eyes widening a little.
"Mack, sit," Brad ordered. When the younger agent took his seat slowly, his eyes trapped on the man's face sitting next to him, the most senior of them turned back to his former mentee. "This is a lot, Rafe," he said, sitting forward to brace himself on his forearms. "Quite a lot. Sheriff, got any coffee that isn't shit?"
The sheriff nodded and stood. Stiles followed him out to help when MacKenzie turned to his partner. "Jesus, Rafe," he exclaimed.
"He's my son," Rafe said, twisting to look back at Scott. "And his friends…they're just kids."
"But in order to get those eyes," Luis began, "they both had to kill another. An alpha steals another's power through death and the blue reflects the taking of an innocent life." Brad and Luis looked at Scott to answer, while MacKenzie leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.
Argent, however, interceded. "Scott is what they call a true alpha," he said as the Stilinski's returned to the room. Luis' mouth fell agape, looking wondrously up at the young alpha. "He earned those eyes and his power without having to kill anybody, rather through the virtue of his character."
A silence fell on the room for a moment, Brad looking curiously at the duo. He spoke first, again. "And Miguel?"
"Is actually Derek Hale," Stiles answered.
"As in…the Hale Family Arson?" Brad questioned. With a nod from the sheriff, he looked back at Derek. "That case crossed my desk years ago, but one of my superiors buried it. You should be much older."
"It's a long story," Scott offered.
"Your eyes, though?" Luis said, looking suspiciously at the young Hale boy.
"Yes, Derek killed a girl," Stiles continued. "His girlfriend Paige, when they were in high school. She was already dying, though. She was terminal. He did it to stop her pain." Stiles looked at Derek. "She died in his arms. He saved her, in a way." Derek looked right back at him, his expression soft, almost thanking him.
"This is all very complicated," Brad admitted, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Your last name is Argent," he continued, turning to the man at the far end of the table, "and your family is trying to kill a bunch of teen wolves. Please, help me put this puzzle together, starting with why you aren't trying to kill them."
"They're not just trying to kill them," Luis said. "The Argents are hunting them."
/ | * | * | \
The sun looked to be on its way toward sunset. It was almost 5 PM and in the back of Eichen House, ten commandos were preparing to breach the wall with line-explosives. Gerard was amongst them, carrying a hefty black duffle bag. Abruptly, there was an explosion near the gate and the hunters took their cue to breach. Inside, the building has blacked out, running only on auxiliary power. They made their way inside, going through the hall towards the staircase. The point men beanbagged any orderlies who tried to stop them. One-by-one they filed down to the supernatural floor. There, they made their way deeper into the unit, blowing a few doors along their way with minor charges.
When they arrived at their destination, Gerard popped a sinister smile. "Peter Hale," he announced when the werewolf came into view.
"Hello, Gerard," the former alpha greeted, yet to get up from his bed, sitting against the side wall with a book in hand. The patriarch dropped his bag noisily to the ground. "I see you're looking better. Your skin, it looks healthier."
"Thank you."
"And you came to see me with your newfound health. You didn't bring anymore kanimas with you, I hope?" Gerard simply smirked. "Damn. You see, not all the inmates like to share the ball in the yard and I could use some real unkillable muscle backing me up."
"Chatty as always."
Peter stood and shrugged, walking up to the glass. "That's why they keep me around I suppose."
"That time has come."
"You're not still pissed about Kate are you? I always told Derek she was trouble and it rubs off."
"You tried to murder my daughter and turned her into that monstrosity instead," Gerard said angrily, his expression mirroring that emotion.
"Not my finest moment. This town…unfortunately, some people just don't stay dead." The patriarch shifted. "Hey, she's the one who murdered my sister and my family. And burned me alive. All outside of your little code, which I see, yet again, has been suspended. As far as I'm concerned, your daughter deserved it and my only regret is not ripping out her whole throat." One of Gerard's men banged on the glass. Peter never broke his gaze with the old man, though. He watched him, feeling his rage through the protective glass. "That's it, Gerard. Get angry. Let's do this, once and for all. You and me!" He said this, all the while physically psyching himself out.
But Gerard just smirked at him. His signals of anger disappeared in a split second. "As poetic as that sound, Peter, I think I'll savor that for when I finally cut your daughter in half." It was Peter's turn to be pissed, his eyes glowing and claws and fangs emerging. It was his turn to smack at the glass, his murderous glare piercing into Gerard's eyes. Behind them, two beanbags were fired and two orderlies fell to the ground. "As you can see, we're a little pressed for time." Gerard crouched down and unzipped the duffle. "I don't think we signed in."
"C'mon, Gerard. It's been a long time coming, you and I."
"I suppose it has," he replied whilst one end wide. At the same time two men stepped forward and placed two small squares on the glass. "But alas," Gerard said, lifting a large gun with a drum underneath, resembling a KAC Stoner LMG, "you're out of time." The squares detonated a powerful vibration into the bulletproof glass as Peter took a step back and Gerard pulled the trigger.
He kept on firing, the glass shatter from the first bullet, the light machine gun loud and ricocheting throughout the halls. He fired until the metal became hot and couldn't fire anymore, it ammo drum depleted. When the noise stopped and the smoke from the debris of the wall cleared, Gerard peered in. Peter was slumped against the wall full of holes, he himself the same and bloody. His eyes were open and he looked dead. Gerard dropped the LMG and retrieved the same Desert Eagle as before from his own jacket.
"Check him," Gerard commanded. But as one of the hunters took a single step forward, Peter's finger twitched and Gerard just reacted. The headshot was messy. Peter was no longer recognizable from his neck up. One of the men shoved the heavy firearm into the duffle and they made their leave. As they went, however, the dumped canister after canister from their belts, each slightly large smoke grenade filled with particles of wolfsbane, mountain ash, and mistletoe.
/ | * | * | \
Scott and Derek walked off the elevator on the last floor of the latter's building. The Hale boy went to open the door to his loft when the alpha stopped him. "Derek, I don't…I don't know how long this age thing is gonna' last, but my friends—my pack—they're yours, too. If you want them. Us."
Derek beamed. He grabbed the front of Scott's shirt and pulled him forward. "You," he said before closing that last distance, pushing into a heated kiss, Scott's arm snaking around his waist. He pulled back and grinned. "I'm glad you said 'yes.'"
"Actually, I said 'I think I like him and I know he likes me so we'll figure it out,'" Scott corrected.
Derek only grinned wider. "So very glad," he said before pecking the alpha's lips and turning away. He opened the door and inside were Stiles, Lydia, Malia, Liam, Hayden, Corey, Mason, and Parrish.
"Sorry," Scott offered, "had to stop for has."
"And tongue," Liam blurted, earning him a hard smack to his chest from his girlfriend.
"It still feels like we're missing someone," Malia said, insinuating Kira's absence.
In turn, though, there were footsteps from atop the spiral staircase. "In this case, technically you are," came the amused voice of Deucalion. Scott was the only one that smiled at his presence, the rest, at a minimum, caught off guard. "Scott," the alpha greeted with an easier smile, stepping forward to shake the true alpha's hand. The 'demon wolf' looked over the pack, exchanging a brief look with Hayden before spotting Derek. "My, my. Derek Hale."
"I remember you," Derek said, cautious though. "You were at the gathering, with my mother and Ennis and that she-alpha."
"Kali."
"You were the reasonable one. But, there's something else, too. I can't quite place it."
"Fascinating," Deucalion remarked.
"Scott spoke to Peter yesterday," Stiles began. "What do you know about the 'smoking mirror?'"
"You're referring to the temple of the god of the nagual?" Stiles nodded. "Not much, I'm afraid. I know that the mirror is a piece of obsidian, but the one story I do know indicates that it's a center of great power."
"Like the nemeton," Stiles though aloud.
"But instead of a source, it's a hole," Deucalion mused, eliciting ponderous looks from the two humans.
"Well that still gets us nowhere," Liam offered.
Scott patted his beta's arm before returning to Deucalion. "What can you tell us about Helena Argent?"
"I'm starting to feel like Deaton," the alpha stated, eliciting a face from Scott. "I've never had the displeasure. Kali did tell me a story once, of how her alpha barely escaped a massacre orchestrated by the matriarch. She's a ruthless woman, more so than Gerard. She's been at war for a decade, fighting our kind. And others. She's the reason the hunters need a code." The pack stirred, Corey lacing his fingers with Mason's. "When is she supposed to arrive? Or is she—" The sliding door slammed open, revealing the devil herself, numerous hunters behind her. "Already here," Deucalion finished. He and Scott stepped forward. But behind them, roping down from the roof, six men crashed through the window, couching the pack between a lot of firepower.
"Scott McCall, Derek Hale, and Deucalion all in one room," Helena started, smiling sadistically at them. "What could a true alpha and the self-proclaimed 'Demon Wolf' have in common to form such an alliance?"
"Enemy of my enemy…" Scott offered.
"Surely there's more to it than that, Scott," Deucalion said, feigning offense. Scott peeked at him and smirked.
"Why're you doing this?" Scott said.
"Alexander. Katherine. Victoria. Allison," Helena answered.
"You didn't even know her!" Scott cried. Stiles took a step forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Your son told me all about you. How you left when Allison was only nine. How that was the last time you saw her alive. You didn't see her grow. You didn't see who she became. How she fought with us. Protected her friends. You don't get to claim her; she never would've joined you." Helena actually frowned.
"Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger leurs-même," Lydia continued, also stepping forward.
"It's your world that killed her," Helena challenged.
"It's your daughter that killed her!" Scott yelled. The line was clear to him. Clearer than anything else. If Kate hadn't murdered Talia Hale, Laura would never have become an alpha, and Peter wouldn't have killed the Argent daughter because he wouldn't have had a cause for revenge. And if he were never an alpha he wouldn't have bit Scott and he never would have been dragged into danger in the first place. No danger, no surrogate sacrifice, no dark kitsune, no death. He may not have even met Allison beyond class. He never would have heard her comment about forgetting a pen, so he wouldn't have caught her attention the first day. He wouldn't have made first line. Nothing.
At least, he tried to believe in that thread.
"So, just like Gerard, you throw the code out when it suits you," Deucalion said, patting Scott's back before stepping even closer. Two of the men clacked their guns and took aim.
"You have no grounds to lecture me on ethics," Helena retorted, still not breaking her glare with Scott.
"In point of fact, I like to think of it as doing you a favor," the alpha quipped with a smirk. "There's three packs you no longer have to deal with."
Helena broke her stare to look at the older man. She smirked, leaning a little towards the man on her left. "Shoot him first."
"Wait," Scott said, stepping forward next to Deucalion. "Let Stiles and Mason go. They're human. Please."
"They've both had their share of flirting with the supernatural," she responded.
"Wait, you're gonna' kill us in cold blood because we got possessed?" Stiles exclaimed, any fear he had converting to anger. "You know possession isn't voluntary, right?"
"I really don't think they care, Stiles," Malia said, her eyes glowing and her sharper features appearing; the imminent sense of danger had spiked.
"Kill them," Helena ordered. The first word barely left her mouth before each of the shifters prepared to attack; Jordan had even started catching his fists on fire and Lydia was prepared to scream. The hunters had only just lifted their guns and barely touched their fingers to the triggers when they hear a ding from something resembling a triangle. The shots never came and another half a second passed when four oni manifested, one between the pack and the window group, two between them and the door set, and one behind the latter and the door itself.
"Run!" yelled an unfamiliar voice. The pack made for the door. Deucalion was the first one out and seemingly followed a ninja down the long winding stairs. As the last person crossed the threshold—Parrish as it were—gunfire erupted, followed by yellowing and cries of pain and metal clashing against metal. They made it all the way down to the ground floor without incident, the sounds of fighting following them before Helena' voice could be heard, rallying her people to go after them.
The pack was too fast for them though, filing out of the lobby door and making for the garage. The parked SUVs came into sight and one man—a driver and seemingly the only hunter left behind—got out. He made to draw his sidearm when the ninja through a shuriken into his neck. "Follow me," he said, mounting his Kawasaki parked next to Scott's bike. The pack dispersed to get into—or on—their respective vehicles. The gunfire emerged in the lobby, but they paid it no mind in their hurry. They took off with haste, abandoning some cars in favor of carpooling just to get out of there. While a couple shots popped at them as they sped off, they were out of range in such a brief time, following the strange ninja that had just saved their lives.