Warning: There is a bit of blood toward the end of this chapter. Just be forewarned. :)

Stumbling down the hallway in her black satin heels, Lydia felt her pulse racing. She wonderedif her arm was broken but doubted it simply because she wasn't crippled by the pain. She'd broken her ankle once as a child, and the pain had consumed her leg until she felt it would spontaneously combust. While her arm hurt from being twisted backwards, it didn't hurt like she remembered.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, running her make-up, as Jackson pushed her through the server's hallways with a cruel velocity she could hardly keep up with. Thankfully, for the sake of her balance, he was partly carrying her as he shoved her along, so she didn't fall and break a leg. The dead, florescent light of the hallway filled her with a deep dread as they reached a door at the end of the section and shoved through it.

Jackson shoved her away from him, and she tripped, falling to her hands and knees on the floor. Shaking her arm as the blood rushed back into it making it sting as the nerves came back to life, she began shaking and pushed herself over to look back at him. Instead of Jackson, there stood the reptilian beast that had attacked her in the locker room. It hissed at her, its sharp teeth dripping with saliva, and her throat constricted.

"Jackson..." she whispered, scooting away from the kanima across the floor. Its tail flicked into the air, whipping gracefully over its back as it lowered onto all fours and stalked her, driving her into the corner of the dead end room filled with metal trays and empty stoves: some sort of abandoned kitchen. Apparently the kitchen was only used with large parties which needed catering to, and it had been cleaned and abandoned for tonight. Frantically looking around for something - anything - to defend herself, Lydia crawled backward on her hands as she searched. The kanima hissed at her again, not attacking her for some reason.

"Lydia Martin." The voice was vaguely familiar and surprised her enough to make her halt in her crawl and look across the room at its source. Allison's grandfather stood calmly along the far wall, his hands crossed over his waist, the fingers of his right hand flipping the small case he carried with him at all times over each of his fingers and back again. "How nice of you to join us."

Realizing the kanima wouldn't attack her until his master ordered him to do so, she felt it was safe to stand, and she pushed herself up, holding onto one of the metal carts for support. She was thoroughly trapped until Gerard decided to either kill her or got what he wanted out of her and possibly released her. She doubted the latter, figuring he would just kill her even if he got what he wanted, but she tried to hold on to a thread of hope she may live through the night.

"It has recently come to my attention that Peter Hale is not quite as dead as we'd believed," Gerard continued, moving from the wall and standing by the kanima who reacted like an obedient dog and wrapped his long, reptilian tail around the old man's legs and leaned against him even as he continued glaring tigerishly at Lydia. Finding her confidence, she stood up straighter and maintained eye contact with him as she responded.

"It's true."

"And you seem to have a unique connection with him," he pointed out, smiling slightly, a smile that didn't warm the room at all through its menace. Lydia didn't answer - it was a touchy subject for her since she hated how Peter continued to use her now that he was alive once again - but merely watched the old hunter with wary eyes.

"You're going to tell me what he's up to, girly," Gerard commanded, the kanima hissing at his feet. She glanced from Gerard to the kanima warily, and swallowed heavily.

"I... don't know what you mean," she lied, her voice shaking and betraying her at the worst moment.

Gerard smiled knowingly and dropped his free hand to rest tranquilly on the kanima's head. "I do believe you're lying. I despise lying, Miss Martin."

Before she could react, the kanima moved so quickly he knocked the air out of her as her back hit the wall behind her. Its claws wrapped fully around her throat, pinning her in place even as she kicked her feet to get away. Her efforts were fruitless against the creature that wouldn't even die from several gunshot wounds. Her hands clasped onto the creature's wrists, trying to give herself more room to breathe, but it was no use. She was trapped.

Derek pushed through the teenagers meandering out of the dance and entered the dark ballroom where he'd left Lydia. His night vision aided him as he scanned the room, not seeing her in the crowd of young adults. Frowning, he recognized Stiles and Scott across the room and moved toward them with inhuman speed.

"Have you seen Lydia?" he asked them, catching their attention as he arrived so suddenly.

"I saw her about an hour ago. We danced..." Stiles answered, his tone flat, betraying the hurt he'd endured over Lydia admitting he would never be more than her friend.

"An hour ago?" Derek asked, exasperatedly. Stiles nodded and Scott shrugged in agreement. He had obviously been mooning over Allison all night, and Derek had no time for their teenage Romeo and Juliet drama. "What about Jackson?"

"Last I saw him, he was headed toward the back of the ballroom toward that table..." Scott pointed toward the notably-empty tables, "...right there."

A warning pinged in Derek's mind. Lydia was nowhere to be found, and Jackson had noticeably disappeared. The plan was falling apart. Lydia could already be dead.

"Damn," he cursed, beginning to move in the direction Scott had pointed.

"What's wrong?" Stiles asked, his concern for the girl he still loved rising as he sensed something off about the situation. Derek shook his head, his jaw clenching as he stalked in the direction of the tables, pushing through teenagers who were drunk from the spiked punch and hormonal overload.

"Lydia... the plan..." he growled as he emerged from the crowd, followed closely by Stiles like a nervous puppy.

"The plan to save Jackson?" Stiles asked anxiously. Derek nodded vehemently and drew in a deep breath, shaking his head in disgust as the scent of the kanima filled his sensitive nostrils.

"It's not going to work," he answered simply, following the scent as best he could now that it had faded. They must have been gone for twenty or thirty minutes at least. So much time... Lydia could already be dead, and someone else could be next. More casualties until Gerard got what he wanted.

"What do you mean 'it's not going to work'? You mean, Lydia's in danger?" Stiles asked, his voice raising tensely as he jogged to keep up with Derek.

"Stay here, Stiles!" Derek commanded, the teenager stopping in his tracks immediately. "Keep an eye on the dance and make sure no one gets hurt. I'll find Lydia..." His words trailed off, leaving unsaid the fear he felt that he may already be too late. At that, he turned and raced into the waiters' hallways and left Stiles behind.

"Let's try this again. What does Peter want?" Gerard demanded, flipping the small metal case around in his fingers as if they were old friends having tea and he didn't have a pet snake holding her life in his hands.

Struggling against the painful hold Jackson had around her neck, she grimaced as the kanima's claws dug into the skin at the back of her neck. Anyone else would already be paralyzed, but she was as immune to the kanima's venom as she was to Peter's bite, and she merely felt the pain from the wound. The claws pierced her skin, drawing blood, and she whimpered as she felt the heat of her own blood wetting the hair at the base of her skull.

"I told you, I don't know!" she exclaimed forcibly.

"Jackson..." she said, forcing herself to look into the kanima's menacing eyes, remembering her ex-boyfriend was in there somewhere. "I know it's you. I know you see me. I know you don't want to kill me."

"Oh, but he does want to kill you, sweetheart," Gerard purred with a deadly smile. "He wants to kill you if I want to kill you. He's only holding back because I need you alive... for now."

Tears ran out of her eyes, and she steeled herself against those reptilian eyes as she stared at him. "Jackson... you're the son of Gordon and Margaret Miller..." The pain at the back of her neck was so much her words stuttered even as she tried to continue. Sensing what she was attempting, Gerard mentally commanded the kanima to tighten his grip, and suddenly, she could hardly breathe as her throat began to be crushed by the creature. Kicking wildly, clawing at the scaly paw that held her helpless against the wall, she cried and tried to scream but no sound could leave her throat.

"Now, now, Lydia," Gerard scolded calmly. "It's not that easy. Jackson already knows all of that, you see. You think by telling him about his parents, that will save him?" He tsk-ed gently and shook his head, a wry smile crossing his evil face. "Such a foolish little girl. Jackson is mine as long as I want him. He does what I want him to do, and that is how it will always be."

The kanima hissed menacingly and snapped his teeth at her. The grip around her throat loosened just enough for her to get a good breath, but her esophagus burned from the pain and she couldn't speak. Her plan was failing, and Gerard had confirmed it wouldn't save Jackson. She felt hopeless as she stared into those fathomless, evil eyes and realized she was going to die.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash, and a man burst into the room, metal carts rolling wildly away from the door he'd broken through and colliding with the walls and stoves in a cacophony of metallic screeching. The kanima hissed in irritation but never loosened his grip as Gerard spun around to face the intruder.

Derek shook himself and took in the scene - Lydia pinned helplessly to the wall, the kanima holding her there, and Gerard: the puppet master - and anger washed over him in a mighty wave. Roaring, his eyes turned red and his fangs grew instantly as the red hot rage swept through his veins. Leaping for Gerard, he missed as the crafty old man dodged him and ran for the door. Derek turned to lunge after him but came up short as he heard Lydia scream behind him, his focus shot by that one sound. Turning, he saw her on the floor, the kanima hovering over her with his deadly tail against her throat, his claws perched on her chest over her heart.

"No, please no!" she screamed, her heart beating so fast she could hear it in her ears. Her hands remained free, and instead of swinging and trying to battle the monster off of her, she did the only other thing she could think of.

Reaching up, she gripped the creature's face and braced herself, pulling herself up and kissing it on its scaly mouth. The action surprised the beast, its green eyes widening as the human kissed it. With her eyes closed, Lydia saw none of this, but did her best to imagine she was kissing something other than a monstrous reptile. Derek halted in surprise, his black heart leaping to his throat in a strange, painful pang. The danger tremored around the room like an earthquake, and he was frozen as Lydia kissed the kanima, her petite hands cupping the creature's scaled face and her soft lips pressed against its mouth.

When she needed a breath, she fell back away from the kanima, realizing what she'd imagined to help her survive the kiss. The realization made her eyes snap open, and she was surprised when it wasn't the scaled face of a killer beast, but Jackson staring down at her, his gray-blue eyes widened in shock and fear. Her heart leapt in triumph as he frantically looked down at her and then scrambled off of her, his eyes darting around the room. His clothes had somehow magically remained on him, although they were torn and tattered now.

Feeling the blood running down the back of her neck, and realizing there was a new pain in her stomach, Lydia tried to move but found she was spent. Jackson scrambled against the wall, and Derek grabbed him, slamming him against the tile furiously.

"Derek! I... what did I do?" Jackson asked wildly, comprehension dawning in his eyes.

"You remember?" Derek asked him, his claws tearing into Jackson's shirt as he held him firmly against the wall.

"I... Lydia..." he glanced toward her, but Derek forced him to look into his face and continue. "I killed... all those people..."

He remembered. She had done it. Lydia had saved him, but at what price? She lay bloodied on the floor, with worse injuries than she knew. And at what price to Derek? To his heart? Peter was right: love was the only way to save the kanima. The news hit Derek harder than he wished, and he angrily released Jackson, tossing him toward the open door to the room.

"Get out of here before the cops show up," Derek ordered angrily, "I'll deal with you, and that old man, later." Looking down at Lydia with a nauseous look on his face, Jackson seemed about to protest, but, at Derek's glare, turned and ran away down the hallway.

Turning to Lydia, Derek fell down on his knees and pulled her into his lap. Lydia smiled up at him, the pain in her stomach aching and burning so that she didn't bother to lift her arms. All she felt the strength to do was smile.

"We did it, Derek," she stated softly, happily.

"You did it, Lydia," he corrected her, examining the wound in her stomach and realizing Jackson's claws had stabbed her in surprise when she'd kissed him, narrowly missing her heart and puncturing her abdomen instead. Blood stained her green dress, and he noticed the back of her hair was wet with blood as well as her head rested in his lap.

"He's Jackson again," her voice sounded wistful to him, and that pain in his chest replayed itself to his chagrin. "Yes, he's Jackson again."

"Derek..." she started, trying to sit up but wincing and falling back into his lap from the pain of the wound in her stomach.

"Relax, it's done. Jackson is... Jackson again. Now I just have to deal with Gerard."

Gently, he placed his free hand over her belly. His veins glowed red and he winced slightly as Lydia felt the pain of her stab wound fading. It still ached when he removed his hand and sighed tiredly, but she knew it was no longer fatal.

"How did you...?"

He managed a smile, a private smile she somehow knew was reserved for her, and he shrugged. "It's one of the perks of being a- AHHH!"

Derek cried out and bent over her, an arrow piercing his back only inches above his heart. Lydia gasped as he fell over her, his face only inches from her own. Automatically, her hands went to his face, catching him and holding him despite the ache remaining in her own body. Gathering her strength, she shifted her body enough so she could see through the broken doorway, to see a silhouette of Allison holding a bow with another arrow knocked and ready.

"Allison! No!" The pain in her gut was still strong, but she managed to sit up, feeling her own blood leech from the wound Derek hadn't been able to fully heal. "Lydia... don't.." Derek reprimanded her, still bossy even when he was shot with a silver arrow. "Shush," she silenced him, a petite finger touching his lips as she tried to stand.

Although Derek had healed the major part of the wound, he hadn't completely healed her, and she could feel the blood starting to leak out as she strained herself. Allison glared emotionlessly down at the werewolf, ignoring her best friend as Lydia tried to rise.

"Don't get in the way, Lydia. He killed my mother; he's mine."

"Allison, don't do this. You don't understand..."

"I understand perfectly well. He's a murderer. He deserves to die." Heartlessly, Allison pulled back on the arrow and Lydia watched, as if in slow motion, as the arrow left the bow and flew toward Derek.

Derek who had saved her life from the kanima in the locker room at school; Derek who had been working with her the past month to find a way to save Jackson although he disliked the boy. Derek who had just saved her from a fatal wound and taken an arrow because of something he didn't even do.

Summoning what little strength she had, Lydia pushed herself up and over, diving in front of him as the arrow swiftly flew at his heart. As the silver shaft pierced her skin, she saw Allison's eyes widen and her grip on the bow go limp, dropping the weapon as her own arrow stabbed her best friend through the shoulder. Lydia fell to the floor, crying out in pain as she caught herself on her hands and rolled over to her back, grimacing and groaning with the pain.

"Lydia!" Allison and Derek cried simultaneously. Allison ran to her friend, falling to her knees beside her as Derek gripped the arrow in his back and tore it from his skin, blood spraying from the wound and weakness washing over him. Silver. It had to be silver.

Tossing the arrow away across the floor, the werewolf drug himself to Lydia's side, his brow drawing down in worry as her hand tightened around the arrow and she coughed in dry heaves from the pain. Her skin and body was weaker than his, and the arrow had pierced through her shoulder, the head of it sticking out of her back. Her face was pale and she gripped the arrow shaft so tightly her fingers turned white.

"You shot me..." she managed between gasps. Allison had begun crying.

"I'm so sorry, Lydia! I never... I didn't mean..." Allison yammered, almost incoherently.

"She didn't mean to shoot you, she meant to shoot me," Derek stated calmly, gently placing his hand over Lydia's smaller one. Lydia looked up at him, complete trust in her eyes, something that threw him off for a moment. No one trusted him, not Scott, or Stiles, or Allison, or any of them. But he could tell by that one look that Lydia trusted him completely.

"Do it. I know you have to do it, so just do it," she stated firmly, setting her jaw stubbornly. Derek nodded and tore the left sleeve off of his jacket, rolling it and putting it in her mouth, "Bite down on this. And you should probably close your eyes, but that's entirely up to you."

Allison gripped Lydia's hand and cried silently to herself as Lydia bit down on the fabric and shook her head. Instead of closing her eyes, she looked directly into Derek's eyes with a headstrong gaze. Nodding in respect for her wish to have her eyes open, he snapped the head of the arrow off and quickly pulled the shaft out through her arm. She screamed into the fabric and her legs writhed from the pain, but she managed to do it with her eyes open the whole time. Sliding his arm under her back, he sat her up and supported her as he removed his torn jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders to help soak up some of the blood.

"We need to get you to a hospital," he stated even as he felt his own body weaken from the silver that had leeched into his system from the first arrow. "Allison," he spoke the girl's name firmly and bitterly, looking over at her with his ice blue eyes. The brunette looked up at him through tear-stained eyes, her hatred for him lessened by her friend's act of protection over him. "Take her to the hospital now before she loses any more blood."

"What about you," Lydia stated stiffly, stubbornly resisting as Allison tried to guide her out of the room. "That arrow... the silver..."

Derek offered her that private smile, trying to calm her although he was panicking on the inside. "I'll be fine. Silver's not all the myths crack it up to be." He was lying, and he sensed she would be able to tell, but she didn't argue with him. Instead, she allowed Allison to lead her away. Only after they were gone down the hallway did Derek allow himself to sink to the floor tiredly. Silver... It had to be silver... He passed out in a puddle of his and Lydia's blood.