we aren't who we used to be Chapter 2: Part 2, a teen wolf fanfic

I'm still writing this story at the moment so I don't know how many parts this is going to be split into. I'm currently around the episode Fury in terms of writing-wise. FFNet is being weird and deleting my line breaks again.

we aren't who we used to be

part 2/?

Scott shouldn't be at work this late, but he lets himself in regardless. He'll pretend he's doing extra hours or something if Deaton captures him, but he remembers that his boss knows he's a werewolf. With a wince he peels his top up to examine where Derek's claws had gone into his side.

"Why aren't you healing?" he moans, reaching for the antiseptic. He wishes for the first time in a long while that Stiles was there with him, making a face and complaining about the ugly red of the wound, not to mention the blood.

"Because it's from an Alpha." Scott would drop his shirt if it wasn't for the fact it would get bloodier than it was already. "It will still heal, it will just take longer." His head snaps up, staring at where - as he predicted - Deaton had found him. His hand trembles and the bottle in his hand slips slightly, dropping down.

It crashes onto the floor and Scott curses as it shatters, "Oh god, I'm so sorry," he says, and decides to give up on his shirt. He lets it go, wincing as he leans down to the broken glass, "Everything is just slipping through my fingers lately."

"That's a world-weary thing to say, Scott," Deaton moves over to help, "Maybe a different perspective. This?" he grabs a brush and sweeps up the broken glass, "This is entropy at work. The natural way of the universe. But that doesn't mean it's falling apart. Not yet. It's just… changing shape. Like you." he straightens, emptying the broken glass into a nearby bit, "Maybe we should have a talk. I need to show you something."

"What is it?" Scott winces as the shirt clings to the open wound. Deaton wordlessly passes him some gauze and bandage. He looks to where a sheet covers something on the metal examination table. It smells like wood and gun powder and blood.

"This," Deaton draws back the cloth. Scott winces at seeing the body there. "Two hunters were killed in the woods. Both ripped apart. One was a wolf kill. And this?" he pulls on gloves, then shows Scott the careful slices through the flesh, "This was something else."

"Do you know what it is?" Scott asks, rather desperately, "I mean… you know about me… and… how much do you know? I thought you were a veterinarian?"

"I am," Deaton gives a cryptic smile, "But I also sometimes specialise in some of the more… exotic types of animals. The thing that did this however…" he gestures, "I don't know what did this."

"There was a lizard-thing," Scott says, "Allison and I saw it the other day."

"That's a good start," Deaton nods, covering the body back up, "You'll have to go - the Argents are coming back to see what happened to their hunter. You wouldn't want them to catch you here."

"But… wait…" Scott resists Deaton's attempts to ferry him into the back room, "If you know about this stuff you must have books. Information. Something!"

"I don't," Deaton shakes his head, "But the Argents will. And this is the crucial part, they'll have a record or book. It'll have descriptions, histories, notations, of all the things that they've discovered. You should find what you need in there…" there is the tinkle of the bell and Deaton shoots Scott a wary look. "Good luck," he says, then slams the door closed on him.

Scott stays, holding his breath as footsteps echo through the clinic.

"I think I'm going to have to buy a more prominent closed sign." Deaton greets whoever has just arrived. "I thought Chris was with you." the vet's tone is pleasant.

"He was," someone steps into the room, "But it appears, good doctor, that there has been another kill." Gerard's voice echoes through to where Scott hides. "Alan. It's been a long time - I had heard you had retired."

"I am retired," Deaton says cautiously, "But unfortunately nobody else seems to get the message." There is the rustling of sheets being drawn back. "I believe this is one of your hunters."

"Yes. Good kid - 24 - quick mind and a good shot." Gerard sounds critical, but completely uncaring.

"I imagine he'd have to be, considering the type of game you usually end up hunting."

"Did you find anything interesting, Dr Deaton, or am I wasting my time here?"

"See this cut? It's precise and almost surgical, but it wasn't the wound that killed him. This had a more interesting purpose."

"To do with the spine."

"That's right. Whatever made this cut, it's laced with a paralytic toxin, potent enough to disable all motor functions. These are the cause of death. Notice the patterns on each side." There is movement and Deaton clears his throat, "See? Five marks for five fingers or claws. As you can see whatever did this dug in and slashed upwards, eviscerating the lungs and slicing through the bone of the rib cage with ease."

Scott winces where he hides, because anything powerful enough to cut through bone is dangerous. It's a risk and it's still running loose. Judging by the fact Chris isn't around, means there must be another body.

The wolves and hunters haven't even begun to fight and already there are people dropping like flies.

"Have you seen something like this before?" Gerard asks.

"No," there is the sound of gloves being taken off. "But I can tell you that whatever did this is fast. Strong. It has the capacity to render it's victims helpless within seconds. You and your hunters should be afraid, because when predators use paralytic toxins, it's usually to incapacitate their prey to eat later. But this? This wasn't eaten. That means whatever killed him only wanted to kill him. In fact, killing may be its only purpose."

Scott's heard enough. He slips out, avoiding the pile of boxes heads out through the back room. The door creaks slightly on his way out as he closes it, not quite clicking the latch because that would make too much noise. It's dark out now, and looking at his watch, Scott curses, because he knows he's meant to be meeting Allison, but at this rate he's going to be too late.

He hovers, spotting his bike where he left it. Relieved, he starts towards it, missing the crunch of gravel until there is hand on his shoulder, spinning him around.

He barely gets a chance to see Gerard standing there, before the knife sinks into his stomach. He chokes, hand going to the blade even as the old man steps forwards, fingers clenching cruelly into Scott's shoulder. "Hello Scott." Gerard smiles, "Fancy seeing you here."

"Scott?" Allison calls, rubbing her hands together for warmth. She jogs one of her legs up and down in impatience, wondering where he is. She glances at her watch. She wonders if he found Boyd at all, and wishes their phones weren't monitored so she and Scott could communicate at least via text. She can barely even talk to Lydia or Jackson without her mother raising a suspicious eyebrow.

Her teeth are chattering when she finally moves. She's been waiting at least half an hour, she thinks, but after glancing at her watch again she realises it's longer even. Her heart sinks slightly but she understands that something must have happened or held him up. She turns her back to the outlook, heading to her car. There is the rumble of an engine in the distance.

She brightens up, because that must be Scott now. She wonders why he's driving, since he usually likes to bound through the forest like the creature of the night that he is.

She skips slightly as she heads down to where she's parked her car near the outlook. An engine is dying and she peers at the vehicle, just as its headlights switch off. With a sigh she begins heading over, calling out as she goes, "Scott?"

A door opens and Allison pauses, suddenly nervous. Scott would have shouted something out by now. She slowly draws out one of her ring daggers, newly sharpened since Stiles returned them and steps forwards, spinning it slowly around, peering forwards.

The door slams and someone moves into view, Allison flinching back as the person startles, letting out a loud yell.

For a werewolf, Allison thinks as her heart tries to beat its way out of her chest, Stiles is still stupidly clumsy. She closes her eyes, lowering her dagger. She recognises the jeep now she's down the hill, and on the floor in front of her Stiles blinks up at her. He's flailed in alarm and tripped over backwards, landing ass first on the leaf strewn ground.

"I didn't give those back just so you could stab me again!" Stiles looks like a startled deer, which considering he's a wolf is weird enough as it is. He grabs his phone and stands, looking jumpy, "What the hell are you doing out here at this time of night?" He blinks at her, and then is distracted almost instantly, making a groaning noise as he presses a button on his phone. "Oh come on," he mumbles.

"What am I doing out here?" Allison snorts, "What are you doing out here?"

"I-" Stiles opens his mouth, "I…" he looks like he's trying to find a good lie, "I've decided to play to the stereotypes. The big bad wolf hanging out in the deep dark woods." He leers, and one of his canines has sharpened for dramatic effect or something.

Allison shoves his playfully, "Stop that." She laughs, "I'm not exactly little red here."

"You're the hunter, though," Stiles raises one eyebrow, "Should I be scared?"

"Not yet." Allison teases, "So seriously. What are you doing here?"

Stiles waves his phone about, "Something for my dad," he says, and somehow Allison knows he's telling the truth. "I wasn't planning on doing it in the middle of the night," he elaborates, with a weak grin, "But I got side-tracked by blonde beauties who wanted to seduce me."

Allison's face crinkles in confusion, "In your dreams, maybe."

"No, no - have you seen Erica lately?" Stiles whistles, "She's like a little blonde spitfire. Like Catwoman, claws and all. It was really daunting. I had to take her back to her owner, and…" he winces, "Then Derek chucked me and Scott around."

Her hands go to her mouth, "Is Scott okay?"

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." Stiles actually reaches for the collar of his shirt, pulling it down. Allison can see that it's not meant to have that black stain on it - and that the stain is actually red and it's because there are deep claw marks across Stiles' collar bone. "Scott's fine too. He popped by the Shaman Dude's place to find a bandage."

"Who?"

"His boss," Stiles says, trying to wave Allison off as she leans forwards to look at the scratches, "Hey, ow, that hurts."

"Shouldn't they be healing?"

Stiles just shrugs, "I don't know. But they're definitely better than they were two hours ago."

"Here." Allison fiddles with her car keys, trying to unlock her car, "I've got antiseptic and bandages in my car. I'll put some on - I don't want it getting infected." She wrinkles her nose as she reaches in for her first aid kit, "You never know where Derek's claws have been."

Despite still looking reluctant, the other teenager follows her, even letting her force him into sitting down as she dabs at the cuts with a ball of cotton wool. He hisses.

"Don't be such a baby," she mocks, unpeeling a bandage, "There." She finishes up, admiring her handiwork, "Now you're all good to go wandering around the preserve doing favours for your dad."

Stiles sighs exaggeratedly, glancing at his watch. Allison doesn't even want to know how late it is now, "At this rate I'll be better off coming back tomorrow night."

"What are you doing, anyway?" she frowns, curious even though she probably shouldn't be. Stiles didn't want to tell her the first time, why should he want to tell her this time?

Surprisingly he answers her, leaning sideways onto the backseat, "My dad's going through old cases, looking for anything supernatural related. He thinks he might have found one so I'm following it up for him."

"That's really nice," she meets his gaze. He looks surprised, but nods weakly, "If you need any help, you know where to find me," she offers, "And I'm sorry to kick you out of my back seat, but I really should be getting back." She winces, "Looks like Scott isn't going to show."

There is a screeching cry in the distance and Stiles pulls a face, "God, I hate coyotes." He mumbles as he slips out, standing up, "They always sound like they're mauling some poor defenceless little animal." He glances to Allison and she's suddenly aware of how close he is, and she steps back, letting him step past her, "I should probably give this a miss," he gestures at the dark uninviting forest around them, "I'm not even sure where I'm meant to be heading…" he hits his phone against his hand, "I think I killed my phone," he pulls a face, "Thank you." he gestures at Allison, "For scaring the living crap out of me as well."

"Me?" Allison sounds indignant, "You scared me as well, dumbass."

"You should know better, coming into the woods at night," Stiles opens his jeep door, "After all," the light from the jeep makes his eyes flare slightly, "There are wolves about."

"You are so cheesy," she rolls her eyes, circling her car to the driver's door, "I'll see you around."

His laughter is still ringing after her as she closes her door and starts the engine. "See you around, Ally Cat."

Sirens ring out and lights flash. The Sheriff closes his eyes tiredly, as he watches everybody get to work. The call had come in too late, and by the time they got there all they had was a body lying in a pool of blood on the floor of the garage.

"Stiles," John Stilinski tries his son's phone again, only for it to ring uselessly, "There's another murder. The garage you take your jeep to. It's… there're finding traces of paralytic venom and this guy… he looks like he was clawed up by something. Phone me back." he ends the call and turns around, sighing, only to find Chris Argent standing right there.

"You know."

It's not a question.

He steps back, away from the lights and police sirens, "About what?" he asks, "About how you tried to kill my son? About how your sister did actually kill a whole family of innocents because of what they were?"

Chris' face twists, "I'm not like Kate," he says, "And Stiles is still alive, isn't he?"

"Am I meant to be grateful?" John snaps, then gestures behind him, "Do you know what did this?"

"No," the hunter shakes his head, "But we're looking into it," he gazes towards where they're bringing the body out. John wonders what 'it' is.

"Just keep my son out of it," John steps forwards, "He's got no part in this."

"But he's not entirely innocent, is he?" Chris asks, slowly. His words have a weight to them that makes John tremble in a mixture of worry and rage.

"If you kidnap my son again…"

"We never kidnapped him…" Chris grinds out.

"Regardless," the Sheriff shrugs, "If you kidnap my son, I'll have you arrested for human trafficking. And that will be the least of your troubles. I'll track down every unsolved murder case with wolfsbane bullets and link them back to your family. I'll smear your name through the mud so that you can't set foot outside without being hounded by reporters. You'll be locked up for a very, very long time. Understood?"

Chris looks uncomfortable, but he nods, sharply.

Message understood.

"Don't move," Gerard looks over Scott's shoulder, "I can practically feel the tissue around the blade trying to heal." He sounds disbelieving, "Your good vet won't be out to help you now."

"What did you do to him?" Scott gasps out.

"Nothing," Gerard leans back to see Scott's eyes, "Not to him, at any rate. But your good mother on the other hand…"

Scott chokes, tasting blood in his mouth.

"No harm needs come to her," Gerard smiles, "But I'm just going to need one little favour from you."

"What?" Scott winces as the blade twists again.

"Not yet," Gerard says, "For now you can keep maintaining your "average broken-hearted teenage boy" act and I'll play the nice doddering grandpa who likes to cook and tell stories and be sweet and charming. But a time will come when I need you to do something for me, and you will do it, or this blade will find your mother's heart."

Scott chokes out, trying to summon up words. Each millimetre the blade moves it like white hot needles stabbing into him.

"Do you understand?" Gerard leans forwards, his full weight on the blade, dragging it down and Scott groans.

"Yes," he says, because he has no other choice. His mom knows nothing about werewolves or hunters and if she ends up hurt because of him…

He wonders if this is what Stiles felt like when Peter dug his claws into his neck and told him to join his pack or else…

"Good," Gerard's gone suddenly, knife out and hand no longer on his shoulder. The sudden loss of it has Scott doubled over, trying to find his balance. The world spins and his head is dizzy. Blood drips between his fingers, landing on the ground in a brilliant crimson tear.

There is the sound of an engine and when he looks up into headlights the car is already rolling backwards away from him.

The car reverses away, and Scott is left alone, standing, hand pressed to a wound that's already healed on the outside.

But on the inside the blade twists just a little deeper.

"I told you to avoid Stiles!" Derek rounds on Erica angrily, "I told you: Not. To. Go. Near him."

She juts out her chin stubbornly, and it's already an improvement in confidence from the person she had been only the day before, "I don't understand why we have to avoid him. He's no more dangerous than Scott is."

Derek spins around with a snarl, because how can he explain. Neither Erica nor Isaac nor Boyd were there when Stiles and Peter had their own little pack. Neither know what the pair did.

He doesn't tell them either. He doesn't tell them about Peter or how Stiles threatened to rip his throat out and then actually attempted to make good on that promise. He doesn't say that he's actually scared, that Stiles reminds him of Peter and if the omega turned around and ripped his throat out he wouldn't be surprised. Because while Stiles may not be strong enough for a full on fight, Stiles isn't one to play by the rules.

There is movement out of the corner of his eye and without even looking Derek reaches out, grabbing Isaac around the throat and throwing him away. "Try not to be so predictable," he sighs, because he's got a lot of work to do.

Erica surges forwards, grabbing the collar of his leather jacket and pressing her lips to hers. Derek shoves her away with ease, sighing, "Don't do that again." He chides her. "Not everyone will fall to seduction."

She shoves herself up angrily. That's what he likes about Erica. She always pushes herself back up. Next to her Isaac is slower, but he takes everything in. He's the quiet boy nobody notices, but there is potential there too for loyalty and strength.

Derek just needs to find it.

"If they wanted us dead why aren't they coming for us now?" Isaac asks, and Derek knows he's talking about the hunters, "What are they waiting for?"

"There's something else out there." Derek says, "It killed Isaac's father. And someone else last night. That means there aren't just hunters out there. There are hunters and this thing, killing people. So I need to teach you everything I know as quickly as possible."

He gestures to Isaac and Erica, "Again," he tells them.

Isaac goes high and Erica swipes down low. Derek jumps over Erica, barrelling Isaac aside and then turning around to knock Erica back. He sighs. He's got a lot of work to do.

"Again."

"You, actually go to school here?" Lydia narrows her eyes in suspicion at the dark haired boy who trails behind her in the corridor. It's the same guy who helped her the other night and then left her alone in the woods. His blue eyes sparkle as he dodges the crowds, keeping pace with her.

"Is that such a surprise?" he asks with a grin.

"You look a bit too old to still be in school."

"I'm the basketball captain." There is something odd about that, she thinks, but she can't work out what.

She stops by where Scott is moping on the stairs, dropping a piece of paper in his hands. He unfolds it excitedly and Lydia backs away, letting him read it and then scramble for a pen to scrawl ot a reply.

"Here," he says, barely looking up, "Can you take this to her?" his eyes are brown and pleading and Lydia can't resist.

She takes it, spinning around on her heels and the guy skids to a stop, turning and trying to keep up with her, "Why are you running back and forth? You're like an owl, carrying messages. It's kind of pathetic."

"Why are you following me around?" Lydia asks, narrowing her eyes and pausing in the doorway. She half-turns to the guy whose name she doesn't even know, "You know what is pathetic?" Lydia smiles thinly, "Those two moping over each other because they've been forbidden to date. So I'm actually doing my piece of good for the world," she shrugs, "What have you done today?"

"Well actually I did my piece of good the other night when I helped a lost girl find her phone," he smirks smugly, "And now I'm checking that's she's alright and doesn't need to be seeing the guidance councillor."

Lydia snorts, "Please. The Canadian who speaks French who thinks she can work as a guidance councillor?"

"She actually has a Masters in behavioural psychology." The boy points out, "It's framed behind her desk." Lydia flashes an unimpressed smile and makes as if to go, but the boy reaches out, as if to grab her arm. The one where Peter bit her.

She flinches away.

"Sorry," he says, "Wait… look, I just wanted to talk. You seem like a nice girl and I just wanted to get to know you." his eyes are pleading and he is rather attractive, Lydia thinks. She just hums for now. It's neither an agreement nor a rejection.

"Maybe," she says, "But you're going to have to try harder than that," she gently presses one finger into his sternum, forcing him to take a step backwards, "Maybe with less of the creepy vibes as well." Without waiting for a reaction she turns and steps outside, hopping down the steps towards where Allison is studying. The piece of paper with their romantic poetry is clutched in her hand and she drops it in front of Allison.

Her friend looks up, startled, but grabs the paper to read. Lydia glances back up the stairs to see if the blue-eyed boy is still watching her but he's lost in the crowd already.

She remembers suddenly what is so odd about that guy who claimed to be a basketball captain at the school.

Their school doesn't have a basketball team.

"Hey," Allison looks up, "Can you take back a reply?"

"What? No." Lydia crosses her arms, "I'm not an owl." She narrows her eyes, "You know, drug dealers have been using disposable cellphones pretty successfully for years."

Allison ducks her head, hair slipping over her face, "My parents check every text, every call, every phone." She looks embarrassed, but then so would Lydia if her parents tried to do that. Especially between her and Jackson. "Look, can you tell Scott I'm coming to the game tonight? I'll find a time to talk to him then."

"No," Lydia pulls her phone out of her bag and gives it to Allison. Her friend frowns, looking over it.

"Why are you giving me your phone?"

Lydia pulls a face, "Really? You. Call. Scott. But use my phone. Just try not to use up all my minutes."

"Really?" Allison asks, head already ducked as she scrolls through Lydia's contacts for Scott's number. He picks up stupidly quickly, and he's probably still sitting on the stairs, waiting for Lydia to come back with a reply.

If they want someone to run messenger then they can get Stiles or Jackson to run between them, both of whom are in far better condition to run away. Lydia's getting better, especially considering that incident in the school last month, but these heels?

Not made for running.

"Okay, I'll put you on speaker," Allison says, and from where she's perched on the bench Lydia tilts her head as Allison holds her phone out, "Scott says there might be something telling us about what that lizard-thing is. Some sort of compendium of mythical creatures."

"You mean a bestiary?"

"I think you mean bestiality." Allison grins slightly sheepishly.

"No, I'm pretty sure I don't." Lydia's tone is smug, "You hear that Scott? Your super vet is probably talking about a bestiary. It's a record of different animals and creatures."

Scott's voice comes through the speaker - and god he even sounds like a lost puppy - "I think you mean…"

"Oh my god - you two get your minds out of the gutter," Lydia cuts off his bemused words, "That book will tell us what we need to know." She looks up at Allison, "Do you think your family has anything like this?"

Allison shakes her head, "I've been through everything already, remember? But… my grandfather… he might have something like that. What would it look like?"

"Like an old book," Scott says over the phone, "Probably leather bound."

Allison frowns and nods, "Yeah, he has something like that. I don't know where he keeps it though."

"What about his office?"

"How the hell are we going to get into his office?" Scott sounds desperate, and Lydia is seriously considering checking he's not tearing his hair out.

Luckily Allison just shrugs, "It's easy. Anyone can do it - all we need are his keys." She bites her lip, contemplating something, "But Scott probably shouldn't be caught sneaking into my grandfather - who is also our school principal by the way - his office."

Lydia hates the way her best friend's gaze has drifted upwards. "Why are you looking at me?

Scott once again sits uncomfortably on the bench, listening to Coach's pre-game prep that mostly involves threats and briberies.

"And who the hell is that?" Coach sneers at where the opposing team are gathered. He's gesturing at a large guy, and Scott is slightly intimidated despite his werewolf inclination, "What the hell is he on?" Coach whistles. "I wanna see a birth certificate. Who or what is that genetic experiment gone wrong?"

"That's Eddie Abramovitz," Jackson looks like he's swallowed something sour as he stalks up. "They call him the Abomination."

"Oh, cute," Coach looks disgusted. "If someone knocks him out of the game…" he gestures to the team, "Instant pass in my class."

While the rest of the team contemplate the merits of the pain versus the free pass, Scott steps up to Jackson, "Dude - are you okay?" he asks, because Jackson looks pale, his skin clammy.

Jackson glares at him, "I'm fine." He says.

"Lydia says your bite didn't do anything. Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Jackson snaps, "I'm as sure as a guy can be while watching a video of myself for the entire night of the full moon!"

Scott's face creases, "Dude - you filmed yourself?" he asks, and then his brain catches up, "Oh my god - were you making a sex tape?"

The jock's face has this twitch that suggests he keeps getting asked that question. "It was documenting an important moment in my life. You have your childhood videos of your first birthday and first steps - well I have this. I should have had this!" he looks put out, "Someone edited the video," he looks really pissed off.

Scott frowns, "Are you saying that something might have happened to you?" he asks. Jackson shrugs half-heartedly.

"Danny's running it through a program. He promised he wouldn't watch." Jackson shrugs.

"Well that's good right?" Scott can't work out why Jackson's annoyed, "You can see what happened!"

The whistle blows and Jackson pats Scott on the shoulder as he grabs his stick and moves past Scott to his place on the field, "Sometime soon me and Lydia need to have a conversation," he says, grimly. It doesn't sound good, "Oh, and McCall?"

"Yeah?"

"Knock that guy off the field for me?"

"I can't."

"Why not? You have your special wolfy powers! So use them!"

"I can't," Scott repeats, glancing to one side, even though he knows it's not going to make much difference, "Allison's grandfather is watching."

Allison has no idea what to think of the man next to her. She barely knows him, but she knows what Scott has told her.

And she trusts Scott.

She's tried to imagine a young version of her father and Kate growing up with this man, but she finds she can't. No matter what she does this man never strikes her as a particularly familial man. He's brutal, makes a mean salmon bake and a uncannily good hunter, but he's not a grandfather.

She finds she doesn't even regret that. It makes it easier to keep her distance, to remind herself what she's doing and who she works with. Because she's a wolf at heart, if not in body.

And she's doing this for her pack.

"It's cold out," she shudders, "I knew I should have brought a warmer jacket," she wraps her arms around herself, and watches the man next to her as he casts a concerned glance towards her.

"Here," he shrugs off his large coat, "Take this."

"Are you sure?"

He smiles, dropping it over her shoulders, "Of course." And she lets it wrap around her, "You're going to have to be a little patient with me," he gestures at the game that is starting up.

"How come?" Allison frowns, hand sliding into one of the coat pockets. Empty.

"I've never actually seen a lacrosse game before," he says, watching with interest as the players all begin to line up.

"Oh, well it's actually pretty fun and entertaining," she says, just as the large behemoth on the field crashes into one of the Cyclones and sends them flying through the air. Allison winces, just as her hands close on cold metal keys.

"Good god," Gerard frowns, "Is it always this violent?"

"I can't feel my legs," the player who was hit moans, and Allison drops the keys down just as Lydia slips past towards the school.

"Not usually," she says, but that's a complete and total lie.

God - no wonder Scott and Jackson like playing so much. In comparison there is Stiles who doesn't even play anymore, although he used to keep Isaac company on the bench. Now though Isaac is gone and Stiles…

She cranes her neck, but there is no dark brown hair - grown out now of the buzzcut it had been in when she met him. She can't see him - Stiles isn't there. He's probably wandering around the woods for his dad, she thinks, and just guiltily hopes he got his phone fixed.

Stiles trips his way through the woods, looking for a dead body.

He contemplates how morbid his life is, that when he should be playing lacrosse, he's instead looking for what by now is probably a skeleton of a little girl. He better start doing something right though, and this at least he can't do wrong. He and his dad swung by the Tate residence, his dad pretending to be investigating some coyote traps. Mr Tate is well-known for putting out traps everywhere and Stiles thinks that is reasonable considering his family were killed by a coyote, but the random joggers in the wood really don't appreciate it.

It also occurs to him how the last time he was looking for a dead body he had Scott by his side, and he got the pair of them bitten by a werewolf.

For a moment he feels a pang of regret that Scott isn't there with him.

But he doesn't need Scott. And Scott doesn't need him.

His senses are better than Scott's anyway.

He fumbles with his phone, the screen blinking periodically. He didn't think he'd be able to get it to work after Allison knocked the living daylights out of it, but after a good charge and a moment where Stiles thought his phone was having a fit because it wouldn't stop vibrating when it resumed working as normal. Stiles if he knocked it or dislodged the battery or SIM card it tended to shut down, so he was trying very hard not to do that as he wandered through the woods, following the point on the map.

He stumbles slightly, because he's the epitome of werewolf grace and skill. The dot on his phone suggests he's going the right way, and he just needs to keep heading in the same direction.

Looking down at his phone of course, Stiles misses the tree root that snakes around his neck, sending him stumbling forwards, arms flying wildly.

He maintains his grip on his phone and regains his balance, relaxing slightly.

That's when something in the woods howls, screeching at the night. He jolts, and it's that which sends his phone sliding out of his hand, tumbling down and sliding to the bottom of a ditch.

He curses, sliding down after it. He bends over, picking it up and examining the waterlogged device. It's gone dark again, which isn't a problem because Stiles doesn't need the light of his phone with werewolf eyes, but it's still annoying because he doesn't want to end up lost.

He looks up, and his surroundings are vaguely familiar. It comes back to him only as he begins to climb out of the ditch, and then it's like being plunged in a bucket of icy water.

This is the place he got bitten. At the top is the clearing where he's tripped over Laura Hale's body, and where more recently he and Scott had fought.

He shudders and turns away, continuing in the direction he had been heading and leaving the clearing and ditch behind. Stiles has no idea how he keeps finding this place. There's something about it that sets his teeth on edge, something electric and dead smelling, like a rotten oak tree long past its glory days.

He really hopes to avoid that damn clearing.

She rifles through the drawers first, scattering paper and stationary aside in search of the leather bound book.

There's nothing. The only interesting thing is a very large broadsword that Lydia is honestly not even sure how Gerard managed to fit in the drawer it's so long. She leaves it where it is, wrinkling her nose and moving on. She looks through the paper piles on the office, most of them all school related. She moves over to the filing cabinet and it's the same again. She finds the key to the safe and again - there is nothing of interest in there.

Nothing.

Nothing nothing nothing. There is no book, nothing in leather bar the chair, and nothing aside from the broadsword in the drawer that even vaguely suggests Gerard is a hunter. In frustration she lets herself sink back, collapsing onto the spinning leather bound principal's chair.

She spins idly for a moment, and sends off a quick text to Allison. Her gaze drifts around the room, and Gerard hasn't done much to make himself at home. In fact there are still belongings of the previous principal scattered around, and Lydia wonders again why he left so quickly.

Or if he was forced.

Something clicks together with a sharp metallic sound and Lydia glances at where the keys are hanging, still stuck in the safe. There are a lot of keys, and it had taken her a while to find the right one. They are clipped together, along with a key ring that someone must have bought Gerard, because she simply can't see him going out and buying it for himself. The fluffy shape obscures what Lydia thinks may be a USB drive.

She pauses in her spinning on the chair, gaze focussed in on the USB drive because why the hell was the bestiary going to be a book when most books now were electronic…

She's half way up when the door flies open and Lydia looks up in alarm, expecting to see Gerard there.

It's almost worse.

Erica smirks at her. "Not who we were looking for, but you'll do." And she grabs Lydia's arm, dragging her forwards.

"Ow!" a cry is tugged unwillingly from her mouth, as Erica's fingers dig into her bite mark. "Let me go!" Lydia snaps, but Erica doesn't. She has werewolf strength and panic bubbles in the strawberry-blonde's throat at the memory of Peter's hand, holding her tight, Stiles at her back…

"We just want to talk," Erica says, "So make it easy on yourself."

"How can I when you insist on wearing that top with those shoes?" Lydia snaps back. "And the make-up, darling, it's really screaming desperate." She sneers slightly. Erica's bottom lip trembles slightly, but that might be in rage as she throws open the doors to the swimming pool and deposits Lydia in front of where Derek stands.

Lydia takes her time brushing herself off, rubbing her arm and glaring at the pair.

"Well?" Derek announces, as if she knows what she's meant to be doing, "Talk."

"About what?" Lydia asks airily, "About how there are so many better ways to contact me including… oh, that's right." She holds out her phone, "You have my number, dumbass."

Derek's expression doesn't change, "Scott and Allison saw what killed Isaac's dad. What did it look like?"

Lydia stares at him - because really? "Oh come on, Der-bear?" Lydia purses her lips, "Is that how you greet your girlfriend?"

"We never dated!" Derek complains, then seems to remember he's meant to be a big nasty alpha now, "Lydia, just help me. We need to find out what it is!"

"I didn't see it. Why don't you ask Scott or Allison - you know the pair who actually saw it?"

"Scott isn't talking to me and Allison's family still want to shoot me. Hell, she threatened to shoot me if I climb in through her window one more time." Derek looks frustrated, "I know they tell you everything. So tell me - what did they see?!"

She sighs and relents, "Allison said it looked like a lizard. It had a tail. Yellow eyes. Reptilian but it could stand on two feet or fall to four. Lots of teeth. Scales…" she trails off, "Why do you two look as if you know exactly what I'm talking about?" she huffs, "Why even bother asking if you already…"

There is a hissing in her ear.

"…know…" she finishes, swallowing and looking over her shoulder straight into a pair of reptilian yellow eyes.

The lizard screeches and Lydia stumbles back behind the werewolves. The humanoid lizard screeches again and then leaps, long tail lashing like a whip. It's fast and Erica lets out a surprised snarl as it lurches forwards towards them.

"Run!" Derek shouts out, shoving Lydia backwards. She narrowly avoids flying into the pool as she stumbles backwards, watching as Derek growls at the lizard. It's leaping and climbing along walls, tail lashing and then it leaps down, coming straight for Derek.

"Don't just stand there!" Lydia shouts at him, but then the creature is leaping backwards already, as if it's not up for a confrontation.

But the back of Derek's neck is bleeding and Lydia thinks it doesn't need to fight them fairly.

The behemoth called 'the Abomination' is living up to his name. He sends Danny spinning and Coach leans over him, "You okay? How many fingers?"

"Four?" Danny frowns, hand to his head.

"Say two."

"Two?"

"Perfect. Get back out there, come on!" he pats Danny on the back and Scott casts a concerned look over at Danny. He probably shouldn't be playing, but his mom is hanging out over by the guy with the camera, he can get her to check Danny over after wards.

"Are you okay?" he asks, just in case. Danny winces and nods.

"We're losing," he says, fingers clutching the mesh of his lacrosse helmet, "Too bad Lahey isn't here. We're still a player short."

"We are?" Scott frowns, "Where's Jackson? He was here a minute ago."

"Ill," Danny shrugs, "He wandered off looking like he was about to puke. Hey - is Stiles around? He could play. He's still on the team, isn't he, even if Coach does have him doing all his paper work?"

"Uh…" Scott glances around but isn't surprised when he can neither see, hear nor scent Stiles, "Stiles isn't here. He… we haven't exactly been on good terms lately."

"You two?" Danny looks surprised, "Wow. I thought you were joined at the hip." He pats Scott sympathetically, "I hope you two make up soon."

Scott nods as Danny jogs off in a wobbly line. "I hope so too," he mumbles to himself. "I hope so too."

He finds the car wreck eventually. His phone seems to have permanently died, so he gives up on using that to help him find his way. In the end he attempts to go by scent, and follows the trail of rusted metal.

The car is in the middle of nowhere, which is to say Stiles has no idea how it crashed when there is no road in sight. The nearest thing to a road is a dirt track several feet away at the top of the ravine, and Stiles is under the vague suspicion that it circles back around to the Hale House, but he's not sure.

He is suddenly vaguely curious about why the car may have been heading to the Hale house on the full moon, and his curiosity only worsens when he sees the claw marks.

Because they're five finger marks, and they're wide, but he spreads out his hands and in comparison they are small. They're the size of a child, maybe.

Or of a girl aged nine.

There's a piece of material stuck in the car and Stiles reaches forwards, tugging it out for a scent. It tumbles away and it's not material - it's a toy. A creepy baby that looks haggard and worn from being in the woods and not in some child's house.

Stiles wrinkles his nose, but all he smells is coyote and woods. He straightens, examining the doll for any hints, any traces of anything, and it squeals something.

"Gah!" he startles so badly he drops the doll, jumping backwards half a metre. The doll rolls over to the floor and he takes a deep breath to try and repair some of his broken nerves. "Next time, Stiles, you go into the woods alone, find a buddy," he tells himself, "Allison will do it," he suggests, "She's not even trying to stab you at the moment." It might stop something else scaring the living crap out of him.

He steps back towards the car when a flash of movement catches his attention.

The flit of paws, the scent, the heart beat tells him it's a coyote, but that's not what makes him look up. It's the fact it's watching him. It's skirting around the edges of the ravine, and he catches the glint of eyes on him.

He steps around the car but the coyote has frozen. Deciding to ignore the curious animal for now, and reminding himself that he's a big brave werewolf who isn't going to be eaten by a coyote, Stiles moves back to pick up the doll from where he had dropped it. It might have some scent still clinging to it…

He's barely picked it up than there is a growl, and he looks up. The coyote has actually stepped out of the shadows, and he can see its shape, lean and teeth flashing.

Stiles steps back slowly and it growls again. Carefully he lowers the doll, leaving it resting on the top of the car so that he has both hands free in case the animal pounces. "It's okay," he says, reassuringly, "I know I'm a wolf, but I'm not going to…" the coyote had stopped growling the minute his hand left the doll, "Hurt you." he finishes, staring at it.

Her. He can tell the scent is female.

"It's the doll?" he asks, frowning and reaching out for it.

Her hackles rise and on instinct more than anything else Stiles snarls back, his eyes flashing blue.

The coyote flinches, her own eyes flaring up as she ducks away, ears pricking in interest. Stiles freezes, because for one split second the coyote's eyes had been a beautiful electric blue.

"Malia?"

The coyote turns tail and bolts.

"Your neck!" Lydia steps forwards, just in time for Derek to topple practically on top of her. She drags him backwards, as the lizard is distracted by Erica, tail lashing as it leaps at the beta female.

"Derek!" she shouts, fangs out and eyes golden. It's bad timing but Lydia finds herself missing the time when Stiles' eyes had been that colour. She'd seen them before, back when she had confronted Derek about werewolves, just in time for him to collapse in the corridor from wolfsbane poisoning.

This? This is almost the same. He's paralysed or something, because Lydia is dragging him along. She has no idea how she managed to get Derek from the school corridor to her family's lakehouse, and now she knows she can't manage. There is a crash and Lydia knows that's Erica down. "Derek, where is it?" she asks, trying to work out what to do, "Can you see it?"

"I can smell it," Derek's eyes dart around frantically, "Hurry up."

"Hurry where?" Lydia snaps, then decides to change her tactic. There is no way she's dragging an alpha werewolf around, so she lets him slide off her shoulder.

"Lydia - what…"

"Sorry." Lydia shoves him over onto a floatation mat for teaching the poor pathetic freshman that can't swim. Derek looks alarmed, even more so when she shoves it sideways out onto the pool.

"LYDIA!" Derek complains, and the mat tilts alarmingly as he slides to one side. She stabilises it, and then shoves it towards the middle of the pool, "This wasn't the plan!" she can't see his face because the mat's drifted around, but it doesn't matter. Derek is 'relatively' safe, she can see Erica huddled in a possibly paralysed, unconscious pile, and she pulls out her phone.

She can't see the creature, but she can hear it, hissing and clicking scales echoing eerily around the swimming pool. "Derek? Where is it? Keep me posted!"

"I am going to kill you!" is the reply. "Are you calling Scott? Get me out of here before I drown!"

"Yes - I'm calling Scott! And there is no way I'm going in there! You have no idea what chlorine does to my hair."

"You have no idea what my teeth could do to your neck!"

"You really need some better pick-up lines," Lydia mumbles, fully aware that the wolf can hear her. Scott's not picking up. He's probably still playing. She tries Allison instead. It begins to ring.

"Lydia!"

"Shush!" the dial tone can be heard.

"No! Look out!"

There is a flash of claws and just in time Lydia spins around, the claws missing. Her phone however sinks through her fingers and drops, sliding to the edge of the pool. In front of her the lizard-thing is crouched, snarling.

Lydia glances at her phone, but there is no way she can get it, not without the creature going for her. She steps backwards, and it steps towards her threateningly. It hisses, tail lashing from side to side. "Oh boy," Lydia whispers, because this is it. She's going to get ripped apart by this thing, and she has nothing and nobody to defend her.

It's like Peter all over again, but this time Lydia wishes Stiles was with her.

Someone's answered her phone, but she can't talk, not with this thing stalking towards her.

"Lydia!" Derek shouts out from where he's still floating in the middle of the pool. He's lucky she actually found something for him to lie on - she can considering just throwing him in. What is interesting is how the creature won't touch the water. It won't go near Derek.

But it's going after her.

Her back meets the wall and she freezes, because this is it. There is nowhere else to go and she can't keep walking away. It takes another steps, tilting its head and regarding her almost curiously.

"LYDIA!" Derek shouts out desperately.

She clenches her eyes closed, something bubbling up inside her chest, unfamiliar and cold, icy cold. It's like death (her own) maybe, and it's reflected there in those cold unfeeling yellow reptilian eyes.

The mirror behind her is cold to the touch, but she barely notices. Her whole body is cold, ice cold and her eyes fly open just as the creature snarls, revealing a mouth of jagged silvery white teeth.

She can't hold it in anymore, and the feeling shoves it's way brutally out of her chest.

She screams.

On the lacrosse field Scott flinches, as something piercing rings through his hearing. He winces, hands over his ears, and looks around. In the stands Allison is pressing random buttons on her phone, and she notices Scott's reaction, eyes widening. She can't hear the sound, she doesn't have super senses, but Scott can. It vibrates through him, and long after the sound is gone, he can still hear it in his head.

It's a scream, and it's one he recognises.

"Lydia!"

The mirror behind her shatters, but whether that's because of her scream or because of the claws that smash into it in anguish remains to be seen. She slides down, her arms coming up to protect her face as the shards clatter to the floor around her.

The lizard looks pained, shaking its head viciously back and forth. It stiffens, tail stilling it's never ending movement as it's gaze fixes on the mirror shards scattered along the floor.

Slowly it reaches out one claw towards the shards, curiously and almost sadly, as if it doesn't recognise the shape it sees reflected.

Then the doors to the swimming pool slam open, "Lydia!" Scott and Allison appear, wide-eyed.

The creature flinches and letting out another screech it bounds up, straight to the roof. Scott and Allison freeze, gaze following it as it crashes straight through the roof and out into the night. "Oh my god!" Allison stares, but jumps into action, running over to Erica.

Scott runs for Lydia, and she sits there, back to the wall, knees to her chest, shivering. Her hands are bloody and she blinks at Scott.

"Are you okay?" he's asking, but she can barely hear him. She's in shock, she thinks, because there is a dark shape leaning over Scott's shoulder.

"Lydia?" Peter asks her, gently, "Are you okay?"

She shoves him away, and Scott sprawls out backwards on the floor, eyes wide. "Lydia?" he asks. She blinks at him, because it's just him.

There's no Peter, just Scott. In the distance Allison is trying to fish Derek out of the pool. Lydia's gaze focuses back to Scott and finally relaxes, because she's safe. No lizard. No Peter.

Around them the broken pieces of mirror are stained with blood and shattered reflections.

"Guess what?" Allison drops into the seat next to Scott in economics.

"I think I know."

Scott is glaring at Isaac who is back in school. He's meant to be a fugitive but instead he's joined the leather jacket club and is smirking at the board smugly. Allison glares at Isaac's back and if she could stab him with her gaze poor Isaac's jacket would be sinking rapidly due to the number of holes in it.

"Did you translate the bestiary?" Scott asks, "Anything useful?"

Allison shakes her head, because nothing is that easy. "The bestiary is all in archaic Latin. So I gave it to Lydia."

"Why Lydia?"

"She speaks archaic Latin." Allison shrugs, "I didn't ask. I did some general research and the only thing I found was it's meant to be a South American myth. Usually what people think are kanima's… or they spell it differently as well… but they usually turn out to be anacondas."

"Snakes," Scott winces.

"Yeah. But the rumours are the same surrounding them. They go after murderers. They're a weapon of revenge."

Scott frowns, "That sounds like it's not the kanima making the decisions. It sounds like somebody is using them."

"Like a puppet." Allison winces.

That's when Jackson drops into a seat behind them, "What's a kanima?" the jock asks.

Allison and Scott spin around. She stares at the blonde, because where did Jackson hear that term. She must have spoken out loud because he pulls a face and his eyes flit from Erica to Isaac and then back to Scott and Allison before admitting, "Because werewolf one and two are going to kill whoever the kanima is."

"Do they know?" Scott leans out of his chair slightly, "Do they know who it is?" his tone is desperate and Jackson sneers at him.

"No. But they have this sort of test. It involves being paralyzed from the neck down. Are either of you familiar with that feeling?" His voice is bitter and yeah - Allison winces - because Derek and his betas would totally do that. She wouldn't be surprised if one of them had even bothered to creep in through Jackson's window, because that was a werewolf thing - right? In fact the only werewolf who had yet to do that to her was Stiles.

"No," Scott is frowning, "Is that what they're going to do?" he gapes at Jackson then turns to look at where Erica and Isaac smugly sit.

And Allison hasn't even known Scott for that long but she recognises that look. The 'we have to do something' look and she just knows she's going to be dragged along with him on whatever plan he comes up with.

At least she came prepared.

Lydia slides down next to him near the end of school and Stiles frowns, because so far he's made it through the whole day without interacting with any of them - Scott, Allison, Lydia - not even Erica or Isaac who are strolling around like they own the place. He hasn't spoken to any of them since he bumped into Allison the other night.

Now Lydia sits down next to him, opening a big book that looks like some sort of dictionary, pulling a laptop out of her bag and then a pen and pad of paper, and immediately goes to work writing stuff down. He's skipped chemistry (with permission and everything) with the express purpose of studying, and he had not planned to spend it with Lydia sitting next to him.

So he stops paging through his mix of books on coyotes and shapeshifting, sighing and staring at her until she looks up. "What are you doing?" Stiles frowns at her, then glances around to see if everywhere else is full, because Lydia wouldn't be sitting by him for no reason.

"Translating a bestiary from archaic Latin," Lydia remarks calmly, scrawling something down.

"You speak archaic Latin?" he narrows his eyes, not really surprised, but still amazed at how clever Lydia can be when she puts her mind to it.

She glances up at him, hair falling down her face. "I got bored with regular Latin," she shrugs.

"Well you're doing a really good job with that," he says, gesturing to whatever it is Lydia has been writing down. She frowns, because those aren't words. None that Stiles recognises. He tilts his head, and he thinks Lydia may be writing backwards. In fact it looks kind of like 'help me' written over and over again across her page…

She slams her notebook closed, "Okay," she says, "Enough chit chat. I need to ask you something."

He straightens slightly, almost guiltily. Do they know about Malia, he wonders? Or is this something else?

Scott's noticed him watching. But then again Derek has made no effort to hide. Why should he? He's keeping an eye on everyone. Isaac and Erica are mingling with the student population, trying to find anyone with a potential werewolf bite.

Really Derek should be talking to Stiles. If Peter had bitten anybody else Stiles would be the person to talk to.

But he doesn't want to send his betas anywhere near Stiles, so he'll talk to the blue-eyed omega another time. Right now they need to find out who the kanima is.

It's not Jackson. That had been his top thought. Jackson was a snake after all, and if the form he took reflected the person that he was then he'd be the prime candidate to turn into a giant lizard.

But Jackson had spent a good hour paralyzed on the floor of the industrial depot where Derek had made his base, and everyone knew a snake couldn't be poisoned by it's own venom.

The kanima is an abomination. Derek has heard only rumours, about one having to be put down in South America. Primarily the werewolf curse will turn the person bitten or clawed to a wolf, but anything was possible. Shape shifters came in many different forms depending on the person and how they took to the curse. The infection itself tended to mutate violently as well.

And sometimes dangerously. He needs to find the kanima and kill it as soon as possible. There are hunters in town, and the battle lines are being drawn once more. Scott's stranded somewhere in the middle with his friends, while Stiles is staying out of the way.

For now. Derek knows it's not possible to keep out of it, not really. Everyone - Lydia, Allison, Jackson - they're all a part of this now, whether they like it or not.

At least, he thinks, his betas are happy. Isaac's back at school, and Jackson looks nervous every time he sees the blonde. He deserves it, Derek thinks, then chides himself for bullying the bully. Jackson lacks self-confidence, and in some ways if the bite had worked he would have made a good werewolf.

It might have improved his self-confidence for one.

It wouldn't have improved his attitude. The guy was still full of himself enough to video tape himself, not even worrying what would have happened if anybody had gotten their hands on the tape.

It's just as well nothing happened. But Derek still isn't sure what went wrong with that bite. Maybe because it was the first, or maybe Jackson's immune.

Like Lydia.

Lydia who was bitten.

Lydia who was bitten, but can't be the kanima because Derek had seen her standing there, the kanima stalking towards her and as clever as Lydia is, she can't be in two places at the same time.

He should test her anyway, he thinks, but she might just be immune to the venom as well. Ideally he should be testing the whole school of insecure teenagers who have no idea who they're meant to be.

Scott wouldn't approve, and he's probably right.

This isn't the way he should be doing this.

Scott would have been a better alpha, he thinks, almost bitterly.

There's a kind of bitter irony to that.

"Why aren't I turning?" she thrusts her bitten wrist out at him.

Stiles frowns, "I don't know," he says nervously, because he has no idea. He and Peter both were expecting her to turn. That had been why Peter had bitten her in the first place after all. "Peter bit you." he says, "You should have turned… I don't know what happened…"

"You were there!" Lydia snaps, leaning closer and a lock of hair falling in her face, "You tell me!"

"Look, I'm sorry about that…"

"You forced a bite upon me, the same way he did to you and Scott. Without your consent and sure you might be happy about it now, but Scott isn't and I wasn't, and you know some people call that rape, Stiles."

She's furious, and Stiles feels nothing but icy guilt in his stomach, "Woah…" his fingers tap nervously on the table. He feels a driving need to do something, to make it up to Lydia. "You came to me here!" he reminds her.

Lydia swallows, "The thing killing people," she whispers, "It's called a kanima." And reluctantly Stiles leans back towards her, because this is news to him, "It's a werewolf bite gone wrong."

"Is that why you're translating a bestiary on supernatural creatures?" Stiles frowns, peering at the title. He pulls a face at the language because those words look completely made up.

She nods, "I thought it was me," she rubs at her wrist in anxiety, "But it can't be. I saw the creature, so it's not me. But that… it would have explained…"

Stiles frowns, "Lydia?" he asks, "Explained what?"

She is silent for a long time and for a moment Stiles thinks of just dropping the conversation. Then she speaks up, her gaze staring off blankly into the distance, "I see him." She admits.

Stiles could swear his heart skips a beat, and he stares at her, dumbfounded. Then it's accompanied by a rush of bitterness and his one hand curls into a fist as she elaborates.

"In mirrors," she says, "Anything with a reflection… In the corner of my eye but when I turn my head… there is nothing there. Sometimes it's like he's standing right behind me. I can't tell if… if it's in my head… if it's from the bite or…"

She stops, because Stiles is laughing. Because he might be crazy, but he's not the only one. Stiles hasn't been right since Peter sunk his claws into his neck, and now Lydia's all broken - a puzzle put together the wrong way - and it happened since Peter sank his teeth into her.

Stiles just helped break Lydia Martin and he can't stop laughing.

"What is it?" she snaps, "What's so funny?" her tone is demanding.

"It's just…" Stiles' face is twisted in derision, "You're all so sorry for yourselves, but you seem to forget that in all this, I'm the one who was there. I'm the one whose head he twisted his way into and fucked up to make me his perfect little beta." His words are bitter because that's what scares him. Stiles has no idea of how much of what he did was himself and what was Peter. But Peter's dead and he still killed someone, so does that make him just as bad as his former alpha?

"Are you asking me to trust you?" Lydia frowns.

"I wouldn't trust me," Stiles shrugs, carelessly. "I killed people. To death!"

"You haven't even tried with Scott, have you? You've just pushed him away further because you think that might keep him safe."

"Sometimes," Stiles says, head angling to his shoulder, "The people closest to you can be the ones holding you back the most."

"What you don't realise is that he's already in this mess. We all are. So either we stick together and start working like a team, like a Pack, or we all fall. Understand?" She glares at him, before rolling her eyes, "So answer my question. Do you know what Peter did to me? Do you have any idea why I keep seeing him everywhere? Did you… did you hallucinate as well, when you killed for him? Do you see him too?"

Stiles pauses for half a second before shrugging and answering. "He's in my head all the time," his head tilts to stare into the distance, but for once, surprisingly he's not actually hallucinating. He wonders how bad it is that he's actually aware that they're hallucinations. Maybe that's a sign that he's getting better, or maybe it's a sign that he should probably be seeking help. He shrugs, "But that's nothing new."

He ducks his head back to the book on coyotes, mind slipping back to trying to think about Malia and how to help her (if she even wants help, because Stiles can only offer so much before being rejected much like he's rejected Scott's hand of assistance…)

"That doesn't tell me anything." Lydia sounds annoyed at him now. Stiles gaze drifts up and around the library, because he's seriously considering switching seats.

His amber eyes land on where Jackson and Danny are bent over a laptop, with the creepy photographer that Stiles keeps picking up bad vibes sitting nearby. Stiles could swear he keeps scenting the guy - Matt - around Allison a lot, but never sees the pair together. "What are they doing?" he asks Lydia.

"Who?" she follows his gaze, "Oh - Danny's fixing some video for Jackson."

"Video of what?"

"Him. Sleeping."

"A sex tape?"

"He claims it isn't. I don't believe him."

Stiles frowns, "You said the kanima was a werewolf bite gone wrong." He says slowly.

"Yes," Lydia purses her lips, "And?"

"And." Stiles gazes steadily at where Jackson and Danny are discussing how to restore lost footage, because apparently there was at least two hours missing from the tape. "And the only other werewolf bite I know of apart from Derek's orphan gang…" he tilts his head in direction of the other table.

There is a pause.

Lydia's head snaps around, wide-eyed in realisation, "Jackson."

Danny's fingers are tapping at his keyboard when the pair slink over, and judging by the look on his face he has no idea what to make of them. Lydia perches on the desk besides Jackson, crossing her legs as she leans to talk to her ex-boyfriend, while Stiles plonks himself down between Danny and Matt, just as Matt flashes a picture.

"Hey!" Matt protests and Stiles shrugs at the guy.

"Sorry," he says, not at all apologetic, "Mark, isn't it?"

"Matt," the photographer glares, then raises the camera and takes another picture almost defiantly, "What are you doing?"

"We need to talk to Jackson." Stiles says, turning to look at where Lydia is arguing with said person.

Jackson is pulling away from her, looking angry, "I don't want to talk to you!" he complains, glaring. "Either of you." his heart stutters a little bit when he looks towards Stiles, and the omega thinks he might enjoy that just a little bit more than he should.

"God, what the hell did you do to my camera?" Matt mumbles behind Stiles, peering down at the screen, "The flash must be broken… I swear that lens flare wasn't there before…"

"Jackson. You and I are going to talk now. Or Stiles is going to help me persuade you." And Jackson stiffens, glancing just over to where Stiles flashes a quick grin, just enough to see a canine and cobalt eyes.

The jock shoves everything in his bag, every movement screaming reluctance, but it just comes off as annoyance as with exaggerated movements he stands up slowly, "Fine." He says, looking to where Lydia is still perched on the desk, "Let's talk."

"Maybe not in the library," Danny doesn't even look over his shoulder, "Where I'm working."

"Come on then," Jackson's shoulders are tense, and Stiles bounds up, grinning, just as there is a loud crash.

Heads snap around, Stiles spinning his whole body around so he's facing the loud sound. The library door is all wood, with the exception of the glass window pane at the top. It's thick glass, but whatever has just thrown itself through has shattered it into pieces.

The thing lands and it's head lifts up, scenting the air.

"What the hell-?" Danny and Matt are scrambling up, eyes wide.

"Is that a coyote?" Jackson sneers, but even he looks wary. Nobody particularly wants to tangle with a coyote. Encounters with the creature isn't exactly fatal, but they can give nasty bites. Jackson looks ready to take on the four legged creature, making a grab for his lacrosse stick when Stiles knocks into him.

"Don't!" he snaps, gaze fixed on the animal. Because it's his coyote. He shouldn't be possessive over a goddamn coyote but he recognises her scent.

"Someone call animal control…" Danny says, just as the coyote - Malia - snarls. He and Matt stumble back several steps.

"Go!" Jackson shouts, "Get out of here - there's another door. Call someone!"

"But what about…?"

That's when the coyote moves. She darts forwards and then to the side lunging forwards. Matt and Danny stop wasting time and bolt, and Jackson grabs Lydia shoving her back towards the book shelves and out of the way.

"Are you crazy?" Jackson shouts over to where Stiles moves towards the coyote, but then Jackson and Lydia don't know. Nobody knows and this… this is dangerous. Coyotes get shot regularly, but she isn't just a coyote…

She moves again, sliding past the bookcases and Stiles bolts after her.

Scott needs to talk to Derek about stopping whatever crazy plan the alpha werewolf has come up with. He peers out the window and considers the merits of missing chemistry. As it is they have had a cover teacher ever since Stiles killed their last teacher.

Scott winces at that thought and glances over to where his friend (actually in school for once) had been enthusiastically highlighting his whole page yellow without somebody picking on him for it. Stiles isn't there anymore, having slipped out with the excuse of going to the library, and like a predator Lydia had stalked after him. Scott wonders how that conversation is going.

He sighs and turns to look back out the window at where Derek is lurking and has been lurking since first period that morning. He's so busy trying to work out how to persuade Derek to change his tactics he barely notices Erica slide into the seat next to him which has been horribly vacant since Stiles left him.

He doesn't notice until she leans towards him, and one hand rests on his thigh. He jumps, his knee knocking against the desk as he spins around to her.

"Do you know who it is?" Erica purrs, chest angled as she leans towards him.

Scott leans away, "What?"

"Do you." Erica asks, tongue just visible at the corner of her lips, "Know. Who. The kanima. Is?"

The bell rings then, and that's all Scott needs to grab his bag and books and leap for the door, Erica ducking out of the way as he shoves past.

He bursts out into the corridor, several other students mingling as classes end. He hears footsteps behind him and doesn't turn around to look to see who is following him. "Why is Derek lurking like a creeper?" he asks, then instantly regrets the words. He's beginning to sound like Stiles. "What is he waiting for?"

"If we find the kanima," Isaac answers, "Then we're going to kill it."

"It?" Scott turns, eyeing Isaac as the beta stalks towards him, claws scratching along the lockers, "That's a person half of the time!"

"And the other half of the time they're a killer lizard!" Isaac shrugs, not seeing the problem.

Scott shakes his head, "Killing isn't right." He says, catching sight of Erica and Allison looking like they're about to kill each other further down the corridor. He shakes his head, shoving past Isaac and back towards them, "Killing is never right," he says over his shoulder, "No matter how you justify it."

Scott practically runs from chemistry class and Allison goes after him. She is knocked aside, something almost dislocating her shoulder and she crashes into the lockers, trying to keep herself upright.

"I thought hunters were less clumsy than that," Erica looks at her, but offers no help.

"I thought the full moon was last week," Allison shrugs, "But I guess it's just your time of the month again."

Erica's grin is thin. She steps forwards, hips swaying in a manner that would be almost seductive if it wasn't for the claws and the threat in every tense muscle and glare. "Tell me - don't you get jealous?"

That throws Allison, "Jealous?" she asks, not sure what Erica is talking about.

"Yeah," Erica shrugs, almost carelessly, "About Scott?"

Oh, Allison realises. "You think that by putting your hand on his thigh - that's going to hurt me?" she asks, laughing. The laugh is fake, but the derision in her voice isn't.

"Well why on earth…" Erica steps forwards, "Would Scott? Want to spend ten minutes with you in secret when he can spend all his time with me? I have to say, you guys are cute together. But you know, I've always had this feeling like I'm a little psychic. I just don't think you're going to last."

Allison turns, and in that movement she slides out the weapon she had in her bag. The crossbow is small and on a trigger pull, but it still comes up neatly in the space between the two girls, an arrow already notched and resting just above Erica's heart. "You know I've always been kind of a good shot," Allison smirks, "And I've always had this feeling like I can just never miss a target."

Erica is slowly stepping backwards.

"Woah!" with a skidding sound Scott appears, between Erica and Allison. The hunter reluctantly lowers her crossbow, glancing up and down the corridor, but it's empty. School is over and nobody is willing to linger for long. "No shooting each other!" Scott says, emphasising his words, "Why the hell are you guys at each other's throats when there is something bigger and more dangerous out there?"

"She's the one who brought a crossbow into school," Erica sneers.

"Because there is a killer lizard on the loose," Allison snaps back, "Or did you forget that it paralysed you the other night and left you for dead while Derek ran away."

"Lydia ran too," Erica points out, "Pretty little Lydia couldn't defend herself, not the way you can. So who is she going to hide behind, huh, next time that thing shows up?"

"Lydia can look after herself." Allison retaliates. Isaac is there, pulling Erica back gently.

Erica snorts, "Yeah, she can scream for help pretty well. Where is she now anyway?"

There is a pause.

"She's with Stiles in the library," Scott says, and both the other wolves look a bit nervous at that. Allison thinks that if Peter was basically the bogey man of werewolf culture, the monstrous alpha that wasn't human but neither was he a true wolf, then Stiles has become his evil little minion. She wonders if the blue-eyed wolf even knows that. He probably doesn't.

"Oh, like that's safe," Isaac snaps.

"It's perfectly safe."

"Because you trust him?" Isaac narrows his eyes.

"Yes!" Scott snaps, and at that precise moment there is the sound of shattering glass.

And Allison doesn't need to be a werewolf to know that it's coming from the library.

Lydia has no idea what is happening. She and Jackson freeze, stepping back between the book shelves. Lydia pauses, because some sixth senses tells her that the coyote is padding down the other side of the shelf.

"Here…" Jackson edges around cautiously, and all Lydia hears is a snarl before Jackson steps back towards her, almost falling on top of her. "Maybe not." He says, "Where's Stilinski?"

Lydia doesn't know. Why is there even a coyote in the school in the first place?

And why wasn't Stiles surprised to see it?

"Quickly," she turns Jackson around so that he's facing her, "Show me your bite."

"My what?"

"Your werewolf bite. Show it to me!"

"Is now really the time?" he snaps. Then his eyes narrow, "It was you!" he accuses.

Bewildered she frowns, "What was me?" she asks.

"You edited the video." And it takes Lydia several seconds to even remember what video. "You cut out the moment that I shifted! You're the only one who could - the only one who has a key... A key that you never gave back."

Lydia can't believe him. Even now, while there is a coyote stalking them and the issue of hunters and werewolf packs, it's still all about Jackson. "Why would I do that?" she asks, disbelieving, "Tell me why I would waste my time on something as petty as editing a video?"

Jackson makes a face as if it's obvious, "To stop me getting what I want," he glares, "Because you're jealous. Because I dumped you. Maybe because you wanted to take that from me, my moment, like you take everything. Or maybe you just thought you were protecting me. I don't know what goes on in that weird brain of yours…"

"Are you an idiot?" Lydia snaps, "Why should I care about you being a werewolf?" she asks, "I'm only asking because I have to. Otherwise I wouldn't want anything to do with it. So…" she crosses her arms, "I'll you mine if you show me yours," then without waiting for a reply, she rips off the bandage and shoves her wrist in his face.

The wound is neat, but still raw. Each fang mark can be clearly seen, a soft pink against her pale skin. Jackson's face goes pale at seeing it, and he steps backwards from her.

"Show me," Lydia snaps. It's more of a demand really and Jackson jumps to obeying, lifting up his shirt and raising it.

There is no bandage. There is not even a scratch on him. The skin has healed completely and utterly.

Which means he's not immune. Which means that by all knowledge Jackson should be a werewolf.

Except he's not.

Lydia glances up to meet Jackson's confused gaze, and she catches sight of rippling scales flashing across his neck.

Her stomach just drops, and she backs away. "Lydia?" Jackson frowns, "What's wrong?" he winces, as if in pain, as if he's not even aware that his skin is dancing and morphing and…

Lydia bolts. She spins around and darts around the table she had just been sitting at, taking less than a second to observe where Stiles is crouched down over his bag, holding something out to where the coyote is sniffing at him cautiously. She moves as fast as she can, and the coyote startles, her ears pressing back.

"What? Lydia… not now… I've almost…"

"Jackson. He's the kanima. Go. Go now. He's turning. Like, right now."

"Right now?"

There is a crash and the screech of a lizard. She and Stiles whirl around, just as a bookcase topples over. She catches sight of a long, flickering tail.

"Right now." Her fingers close in his collar and drag him up. She grabs onto her bag and heads straight for the door, ignoring the broken shards and shouldering it open, stumbling out into the corridor and straight into Isaac and Erica.

The beta werewolf startles, blinking, "What was that?" Erica is staring at the broken glass window, "What happened?"

Lydia doesn't want to talk to the betas, so she shoves past them, running for the end of the corridor. Stiles stumbles out, something clutched in his hand. He freezes and both of the other werewolves perform a simultaneous step-back that would be funny if it wasn't so serious. Stiles isn't even paying attention, because at that moment there is another screech and crash.

"What is that…?" Erica squints and Stiles darts after Lydia.

"Homicidal lizard!" he says, and the betas don't even wait around, they turn and follow Lydia and Stiles down the corridor and out of the door, almost tripping down the steps.

She falls almost into the warm body that catches her, and Scott's there, a strong reassuring presence holding her upright, his hands on her shoulders. Allison hovers in the background and - is that a crossbow - she almost shoots Stiles when he appears after her, then once again when Isaac and Erica appear in a disarray of 'we didn't expect this'.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Scott asks, trying to calm her down.

"The kanima." Lydia says, "It's there. I mean… there was a coyote that broke in, and then I was talking to Jackson and he…" she meets Scott's gaze, "Then the kanima appeared screeching and we just ran. We just…"

"She's after the doll."

Lydia glances at Stiles, frowning, because Stiles obviously isn't even vaguely worried about the homicidal lizard. Except he must be because he has this wide-eyed look in his eyes, and is running his hand through his hair in panic.

"What is it about the doll?" he frowns.

"You're still worried about the coyote?" Lydia snaps, "There is a homicidal lizard trying to kill us and you're worried about the coyote?!"

Stiles' head snaps up, "Oh, you think I didn't notice the scales and the tail and the sharp teeth?" he snaps, "Yes! I noticed! But why the hell would she come to the school? Why the hell does she want this doll so badly that she'd come all the way to the…" his face twists in realisation, "School." He whispers.

"What the hell is that?" Isaac frowns, and for the first time Lydia notices the thing Stiles is holding in his hand. It's a baby's doll, with torn clothes and dirt smeared all over it. It looks like something from a horror movie.

"It's the doll," Stiles frowns, "But it's not hers. It's her sisters. It was her sister's…"

"Who?" Scott looks puzzled. Allison looks slightly more aware, but it is Lydia who answers.

"The coyote wanted the doll?" Stiles is still talking to himself.

"What coyote?" Erica whirls around, "Why aren't we going back in there to deal with the kanima?"

"After you," Allison gestures at the door, "Be my guest," because the truth is none of them want to face that thing again.

"I don't get it," Scott frowns, "What coyote?"

"A coyote broke into the library. Then the kanima appeared." Lydia neglects to mention it is Jackson. That's probably a good thing as Isaac and Erica are still planning to kill the kanima. She can't think of anybody who would have an issue with killing Jackson, except maybe Scott and then again Scott wouldn't kill a fly.

"So is the coyote still in there?" Allison turns to the school.

"Oh shit," Stiles shoves the doll at Isaac and without even looking at them he takes off in a sprint towards the school.

Isaac looks disgusted and as if to make things worse the doll lets out a high pitched squeak. The werewolf drops it, startled. "Is he crazy?"

"Should I…" Scott stares, as the doors swing closed, "Should I go after him?"

"Come on!" Allison is the first to move, raising her crossbow and jogging up the stairs. She barely gets to the door than there is a crash and everybody turns, just as the window to the side shatters. The kanima lands, shaking it's head, and it doesn't even look like Jackson now, Lydia thinks. It's a monster that doesn't even know who it is.

There are police sirens in the distance, and she thinks that Matt and Danny must have succeeded in calling the cops or animal control.

It's a bit late now though, she thinks, just as the kanima leaps up and bounds off, tail lashing side to side as it darts from bush to tree to a car roof, it's claws sliding in. It darts off, and vanishes, out of sight.

"Derek's going to kill us," Erica sighs, and that's the point Stiles reappears, tumbling out of the door holding a spitting coyote by the scruff. The pair trip and stumble down the steps, the coyote being dislodged from Stiles' grip and landing in a heap.

"You went back for the coyote?" Lydia doesn't understand it - what the hell isn't she getting?

Stiles shoves himself up, just as the coyote crouches there, head raised and for a moment their gazes meet. "She's not a coyote," he says, quietly, "Are you?" and the question is directed to the animal itself. Herself.

Stiles keeps calling the coyote a 'she'.

"Stiles," Lydia is losing patience, "Get rid of your coyote."

"Her name is Malia."

Scott has this look that suggests he thinks Stiles has lost it.

The coyote - Malia - isn't planning on staying. Staring at Stiles for a few minutes more, she lunges forwards, startling Isaac into hopping away as she snaps at his feet. She's not trying to bite him though; she simply snatches up the doll still lying at his feet, and then backs away, tail wagging slightly.

"Sorry," Stiles whispers, but that - that makes no sense either.

Then the coyote turns and bolts, doll in her jaws.

With a screech the cop cars and what looks like animal control begin to pull up outside the school. They must be here for the coyote, Scott thinks. The coyote that Stiles has somehow made friends with because the coyote is a 'she' and does that mean the coyote is a person?

"What was that?" he asks as Stiles pushes himself into a standing position, brushing himself off.

"Close," Stiles says, gaze guarded, "J… the kanima was in the library still and so I grabbed Malia and ran. It knocked over another bookcase and I thought it came after us but evidently…" he gestures at the window that is broken and winces, "Are they going to blame that on one little coyote?" he wonders out loud.

"Malia?" Scott frowns, "You named the coyote?"

"Never mind about the coyote!" Allison says, hopping down the stairs towards them, "The kanima. It headed off into town."

"Derek and Boyd are on its tail," Erica appears next to Allison, and then appears to realise she shouldn't be so happy to be working with them; "You guys stay and look after your coyote."

"Where are you going?" Lydia frowns.

"We're going after the kanima," Isaac says, ducking down the stairs. He doesn't look back at them, as Erica slips into place behind him.

"Great," Scott begins to follows after them, "We'll help." There is a spring in his step and a determined glint in his eye, as if half an hour before Erica and Allison weren't about to commit bodily harm to each other.

Isaac stops, but its Erica who turns to face Scott, "Uh - no you're not."

"Yeah," Lydia rolls her eyes, "We are. Face it you two just can't deal with the lizard man who keeps paralyzing everyone on your own." She shrugs, "So we'll help."

"Is Stiles coming with us?" Erica glances with narrowed eyes that flash gold at the omega wolf. Stiles frowns, looking slightly indignant at her attitude towards him. "What's he doing here anyway?"

"Helping," Allison says, before Stiles can insult one or both of the wolves.

The two betas can't really argue, because at that moment someone calls out a name, and Danny and Matt appear.

"You got out!" Danny says to Lydia with relief in his voice, "The police are looking over everything but they can't find the coyote. Just a lot of broken glass, several bookcases fell over and…" he frowns, looking around, "Where's Jackson?"

"They want to ask you two some questions," Matt points at Stiles and then Lydia.

"Yeah, okay?" Stiles nods, "That's great, go and tell them we'll be there. Like… in a minute or so…" he turns around and grabs Lydia's hand. Lydia lets herself be dragged away.

"We're just going to find Jackson," she shouts to Danny over her shoulder, and without waiting the beta wolves take off after the pair. Allison and Scott follow on their heels, and Danny and Matt stare after the six teenagers, blinking.

"I have no idea what that is about," Danny admits, "Scott and Stiles I can understand. Isaac and Erica, maybe. Stiles, Allison and Scott even I can explain? But the six of them?" he shakes his head, "I've got nothing."

Derek follows after the kanima down the road. His feet pound on the asphalt, and ahead of him a tail whips out of sight around the corner.

He runs faster.

He's vaguely aware of Boyd behind him, but the beta can't match his alpha's speed. So it's Derek who reaches the car park first, it's Derek who vaults over the fence, letting the wolf come to the top. He looks up, eyes red and fangs bared. The lizard looks almost like it's waiting smugly for him, tail lashing from side to side.

The area is an open tarmac section with concrete arches spread out across it. Derek takes note of his surroundings, because he can use that as an advantage. He moves forwards and the kanima moves to meet him. It's claws slice out but this time Derek is prepared for it's speed. He ducks back, leaning away from the swipes. Once. Twice. Three times and it pauses to snarl, then looks ready to snap forwards.

He throws himself backwards from that one. The creature may prefer claws, but it has a mouthful of teeth and Derek doesn't want to know what venom drip off those. He turns to dodge into a backflip, kicking at the lizard as he spins.

That only succeeds in making it more angry as it snarls, eyes flashing a reptilian yellow. Derek punches out, and it moves to the side with a flick of its tail. His fist crashes into the pillar, shattering it into rubble as he misses.

The kanima takes advantage of that, throwing him back. His back scrapes against the asphalt, and the lizard looks prepared to lunge.

Then Boyd is there, and the claws strike the car door the steadfast beta has picked up to defend himself. The kanima's claws spark of the metal and with a snarl Boyd shoulders forwards, barrelling into the shapeshifter. The kanima flinches back, leaping away. Derek scrambles to his feet, but the kanima is leaping up, climbing along the concrete pillars and archways as if they were the floor. It's claws nick the wires and sparks rain down from above them.

It's blinding, but it doesn't stop their hearing. Derek hears the screech of tyres, and more on instinct than anything he drags his beta back out of sight as gunshots ring out.

Thankfully Chris is shooting at the kanima. It drops down from the archway, but gets straight back to its feet, arm raised to strike when Chris shoots again. One. Two. Three. Four. Black blood bubbles up in the wounds and the lizard teeters there for a long moment.

Then it drops to the ground.

Derek tugs Boyd out of sight as Chris steps past the body, peering into the gloom for them. It's a stupid move, turning your back on a fallen enemy.

But the hunter has good senses. As the kanima rises, bullets slowly being forced out of its body, Chris turns, bringing his gun up.

There is an empty click.

The hunter is out of bullets. Chris freezes, and in that moment the lizard kicks out, knocking Chris into the concrete pillar Derek punched a hole out of. The hunter's head cracks against the bricks and where Derek crouches with Boyd in the shadows he winces. That has to hurt.

There is the slam of a door and Derek can't see clearly, mist drifting in front of headlights. He can see a dark shape standing in front of the lizard which stares cautiously at the newcomer.

Then without a moment's pause it bolts away, and Derek curses.

They've lost it.

There is a sharp beep as the call cancels, and Isaac drops his phone away from his ears, looking grimly towards the others. "Derek and Boyd lost it." He passes on, but it's news that Lydia isn't surprised about. "They also say that the hunters are in town and to be careful."

"Hunters?" Allison looks nervous, and she ducks back so she's standing well away from the road, "You mean like my dad?"

"Your dad and granddad," Isaac points out, "And they have guns. And probably assault rifles." He grins, helpfully.

Lydia rolls her eyes, turning away. They're standing on the side of one of the streets, and Scott, Stiles and Erica have darted away in different directions to try and catch a scent. Erica is first back.

"I haven't got anything," she says, flipping her hair over one shoulder, "Where the hell could it be heading?"

"To kill someone." Allison says darkly, and despite her protests she looks more like a hunter than ever as she holds out her crossbow.

Isaac rolls his eyes, "Duh." He says, "That explains the claws and fangs," he then shrugs when everyone turns to him, "What? It makes perfect sense." Lydia just glances around anxiously, wondering what the hell Jackson is doing, if he even knows what he's doing. She isn't in the mood to appreciate sarcasm.

They also can't tell Isaac or Erica, or give any hint to them that it's Jackson. The betas will kill him without a thought.

"What do we do know?" someone asks from right behind her and Lydia jumps.

"Holy cr-" she spins around, glaring angrily at Scott, "Don't do that!" He raises his arms defensively. "Did you find anything?" she demands.

"No! I'm sorry," Scott shakes his head, "I thought I saw him but then I lost him again. And he doesn't have a scent so I can't track him!"

Erica lets out a frustrated hiss and begins pacing up and down the sidewalk, "So what now?" she snaps, "Now you losers went and lost it…"

"Us losers?" Allison glares. "We were the ones who found it in the first place!"

"Actually, I was," Lydia snaps, "When it tried to eat me. For the second time, mind you."

Isaac looks like he's about to retort something, but is thankfully stopped by the sound of a ringing phone. Really, Lydia is pleased he's found his self-confidence but now isn't really the time to be showing it off. "Whose phone is that?" Erica frowns.

"Mine," Allison pulls it out, warily. She's probably worried it's her family phoning her, and to be honest Lydia is surprised they haven't yet demanded why she hasn't made it home yet.

"Who is it?" Scott asks.

"I don't know?" Allison answers it anyway, cautiously issuing a "Hello?" She puts it on speaker, just as a familiar voice echoes through.

"Allison? Hey!"

"Stiles?"

"Yeah, sorry, I got a new phone after you killed my last one. Listen, I've found him! He's outside the club… uh… Jungle…"

"The one downtown?" Lydia frowns.

"Yeah."

"We'll be there as soon as possible."

They catch up to Stiles outside the club, the queue around the corner growing every minute. Stiles is leaning against the wall, fingers tapping nervously and he keeps glancing down the alley. "Is he talking to himself?" Erica asks, but by the time they get within hearing range Stiles is standing upright and alert. His eyes keep flaring blue but whether that's from adrenaline or from the way he keeps tilting his head, listening to something nobody else can hear Lydia isn't sure. "I found him!" he says, fingers still tapping away, "It's got this weird echoing heart beat."

"You mean an ectopic beat," Lydia corrects him.

"Yeah, that."

"How did you find him? He doesn't have a scent."

"Can you still hear it?" Scott peers around the corner, "Because I don't see the kanima anywhere."

"He went into the club," Stiles jerks a thumb behind him.

"Why didn't you follow?" Isaac looks panicked, "There are people in there!"

"I can't!" Stiles hisses.

"Why not?"

"It's a club." Stiles blinks at the blank faces, "It's got loud music and a shit-load of people in there smelling of sweat and hormones and all their heart beats like a marching band in my head!" he snaps, "I'm not going in there! I'll go mad! I can't tune everything out the way you can!" And for the first time in a long time Stiles looks vulnerable, wide-eyed and wary.

"Fine," Erica snaps, "We'll go in. We'll find the kanima and then we'll kill it."

"Why the hell is it at a club though?" Allison frowns.

Stiles winces, nose wrinkling, "I think I know why," he says, "I smell Armani."

"Armani?"

Lydia's heart skips a beat, "Danny," she says, and she follows Stiles' gaze to where Danny is flashing a smirk at the bouncer, holding out an ID that she knows to be fake. She wonders how much time they must have been wasting, searching for the kanima. It's late already, dark outside. Late enough for Danny to be clubbing (on a school night, really, Lydia mentally rolls her eyes). She moves with urgency towards the door, "Crap, crap, come on, we need to go, we need to…" she tries the door at the side, but it fails. "Come on!" she urges the lock to open magically or something.

Scott opens the door supernaturally, snapping off the door handle, "Great," Isaac leaps forwards towards the entrance.

"We'll cover this entrance," Scott gestures at Isaac, himself and Lydia. He turns to the other three. "You three go the other way?"

"Sure that's wise?" Lydia looks at Erica then Allison then Stiles.

"I can't go in anyway," Stiles wrinkles his nose, "Come on Ally Cat." He turns and darts down the alley, Allison following. Erica trails after, baring her fangs as she braces herself to keep an eye on the other two.

Isaac hesitates in the doorway. "Move," Lydia shoves past him, "Are you going in or not?"

"Not," Isaac slips off after Erica, "I'm going to make sure she doesn't kill them."

"To make sure Erica doesn't kill them? Or that Stiles doesn't kill Erica?" Scott asks.

"Both!"

The strawberry-blonde turns away, yanking the door open and sliding into the club. She is greeted with loud music, strobe lights and yeah - she can see why Stiles didn't even considering going in.

"What I don't get…" Scott steps in after her, letting the sights and sounds wash over him, "Is why it is going after Danny?" he peers around, "Lydia?" he turns to her, "What's wrong?"

"Uh…" Lydia looks terrified, "I shouldn't be in here!"

"Why not?" Scott frowns, squinting around, "Hey! Everyone in here's a dude. I think we're in a gay club!"

Lydia steps away from where a drag queen in pawing at her hair, "Your powers of observation amaze me," she drawls, "Why couldn't Stiles come in here? At least he's not the wrong gender." She smooths down her dress again.

"He can't stand the noise," Scott half-shouts to her, "Too many sounds and scents," he waves at the air as the pair fight their way through to the bar, "Can we have a drink?" he asks the guy behind the counter.

The barkeeper is narrowing his eyes at Lydia, "Are you really going to ask a girl's age?" she shrugs one shoulder. He gives her a beer looking cowed and Scott gapes at her.

"What?" Lydia shrugs, sipping it innocently.

"I didn't say anything."

"Your face did. And hey." She leans over Scott, "I found Danny."

He is staring at the ceiling, "I found Jackson."

"We need to lose Isaac and Erica." Allison mumbles under her breath. The wolves shouldn't hear, they're too busy arguing about something, but Stiles? Stiles hears everything.

"I've got an idea." Stiles whispers in her ear and ducks past, turning to face her, but Allison doesn't miss how his gaze slides over her shoulder to observe the betas. "Just shoot one of 'em." He gestures at her crossbow.

She narrows her eyes at him. "If you can catch an arrow, then they certainly can."

He winces, because yeah, she had tried to shoot him once and that probably wasn't a good memory. But he pulls something from his pocket. It's a scrunched up piece of paper, and it looks wet. Allison narrows her eyes, trying to work out why Stiles has a wet ball of paper when he warms her, "Careful about touching it."

Then she realises when the gloppy substance on the paper must be.

"I grabbed this from library when I went back for Malia. I thought it might be useful," Stiles tells her, and of course Stiles would grab something like this on the off chance it might be useful. "They'll catch the arrow. What you need to do is to make that the point."

"Wha-" Allison is still trying to work out what that stuff is. Then… "Oh." She blinks, "Oh."

Stiles chucks the vial to her and she catches it with one hand, pulling the cork stopper out with her teeth. "We've phoned Derek," Isaac says, stalking forwards, "What are the pair of you doing?"

"On three?" Allison asks.

"Three." Stiles says as a reply, and in one swift step he moves towards Isaac, smirking and bringing his arm down across Isaac's temple. The beta crumples and Stiles eyes his fallen body, making sure he's unconscious.

"Oh you backstabbing assholes!" Erica's claws slide out and her eyes flash gold as she moves towards them, just as Allison brings up crossbow and shoots.

Erica leans back, matrix-style to catch the crossbow bolt. She straightens, shaking out her hair as she steps forwards, "You didn't really think that would work, did you?" she sneers.

"Actually I did." Allison smirks, and Erica's eyes widen as she peels her fingers off the sticky, venom coated arrow. Seconds later her body crumples forwards and Allison steps gently past her, pausing to brush a lock of hair out of Erica's face.

"I thought you were psychic, bitch!"

Stiles laughs as he walks around the fallen beta, taking care to step on the phone lying nearby. "Tell Derek I say 'hi'," he says, and Allison turns, letting him follow her back to the club, to Scott and Lydia, to who she thinks is probably Jackson, leaving the betrayed betas unconscious and paralyzed in the alleyway.

The screams are starting just as they round back to the front door. Allison looks torn for a moment. "Go!" Stiles tells her, and she doesn't hesitate, darting inside before the bouncer is even aware of her. Stiles instantly loses sight of her, and for a moment he worries, because he should be in there, he should be helping his friends.

He steps towards the door, just as his phone rings in his pocket. Nobody has his number except now Allison, so he's cautious to answer it.

It's his father. Stiles has barely had the phone for a day or two, but his dad has already programmed himself in under 'Sheriff'. "Yo." Stiles says, "How things going daddy-o…"

"Stiles. What is all this about a coyote?"

"Oh." Stiles ducks back into the alley he was in earlier, "That's Malia. So you know you sent me out looking for the dead girl? I found a coyote and her eyes flash blue. I think that Malia turned into a coyote after the full moon. She came up to the school to get the doll that belonged to her sister. She had it by the car like flowers for her mother and sister, but I took it and so she followed me into school and broke into the library."

"Are you saying that a coyote knocked over two bookcases and broke a window."

"Just one window. The one in the door. The others were broken by the kanima."

"What the hell is a kanima?" His dad is beginning to sound impatient.

"So you know these murders?" Stiles asks, "The mechanic, the guy in the woods, Mr Lahey, they've all been done by this creature. It's like a lizard man, and it can paralyze you with its claws. It's called a kanima, and that's all I know. Scott didn't tell me anything about it - I swear - otherwise I would have told you before. Anyway we chased it… well it chased us… out of the school and we followed it into town and it went into this club and…" On cue there is another scream and the sound of people trying to get out.

"Oh joy," Stiles' dad sighs over the phone, "I understood none of that, by the way, so you're explaining this to me later. Just… for now just tell me where you are so I can get there before dispatch calls."

"Jungle. It's a club down south by Sycamore Street…"

"I know where it is…" there is the sound of the Sheriff moving towards his car, "Stiles, you know that's a gay club, right? What the hell were you doing there?"

"Well, dad, that…" Stiles paces to the end of the alleyway, "That is a conversation we may need to have…"

"You're not gay."

"I could be!" Stiles snaps, "Bisexuality is a thing, you know!"

"Now that, I might believe." His dad sounds like he's laughing, "You can never make up your mind, can you?"

"I'm hanging up on you." Stiles says, "It's for your own safety. Don't drink and talk. Don't drive and talk. Whatever." He hangs up just as his dad is saying 'I love you', and stares at the phone with a fond look in his eyes.

The screaming has stopped, so Stiles steps back towards the front of the club, preparing to duck inside and look for either the killer lizard or his friends when a light breeze blows a scent towards him.

He freezes, and for a moment he could have sworn Chris Argent looks right at him before Stiles is throwing himself sideways behind a parked car. The sound of police sirens suggests his dad is well on his way, but Stiles can still hear the hunters talking.

"Seven paralyzed. The rumour is drugs. Probably hallucinogens, since witnesses say they saw a demonic monster on the dance floor."

And just Chris on his own would be fine, but Chris isn't alone. Next to him Gerard glares around and Stiles presses himself back against the car, heart racing. He pulls out his phone and sends out a text to Allison. 'Gerard and Chris outside. Don't use front entrance.' Then he just prays that she gets it.

"I don't understand how you just stood there and did nothing," Chris is saying, "Can you explain to me why you didn't even try to shoot it?"

"Your bullets did nothing, so why would mine make any difference?" Gerard's laugh sends shivers down Stiles' spine, and for a moment he's back in that basement, with Kate leering at him, that note of insanity in her tone. "I had a suspicion and I went with it."

"You know what it is," Chris accuses, and of course Gerard knows what it is - the bestiary was his after all.

"Maybe," Gerard is enigmatic with his own son, "It likes to play by certain rules and we can't act until we know everything. So for now we'll let Derek and his pack of outcasts run around chasing their tails as they search for this thing."

"Are you suggesting we let them take each other out?" Chris frowns.

"This is the first time you've seen Derek since Kate died, right? So obviously this creature on his territory is enough to bring him out of hiding. Now what did I teach you is the best way to eliminate a threat?"

"Get someone else to do it for you."

Stiles slides out from behind the car, slinking around and keeping low. Allison sent a reply, and he's heading around to meet the others when he practically trips over the body.

It's Jackson and Stiles freezes, because the guy looks dead. He's just lying there slumped as if he had barely managed to get out of the club before shifting back. He's also sans clothes, and Stiles wrinkles his nose, averting his eyes.

He smells blood.

He lets his claws slide out, stepping forwards, and shoving the teenager gently. Jackson doesn't stir, but Stiles can see the wound in his side. Scott must have got him then, but it looks like it's already healing. He reaches out again, poking the guy with one claws. The skin breaks and blood wells up red, but is sucked back into the skin almost instantly.

He needs to get Jackson out of the way, Stiles thinks, considering how he's going to carry an unconscious jock around to Scott and the others, when said werewolf appears at the end of the parked cars. The other wolf is following a trail of black blood to where Jackson lies, looking dead.

"Stiles!" Scott's eyes widen and he steps forwards, "Step away from him!"

Stiles freezes, trying to work out what's wrong. He thinks about how the scene must look, he with his claws out leaning over a snoozing Jackson. He startles upright, eyes flashing blue defensively, "Oh my god!" he exclaims, putting his hands up in a surrendering motion, his claws sheathed, "Did you really think I was going to murder him? Just like that with Allison's dad and grandfather around the corner?"

The look on Scott's face says it all.

Stiles steps back again, actually kind of hurt that Scott is ready to think that of him. That's when Lydia appears, running over. Allison hovers by Scott. "What happened?" he asks her, ignoring the way Scott is shooting him puppy-dog eyes.

"He paralyzed a load of people, including Danny."

"Any dead?"

"No."

"So what now?" Lydia looks up from where she's confirmed that Jackson is still breathing, "What do we do with him?"

Stiles shrugs and then decides to suggest what they're obviously thinking, "We should kill him."

"We are not killing him." Scott glares. "That's what Derek wants to do, and if we wanted that then Erica and Isaac would still be hanging around." He glances between Allison and Stiles as if he's still trying to work out what they did with the pair.

"For god's sake… FINE! What do you want to do with him then?" Stiles gestures at the dead weight lying there.

Scott glances between them then at Jackson decisively, "We need to take him somewhere where we can hold him long enough to figure out what to do with him. Or long enough to convince him he's dangerous."

"And to stop Derek and his pack killing him," Lydia reminds him, because - oh yeah - that's important too.

"What about your lakehouse?" Scott asks Lydia as she stands up, and the four of them stand there, their knocked out sort of friend in the middle with them forming a circle around him.

She shakes her head, "No. Not again. My mom will ask questions and I don't want her finding out."

Allison glances at Scott, "What about your house?"

"Not with my mom there."

"I can steal a police lock up van," Stiles suggests, "One of those ones they use for transferring prisoners."

"There are times you really scare me," Allison jokes, but looks worried, "Do you have to steal it? Isn't that illegal? Don't answer that. Would your dad give us one if we asked?"

"Maybe. But if he got caught giving it to us it could cost him his job. Actually me stealing one would do that too, so…" Stiles looks thoughtful.

They all turn to look at Lydia.

She pulls a face, "Fine. You can use my lakehouse."

Jackson wakes up several hours later, chained up and handcuffed to one of the posts in Lydia's boathouse which they had decided on because it was less likely someone would hear him from the road. Any sounds made would travel out over the lake instead.

Jackson is well and truly caged.

Naturally he's not impressed

"MCCALL! ARGENT! STILINSKI! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"