we aren't who we used to be

by Eclipse Wing

Stiles and Scott were both bitten that night in the woods. But now his and Scott's friendship is in ruins. Derek is an alpha with a new pack, Gerard is in town and there is a new killer on the loose. Peter may be dead but everyone needs to learn to live with the consequences of their choices. s2 AU

3. Part 3

we aren't who we used to be part 3/?

---

Jackson is locked in the boathouse in the thick chains that had been intended for Scott's full moon. Stiles can hear that he's woken up, the sharp change in breathing and the rattling of metal cuffs.

He neglects to mention it to the others as Allison tiredly brushes a strand of hair out of her face. She keeps glancing at her phone, as if expecting her mother to trace the phone and drag her home or something. She sees Stiles watching her and pockets it, determinedly looking towards Lydia, "I still don't get it," she says, "How is Jackson the kanima? He passed Derek's test, didn't he?"

Scott steps forwards from where he had been lurking, looking for food in the kitchen. He's holding a bowl of cereal, but isn't eating. Instead he looks mildly sick as he pushes the cornflakes around the bowl of milk. "No," he shakes his head, "I don't know."

"Maybe it's like an either - or - thing," Stiles suggests, splaying one palm out and tilting it this way and that. He's aware of their gazes swivelling to him, but doesn't quell from it. "I mean, a snake can't be poisoned by its own venom, right? So the kanima can't be poisoned by its own venom… but when is the kanima not the kanima?"

"When it's Jackson," Lydia stands so close to him that Stiles can feel the heat radiating off her. She doesn't seem uneasy or nervous being around him, and Stiles wonders if they can finally move past that now everything is out in the open. The red head sighs, "What are we going to do with him? We can't keep him locked up forever!"

They're deferring all their decisions to Scott and Stiles' friend looks stricken and worried. Stiles angles his body to Lydia, "We do everything as normal." He says, "Otherwise the hunters will pick up on the fact Jackson isn't in. They're still looking for him, right?" he glances at Allison.

She nods.

"Someone should keep an eye on him," Lydia interjects.

Stiles shrugs, "Fine. I'll stay."

"Uh, no." Lydia casts him a sideways glance, "I'll stay," she volunteers, "I'm acing all my classes. I can afford to miss one day of school."

Stiles frowns, slightly wary about the person watching Jackson being the only one without any way of defending herself. "You sure you don't need one of us to stay with you?" he offers, "My grades are fine."

"But your recent attendance isn't when you've been making friends with coyotes." Lydia says, her tone snarky and leaving no room for argument.

"Yeah, what is up with that?" Scott latches onto that topic and Stiles frowns, because he still hasn't worked out how he can prove to his friends about Malia when he barely believes it himself.

"I'll tell you later," he chooses the easy option, "It's complicated." He adds on when Scott looks wary. His friend has the expression that promises there will be a later.

"Good," Lydia says, smiling, "That's settled. Now you three better hurry or you're going to be late for school."

She looks stupidly smug.

---

The others rush off, Allison squashing herself into the back of Stiles' jeep while Scott rides shotgun. Lydia watches them go, then walks back inside, feeling eerily calm as she heads through the door to the boathouse.

Jackson is awake when she enters and she avoids looking at him as she throws the sandwiches in her hand towards him. "Stiles got you food," she says, dispassionately, "You have an option of turkey club or ham and cheese."

"What are you doing? Why am I locked up here like McCall on a full moon?" Jackson ignores the offer of food and yanks at his chains, trying to move closer to where she stands, staring down at him.

"Correction," Lydia sniffs, "Scott got locked up in the basement. This? Is the boathouse."

"Oh that makes it so much better." He sneers, looking like he wants to throttle her with the chains.

"We're actually doing you a favour." Lydia points out, "Oh and be thankful I dressed you and not Stiles. He might have let his claws slip." Jackson looks slightly cowed but still pissed off.

"What am I doing here?" he demands, trying to control his temper.

Lydia debates it for a moment, but Jackson seems to have no understanding of why he's there. He doesn't even know he's the kanima, she realises. He has no clue. So she tells him. "You've been turning into a giant lizard to kill people."

He stares at her for a moment, wondering if it's a joke, "I don't believe you."

"Tough." She shrugs, crossing her arms, regretting that almost instantly because it's a defensive position. "You have scales and everything," she adds.

"Scales?"

"Reptilian scales. Yellow eyes. Your claws have a paralytic venom dripping off them and you have a tail."

"A tail?" for a moment Jackson seems to be pondering this, "Does it do anything?"

"Tails are usually present for balance and extended manoeuvrability." Lydia answers, "But if you're asking if it does anything cool like strangle people then no."

Jackson's face is still staring at her in disbelief, "I." he emphasises, "Am NOT a giant lizard."

"Actually you are." Lydia shrugs, "After the coyote broke into the library what did you do?"

He frowns, shaking his head. She's expecting him to hesitate, to claim he doesn't remember. Instead: "We escaped. We got out. I went home." His tone doesn't waver and Lydia wishes she could hear his heartbeat.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

Lydia stares at him, and under her gaze he looks a bit daunted, "Well I think you turned into a giant lizard and ran off into town where you promptly went for Danny and paralyzed him and half a dozen other people."

"Why would I go after Danny?" Jackson hisses, "He's my best friend."

"I don't know," Lydia shrugs, "But I'm going to find out. I have nine pages of archaic Latin to translate that might provide the answer to why you're killing people. Because it wasn't just last night. There was one of Argent's hunters in the woods. There was a mechanic in a garage. Oh and then you chased me around the school pool after paralyzing Derek and Erica."

Jackson shakes his head, face dark, "You're crazy," he snaps, "Are you trying to get back at me for dumping you or something? Because this? This is crazy!"

She smiles thinly, because the reminder that Jackson doesn't love her anymore stings all the time. "You think I want to be doing this?" she asks him. His expression says it all, "Look, I don't like this anymore than you do. But we have to do something. People are dying!"

Jackson tugs at his chains again and Lydia steps backwards, flinching slightly, "Oh yeah?" he snarls, "Well before you start pointing fingers at me, why don't you look at your murderous little boyfriend?"

"I'm not dating Stiles," she snaps.

"No?" Jackson angles his head, "Because it looked that way at the formal when you were glued to each other's lips!"

Lydia's laugh is bitter and full of impatience. She had no idea Jackson could be so petty as being jealous, but then this is Jackson. Of course he would be jealous, "You have no right to be jealous." She snaps, even though he has every right and one of her reasons for even going to the formal with Stiles had been with the express purpose of making him jealous. "You. Dumped me. And anyway. I've moved on."

"You're lying."

Her smiles flickers, "No, I'm not." She says, but Jackson has this determined look on his face as if he can hear her heartbeat.

"Yes." He leers, "You are. Because if you didn't love me, you'd have given me back the key to my house by now."

Lydia shrugs, trying to pretend as if Jackson isn't right, as if the key isn't still pressed to her chest from where she wears it around her neck. "So what if I do?" she asks him, trying to shrug it off, "It's not getting you out of here. This? This is for your own good." And with that she turns and makes for the exit.

"Wait!" Jackson shouts after her, "Wait! Don't! My parents will be looking for me! They'll know I'm missing."

"Except… oh yeah…" Lydia stands framed in the doorway, waving Jackson's phone around, "Maybe not," she pulls a face, "Staying at a friend's house. Be home tomorrow." She quotes the text she sent them, "I even missed off an 'I love you'." she purses her lips, "I guess I do know you too well," she says airily, and then turns, leaving a frustrated Jackson chained to the post of her boathouse.

---

Stiles drops Allison off at her house so she can sneak into her own room, grab her bag and sneak out again, just as silently. She drives her own car to the school and parks, well-aware that she's going to be missing first period. She hopes she can make the last half-hour at least, but when she steps into the school only to be confronted with her grandfather she knows that's not going to happen.

"Allison," his face lights up in a smile, but it's brittle and cold, "I was hoping I could talk to you."

"Now?" she asks, looking around, but class is on and there is nobody around.

"My office is just here," he gestures, "It won't take a moment."

She has no choice but to follow him, to let the door swing shut and to take a seat opposite him, feeling like she's done something wrong. Does Gerard know? Does he know about the two omega wolves and her link to them? Does he know about Jackson or Lydia or…

"God," Gerard pulls a face as he swallows a handful of pills with a glass of water in one hand, "When I was your age," he starts the conversation, "I didn't even take vitamins." He laughs, and eyes the pill bottle Allison always seems to be seeing him with and then pockets it, "Now I'm choking down a cocktail of pills three times a day. But, I do what my doctor tells me, because I trust him. Trust is a commodity our family holds very high, you know? And my daughter, well, your aunt Kate died doing what she thought was right. Her intentions may have been a bit misguided-"

"A bit?" Allison can't help but interrupt him, "Kate killed people. She murdered an entire family…" she stops, in case she blurts something out she'll regret.

"You're a lot like her, you know?" her grandfather tilts his head to the side.

"I don't want to be like her," Allison bites her lip, "She killed people. Murdered. And she thought she was doing the right thing!"

"But she was strong," Gerard chooses just the right words, Allison notices, and only a month ago she would have given anything to be strong.

But she is. She can take on a beta werewolf with nothing more than a pair of poisoned knives. She and Lydia together took out Peter Hale with a Molotov cocktail and an arrow.

"Kate challenged me too," Gerard laughs, "I like that you're challenging me. It's good not to follow in the footsteps of your predecessors, but to strike out on your own. Just don't forget to take your family's values with you along the way, but make them your own."

She's done that. She's taken her family's code and made it her own. She hasn't told anyone, but that doesn't matter. It's her code and she's the only one who needs to follow it.

Nous protegeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger leurs-même.

"Do you trust me, Allison?"

She doesn't know how to answer that honestly. She pauses, and stares at him, playing the wide-eyed little girl act. "I don't know you," she says, and that's the most honest thing she can say.

"We're family," Gerard sighs, "I hope there comes a time when you can trust me. Because I will always be there for you, even when your friends aren't. Because the one trust you never question is family. And I know a teenager's first instinct is to protect their friends, but I'm hoping Allison, that for the sake of family, you might help out an old man here."

She stares at him, wondering what the hell he's talking about.

"Jackson Whittemore and Lydia Martin didn't show up to school this morning." Gerard says, "After the attack in the library yesterday they never spoke to the police. Do you know where they are?"

"No." Allison shakes her head, "Did you ask Stiles?" she suggests, "He was there as well…" she stops, because Gerard is standing.

"I'm going to ask again," he says, "But this time I want to monitor your pulse," and he moves until she can't see him, he's standing right behind her. Two warm fingers press to her neck. "Do you know where Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore are?"

Allison takes a deep breath. Think like Stiles, is the only thing running through her head.

She knows where they are, but not precisely. She has no idea of co-ordinates, or whether Lydia is sitting on the sofa, in the boat house with Jackson, or even moved him to the basement. "No," she says, "I haven't seen Jackson since yesterday." True. She'd last seen him unconscious last night. "And Lydia I saw at school yesterday." True. She had seen Lydia at school and she had seen her friend after as well.

But her pulse stays steady and Gerard pulls away, looking torn between disappointed and proud. "I'm sorry for using those sorts of tactics on you," his smile is apologetic, "Have you ever heard of the phrase "know thy enemy"? I just… I like to try and apply it to life."

"It's from the 'Art of War'," Allison says, slowly, and she grabs her bag even though she hasn't been dismissed. The bell is thankfully about to ring, "Sun Tzu." She adds, "It means you have to know everything about your enemy."

"Exactly."

"You're not talking about my friends anymore, are you?" she asks.

He shakes his head, "There is another enemy out there, far more skilled than any hunter and more dangerous than any werewolf. I just hope that if you know anything, or find anything out, then you'll trust me enough to share your information with me."

She steps back towards the door, "If I find anything out of importance," she says, "I'll be sure to tell you."

It's another evasive lie. Allison might find out plenty of information about wolves and lizards and her friends, but was any of it important enough to warrant telling Gerard?

No.

Allison would keep her friend's secrets.

---

"McCall!" Coach calls as Scott makes to follow after Stiles, "Stay for a moment." Scott lingers in the doorway, and Coach gestures violently towards his desk. Reluctantly Scott goes, casting one last look after where Allison and Stiles have met and vanished along the corridor.

"Yes, Coach?" he asks.

"Look at this." Coach throws something down on his desk, "This is a disgrace. As Team Captain you have responsibilities…"

"Co-captain," Scott corrects, "Uh… these aren't mine."

"No," Finstock stares at him, "But you're captain. Co-captain. Making sure everybody keeps their equipment in top notch condition is your responsibility."

Scott is too busy picking up the lacrosse gloves, eyeing the torn fingers where claws have probably sliced through them. "These are Danny's," he finds the label.

"Well that's great," Coach's voice drips with sarcasms, "Now tell Danny to look after his own equipment, otherwise I'm gonna' make you take care of his equipment for him. Now, do you really want to be taking care of Danny's equipment all the time?"

Scott looks up, his face a careful blank. "That depends. Are we still talking about lacrosse pads?"

Coach stares, "Dismissed," he says curtly, "And give me those," he snatches the lacrosse gear out of Scott's hand. Scott stumbles back, smirking slightly, and Coach glares at him, "Get out of here!"

"Going," Scott grabs his bag and legs it, but the smile slips of his face. Because those are Danny's pads from the game the other night but Danny…

Danny had been playing in goal.

He swallows down the knowledge that it had been Jackson, Jackson at the pool, at the house, at the garage, Jackson killing those people.

Jackson who had gone after Danny.

Scott needs to talk to Danny.

---

Allison doesn't get a chance to talk to Scott after his economics class. It's their last class of a day and she got out of French early, so she lingers outside the classroom. Scott doesn't make it out though, so Stiles meets up with her. "Coach is talking to him," he says, and his eyes flicker up, then he angles himself. Allison takes a moment trying to work out why he's keeping his head down, when she remembers the cameras.

"I can't believe they've installed cameras," she sighs, "It's extreme."

"Do you think Gerard knows?" Stiles asks.

Allison shrugs, "He quizzed me earlier. I think he knows I know something, but not what." She glances up as they pass a camera. "Your eyes would flare, wouldn't they?" she asks.

"Yeah," Stiles nods, "And Isaac's. And Erica's. And Boyd's."

"I've got a text from Lydia," Allison says, "She's found something in the bestiary so we're meeting up."

Stiles curses, glancing over his shoulder, "Scott's going to the hospital," he says. "He'll meet us there."

Allison peers down the corridor, but Scott isn't there, "You can hear him from here?" she asks, still leaning over. Stiles is nodding, and they've stopped by his locker so he can pull out his headphones.

"Won't your mom and dad murder me for being seen with you?" Stiles asks.

"Well it's not like Lydia is around as an alternative," Allison shrugs, "And my dad's been a bit more lenient." Stiles raises one eyebrow, and she elaborates, "He wants to train me." She says, "I agreed, but I told him he can't tell me who I can or can't hang out with at school."

Stiles shrugs one shoulder "Seems fair enough."

"My mom doesn't know," Allison adds.

"Even more reason to do it." Stiles says, "Every teenager needs a rebellious phase, right?"

---

The translated bestiary sits in front of her. She'd started on some of the other entries as well, because she might as well have a fully translated copy in case they ever needed it. She had wandered down to talk to Jackson, and then left when he got annoyed at her. Now she wanders outside, to see if Stiles or Allison or Scott have arrived yet.

School had only just got out, she thinks with a sigh, seeing the time on her phone. She prepares herself to wait, when a shape moves down the driveway.

It's the boy from the woods. He's strolling forwards, his hands stuffed in his pockets and shoulders hunched. He glances up and a smile spreads across his face as he sees her.

"What are you doing here?" Lydia slowly lowers her phone.

"I came to see you." the boy frowns, "You weren't in school." He elaborates, "I was worried."

He takes a step towards her and then stops, blinking with a hurt expression on his face. "I…" he falters, "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Step backwards." He takes another step towards her and she moves away. "I just wanted to bring you something. I thought you might like it."

"Is there any explanation that sounds less creepy-ish and stalker-ish?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well I heard about your bite." He gestures at the bandage where it peeks out from under her cardigan sleeve.

"I'm fine. What did you bring me?"

"Here?" he holds out a flower. Lydia takes it, spinning it between her fingers.

"Wait a second. I never told you it was a bite." Lydia glances up sharply, flower still clutched in her fingers, "And… what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't," the guy smiles, blue eyes sparkling.

"So?" she presses, nervous for some reason, "What is it?"

He leans closer and she doesn't move. For a moment she thinks he's going to kiss her, but instead he brushes past, his lips hovering near her ear. He whispers just one word.

Just one.

"Peter."

---

This time Allison doesn't have to squeeze into the back of Stiles' jeep. The back is relatively spacious to sit in, but squeezing over the seats is an issue. Scott's not there though, so she rides shotgun.

"Has Scott texted you?" she asks Stiles, nervously.

"No," he shakes his head, "He still can't text you, huh?"

"No," Allison shakes her head, "My mom is checking all my phone calls in and out. All my texts. Probably even my internet history, but luckily I delete that," she laughs weakly. "It makes meeting up with Scott outside of school really difficult," she admits to him, "We've been leaving messages on car windows."

"You and Scott." Stiles sounds almost bitter, "You two are still going huh?"

"Yeah," she breathes out.

"I don't get…" Stiles stops and for a moment he is concentrating on driving.

"Don't get what?" she pushes.

"I don't get how he… how you and he can go back to normal. But our friendship… he let you crawl back to him, but me? I can't. He doesn't want to know me anymore."

"Maybe that's because I didn't kill anybody." She realises her tone is too harsh and relents, "Maybe it's because you've known him for so long. He expected more from you."

"Scott has so much faith in me, and I'm just…. I'm just not built like that. I can never be like Scott. The most I can do is make sure no one breaks me."

"So you built up all these walls to keep people out. Went out doing your own thing… but it didn't work, did it?" Stiles isn't looking at her but whether it's from stubbornness or just great driving safety she isn't sure. "Look, do you… you told me once you had a crush on Lydia, right? Do you remember what that felt like? Do you remember all those times you saw her standing down the hall and just couldn't breathe? Or those times when she smiled at you and it felt like your heart just stopped?"

Stiles' lips twist, "No," he shakes his head, "Lydia doesn't look at me like that anymore. And I… I can't think of her like that without remembering how she looked beautiful even when Peter sank his fangs into her wrist."

And yeah, Allison can't really think of anything to make that better. "Scott hasn't left you behind," she says, "I mean… I know he spent so long enraptured over me, at least it felt that way and that was amazing because I've never had anybody like that before but… when it wasn't me and him, it was him and you. You get that, right?"

"I'm not jealous," Stiles says, but his voice is strained, "I was happy for him. Even… even when you turned out to be from a hunting family you just… I've never seen him so happy. So in love."

Allison feels her heart do this strange little flutter, "I love him too," she whispers.

"I know," Stiles smiles, glancing briefly at her before looking back to the road, "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it. He… Scott deserves it." The jeep turns onto the road heading towards the lake house.

"Yeah," Allison hums, "Just remember… Stiles… that you deserve to be happy too."

He makes a noise, and it's impossible to tell what he means, but she thinks he disagrees.

---

"Are you sure everything is okay between you and Jackson?" Scott hovers as Danny pulls his shirt on; finally being deemed fit to leave the hospital after last night's incident with a hallucinogenic and some sort of paralytic agent.

The doctors and police are baffled as to what happened, except perhaps the Sheriff.

"Yeah," Danny is frowning as he pulls on a shirt. "Everything's fine."

"Are you sure?" Scott frowns, "Because he ruined your lacrosse pads."

Danny stares at him.

"Yeah," Scott elaborates then, "Coach found them under the bleachers ripped into little shreds."

"Then somebody owes me a new set," Danny sighs, "Did the cops have to take my fake ID?" the other boy mumbles as he rifles through his wallet.

"So Jackson doesn't want to hurt you violently. Potentially lethally? On a scale of one to ten how annoyed is he with you?"

"He's permanently on a four," Danny stops to consider Scott's questions, "But that's just Jackson. Seriously, why so curious? Jackson and I are fine. I was actually doing him a favour."

Scott's head snaps up, "What favour?" he asks.

"I was recovering a video for him," Danny waves a hand around, "It's on my tablet… which in in the trunk of my car and probably still at the club." He sighs, looking frustrated.

Scott is too busy thinking. That's the video everyone had mentioned, the not-a-sex-tape video. If he had that video he'd be able to prove what happened to Jackson on the night of the full moon.

That's why the kanima had gone after Danny. Whether to silence him or something equally as sinister, Scott isn't sure, but there is motive there to keep everything hidden.

"Are you okay?" Danny is staring at Scott, "You… didn't come to visit me, did you?"

"Of course!" Scott blusters, "I had to check you were okay. I just… I need to go check something… really quickly…"

Danny just shrugs, "Sure, dude. Nice of you to pop by."

"Yeah, yeah… and hey!?"

Danny looks up.

"I'll see what I can do about persuading Stiles to steal your fake ID back."

The other teenager's smile is grateful, "Thanks. And also… I'm glad you two are talking to each other again."

Scott slips out of the room and feels his smile fade. Yeah, they were talking again. Or something like that. He heads towards the entrance, head down and planning his route to the lake house. He should stop by the club, see if he can pick up the tablet with the video on it…

"Scott," his mom appears right in front of him. "We need to talk."

He freezes, because that sounds like nothing good.

"While visiting your friend is commendable, I really need to play tough mom, even though I'm not very good at it?"

Scott's feet are itching to get moving. Stiles, Allison and Lydia will be waiting for him. "Now?" he asks, looking around.

"Yes," Melissa nods slowly, "Right now. I just got a call from your principal. You are failing two classes!?" her voice is both shocked and disappointed. "Do you know if you fail even one of your midterms they're going to hold you back? All your friends are going to be juniors while you are still a sophomore!"

Scott's heart thumps, because that's true. Lydia and Stiles are passing all classes with some sort of vengeance which suggests that in a year or two they'll be getting into heated arguments about who gets to be valedictorian. Allison has already been held back a year, and now she's not moving around she's finding the work easy.

Scott isn't. He's never found school easy. If he put the time and effort into studying he knows he'd get there, but right now with werewolves and kanimas he just doesn't have the time.

He sighs, "I'm trying," Scott says, "That's why I'm studying with Stiles right now." He tries to appear bright.

Melissa doesn't look fooled, "The Sheriff says you and Stiles got into a fight. Is this… is this about Allison?"

Scott winces, "No, mom…" he shakes his head.

"Really?" Melissa frowns, "You're still seeing her, aren't you?"

"What?"

"Scott." She pulls a face, "I found the box in your room."

Scott thinks he may either stop breathing or die from embarrassment right there.

His mother just sighs, "I understand." She says, shoulders lumping slightly, "You're young. You're in love. I was like you once too, I know it's hard to believe." She crosses her arms, looking at him almost fondly, "But you need to prioritise. College. Studies. A job."

"I have a job."

"At the animal clinic!" Melissa says, "I barely see you anymore! What do you do when you're not working? You're not spending time with Stiles, I know that. Are you spending time with Allison?"

"Allison and Stiles." Scott says, and his mother's face twists, "Not like that!" he blusters, "Not… no…" he takes a deep breath, "Lydia is there as well," he adds, "In fact I'm meeting up with them now and we're all studying. Together."

Melissa looks only marginally comforted by that. "Are you going to be home late tonight as well?" she sighs, "And I hope you're studying for that chemistry test I had to beg Mr. Harris to let you make up."

"I missed a chemistry test?" Scott wracks his brain, trying to remember when that was.

"Really, Scott?" Melissa sighs, "I'm going to have to establish some rules. I'm not going to stop you seeing your friends, but you are grounded. I want you home before nine."

"Nine? But what about work?"

"Fine - other than work. And no TV."

"My TV's broken."

"Then no computer."

"I need the computer for school."

His mother sighs, "Then no Stiles."

He opens his mouth to remind her that he and Stiles aren't on the best of terms but she must notice his distress.

"Oh sweetie," she sighs, grabbing one of his hands, "Are you okay? Is there something going on that you think you can't tell me? I mean… you and Stiles were so close and now I barely even see him. He hasn't broken into my house in over a month, and that baseball bat isn't getting any use in." She laughs weakly.

Scott offers a weak grin, "There's just a lot of… stuff… going on…" he says weakly. "Do you really want to know?"

"I do," she says, "But not now. Now… you go and study. I'll talk with you later." She pats him on the shoulder. "I love you." she says, and even though Scott doesn't need her to say it, it's nice to know.

"Yeah," he says, stepping past her and pausing to wrap one arm around her in a hug, "I love you too. And things will get better. I promise."

---

Lydia's text was sent an hour ago. And they've all responded. Eventually. Stiles and Allison pulled up a good forty-five minutes before Scott finally cycled his way there.

Jackson is still chained in the boat house.

Lydia spreads everything on the table, the paper scattered out for them to see. She looks grim as Allison sits beside her and Scott opposite them. Stiles stands, arms crossed and looking wary.

"Kanima…" Lydia reads out from her notes, "…like the wolf, its power is greatest at the moon's peak. It is a social creature, but while a wolf seeks a pack, the kanima will seek a master." She stops, and she's looking nervous. Stiles frowns, concerned for her, but she steadies her hands and glances around, waiting for input.

Scott is frowning, "A master?" he asks, "What does that mean?"

"It means there's someone else," Stiles is the first to say it. Nobody else is going to after all, "The kanima. And its master. It means it… it's working for someone." He feels mildly sick at that thought.

"Someone's controlling him," Allison summarises. "Jackson doesn't even know what he's doing. He has no idea."

"He's like a puppet," Stiles whispers. "He doesn't even remember. He must go into this… fugue state and just forget everything… the murder, the blood…"

Scott gapes for a moment, "Danny's tablet was missing," he blurts out, "Danny had just gotten the video sorted for Jackson of the night of the full moon. Something must have happened that night, but someone deleted the video. But when Danny managed to retrieve it, they needed to get rid of the evidence again."

"So they got Danny out of the way while they stole the tablet," Allison breathes, ducking her head to grab the translated page, "Online it said the kanima only goes after murderers."

"That can't be true." Lydia frowns, "It went after me at the pool. And as far as I know I haven't killed anybody lately." She glances at Stiles and he shifts, because it hadn't gone after him. Not even when he had appeared in front of it to snatch a coyote away from it, the creature had let him go.

Allison is still skipping through the text. She begins reading. "A weapon of vengeance, it is used to carry out the bidding of its master." She quotes, "The kanima was once used by a South American priest who took it upon himself to rid his village of all murderers. The bond between master and servant grew stronger until the will of the master became that of the kanima's and whomever the priest deemed unworthy, the kanima served his vengeance." She frowns, looking up, "So someone is killing people out of revenge and getting Jackson to do it."

"So what do we do?"

"We need to find the master." Lydia shrugs, "Stop them killing people."

"Or…" Allison taps the paper, "The kanima is a mutation of a werewolf bite, right? It cannot transform fully…" she reads, "Until it resolves that in its past which manifest it." She looks up, "So our other option is if we help Jackson transform fully."

"Kill Jackson," Stiles shrugs, "Problem solved."

Scott shoots him this look that is almost disappointed, "We are not killing him. He risked his life for us. Against Peter, you remember that?"

"Yeah, actually," Stiles narrows his eyes and looks away, not meeting Scott's gaze, "He got the bite from Derek. It's funny how he just got exactly what he wanted by supposedly risking his life for us," he sneers, "And now we have to save him again so he can be a werewolf! And what do you think he's going to do afterwards? Run off and play lacrosse and lord it over us." His words are bitter.

"That's just because Jackson is an ass," Lydia snaps, "I think we can save him." She stares at Stiles and that - that makes him back down with a short nod.

"How?" he points out, quietly, "What issue is there in his past we need to resolve?"

Lydia looks grim, "He's adopted."

"We know that." Stiles sighs, "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Yeah, but what you don't know is that his birth parents are dead." Lydia sighs, "They're buried half a mile away in Beacon Hills cemetery."

Allison frowns, "From what Jackson told me, I'd always assumed they'd abandoned him." She taps her fingers against her bag, considering everything, "What happened? Do you know?"

Lydia nods, glancing around, "It was a car accident. His parents were dead on arrival. 9:26PM on June 14th. Jackson was born the day after, June 15th, by C-Section." Allison winces, "Yeah," Lydia hums, "Still wonder why he's got issues?"

"So he needs a shit-load of therapy," Stiles interjects, "We knew that already! But plenty of people are adopted and they don't turn into homicidal lizards."

"They don't get bitten by werewolves either," Scott points out, sighing. "How are we meant to help Jackson resolve that? We… we're just a bunch of teenagers. We can't handle this. I… I told my mom I was studying with you guys. I'm failing two classes. I can't work out how to fix Jackson and fix my own life as well!"

"And we still need to work out who the master is," Stiles points out, "Who is controlling him…" he frowns, "Someone who wanted Lahey and those other guys dead."

"No but wait…" Lydia is frowning, "If Jackson turned the night of the full moon then… then did he turn the night before as well? He killed Isaac's father, didn't he?"

"Yeah…" Scott is about to reply, when there is a clattering from the door. The four of them look up, and for some reason Lydia flinches just a little bit more than she should. "Is Jackson still locked up?" Scott asks, warily.

"He was when I checked up on him before you guys showed up," Lydia whispers. "Can you smell anything…?"

"Yeah," Stiles is already standing, making his way towards the front door where the sound came from. "Yeah… I've got to…"

"Stiles - don't!" Lydia stands and moves after him.

"What is it?" Allison asks, "What can you smell?"

Scott is standing too, but Stiles isn't planning to stick around.

"What can you smell?" Allison asks again.

"Coyote."

---

The door is open when Stiles gets there, and he pauses for a moment, framed in it and staring outside. It's dark out, and in the distance he can see the lithe shape he knows to be Malia.

She's standing there, watching him. When she sees him there, she lets out a bark and then turns tail and runs. She only moves a few feet before stopping and turning again.

Stiles doesn't hesitate. Pausing only to tell the others, "I'll be right back," he throws himself out into the night.

He can hear Scott's frantic protests and Lydia's confusion, but he ignores that, moving off after the coyote. Upon seeing him following her the creature lifts her head up and skips around happily before darting off. It's like she's playing a game as she races away before he can catch up.

Stiles vanishes after her, because he can't let her get away again.

---

"Are we going after him?" Allison asks.

"Of course," Scott says, "You can stay here if you want but this is the second time he's found that coyote."

"Or that the coyote has found us," Lydia sniffs, "I'm coming."

"Count me in," Allison says, and closes the door behind them. The night has closed in, and she can't see Stiles anymore. Scott is going to have to lead, tracking his friend by scent. "Is this the same coyote as the one that was at the school?" she asks Lydia as they head out into the dark forest.

Lydia shrugs, "Who knows?"

Allison has this brief reminder that Stiles had been searching for a girl the other night. Instead he had come back with a coyote.

They really need to get Stiles to explain himself.

"Have you seen the cameras at school?" she makes conversation as they pick their way slowly throughout the dry leaves and trees. "It's bad enough my family monitor every camera in town, but now at school?"

Scott pulls a face, "Yeah," he says. "They're closing in. Not just the kanima, but Derek's pack won't be able to hide for much longer."

"I'll pass on anything I can," Allison says, all too aware of what she's promising. But she chose her side weeks ago, "Anything, I promise. Anything and everything."

"You don't have to do that," Scott protests," They're your family. I don't want you doing something you'll regret."

She grabs onto his arm, making his pause, "I can never regret you," she says, meeting his gaze, "Okay? I never want to regret you, meeting you, finding out and helping with the werewolf things, none of it. I want to treasure it forever, so that when we're at college we'll look back and laugh and…"

His face is twisted and she stops, staring. "College?" he asks with a funny look on his face, "You want to go to college with me?"

She shrugs, suddenly glad it's dark as she blushes, "Well if we get into the same place, then yeah of course. Otherwise we'll be having Skype calls every other day and…" she smiles weakly.

"Well you better not get into too good a college," Scott jokes, "My grades suck at the moment."

"I'll tutor you," Allison promises, stepping forwards. Scott blinks at her, and the way he's looking at her, as if she's something precious makes her fall in love just that little bit more.

"Oh yeah?" he says, stammering slightly.

"I'm serious," she says, "I want to be with you. You know that right?"

"I know," Scott says and judging by the weight in his words, he does.

"Good," she breathes, and then leans forwards the remaining distance to kiss him. It's perfect, there under the dark night sky and she wishes they could just stay like that forever. But they need to find Stiles and his coyote, and they need to sort out Jackson. She pulls back, smiling at him softly.

He blinks, looking star struck. "We should… we should…"

She kisses him again, just to see his reaction. He laughs, "We should save that for another time," he wraps an arm around her, "We need to find…" he stops, frowning suddenly.

"What is it?" Allison asks, content in Scott's arms for a moment. But the expression on his face sends ice through her stomach.

"Where's Lydia?"

---

Stiles has no idea where the coyote is heading as she lopes through the trees. Lydia's lake house borders the very south of the preserve, and Stiles is more familiar with the north, with the Hale House and the tunnels beneath.

This area isn't familiar, not at all, not at least until he rounds the corner and almost trips over the ravine to where there is a ruined car, lying below upside down. It's the wreck. Her wreck, Stiles realises. He sees her shape through the trees, because this is her territory.

She isn't stopping at the wreck. She circles anxiously and Stiles slows to a walk, stepping cautiously along the edge of the rocky ravine. In the distance the coyote's ears twitch and she stops moving, letting him approach her.

"Malia?" he asks, "Are you okay?"

She makes no sign that she's even understood him.

"I'm Stiles." He says, and stops, about a metre away from her, "And I'm… I'm sorry I stole the doll. That was…" he runs a hand through his hair, "That was stupid of me. Thoughtless."

Her head tilts, but there is no recognition in her eyes.

He might as well be talking to a wild animal.

So he acts like that. He slowly drops into a crouch and holds out one hand invitingly, "I'm not going to hurt you," he promises, "I just… you've been alone in the woods for a long time and… I want to help."

The coyote snuffles and steps towards him, cautiously. A twig cracks and she flinches, backing away a few steps.

"I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to," Stiles draws back his hand and slips into a cross-legged position, sighing. "I'm not like that." He glances up, expecting his familiar hallucination to be there, but for once he's allowed a moment of peace. There is a warm weight in his lap and he blinks down at where the coyote has pressed her nose to his legs, sniffing. "Hey," he says, and she startled a little bit, but relaxes when he doesn't move.

He has no idea if she can understand him, or even if there is much girl left in the coyote. There is a moment that Stiles even doubts that this is a shapeshifter and it's not just a wild coyote he's found, but then she glances up, her eyes flaring the same blue as his own as he knows it's her.

He feels his own eyes burn in response. "Yeah," Stiles admits, "I'm like you. Well… I'm more wolf than coyote… and who knows how that happened. You're just special, I guess."

The coyote clacks her jaws together, and she looks like she is actually considering eating him before she steps forwards, claws sliding on his jeans as slowly and determinedly she arranges herself in his lap.

Stiles has no idea how he ended up with a lapful of coyote, but she settles down, head resting on his knee. She whines slightly and Stiles has no idea what she's trying to say.

He has no idea about a lot of things.

But for the moment he's content to just sit there, occasionally talking, and trying to work out how the hell he is going to turn the coyote back into a girl.

---

"Hello?"

Her voice rings out across the empty house.

Lydia would say she had no idea how she got there, but that would be a lie. She knows why she's there, she doesn't quite remember how she went from trailing behind Scott and Allison and rolling her eyes at their soppy talk, to standing on the porch of the ruined Hale House, but she knows why she's there.

So she calls out like an idiot, looking around. Her feet take her to the main room, where Peter Hale lies buried beneath the floorboards. She stops in the doorway, and she doesn't have to turn to know he's standing right behind her.

"What do you want?" her voice sounds hollow, and quiet. There is a feeling in her gut and she wants to scream, want everything to just stop. She wants to listen, to hear what he has to say.

She has to know.

In front of her the floorboards crack and a hand shoots out, and then speeds forwards, until there is soil scattering and a body, tugging itself up. She catches a glimpse of earth-matted hair and wild eyes and then she blinks and the whole thing is gone.

The floor remains pristine in front of her.

Peter's voice is young, lilting and charming. "To talk. Lydia, I don't mean you any harm." He steps around so she can see him, and then moves until he's standing almost directly over the spot where he's buried, "I know this must be confusing, but rest assured you're not crazy."

"You're dead," she says, "So why the hell can I see you?"

He grins weakly, "You're my backup plan," he spreads his hands out, and Lydia thinks the younger version of Peter is just as charming as the older version, "It's always good to have a backup and that's you. Because Lydia…. You… are… immune."

"I know that already," she feels the bite mark tingle on her wrist, "But what do you want from me?"

Peter holds out a purple flower, the same kind that grow along the walls of the house. Wolfsbane, Lydia realises, stupidly. The whole house is covered in it, and there is a certain irony that a house that used to house wolfsbane now is home to the plant that can kill them.

"I need you to do this one small favour for me," he says. "And then I'll leave you alone."

"Why should I do anything for you?" she whispers, stepping forwards until she could easily reach out and pluck the flower from his finger-tips.

"Why else?" Peter smiles, and its confident as if he knows exactly what she's going to say, exactly what she's going to do, and he knows he has her already. His head tilts to one side. "Self-gain."

Lydia meets his blue gaze for a moment, and then before she can regret her decision she reaches out and takes the flower.

---

"There you are," Scott, after failing to find either Stiles or Lydia, returned to the lake house and sent out texts asking for everyone to group together. Allison had vanished off to check Jackson hasn't starved, and Scott waits outside, shivering slightly from the cold. Lydia is the first to appear, looking none the worse for wear, "Where were you?"

Lydia shrugs, "Where else? Looking for… ah… here he is." She turns just in time for Stiles to emerge, and the teenager is looking bemused, holding a coyote to his chest.

Scott pulls a face, "Why do you have a coyote?"

"Is that the same coyote?" Lydia narrows her eyes.

"Her name is Malia." Stiles corrects and said coyote blinks at them, pressing back into Stiles slightly.

"Did you name her?" Lydia sounds really unimpressed, and her tone demands an explanation, "Stiles, you can't just make a pet out of a wild coyote."

"No… she's… she's a shifter. Like us." Stiles tries to explain, glancing frantically between them, "She's a werecoyote and she shifted on the full moon and got stuck when she was a kid and…"

"She's a what." Lydia deadpans.

"A werecoyote?" Scott repeats, because seriously - what the hell - werecoyotes are a thing now too? He stares at the coyote but for all means it looks like a normal coyote.

There is a clatter as Allison appears from the boat house, wide-eyed and frantic. She barely takes note of the coyote or Lydia, but blurts out, "Uh… guys. Bad news. Jackson? He's gone."

---

They act as if nothing has happened.

It's almost worse, Allison thinks, walking around school, trying to pretend everything is normal. She keeps her head down, not looking up at the cameras they installed literally everywhere. None of the wolves are at school, which Allison thinks is the only good thing. No eyes to flare on camera.

Monday was spent keeping an eye on Derek's betas and ended with them chasing the kanima into town. Tuesday was spent with a kidnapped Jackson at the lake house and it's only Wednesday, but it feels like the week's been going on forever.

Allison hasn't gotten a good night's sleep in three days. The few hours she had caught that morning didn't really count, not when she had to wake up extra early to sneak back into her own house before her mother caught her missing. Stiles looks like he's on drugs, with dark shadows under his eyes, while Scott just looks stressed, hair in a disarray. Lydia is the only one who looks normal, thick make-up and a smile hiding any tiredness the strawberry beauty feels.

She and Lydia are the only ones in school. Stiles and Scott have stopped by the dirty abandoned subway car or den as Allison is pretty sure Derek is calling it. With them they have the coyote who is actually a girl, at least according to Stiles.

"Hey," someone lingers next to her and it takes her longer than it should to realise the guy is speaking to her. Matt, she realises, smiling at him.

"Hey," she says, trying to make her voice warm. Instead it comes out sounding distant and vague.

"You okay?" Matt asks, gesturing at her, and looking concerned.

"Yeah…" she nods, "I… no… yeah, I'm fine." She laughs weakly, "Just fine… I…" she shakes her head, "No, everything is great," she lies, looking at the guy who looks bemused, but nods with her.

"Great," he says, "Because I was wondering if you've heard about the underground show? Apparently they've got some big name spinning."

"Oh, you mean like a rave?" Allison asks, trying to think that of the two parties she's been to, the one ended up with her being driven home by a stranger (werewolf, she would later find out) and the second one ended up with her in the woods, shooting arrows at both friends and enemies.

"If you want to call it a rave," he laughs, "Party, I call it." He's nervous, speaking quickly, "I've got a friend who can hook me up with tickets if you wanted to go along. You game?"

Allison is distracted at that moment by the appearance of Lydia at the end of the corridor, her friend gesturing to her. "I… sure… yeah… look, I've got to go… but I'll see you around, right?"

"Yeah? Cool," he's grinning at her, "It's Friday, so… looking forward to it."

"Yeah, great!" she slips past him, towards where Lydia is rolling her eyes. "What?" she says when she gets within hearing distance of her friend. "Why do you have that look on your face?"

"That guy is totally enamoured with you." she says, clicking her tongue, "It's a pity he just doesn't know when to back off."

"Who? Matt?" Allison laughs, glancing over her shoulder. The photographer is still standing where she left him, and he catches her gaze. She smiles and waves, then turns away, feeling slightly embarrassed. "He's just being friendly," Allison shrugs.

"And he's still staring," Lydia gazes over her friend's shoulder.

"Shut up," Allison steps around the corner, and Lydia follows, "What did you want to say anyway?"

Lydia lets her head fall to one shoulder, "Guess who I've just seen?"

"No," Allison breathes, looking around frantically, "Really? He's here?"

"Yep," Lydia nods, "Jackson. He's at school."

---

"Beacon Hills has an unnatural number of abandoned buildings," Stiles says, as Scott leads him to what is meant to be Derek's base. "And how…" Stiles gapes as they descend the stairs, "How the hell did Derek get a subway car into here? I wasn't even aware Beacon Hills had a subway."

"The train line was used for transporting goods," a dark shape looms out in front of them, and the flicker of red means it's Derek, lurking as usual. The alpha is regarding them with wariness and he doesn't look the least bit trusting. "Scott. Stiles. Why do you have a coyote?"

In his arms, Malia snarls slightly, ears flattening. Stiles shifts her slightly, but thanks to his werewolf strength, she's not heavy. He can feel her heart beating steadily, and her claws dig slightly into his arm, "It's okay," he whispers in her ears. "I'm not going to leave you. Wouldn't leave anybody with these strange wolves."

"Is that the same coyote from the school?" Isaac appears nearby, leaning against a rusted section of metal. Scott steps forwards and Stiles follows. Boyd and Erica are there too, frowning at them.

"Yes," Scott frowns at Malia, as if he still doesn't quite believe Stiles' story, "That's one of the reason's we're here."

"You mean you actually need something from us, right?" Derek laughs, "That's the only reason you'd be crawling to us on your belly. Do you want to join my pack?"

"If we must," Scott says, and Stiles winces, because really joining Derek's pack is the last thing he wants to do.

"And what is the coyote? A mascot?" Derek scoffs.

"My coyote," Stiles turns slightly away, feeling protective over her. He thinks Malia looks slightly smug at that. Stiles doesn't like going full shift. It makes his face fell tingly. But he doesn't need the full shift to snarl at Derek in warning. The alpha doesn't look ruffled, but Erica spooks. Isaac looks slightly cowed, but just stares at Stiles like he's trying to reconsider the boy he's spent the last few weeks helping to strategize lacrosse with. "Her name is Malia," he snaps, "She was nine when on a full moon she was in a car crash. She lost control. Caused the crash. Her mother and sister died and she got stuck as a coyote."

They gape at him.

Stiles crouches, dropping Malia on the ground. She looks nervous and he gestures, "Go on," he tells her, "Show them."

The coyote ducks her head, and when she looks up at everyone her eyes flare electric blue. Stiles has never really considered the colour beautiful before, not in regards to his own eyes, but Malia suits them.

Derek is still gaping. The other betas are gasping at her. Malia looks uncomfortable, and Stiles finds something to perch on and she hops up next to him, pressing against his side with a small whine. "She's been stuck as a coyote for the past seven years. And we need a way to turn her back."

Scott shrugs from where he's standing behind Stiles, "We thought you might know," he tells Derek, "Laura could shift fully into a wolf, couldn't she?"

"Yes," Derek seems at loss for words, "It's rare. Really rare. She…" he gestures at the coyote sitting by Stiles, "Malia?" he queries. The blue-eyed omega nods, "Malia obviously has the ability but it… she got stuck. If we… if we got her back to human it's unlikely she'll manage the full shift for months. Maybe even years."

Malia whines slightly at that.

"Why is she a coyote?" Isaac frowns, "Are werecoyotes a thing?"

"Sometimes the form that you take reflects the person that you are," Derek sounds like he's quoting something or someone, "A coyote is one of the most common forms a shifter can take as opposed to a wolf. The kanima is a rare one." He looks up at Scott, "Is that the other thing? The kanima?"

"Yeah," Scott shuffles uneasily.

"It's Jackson," Derek sighs, "Isn't it?"

Scott gapes, and Stiles sighs, because in hindsight, yeah, it was obvious.

"The test didn't work," Erica frowns, "But it's still Jackson? Why?"

"How many people do you know who have been bitten by a werewolf but haven't turned?" Stiles asks, "Lydia and Jackson. And it's not Lydia. So it had to be him. And he did. He turned. We… we had him locked up, but then he turned again and got out."

"How did you know it was Jackson?" Scott asks Derek with a frown.

Derek gestures to where Erica stands, "Erica's dad was the insurance investigator when his parents were killed in the car crash. A kanima is created by not knowing who you are, and Jackson is a prime example of a kid who feels they need to be the best, living up to the expectations of dead parents."

Erica crosses her arms smugly, and Isaac looks a bit wary, stepping sideways away from her. The beta looks like he wants to head over to pet Malia, but the coyote is giving him a dirty glare so he doesn't try. Stiles sinks one hand into her soft fur and feels the coyote melt into the touch. She's a wild animal, but she's adopted him somewhere along the way.

Stiles has no idea what reason prompted that decision by the errant coyote.

"And," Erica points out, "Did you know that every time my dad sees Jackson drive by in his Porsche, he makes some comment about the huge settlement he'll be getting when he's 18."

Stiles pulls a face at that, "So not only is Jackson rich now, but he's getting even richer at 18? There's something so deeply wrong with that." He shakes his head in disgust.

"So you know it's Jackson," Scott spreads out his arms, "Fine. We'll help you stop him. As part of your pack if need be. If you want me in, fine. I don't speak for Stiles, but Allison and Lydia will help."

"I'll help," Stiles says, "But you need to help me find a way to turn Malia back."

"I don't know any way," Derek shrugs, "Find an anchor. Let it bring you back to humanity. But after eight years…" he shrugs, "She's so far from humanity it's unlikely she'll be able to find a way back."

"That's not a solution," Stiles snaps, "I'm going to help her, okay? With or without your input." His hand has unknowingly tightened in Malia's fur and she growls slightly.

"She's an animal, Stiles," Derek tries to placate him, "She's been an animal for eight years. And even before that she killed her family. She must have. Her eyes are blue and you of all people know what that means, don't you?"

Scott looks between them, because of course - Stiles thinks - Scott doesn't know.

Well now he does.

"What does he mean?" Scott frowns, "Derek? What do blue eyes mean?"

"Blue eyes," Derek grimaces, "Blue eyes mean you've taken the life of an innocent person. You've killed someone, and your eye colour shows it." He glances at Stiles, "That's why Stiles' eyes colour changed after he joined Peter. Kill and join the pack - wasn't that how he worked?"

"I know what colour my eyes are," Stiles snaps, "And I know who I killed. But who did you kill, Derek?"

The three betas are looking nervous and Scott looks frustrated, "Stop it." He snaps, "Stiles are you working with us or not?"

"Yes," Stiles sighs, "Yes, I'll help you." his gaze drifts to the floor, and he has to do this. He can't just turn away and pretend everything is okay. He'll try to pretend that he can somehow make everything better by helping this one girl who currently is pressing her small furry body to his thigh. He'll try to pretend he can't hear Peter mocking Derek's pack of outcasts in his head.

"See?" Scott turns to Derek, "We're on your side. But on one condition." Derek has this 'what now' expression on his face, "We're going to catch him," Scott specifies, "Catch Jackson. Catch him alive and not kill him. We're doing this my way."

---

"That's the boys changing room," Allison stops outside the door, "We can't go in there," she glances about, "Are you sure he's in there? I mean… maybe we should just wait and…"

Lydia rolls her eyes at her friend. Allison's been in the changing rooms before looking for Scott, having conversations with Scott and Stiles and now they're looking for Jackson.

And everyone they asked (Danny) had said he was in here. "Wait out here then," she sighs, shoving open the door and moving inside.

The room is empty, except for the sound of the shower. The door behind her swings open, almost knocking Lydia on the head but she steps aside at the last second, letting Allison follow her inside. "Jackson?" the hunter's girl calls out, "Are you sure he's in here?"

"Yes," Lydia can't lose faith now, so she determinedly sticks her chin up and marches around the corner. It's Jackson there, coughing under the shower. It looks like black clinging to his lips and for a moment Lydia freezes in mixed concern for him and relief at finding him here. Then he turns and Lydia realises his state of undress, "Uh… Allison… wait there…"

"Why?" Allison stops, then realises, "Oh my god, is he naked?" she pulls a face.

"Stop visualising my boyfriend naked!" Lydia snaps, her words tripping off her tongue before she realises it.

"Boyfriend?" Jackson squints at her, sneering as he notes her presence, "I'm not your boyfriend, Lydia. I'm not some toy for you to show off and discard." Violently he slams the shower off, shaking water droplets out of his hair, "What are you going here Lydia? Planning to kidnap me again and lock me up at your lake house?"

"For god's sake, put some clothes on," Lydia crosses her arms and steps back, because it's nothing she hasn't seen before, "We need to talk."

"Fine," Jackson stalks past and Lydia hears Allison's embarrassed squeak as Jackson grabs some shorts from the bench. Lydia moves back so she can keep the pair in view, "Argent. Where's that pretty little boyfriend of yours?"

"Scott's none of your business," Allison snaps defensively, "We're here to talk to you."

"Are you?" Jackson straightens, and steps towards the hunter's girl, threateningly, "What's the matter?" he tilts his head to one side as Allison steps back, "Are you okay? Your heart is beating like crazy."

"Jackson, leave her alone!" Lydia snaps, "You're dangerous. You need to come with us. Please."

"Oh, right," he scoffs, "I turn into a homicidal lizard, isn't that the story you're going with?"

"How did you get out of the boat house last night?" Allison challenges him and Jackson turns back to her, "The chains were snapped. You expect us to believe that's not you?"

Jackson shrugs, "I have nothing to say to you." He spins around, "Either of you. So why don't you…" he gestures at Lydia, "Go back to making sure Stilinski isn't arrested for murdering anyone, and you…" he glances at Allison, "You go back to your little Romeo and Juliet story. You do know it's not going to last. Scott's going to run back to join Derek and his little wolf pack and turn on you, just like before. They killed your aunt. They bit Lydia. Who do you think is going to be next?"

"Shut up," Allison snaps, "Stiles hasn't killed anyone. And we have a plan. A plan that involves stopping you from murdering anyone!"

"Jackson, stop this!" Lydia snaps, and Jackson turns so he stands between Allison and Lydia, "Stop this right now. Just listen to us. Listen to me. Please," and she hopes that will work, hopes to god that maybe she can get through to him (she got through to him once after all) but there is nothing there.

Just a sneer and a laugh, "Why would I listen to a stupid bitch like you? Because you're in love? And everything is just going to work out and we're going to get back together and be happy? If that's what you believe then you're already dead."

"Right after you," Allison's voice is like hard steel, and Lydia has no idea where Allison has pulled the weapon from, but she is holding her crossbow out, arrow loaded and pointed at Jackson, "Lydia, get out of the way."

Lydia moves, not wanting to be anywhere near the aim of that arrow.

Jackson looks mildly surprised, "Are you going to shoot me? Did daddy teach you how to defend yourself?"

"No." Allison shakes her head, "He's been teaching me how to protect others."

"Oh yeah?" And Lydia doesn't think Jackson is going to do it, she doesn't think he's stupid enough… but then he moves forwards, lurching towards Allison and the teenager does what she has to and pulls the trigger.

One arm shoots out and catches it, and there are scales rippling along his arm even though Jackson doesn't appear to be aware of it and the bolt is caught, enclosed in Jackson's hand. He clenches his fist, then winces, dropping the arrow.

The arrow head had dug into his palm and drawn blood, and for a moment it looks red and normal, but then a tear of black drips into it. "Ow…" Jackson looks dazed, "What… what the hell?" he blinks at Lydia and then at Allison, "What are you doing in here? This is the boys changing room!"

"Come on," Allison moves, grabbing Lydia's hand. Lydia doesn't fight, but she knows she should. Jackson doesn't know what he's doing. He's like Scott on one of his earlier full moons; he's in a fugue state of not even knowing what is happening. He is blinking at her, and she wonders if this softer, slightly confused and scared Jackson knows what is happening. She wonders if this Jackson still loves her. "Let's go," Allison tugs her gently, and Lydia turns, letting her friend pull her out of the room and away from Jackson.

---

"I am not looking after your pet coyote," Erica sneers at him as Stiles pulls his jeep up outside the hospital.

"Would you just consider keeping an eye on her?" he snaps, frustrated, and glancing at where Malia is crouched warily in the foot well of the backseat. She doesn't appear to mind the car ride that much, but neither does she want to leave Stiles alone. "Can you stay here?" he asks her, "And I know you can understand me, so you have to listen. Got it? Stay." He points his finger downwards.

She curls his lips a little in a manner which suggests if she could talk she'd be complaining that 'I'm not a dog'.

"I'm going to come in with you," Erica decides, cracking open the car door.

"Fine," Stiles gives up arguing with the feisty blonde, "Stay," he tells Malia again, and the coyote huffs, then curls up and goes to sleep.

He locks his jeep, and prays that she'll be okay, then follows behind the marching blonde. "Why are we here again?" she asks, casually.

"Why am I here?" Stiles steps past, deciding he might as well be leading them. Erica pouts but he ignores her, "There was another murder last night. I want to check the body." The beta wrinkles her nose, "To see if it's the same," he elaborates, "And to get details. Juicy, juicy details."

"You're disgusting." Erica announces, looking even more put off by him when he somehow manages to locate the morgue within two minutes of them entering the hospital.

Stiles just grins at her charmingly, holding the door open and gesturing her in, with glances up and down the corridor to make sure nobody has spotted them. "Obviously that appeals to you," he says, following her in. He gags a little at the smell of dead bodies, but they're all cold and frozen, so it's not as bad as it could be.

"Which one is it?" Erica bends down, blonde locks falling in her face as she examines the names on each of the doors.

"Depends if they're finished with the autopsy yet," Stiles hums, and out of morbid curiosity more than anything he opens one of the drawer doors, peering inside.

Peter Hale's burnt corpse lies there: still, eyes closed, but as Stiles stares they blink open, flaring red.

He slams the door closed. Erica is giving him a funny look. "Well it's not that one," he tells her, then spots the bodies on the table, "There." He points.

She turns, and draws back one of the sheets, "You know," she drawls, "When I used to picture my first date with you I never envisioned any dead bodies involved." Stiles throws a pair of gloves at her, and she catches them, glaring at him. "This is disgusting."

"Hey," Stiles shrugs, pulling on his own gloves, "You wanted to come." The nitrile gloves are cold, and they stick to the damp patches of sweat between his fingers. He winces, and he kind of wants to be sick, but he ignores that feeling, reaching out and touching the cold body.

Whoever said that dead people looked like they were sleeping obviously hasn't seen a dead person. There's an unnatural stillness that just screams wrong, and Stiles finds himself looking for the faint rise and fall of the chest, but there is nothing. The body is silent and still and very, very, dead.

"That's definitely the kanima," Erica remarks, as she points out the nick to the back of the neck. "Yeah," she says, and Stiles rolls the body over revealing the long claw marks down the back, "Definitely."

Stiles drops the body of the man back down to the table. "Sean Long," he reads the name tag attached the foot, "That's the one victim."

"And Jessica Bartlett," Erica has already moved to the next body, a table over. "Uh… Stiles. Slight problem."

He tugs the sheet over the man's still, cold face and steps towards the blonde beta, "What?" he asks. Erica is peering at the label, "What is it?"

The wolf drops the label, glancing up at him, "Reported to have died from asphyxiation." She steps towards the head and tilts to one side, "There's no claw marks. Nothing. She wasn't killed by the kanima."

"Then maybe…" His gloved fingers trace the smooth skin on the back of the victim's neck, "Maybe instead of being killed by the kanima, she was killed by the person controlling it. The bestiary says the kanima only goes after murderers. She… she was pregnant, right?" he can smell it on the body, but has no idea how to describe the scent.

Erica nods, flipping through a clipboard with paper on it, "So she gives birth to the baby and afterwards, she's smothered to death by the other killer." She rocks back on her heels, "When I asked for the bite," her voice is shaky, "I didn't expect it to be like this."

"Yeah, well that's your choice," Stiles shoves the sheet back over the lifeless corpse, "We all have to live with them." He tugs the uncomfortable gloves off and pulls out his phone, composing a text to Scott.

"What did you do?" Erica demands, suddenly, "What did you do that isolated you from everyone? Why did you spend weeks not talking to Scott or the others?"

Stiles laughs, and it taste bitter in his throat, "You mean Derek didn't tell you?" he asks, "He didn't tell you about his uncle? I mean… Derek wasn't always the alpha. It used to be Talia," he lists out, "Derek's mother. But then she burnt to death in a house fire along with the rest of the family. Then it was Laura, Derek's sister. But she was killed and ripped in half by Derek's comatose uncle, Peter. So then it was Peter."

"He's the one who bit you and Scott, right?" Erica is insistent, pressing for answers and she rounds the table, peeling off her gloves and stepping towards Stiles.

"And then it was Derek," Stiles finishes, turning away, shoving his phone back into his pocket, "And we need to go," his head is tilted to one side, "Someone's coming."

Erica looks frustrated, but she bins her gloves, Stiles following suit. He moves with quick steps towards the door, about to reach out when the handle turns by itself and the door opens, and Stiles freezes, finding himself staring straight into the face of Chris Argent.

---

"Where's Boyd?"

"He's getting supplies," Isaac drawls as he saunters into the animal clinic, "The full moon is coming. And Derek has these lovely chains and head gear for us." Isaac is snarky now he's found his confidence from one of those scarves wrapped around his neck. "He said he was going to teach us to change, but there hasn't been time." The beta looks obnoxiously towards where his alpha is sullen by his side.

"I thought control would have been one of the first things you taught them," Scott frowns, looking at Derek.

The alpha looks uncomfortable, "With the Argents and the kanima around we've been too busy."

"I still say we should forget about the kanima," Isaac sighs. "Let the hunters deal with it and keep them both busy."

"We. Can't!" Derek snaps, rounding on his beta, "There's something about the way Gerard looked at it. He wasn't afraid - at all. I don't know what he knows or what he's planning. But I'm sure about one thing. We have to find it first."

"It's also killing people," Scott looks grim, "And it's Jackson. We can't just let them kill Jackson. Allison and Lydia said Jackson was at school today, but not himself. They didn't want to confront him because when they did he almost shifted. They left right after. We need to help him. He doesn't even know what he's doing!"

"And how is the cryptic ass vet meant to help?" Isaac leans around Derek to where Deaton is lingering the background, "Uh… no offense."

"None taken," Deaton remarks, perfectly calmly and he gestures them in, leading them to his main operations room, a metal table in the middle. "I happen to have a bit of experience in this sort of thing."

"You've faced a kanima before?" Isaac narrows his eyes, "I thought you were a veterinarian?"

"I am," Deaton nods, gaze scanning over bottles that he's pulled out of nowhere and placed on the table, "And no, I've never faced a kanima, so I don't have anything that will help to defend you again a paralytic toxin."

"We could go offensive," Isaac suggests brightly, and Scott has to resist the urge to punch the beta, "Would that work?"

"Unfortunately, no." Derek grunts, "I nearly took its head off and Argent emptied an entire clip into it but the thing just climbed right back up."

"Has it shown any weaknesses?" Deaton leans forwards with a frown, considering the facts.

"It can't swim," Derek frowns, "At least, I don't think it can. When we were at the pool it wouldn't go anywhere near the water. It went for Lydia instead."

"But that doesn't make sense," Scott frowns, "Jackson is the captain of the swim team. Is this like… when he could be paralyzed by the venom? That he's essentially two different people? Jackson… and the kanima…"

"And the kanima isn't as much of a person," Deaton inputs some cryptic advise, "But a puppet. Who you're really trying to catch is the puppeteer. The master. If you catch him then the kanima's strings will most likely be broken."

"But what if someone just picks them right back up again?" Derek looks frustrated, "What if it doesn't do anything?"

"It's worth a try!" Scott argues, distracted suddenly when his phone beeps, "It's Stiles," he says, "The couple that were murdered - only one was murdered by the kanima. The other was suffocated, assumedly by the person controlling the kanima." He puts his phone back in his pocket. "That's good, isn't it?" he looks up at everyone, "It means Jackson couldn't kill her. She was pregnant, and his own mother died pregnant. It means there is still some Jackson in the kanima, we just need to find it."

"Hold on. If they're bonded, and the master's fear of water is being projected on the kanima, then what if it goes both ways?"

"So what if something that affects the kanima, affects the master, even though he may be human?" Derek frowns, considering the idea and seemingly finding no fault.

"What does that mean?" Isaac hasn't quite got it.

"It means we can catch them," Scott says, triumphantly, "Both of them."

---

"Chris," Stiles plasters a smile on his face even as he steps back into the morgue, almost walking into Erica, "How nice to meet you here. What a coincidence, huh?"

"Stiles." Chris sounds unimpressed, but he looks surprised to see him there. He steps forwards, closing the door behind him. The hunter's gaze sweeps over Erica standing behind Stiles, but he makes no effort to go for his gun, "What are you doing here?"

"Just poking our noses into places we're not welcome," Stiles shrugs, "You know. The usual." He laughs and tries to edge around to the door, but Chris moves in front of him. "We really need to go…" Stiles tries a different tactic, "So if you don't mind…"

"I take it you've seen the bodies," Chris says, "Do you know what killed them?"

"Bodies?" Stiles wrinkles his nose, "I'd rather not see them, I'm slightly squeamish, I mean… usually I'm okay but seeing a dead person might just make me hurl my dinner and I'd rather I didn't…"

"Stiles," Erica says calmly, "Shut up."

"Shutting up."

Chris glances between them with something that looks almost like amusement. "Don't think I haven't noticed how you didn't answer my question. Do you know what killed them?"

Erica shakes her head and Stiles is about to come up with another reply when Chris begins speaking again.

Without even waiting for their lies, he starts talking, "It's a shapeshifter," he steps around the pair and goes straight for the one body - Sean - and once again pulls back the sheet. Stiles turns away, genuinely hating having to see the dead guy. Again. "A rare form that South American legends refer to as a kanima."

"But this girl," and Chris goes straight for the other sheet, "She was strangled. Smothered to death. Do you know what that means?"

"That the pair were into some really kinky stuff?" Stiles says, before he can stop himself. Erica glares sideways at him.

"There are two killers," Chris seems to be giving them a lecture.

Or rather, not a lecture.

An interrogation.

"If the two of you, know anything," Chris' voice is like ice, "Then maybe we can stop it. Maybe we can stop it before another newborn daughter is deprived of her parents."

"Well I'm sorry," Erica says, "We don't know any more than you." Stiles can hear the lie, but Chris can't. "Derek's looking," the beta shrugs, "But we're lacking in knowledge."

"What you know…" Chris looks angry, "That makes you responsible. It makes you responsible for this." He gestures at the dead couple.

Stiles laughs, "Nu-uh," he shakes his head, "I know what I'm responsible and this?" he waves his hands around, "This isn't it." He glances up at the hunter, not even the slightest bit scared. Chris can't do anything. Stiles' dad knows too much for now for anything bad to happen to Stiles and the Sheriff not know who to blame. Gerard - Gerard is a loose cannon - but Chris, Chris sticks to the code like glue. Chris isn't the threat.

Chris is angry though, standing and stepping towards him, frustration in every muscle, "You're responsible for the hunter at the police station," he accuses, "Aren't you? You are the only one…"

"That attack," another voice interjects, "Was labelled as an animal attack," and Stiles whirls around, taking in his dad, standing framed in the doorway, "And that's how it's going to stay."

Chris stops moving, "Sheriff," he says, curtly.

"Argent." Stiles' dad glances from Erica to Stiles and then back to the hunter, "I don't recall you having permission to be in here. In fact," he steps back, "None of you have permission to be in here. Stiles and… Erica, isn't it? Out. You too, Argent. I'll have words with you later."

Stiles slips out, Erica right behind him, "You know," she says, trying to look dismissive as she examines her nails, "Your dad is kind of badass," she says, as she watches Chris Argent slink away, the Sheriff glaring daggers at his back.

"Yeah," Stiles says, feeling just a little bit proud, "He kind of is."

The Sheriff turns, and Stiles braces himself for the questions about the morgue, the hunter Stiles killed, Erica… but instead the man just sighs and looks really confused, "So…" He begins, "Do you want to try and explain to me why there is a coyote taking residence in your jeep?"

---

Her door opens without warning and Allison pauses in the essay she is writing, finally getting a chance to catch up on school work. Most of it is probably due in tomorrow or knowing her luck, yesterday, but she hasn't checked. "If you don't trust me enough to let me have a lock on my door, the least you can do is knock," she glances over her shoulder, spotting her mother framed in her doorway. She turns back to her work, letting her hair fall down as a barricade between them, so her mom can't see her expression.

"Allison," Victoria's voice is stern. She's always been stern, but she's always loved her too, Allison knows that. Behind the sharp edges and tight mask, there is a person there.

Maybe that is why she made such good friends with Lydia so quickly.

"What?" she looks up from her work, "Is there something else you don't want me doing? Someone else you don't want me to talk to?"

"I am going to ask you something." Her mother steps to the side so she can see her clearly, "And I want you to answer me honestly." Allison gestures her to go on, trying not to think of how her heart is racing. "Are you still seeing Scott McCall?"

Her breath catches and she forces out a weak laugh, "No." it sounds too fake so she repeats herself, "Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"You've been distracted," Victoria busies herself with dusting a shelf, lifting up the ornaments and wiping a cloth over it, "And when you're distracted, you make mistakes," her mother seems tense, "You're always been spending a lot of time with the Stilinski boy at school."

"I have to," Allison says, "We've been partnered together for history." She avoids her mother's gaze, "And I haven't been talking to Scott. I promise you. You… you saw us in biology the other day. He sits the other side of the classroom from me."

And with that Victoria seems to relax slightly, "Okay," she says, "I know it's hard, but I want you to know that I'm very proud of you. But just…" she perches on the desk and one hand finds Allison's. She looks up at the sharp face, glittering blue eyes with emotion churning in them, barely buried, "Just think of how strong it makes you," her mother whispers, "You're so much better than all those other girls, worrying about who is going to take them to senior prom."

Allison tilts her head to one side, "Can't I be strong, and go to prom?"

"Of course," Victoria smiles, "But not with Scott McCall. And preferably not with the odd one - Stilinski, either."

"Stiles is hung up on Lydia," Allison laughs as if that lie makes things any better. If there had been the chance of anything happening between the pair, that had long since burnt up.

Victoria nods, lips twitching in what might be called a smile, "Thank you," she nods. "I… Scott's mother popped in to visit me. She thought you two might still be together but…" she shakes her head, "I know you're better than that." Allison's stomach rolls with guilt, as her mother stands, heading towards her door, "And as long as it stays this way," Victoria says on her way out, "Then we don't have to kill a sixteen year old boy."

It sounds almost like a threat, but in Allison's family, she thinks words like that are almost the norm.

---

"Deaton's meeting us after school," Scott is telling Stiles, and it's odd, having his friend sitting beside him in the locker room again after weeks of no Stiles, "He's got something to trap the kanima and the person controlling him."

"Hey," Allison shoves her way in and bounces across the locker room to them, straight past an almost naked Danny who clutches his shirt to him in surprise, looking alarmed. Allison doesn't even notice, stopping next to the two boys, "Do you have tickets?" she waves one around, "Matt got me one."

"How did he find them?" Scott squints, "I was there last night and they sold up before either he or I managed to get some."

"So you don't have tickets?" Stiles' voice rises in pitch slightly, "Scott!" he almost whines.

Allison shrugs, hugging her scarf to her, "He said he got them online."

"Okay, that…" Stiles stands, looking between Allison and Scott, "That is creepy. I don't like him. Does anybody else not like him?" he chews on his lip for a moment, "I'm not counting you," he says idly, and Scott frowns, because Stiles is talking to neither him nor Allison in that moment, "Hey!" Stiles says suddenly, before Scott can query who Stiles is talking to, "Maybe it's Matt. The whole thing comes back to the video, right?"

"But he found the missing tape in the first place," Allison rolls her eyes.

"Exactly," Stiles waves a hand around, "He's trying to throw suspicion off himself!"

Scott and Allison stare at him, "And he would go after a hunter, Isaac's dad, a mechanic and married couple… why…?"

"I… I'm still working on that." Stiles shrugs, "Currently my only theory is that he's evil because he's got that squinty little glare and the stalkery thing with the camera going on and…" he stops suddenly, staring at Allison, "I swear he's always around you," he says, "Like… even when he's not talking to you, he's down the corridor from you or something. Are you sure you're okay to go with him?" Stiles seems almost concerned.

Allison laughs it off, "I can look after myself," she shoves Stiles in the shoulder gently, and Scott wonders when the pair grew so close, "And as long as Scott is okay with me going with him…"

"Of course," Scott nods, "It's… it's good… to be seen with other people."

"She could go with me." Stiles suggests with a shrug.

"Okay, let me rephrase that," Allison leans forwards, "People who aren't werewolves." Her voice drops in volume, "Okay?"

Stiles rolls his eyes, "That still doesn't solve our problem. We have no tickets because someone…" he turns to Scott, "Couldn't get them."

"You three!" Coach barks out suddenly and Allison jumps, whirling around, "Argent. This is the boys locker room. Please… stop reminding me why I drink… every… night." He sighs, "Have any of you three love birds seen Jackson?"

"Nope," Allison shrugs.

"Sorry Coach," Stiles looks lost, "I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him."

"And when was that?" Coach frowns.

"Last time I saw him was definitely the time I saw him last."

There is a pause. "Okay," Coach turns away, "Danny, I want you to monitor those three in case they try anything. The only thing I want McCall to be putting it in is the goal, do you understand?"

Poor Danny looks traumatised, and Isaac who is sidling past looks amused. "You three really need to find a better meeting place," he says. "I heard you two needed tickets," he gestures at Stiles and Scott.

"Actually I'm a fan of breaking and entering…" Stiles sneers, "Please don't tell me you and Erica have tickets already?"

Isaac looks smug and Stiles just gapes. Scott shakes his head, "Don't fight, you two." He sighs, because Stiles and Isaac are too alike for their own good. Scott's afraid to leave them alone because they're either going to murder each other, or they'll end up robbing a bank. It's easier to insert himself between them. "Nobody's selling," he tells Isaac, "Not anymore."

Isaac rolls his eyes, "How do you even survive?" he spins around; "Wait here, boys. And girl." He strolls off towards a bunch of seniors. Allison spins away from him, not looking over her shoulder.

"I'm pretending I didn't see that," she says, as the sounds of the fight drift towards them, "Any of that," she adds, as there is another punch and a whine, then the sound of someone getting the breath knocked out of them, "Isn't that technically an abuse of your power?" she glares at Scott as if he should be doing something.

"He's Derek's beta," Stiles says, petulantly. "And he's obviously a fan of beating people up. Do you know that most bullies were bullied or abused themselves?" It's a horrible thing to say while Isaac is right there, heading towards them, now with two tickets.

"For that, I'm considering ripping this one up," Isaac gives one to Scott but holds the second one out of the reach of Stiles.

"You can consider it," Stiles shrugs, "But I wouldn't actually do it if I were you. Might prove to be painful, later," he rocks back on his heels, and it's just for a moment, but Scott is aware of Stiles' eyes flashing blue. Isaac glares, then hands over the ticket, "See?" Stiles looks smug, "I'm more of a fan of creative threats and intimidation."

"Just be careful," Allison warns, "My family are getting suspicious. It's a miracle my dad hasn't dragged me down to the basement yet to try and find out what I know." She winces, "It's not as bad as it sounds," she says, weakly, "But they're planning something. I just don't know what."

"Don't worry." Scott reassures her, "We'll be careful."

Stiles snorts, "We always are, aren't we?"

---

"Ketamine?" Scott asks later, leaning on the metal table of the vet clinic, with Lydia, Allison and his boss standing around him. "You mean like the stuff we used against Stiles?" He looks uncomfortable, so Lydia picks up the syringe, examining it. She wonders if this will be enough, and considers asking for more.

Deaton looks calm and unbothered by Scott's scepticism. "It should be enough to subdue him, and to buy you some time. You just need to get close enough to Jackson." Scott still looks uneasy.

"Don't worry," Allison shrugs, "Erica and Isaac are handling that. What do you need me and Lydia for?"

"This." Deaton drops a container on the metal table, "This is from the mountain ash tree. In many cultures it is believed to protect against the supernatural. My clinic is lines with ashwood, which makes it difficult for a creature with the aim of causing harm to enter."

"That's why Peter couldn't," Scott realises, and Lydia has no idea what he's referring to but obviously Deaton does, because he nods. "Peter tried to come in here but he couldn't cross the mountain ash line."

"All it needs to work is belief. And then you'll trap anything supernatural inside." And the guy really needs to work on the clarity of his answers. That make no sense.

"So we make a ring of it and wish really, really hard?" Lydia picks up the bottle and eyes it sceptically, trying to make sense of it. "Is this magic fairy dust really going to do the trick?" It's not scientific. It's not even vaguely mathematical.

But then again, neither are werewolves.

"It's not just the dust," Deaton says, "It's the intent. The belief. Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder, until a spark ignites it. This?" he snatches the bottle from Lydia, "It's just ash, treated and finely powdered, but just ash. Scott could probably even pick it up. But the moment you ignite it, the moment you pour your belief into it… well… there's no limit to what you can do."

"Well I hope this works a bit better than gun powder," Lydia sniffs, "I don't fancy setting myself on fire."

"It's like shooting," Allison tries to puzzle it out, "I mean… I'm a great shooter, but most of my shots now, only half of it is about aiming. The rest… the rest is believing and knowing I can do it. I imagine the arrow going into the target."

"Exactly," Deaton says, "You need to believe you will succeed, because otherwise, you will fail."

Deaton holds out the jar and this time Lydia takes it, tilting her head to one side as she considers the dust again. "Well I guess I can try," she shrugs, because at this stage it's all she can do.

"Try not," Allison tells her gently, "Do. Or do not. There is no try." Lydia blinks, because that's actually pretty good advice. Allison stares at her, then grins, "That's a Star Wards quote. Did you not… did nobody get it?" her grin falls, "I'll tell Stiles later. He'd appreciate it," she grumbles. "And then when this is over," she leans back, "We're making the pair of you watch Star Wars."

"If this is over," Scott says, grimly.

"It will be," Allison's tone is dark, "It has to be."

---

"Okay, so tell me all that again. But this time try to make it sound like reality and not a fairy tale."

Stiles sighs, rocking back on the couch. He's had to resort to using a chess board with labelled pieces, all the hunters in purple, the wolves in orange, he's found a red piece of paper for Derek and Peter, and then yellow for the rest. Gerard, Chris, Victoria and Kate sit the one side of the board, and there is a lone purple knight floating on the other side, where Stiles, Scott, Lydia and Jackson lie. The other wolves are spread somewhere in between, unless it's Peter in which case he's been thrown off the board entirely.

"I really don't appreciate that you know," said person muses, "And why the bishop, Stiles, really?"

Malia's on there too in orange, a castle. She's also sitting right next to him on a towel, because the Sheriff won't have her sitting on the couch and shedding fur that one of them will have to clean up. Stiles glances at her and the coyote just blinks.

"I don't know what to believe," the Sheriff sighs, "I'd say that a girl can't be a coyote, but then no normal coyote would just sit there… like that…" he gestures at Malia, "Is she going to be like that forever?"

"I don't know," Stiles shrugs, "I don't even know if she wants to be turned back but she… she's sort of adopted me. Which is why…" he makes a grab for the piece that is Jackson (a pawn, appropriately) and then the other rook which is just labelled as 'master'. "We've made a plan to capture them."

"Both? The kanima and whoever is controlling it."

"Yeah." Stiles nods, as if he can't see any fault in this. "Why?" he asks, suddenly, "Have you got more information? Any leads?" he peers around their living room as if his dad had once again stolen work and brought it home with him.

"No," the Sheriff frowns, "I am not sharing confidential police work with a teenager." Stiles pulls a face and opens his mouth, about to launch into an argument, "But there is something," he sighs, and Stiles stops, because his dad is going to tell him anyway. "You know what I always say. One's an incident… two's coincidence…"

"Three's a pattern," Stiles stops stroking the coyote, leaning forwards, "You found something linking them."

"Yeah," his dad nods, "The mechanic, the husband and the wife are all the same age. All 24."

Stiles frowns, "But Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near 24."

"Which is why I didn't pick up on it," the Sheriff shrugs, "I thought they weren't connected at all until I found out that Isaac Lahey had an older brother named Camden. He died in combat but, if he was still alive today, guess how old he'd be?"

"Twenty-four." Stiles frowns, "So same age… same class?" he glances up and his dad is nodding. "Did you think of that?"

"I… I mean… yeah," his dad scoffs, "I would have. Eventually."

"Yeah, well you… you look into that," Stiles glances at his watch, and the coyote curled next to him picks up on his unease, whining slightly.

"What are you going to do about her?" John nods towards Malia.

Stiles looks wide-eyed for a moment, "Oh yeah," he hums, "About that… Well I was hoping you'd keep an eye on her here. This is your night off, right?"

"It won't be if I get called out to this rave when another person gets murdered."

"They won't," Stiles says, emphatically, "We've got a plan. Scott… okay, Isaac… hooked us up with tickets this morning. And everyone is going to be there, I just need you to keep an eye on Malia."

The Sheriff sighs, "Looks like it's just you and me, then," he says to the coyote, "You interested in eating my veggie burger?"

Said coyote lets out a bark, but John has no idea if it means yes or no.

---

Allison leans back as Lydia pulls up her car outside the building that looks like nothing more than a block of concrete. If it wasn't for the flashing lights in the windows high up she'd doubt she had come to the right place. When she opens the car door, muted music drifts over her head.

"Are you meeting Matt here?" Lydia asks, but doesn't wait for an answer, stalking around to the trunk and opening it. She pulls a face at the bags of mountain ash in there, but obediently lugs one out.

"Here," Allison steps forwards, "I'll help you get this down. I don't need to meet with Matt for a little while, okay?" she picks up the end of the bag and Lydia unwinds the tie from her end. She angles it downwards, allowing a little trickle of black powder to reach the floor.

"Start walking," Lydia instructs, and Allison steps backwards, checking to make sure she's not walking into anything. Lydia controls the flow and Allison bears the weight of the powder. It's heavy, but it gets lighter and lighter as it runs out.

She glances at Lydia, her friend frowning in concentration, "Will it be enough?" she asks.

"It will have to be," Lydia says, decisively. "Woah! Hey!" she protests suddenly when Allison drops her end of the bag. Lydia crouches, glancing up at where Allison has frozen, "What the hell?" Lydia snaps.

Allison swallows, because she knows that car that has just pulled up. "It's my dad," she whispers, "Oh my god, what is my dad doing here? Does he know? Oh my god…"

"Don't panic," Lydia tries to calm her down, but it isn't working. "Allison. Stay calm."

"I… I can't. I've got to help the others. I've got to…" she darts away, leaving Lydia crouched there over several metres of ash lining the building.

"Allison! Allison!"

She has to warn the others.

She doesn't look back.

---

Derek's not expecting the hunters.

And that's when it all starts to go wrong.

He's not expecting the hunters - he and Boyd are meant to be looking for the kanima master while the others deal with Jackson. But instead they haven't even made it into the rave when the sound of the hunter's jeeps are audible, and then Derek has a new problem.

"Are you sure?" Boyd asks, as Derek changes directions to intersect with the Argent's path.

He nods, "We need to give the others time." He says and then steps out where the hunters can see him. Boyd follows. Stupid. Derek almost wishes he'd sent the stoic loyal beta off to find the others. To warn them.

Chris is collecting his rifle from his car, but he spots Derek almost as soon as the alpha has stepped out of the shadows. "Derek," he says, his tone warning the werewolf not to try anything, "Back off."

"Back off?" Derek scoffs, "That - that's really all you've got? I got to be honest, Chris. I was really expecting more from the… uh… big, bad, veteran werewolf hunter." It feels good to wind him up. To mock him. To be the one with the plan and the back-up, even if his back-up are currently going through with the plan and he's the one going off schedule.

"Okay," Chris sighs, then in one swift movement pulls the rifle out of the car trunk, swinging it around, "How about 'didn't anyone ever tell you not to bring claws to a gunfight'?"

"That one sounded pretty good."

Derek glares at Boyd. So much for loyal support.

---

"Allison!" the voice snaps her out of her frantic panic. She stops trying to fight her way through the sea of people, letting herself be buffeted along, her panic still rising but she squashes it down, trying to appear calm when she finally turns with a smile towards Matt.

"Hey!" she says, "I had trouble finding you… it's just so busy in here!" she laughs, waving a hand around, "I thought you said this was a party?"

It's not a party. It's a rave. The music is so loud it's making her teeth ache, and the lights are flashing while the dance floor is just a sweaty mass of moving people. On any other night Allison would like to let go, to join in and dance and have fun like a normal teenage girl.

But she can't tonight.

Matt looks a bit sheepish as he appears suddenly from the mass of people, "So a little more than a party," he shrugs, "But you're having fun, right?"

She nods, letting her body rock weakly in time with the music, "Yeah," she nods, "Great."

"It's better now that you're here," he smiles, and on anybody else that would be sweet, but there is just something about Matt… maybe she's been spending too much time with Stiles lately, but there is something about him that makes her skin itch.

And - oh god - she thinks. Lydia is right. He likes her. He likes her a lot and no matter what Allison has about letting herself be seen with other people to stop her mother getting suspicious, she can't do this. She's not ready for another big relationship. At the moment it's either Scott or nobody.

"Hey, do you want to move closer to the DJ?" Matt seems to sense the awkwardness in the air. "Or can I get you a drink?" he waves his plastic cup around, and what sort of person has Allison become that her mind immediately flies to the idea of 'can I trust him to buy me a drink and not put something in it?'

"No," she shakes her head, "No, actually I said I was meeting some people here. I just want to find them, if that's okay?"

And for a moment something flashes across his eyes, but then he's laughing. "Yeah, sure. Can I come with?"

"Oh no, that's really… not… no, I'll be right back," she shrugs, backing off already through the crowd.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes." She nods, "Everything's fine, I just need to… I've just got to… I've got to go. Actually I see Scott now… I… Scott!" she turns and shoves between two dancers, one of whom protests violently, and the other turns out to be Danny who sees her looking desperate, spots a heartbroken Matt over her shoulder and then wordless points to a dim corner.

"Scott and Stiles are over there." He tells her.

She shoots him a grateful smile and darts away, "Scott!" she calls out, "Stiles!"

Stiles is first to spot her, and he looks like he's being tortured, except Allison has seen what he looks like when he's being tortured, and in comparison now he just looks very irritated. He's wearing his noise dampening headphones, but he still hears her coming. "You doing okay?" he asks, but Allison thinks she should really be asking him that.

"No. Where's Scott?"

Scott appears right behind Stiles, leaning over his friend's shoulder. Stiles leans away uncomfortably, but Scott ignores that, "What's wrong?"

She loves how he can tell something is wrong with her instantly, the way he is instantly in tune with her mood, her wavering panic.

"My dad," she blurts out, "He's here. They're here for Jackson."

---

"What?" Scott snaps out immediately and Stiles' head is pounding with music but the exclamation still sounds loud because it is right in his ear. Stiles moves away, turning so he can see both Scott and Allison, "How do they know?" Scott demands.

"I didn't tell them!" Allison hisses, running a frantic hand through her hair, "I swear I didn't tell them!"

"I didn't…" Scott looks torn, because he'd jumped to conclusions. He doesn't know the hunters, doesn't know how ruthless they can be.

Scott honestly doesn't think their old Principal just decided to retire, does he?

"Hunters have their ways," Stiles points out, trying to defend Allison. Because it's true. They stole the bestiary from Gerard after all, the hunters probably know all about the kanima by now.

"They'll ruin the plan!" Scott looks like he's working himself into a frenzy of worry. "They'll ruin everything! Do they know it's Jackson?"

Allison shrugs, "I don't know! They know someone is going to die. Here. Now. Soon. We have to do something!"

"You've done enough!" Scott's frustrated now, and Stiles bites his lip, because neither of his friends are acting in the best way right now. He steps in, before one of them says something they'll regret.

"The plan will still work," he says, "Scott, listen. Isaac and Erica are out there right now. I'll keep an eye on them. Okay? It will work." Scott glances at him, and Stiles swallows, trying to think of words to reassure his friend, "Do you trust me?" he asks, weakly, and his heart skips a beat as he waits for a response.

Scott doesn't answer. Stiles thinks that is almost better but it still hurts. His best friend turns to Allison, "I'm going to check on Derek and Boyd. Maybe try to keep the hunters away." He glances at Stiles, "You get Jackson." Stiles nods.

"What about me?" Allison demands, "Scott…" Scott makes to move away, but she grabs onto his arm, "Scott, what do you want me to do?"

Scott looks like everything is slipping out of his control, "Stay out of the way," he says, and then slips out of her grip leaving Allison staring slack-jawed after him.

"How's Lydia?" Stiles asks her.

She looks lost, but nods, "She's okay, she started the line going. But then I saw my dad and I just panicked. I swear I didn't tell them, you have to believe me…"

"Hey," Stiles grabs onto one of her flailing hands, "For what it's worth, I believe you. Now either come and help me and the betas drag Jackson out of here, or go check Scott doesn't get himself killed."

She nods, looking happy to have something to do. "Good luck," she whispers, then vanishes into the crowd of bodies. Stiles takes a moment to slow his heart down, then turns, just as Isaac and Erica lurch out of the masses, Jackson draped over their shoulders.

Stiles smells blood, "What happened?"

"Bastard put up a fight," Isaac grits his teeth, "But don't worry. I got him, right in the neck."

"Well?" Erica hisses, "Are you going to just stand there or are you going to help us? Stop smirking like an asshole and help us, asshole."

Stiles rolls his eyes and steps forwards to grab Jackson's feet, dragging him away while the betas hold him, under his arms. "I still say we just kill him," he mumbles under his breath, "Might save us the trouble of carrying his unconscious body everywhere."

"Yeah," Isaac grunts, "But then we'd be carrying his dead body. And do you really want to be caught with Jackson's dead body while his dad is the best attorney in Beacon Hills?"

Stiles blanches, but it could be worse. He could have been caught with blood on his claws, yet he's evaded that thus far. There will be a time though when he shows up at one crime scene too many.

And as the three of them slip out to the room they set up, Stiles thinks they've managed again to get away unseen.

They've caught Jackson.

Now they just need to catch the master.

---

The ash runs out.

And Lydia stops and stares, turning to look at the line because she's got almost five metres left to go, and she wouldn't be in this situation if Allison hadn't dropped the bag and run off on her.

The dust she has left clings to her sweaty palm. She stands there, feeling like an idiot and not knowing what to do. She was meant to have enough. Deaton had given her two full bags and she had spent the afternoon lugging it around in the back of her car.

It had to work.

There are howls in the distance and the sound of gunshots. She closes her eyes, because that is very, very bad news.

There is another howl which is cut off by a sudden gunshot. She winces, because she's standing there doing nothing. She has to… she can't just do nothing.

Sick of feeling useless and frustrated she drops the last of the ash clutched in her hand, brushing her hand off.

And it drifts.

That's the only way to describe it. She'd liken it later to little iron filings being drawn to a magnet, because that's what happens. The ash drifts down and spreads out, forming a neat little line connecting the point where she stands to the end of the line.

She stares.

"You have no idea what you're capable of," someone says, and the voice echoes in her head as she steps backwards slowly, taking everything in, the fully complete ash line, the club that she just protected and…

"Lydia," someone calls and this time it's not in her head. "Lydia." The tone is almost sing-song.

…and she turns.

And everything fades.

---

Scott slips out of the building, the sounds dying almost immediately. He slips away through the shadows, mind racing. He needs to check Derek and Boyd are okay, and then he needs to check Lydia and he needs to be in too many places at the same time.

'Do you trust me?' Stiles had asked, and Scott really wishes he did just so that he could maybe worry a little less. But he'll have to check that they don't end up killing Jackson, he needs to find the kanima master…

A hand catches him on the shoulder and Scott stiffens as Gerard steps out of the shadows. "You should watch where you're going," the old hunter smiles thinly.

Scott tenses, feeling cold, "What are you doing here?" he hisses, "It wasn't supposed to happen like this!"

Gerard just laughs, "You think I'm not aware of that? But you've been helpful, Scott, and we need to use what we know to discover the unknowns. Life is more predictable when you know all the facts…"

"I told you everything!" Scott hisses, "About Jackson! About Derek's pack. I even joined up, just like you asked. Hell, I even told you about Stiles!"

And how, just how could Scott trust him best friend when there was no way Stiles should trust him?

Not now.

Scott feels like the biggest hypocrite, but he's not quite got to the stage of killing people. Somehow that thought doesn't make him feel any better.

"Just leave it to us," Gerard says, calmly, "We'll sort it out. You get back to your friends and make sure they haven't been killed by their own idiocy." He leans back, and Scott shifts, just as something drops to the ground.

Scott scoops it up, "Here," he says sullenly, "You dropped this."

Gerard takes it, "Go," he emphases, and Scott leaves, heart racing.

Gerard didn't notice. He didn't even…

He keeps his head down and slips off, feeling Gerard's gaze on his back.

---

Around the corner Allison is standing ice-still, her hand pressed over her mouth. The bricks press into her uncomfortably, but it doesn't change anything. It doesn't change what she just heard.

She slips away before her grandfather - no, Gerard, he's not family to her - appears around and sees her there, eavesdropping. She heads for the room the wolves were supposed to take Jackson too, because she can't process this now. She can't think…. She can't…

Erica jumps when she pushes through the door and she freezes, hands up, "It's just me!" she says, heart still racing.

"Where's Scott?" Isaac asks from beyond Erica. Stiles is pacing a little ways over in front of Jackson.

"I couldn't find him," her heart is racing so fast she knows they can't hear the lie. They can't hear the panic and Stiles shoots her a weird look, but makes no comment on the scent of fear and betrayal pouring off her.

Because there is an insidious little voice in her mind asking 'did Scott tell the hunters? Was he the reason her dad and grandfather were here tonight? Was Scott the reason the whole plan was going to fail, and then he had the audacity to blame it on her?'

Stiles makes a face as he pulls his headphones off his ears. His hair is sweat ruffled and spikier than usual. "You okay?" he asks her, "Your heart is racing."

"Yeah," she nods and steels herself, slipping into a different mind zone, a different focus point. She stalks forwards to stand beside where Stiles is crouched in front of Jackson, "Is he out?"

"Yeah," Isaac steps forwards to stand the other side of her, "You could poke him with a stick and all he'd do is…" Jackson lurches, head tilting and eyes flashing open.

They all leap back in surprise, but there is no more movement.

"For the love of god," Stiles is breathing heavily and he failed to stand, instead sprawling awkwardly along the floor in startled bewilderment, "Don't say shit like that."

"I thought the ketamine was meant to knock him out?" Erica says, anxiously, "Why's he moving around? Is that normal?" a sneer works its way into her voice but it's one of fear.

"I don't know," Stiles shrugs, "Scott never got the chance to ketamine me." Isaac and Erica frown at him and he shrugs, "What?"

Allison steps closer again, "Well we've got Jackson. Now we just need to get whoever is controlling him."

"I'm here."

Jackson's mouth opens, but it's not his voice that comes out.

It is, but it isn't. It's his voice but there is another voice on top, overlaid, deep and distorted and it sounds familiar, but Allison can't place it. She frowns, just as it speaks again, using the knocked out Jackson as a mouth piece. "I'm right here with you."

He's like an empty puppet, Allison thinks, hands over her mouth as she steps backwards in shock.

Stiles on the other hand steps forwards, "Jackson?" he queries, "Is that you?"

"Us," the voice echoes from Jackson's mouth, "We're all here."

"Are you the one killing people?"

"We are the one killing murderers."

Stiles snorts. "So what, you think that makes it justified? Let me tell you something, dude, killing people, no matter what you think…" the wolf's face twists, "Is never justified." He finishes, sadly, and Allison meets his gaze for a moment.

The kanima's face twists, scales beginning to flash up Jackson's neck, "They deserved it."

Allison shakes her head, "One of them was a mother. A new mother with a one day old baby. That child is never going to know her parents now because of you. Tell me what did that small family do to deserve death?" she pauses, and the eyes slide over to her. For a moment they are Jackson's blue, and then he blinks and they are a sick coloured yellow, "We've got a book that tells us you can only go after murderers," she steps forwards, standing shoulder to shoulder with Stiles. Erica and Isaac lurk in the background, "So tell us - who did they kill?"

"Me."

---

Scott ducks around the building, and he can't see Lydia anywhere but there is a fine trail of black dust that he doesn't go anywhere near. He can hear the sound of howls and guns and he heads towards that when there is a screech and a car swerves into view.

He squints, trying to see who it is but the headlights blind him. He covers his eyes, peering at the car, waiting for it to slow down.

It doesn't.

It keeps going straight forwards and by the time it occurs to Scott to move out of the way it's already crashed straight into him.

---

"What?" Isaac steps forwards from where he had been lurking at the back of the room, "No offense, but you don't look very dead to me."

Stiles laughs, "That's still… not a very good excuse," he looks like he's trying not to flinch from the scales creeping their way onto Jackson's skin. "They killed you! So? I've heard better reasons for murder. Hell, I've used better reasons myself and there are better ways than using poor old Jackson to kill off anyone who has pissed you off. So what are you going to do, huh, if you don't have Jackson anymore?"

Jackson's neck tilts to one side yellow eyes dilating.

"Stiles," Allison's voice is tempered, "What are you suggesting?"

"What's a kanima master…" Stiles says, not looking at her, "If there's no kanima?" and he holds out one hand, claws out. "It wouldn't exactly be the first time I've had to use these," he shrugs, casually, and Allison relaxes, shooting Erica a cautious glance to get the other girl to stay back. Because Stiles isn't going to kill Jackson. At the moment he's just threatening to. "You know…" Stiles' tone is almost conversational, "I once helped a psychopath kill people," he shrugs, "I kind of enjoyed it too. Do you know that I was ripped out my chemistry teacher's throat? To be fair he was a rubbish chemistry teacher and I was half brainwashed, half blackmailed and half convinced I was doing the right thing, but I still enjoyed it. So is that why you're killing people? Is that why…?"

"You know why I do this." The voice sneers, "They need to die. Harris' death was no loss and neither is theirs."

Stiles glances sideways, frowning. He meets Allison's gaze and she nods, because she's understood too. The murderer know who Stiles' chemistry teacher is.

That means it's one of their classmates. Someone who's gone to Beacon Hills, known Adrian Harris.

And that?

That's narrowed the list of potential kanima master suspects right down.

"I think we should give him more ketamine," Erica is shoving Isaac in the shoulder, as Jackson's one hand begins to creep up. Stiles stands, grabbing Allison and pulling her back, "Isaac?" Erica asks again.

He holds up an empty bottle, "There… uh… isn't any more."

"You used the whole thing?" Allison whispers, "Okay, new plan. Get out." And as if on cue, the kanima snarls.

Erica gets the door and they pour out, Stiles over-stepping by about a metre before he turns and flails back, practically leaning on Isaac to get the door shut. For a werewolf he's surprisingly clumsy. Allison leaves the werewolves to hold the door, looking about for something to hold it closed…

The wall shatters to her right and she screams slightly, hand going for the knife in her belt, but the kanima is fast. He darts out and vanishes into the night, and Allison turns back to see the others, still pressed to the door and faces pale.

"Well that plan didn't work," she pulls a face.

"No shit."

---

Scott wakes up, lying on a table. He's dazed, still trying to get his bearings when Victoria Argent steps into view. Her face is sharp, her eyes cold as she stares down at him. "Good," she says, tone stiff, "You're awake." She places something on the table next to him. "You won't be much longer."

He cranes his neck, blinking at the device. He's not sure what it is, but as he stares Victoria reaches over and presses down on a button. Something flares to life and a white smoke begins to drift out. The scent is bitter sweet, and it makes Scott's lungs itch.

He's only felt that once before. When he and Stiles pulled out a wolfsbane rope from around Laura Hale's body, Stiles had dropped the rope in his car as if it had burnt him. They had made it half a mile down the road before Stiles had to stop so they could both climb out. Their lungs had itched and they were coughing like mad, their eyes flaring a wolf-yellow.

Both their eyes had been gold back then.

It's wolfsbane, in the smoke. Victoria is talking, telling him about it, but he's not listening.

"What are you doing?" Scott squints, trying to understand, but the wolfsbane infused vapour is already working. It's making him lethargic and slow. He already took a pretty bad tumble from the car. He's dazed enough that she doesn't seem to be threatened by him, leaning over him and smirking.

"Oh, Scott," she croons, and she's not related to Kate by blood, and Scott thinks that both Argent woman are just as dangerous. "Isn't it obvious? I'm killing you." she waves the vapour around, then steps back, probably not wanting to get a whiff of it. It's toxic to wolves, but it's also toxic to humans. Scott knows that hunters have worked out a dosage that doesn't kill humans but will kill a wolf; enough that he's wary of ever eating anything the Argents cook him again.

But Victoria seems wary of getting too close to the poison gas. "It will look like an accident," she says, "Your school files show that you have a pretty severe case of asthma. Nobody will be surprised that you had a sudden attack. And you couldn't get to your inhaler in time." She sighs, "Unfortunate, but accidents do happen. Especially to lone wolves. They never survive on their own."

She steps backwards and Scott reaches out, for the machine, for the wolfsbane infuser, but his reach falls short and all he succeeds in doing is falling off the table with a thump. When he looks up it is to a door closing and he's left alone, lumps cramping up.

She's right, Scott thinks. It's just like an asthma attack.

And what a horrible way to die, choking from a disease you don't even have anymore.

---

"Lydia."

The rooms is empty. Dark. She stands there, and in front of her there is a shape standing in the shadows. He's facing her, but all his features are cast into shadow, distorted. The burns look almost worse that way, the way all his skin has blistered off. His eyes however…

His eyes glitter, whole and mad.

"Why are you here?" her voice wavers, "What do you want with me?"

"Can't you guess?" he shifts, light sliding over his face. He's the Peter she's familiar with, older and more terrible, the burnt wreck his body was the last time she saw him.

There are even four deep claw marks across his neck. Black bile drips down like tears from them and he smiles.

"You're clever, Lydia. Figure it out."

In her fingers is a flower, purple and hooded petals, spread down. "I can't," she tells him, staring down at the flower, "I won't. Why won't you just leave me alone?"

"Because I need you," he steps forwards, "Just as much as you need me." And she looks up. His skin is knitting back together, becoming whole until the skin is just dirt encrusted, pale and flawless, not a burn to be seen. "The full moon in March…" he says suddenly, "Do you know why they call it the Worm Moon? It's because all the worms crawl out of the frozen, frost encrusted earth as it thaws." He smirks, a quick wry twist of his lips, "It kind of feels like a rebirth, doesn't it?"

"That's my birthday," Lydia realises, "The full moon on Wednesday is my birthday." She tilts her head at him, stepping back as he steps forwards.

"Oh, Lydia," he sighs, "I thought we'd gotten past this stage."

"Why should I do anything for you?" she snaps, but in her fingers the flower is still held, tightly as if it's the last line to her sanity.

It might well be.

Peter just laughs, "Because you're Lydia Martin." He says it like that's reason in itself. And in a way it kind of is. Lydia knows what will happen if she does what he wants. She knows it will stop these visions, these hallucinations she's been having ever since she was bitten. It will all go away.

"Why am I immune?" she asks him. It's more demanding, but Peter still laughs at her like she's a little girl asking the grown-ups things she isn't permitted to know. "You knew, didn't you, when you bit me? You know I was immune. You lied to Stiles and told him I'd turn into a wolf. So you know what it means." She isn't asking questions and Peter doesn't give an answer, merely tilts his head in acknowledgment, "Tell me what you know," Lydia states.

Peter just shrugs, "I can do that. It would help if I was a little bit more that a disembodied spirit, but that? That's easy. Is that your only demand?"

She swallows. It's a benefit, for sure. Along with not seeing Peter everywhere she turns, she'll get answers. But still she hesitates.

And the wolf is impatient, "We can always do this the hard way," he sighs, "Nobody has to get hurt," he sighs, glancing down at the floor. Lydia follows his gaze, spotting the ash line trail past her.

At her feet it is broken. She's stepped on it, knocked it aside, and it's split, right down the middle.

And she's suddenly terrified. Because she has no idea if that was her, and she had broken it without realising it, or if it was Peter, and can Peter control her? He can already get into her head, make her see things. That? That terrifies her, because what if he can control her too, against her will?

She wonders vaguely if this is how Stiles felt. If this is what he felt when he looked at his hands afterwards and saw the blood?

And god, wouldn't this just spite him? She feels a cruel vindictive sense of pleasure that if she does this - she and Stiles - they'd be even. Stiles broke her trust once and let Peter bite her. Now she could do the same and bring Peter back to the living.

Peter smiles as if he knows what she's thinking.

"Fine," she decides, because the choices here are really only illusions anyway. "Tell me what I need to do."

---

Victoria slips along the building, satisfied that she's finally done. She's done with that dratted animal dating her daughter; be it secret pining or real meetings, it doesn't matter.

He's dealt with. He's gone. Allison has no distractions and can focus. On her school work, on becoming the best huntress ever and eventually Allison will lead her family to victory.

"Excuse me?" someone calls out, tone polite. There is a British tilt to his voice and it makes her pause, turning around and plastering on a smile towards the man strolling towards her. He walks in the shadow of the building, and she can barely make out his slight form, broad shoulders and dark glasses.

"Can I help you?" she asks, raising her chin up. The man smiles, lips curling.

"Yes," he says, "I think you can. You see I was looking for the new Alpha."

She steps backwards, going for the small gun she always carries at the small of her back, but the man moves faster. He knocks her hand away, and his eyes bleed a deep, blood red as he grabs her throat, lifting her effortlessly. She kicks out, uselessly.

"You smell like wolfsbane," he tuts, "Been trying to catch lone wolves unaware, have we? Now, now… you really don't want to be doing that." And her eyes widen as his grip tightens, and one her flailing arms goes for the knife in her heel…

He drops her, and she barely has time to try and move than something sharp sinks into her shoulder and she cries out, despite all her training. The man with red eyes steps backwards, and - god - it feels like he took a chunk out of her shoulder. Blood dribbles down his mouth as he smiles.

"There," he says, "Now the hunters and the wolves know we're here."

---

"Where is he?"

Stiles, Allison, Isaac and Erica burst out of the club, looking around wildly, but there is no sign of Jackson anywhere.

"Dammit!" Allison looks in near hysterics, "This is all my fault. My family…" her face twists and she shakes her head suddenly. Violently. "No," she says, "No, I didn't tell them. This isn't… where the hell is Scott…?"

Stiles can't identify the look in her eye, but then Derek and Boyd are limping up. "Are you okay?" Erica steps forwards, "We heard gunshots…" the beta freezes suddenly, glancing down at the line of mountain ash around the building.

Derek looks frantic, "What happened? We only just lost the hunters but… where's Scott? Where's Jackson?" he stares down at the line, and there is something in his gaze that just makes Stiles' stomach sink. He steps forwards towards the alpha, and reaches out one hand.

There's nothing. Stiles doesn't know what he was expecting, but there is no resistance and he steps over it, as easily as if it wasn't even there. "I thought Lydia…"

"She was…" Allison finishes, "Something went wrong." And Stiles and the other wolves follow her gaze to where there is a scuffed mark through the ash.

It didn't work, Stiles thinks, and Isaac and Erica are exchanging a terrified glance. Because it didn't work but now the person controlling the kanima knows who they are. He knows they're out to get him. He knows they're coming.

Good, Stiles thinks. He's going to rip that bastard's throat out himself.

"Come on," Allison grabs at Stiles' sleeve, "We need to get out of here, we need to…" she is cut off by a pain filled howl.

Derek's head lifts, and he takes several seconds to contemplate the noise, to recognise it. "That's Scott." He says, "Something's wrong…" and he makes to step over the broken line. Allison and Stiles however aren't there anymore. At the first note of the howl, they had exchanged a single glance, because they knew instantly who it was.

Wolves howl to signal their location to the rest of the pack.

Stiles tries not to think too much what it means about him, Scott and Allison, but just bolts away, the hunter's girl on his heels. He rounds the building, heading towards a little office or something, built onto the outside. The door is closed, but there is gas seeping out from the gap underneath. Stiles reaches the door, flinching back at the wolfsbane, but then Allison is there, hammering on the metal.

"Scott!" she shouts, "Scott!"

Stiles holds his breath as he throws his full weight at the door, twisting the door handle. It snaps clean off and he tumbles through, just in time for acid to meet his lungs.

It's not acid. But the wolfsbane in the air feels that way as he rolls, coughing violently. "Get Scott," he chokes out, Allison slipping over him to where their friend lies limply, barely stirring as she reaches him.

Stiles' eyes are streaming from the poison in the air, and he staggers upright, almost falling. He has no idea where Scott even found the strength to howl, because he can't even walk straight, and he trips over his own feet, falling outside and sucking in clean air.

Allison appears moments later, half dragging Scott. His friend is so, so still that for a terrible moment, Stiles thinks he's too late.

He drags himself upright, "Put him down here." He tells her, voice scratchy and hoarse. He leans over, and he can hear a pulse, weak but present. "Scott! Scott!"

Allison is the one to pinch Scott's nose and lean forwards, breathing clean air into the wolf's lungs. Stiles kneels on the cold concrete, waiting for his friend's eyes to flicker open. "Scott!" Allison calls out, "Scott, wake up!"

"Come on…" Stiles begs, "You don't get to do this. You can't just leave me…" there is a sob in his voice, because nothing has gone right tonight. Nothing. Their plan, for once sound, had fallen to little tiny pieces, "Scott! Come on you bastard!" there is a snarl to his words.

"We'll get him to Deaton's!" Derek appears, sans betas, "Get him to my car."

The alpha moves forwards to help, just as with a shuddering breath Scott's eyes fly open. He reaches out, hands clawing at Allison's sleeve.

"Scott? Scott!" Allison looks so relieved for a second, "Oh thank god… are you… are you okay? What happened?"

Scott's voice is weak and his eyelids flutter down, "Your…" he coughs before he can get the words out.

"What?" Allison looks confused and Stiles stares at her, then down at Scott, "Who did this?" she asks again, clearly, "Who did this to you?"

And this time when Scott speaks, it is clearly audible. "Your mom," his voice sounds like its grating over rock, "Your mom did."

"No," Allison recoils backwards, away from Scott. Derek looks torn, and Stiles gapes. "No, you're wrong…" it looks like Allison has just been punched in the face, the expression she wears is one of pure shock and hurt, "You're lying… my mom… she wouldn't…"

"I'm sorry," Scott's eyes flicker closed weakly.

"Help me get him to Deaton's," Derek lifts one of Scott's arms over his shoulder, "Stiles, Allison…"

Allison is still looking distraught, standing now and backing away, "No," she shakes her head, "I can't… I have to… what am I meant to do?" she pleads, but Stiles doesn't know the answer. Scott blinks open his eyes, weakly, and it looks like that small action is a giant struggle. He stares at them, and he looks just as lost.

"Are either of you going to help?" Derek demands.

"I can't," Allison says, "I need to… need to go… my family… but I don't… I don't have a car… Lydia…"

"I'll drive you," Stiles volunteers, "I don't know where Lydia's gone…"

"Fine," Derek growls out, "Go. I'll get Scott to Deaton's. Don't get kill by the Argents," he snarls at Stiles, straightening with a weak Scott hanging onto Derek's shoulder.

"Allison," Scott stares, looking so fragile in that moment, "I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," Allison's face is streaked with tears, and she turns away. Stiles glances at Scott at Derek.

"Will you be okay?" he asks, more of Derek, but Scott answers.

He is still staring after Allison looking heartbroken, "Look after her," he whispers. Stiles nods, turning and following after the huntress.