Hey guys! Here is a brand new chapter to get us trucking :)

Chapter 34

The first week of school went by quickly. Cross Country practice was easy, especially when Finstock was yelling at Stiles. Melanie came in second during practices with Danny after the long run. Scott and Isaac came in first. Finstock, as usual, expressed his greatest pride and deepest regrets and agonies about the team. Melanie rolled her eyes and ignored him while sucking down ¾ of her water bottle. She didn't even want to join this stupid team to begin with.

Allison and Melanie didn't talk so much though they shared History with Scott. So, there was still awkwardness. She'd watch Melanie, glance at her when she thought nobody saw to see if Melanie would make her move on Isaac.

All in all, Melanie wasn't sure she'd ever make that move. Every time she thought about it, she shivered, petrified. It wasn't a common thought, that she'd have somebody who wanted forever with her. In fact, she expected to be alone for the rest of her life because of how she lived her life, always on the run and intense danger.

She hadn't gone to see Derek yet either. Every day at the end of the school day, she contemplated going to see him and going home and jumping back into the fray that was this town but she didn't.

"There's a party tonight," Lydia said, standing by her table in the library.

"So?" Melanie said, scanning over the passage in her book.

"So…you going?"

"Nope," Melanie replied.

"Why not?"

Melanie scoffed. Ginger actually sounded sad.

"I don't feel like it," she replied.

"Come on," Lydia said.

"Lydia," Melanie said her name with slight annoyance and ferocity, "you should hate me. Allison is your best friend and it's my fault she and Isaac split. Unless you are attempting to plot my murder, why do you want me there?"

"She doesn't hate you. She just wishes she was you," Lydia said after a few quiet moments.

Lydia stood and made her way out of the library then paused and turned. Her eyes narrowed into a glare.

"I am plotting your death…always," Lydia said, quirking her eyebrow.

Melanie chuckled to herself, closing the chosen novel for the semester, Lord of the Flies.

Stiles stood in the doorway, watching Melanie as she typed on his laptop.

"I'm not going," Melanie told him for the fourth time.

"Is it him? Are you worried about that," he asked, careful not to say his name.

"Stiles, jump out of that subject or I will punch you in the face," she said. He shuddered not from the words but from how calm and collected and sure she sounded about it.

And she's back to her old self, he thought with a sigh.

Melanie was worried about that. School was the bridge that kept them apart and she was glad. This party would take that bridge away and she wasn't so sure she could handle herself. It was better to not find out, just for right now. Her heart thumped harder at picturing what the party would look like, how she would fit or not fit. She paused, the clicking of the keys halting.

"Just go. Have fun," she said.

Stiles nodded and left, but then suddenly popped his head back into the room making her jump.

"Don't mess with anything," he said. "Anything."

"Got it dumbass," she smarted off.

The sheriff was at the station for the night. He'd grown lenient little by little which was why Stiles could go to the party. That, and Stiles had told him that he'd sneak out anyway.

It was almost an hour later when she received a call. Scott. She was eating leftover Chinese when her phone started singing Perfect by Marianas Trench. She let the ringtone finish. The song was her favorite.

"Hello," she answered her mouth full of noodles.

"Melanie, I need your help. Deaton is gone," Scott said in a hurried breath.

"What," Melanie said confused. His loud breathing made it hard for her to make out what he said.

"Deaton, he's been taken by the darach," Scott exclaimed.

Melanie shot up in her seat, setting the box aside.

"I'm on my way," she said and hung up.

She slipped on her studded combat boots and rushed down the stairs and out the door. Scott pulled up as she came out and she got in the car. He sped off as she closed the door. Derek was in the back.

"How do you know," Melanie asked first.

"He called right beforehand," Scott replied.

Scott played the voicemail, trying to cease and desist his shaking. He blinked rapidly as he watched the road. Melanie's eyebrows furrowed. In the background there was a fluttering sound. It was so soft that she wasn't even sure she was hearing it.

"You hear that?" she asked.

"Moths," Derek replied.

The voicemail ended with a click. Twenty-four hours was all they had, but to Melanie, she only needed twelve. No sleep for the wicked tonight. They went to the vet clinic first. Exam room two was a mess. The windows were shattered. Papers were scattered all over floor. Animals whined and cowered in the back room.

"He's a philosopher," Derek said.

"And a healer," Scott said. "It can go either way."

Scott enlightened Melanie about his summer, how there had been a massive storm. The whole town was out of power for five days. Two doctors had died mysteriously. Moths had been found at the site of their deaths. They were sacrifices, but looked like murders/accidents to the public.

"We're going to get him back," Melanie said to Scott, seeing the panic on his face only increase.

He only managed a nod with a deep sigh. The deep lines in his forehead didn't soften. Melanie and Derek didn't say much to one another let alone meet each others' gaze. Instantly, their whole relationship seemed to be gone, like they'd only just met and weren't even acquaintances. This feeling kept going for hours, each hour becoming more and more uncomfortable.

"Will you just say something? I don't care what the hell you say. Just say something," Melanie let out in one long breath, causing the alpha to stop in his tracks. The corners of his lips twitched.

He stared at her, the dark circles under his eyes showing just how exhausted he was. No words came out of his mouth. Not right away. Scott had gone to talk to the others, leaving the two of them at the vet's office. Melanie looked around the room some more if only to keep herself distracted.

"I was scared every day since you ran away. I kept wondering if you were going to come up dead. Every day I wondered," he muttered.

He looked down at Deaton's desk, but wasn't looking really looking at anything.

"I know I should've told you about Isaac. I should've told you about a lot of things, but I couldn't protect you if I did," he continued. She didn't recieve his usual cold hard gaze.

"You don't have to protect me, Derek," she told him fiercely. "I don't know what made you think you have to. You never had to. When Seth was trying to kill me, yes, I needed help. I'd be dead, but you have to know when I can and can't take care of myself."

Derek nodded minimally, the words striking him like whiplash. He still saw this little girl that he shoved to the ground effortlessly sometimes because she was weak and stupid. She'd grown up though. The young woman wasn't normal, but twisted between wolf and human and she handled it as well as could be expected.

"He can protect you."

She froze, her shoulders going rigid. He. Her skin paled and she could feel everything slacken. Him? No.

"No, he can't," she said.

"Mel—"

"I know, Derek," Melanie said. "I know about all of it, but I can't. It's near impossible to conceive right now. I'm stuck in a weird place of wondering if what I feel is real or if it's thrust upon me because of this stupid thing!"

Derek rested his hands on her shoulders tenderly. His eyes met hers and she saw the same old wolf that she'd always known. There was a smile that threatened to come through, but didn't quite.

"It's okay," he told her. "You decide things on your own terms, but you need to understand something. He isn't going to move on. You are it for him and it won't matter if you find somebody other than him to fulfill your life. You are his companion, best friend and ultimately, the one person he will always love. "

"But I broke him," Melanie croaked, tears now running over her cheeks. "I broke him and Allison. What kind of person does that?"

She sucked in a few short breaths, grabbing her chest and leaning forward as if suffering from a heart attack. In a sense, it was a heart attack. The organ beat so hard in her chest from the several different emotions that suddenly ruptured her that she wondered if she'd drop dead right there.

"It wasn't your fault. No one knew this would happen. I'd always thought it was a myth, but it's not." Derek held her, rocking her. Nothing he said was going to help her. She was going to have to accept it or deal with it. Isaac wasn't as lucky. He knew what he knew, and what he knew was that he loved her and he'd kill for her, die for her, live for her.

There was no other purpose for him whether she reciprocated the feelings or not. As a human, she could reject him. Free will gave her that. Should she want to take the bite, she would have to fight with her other half, the wolf. The two would coexist. Deep within though, Derek knew that she cared for him. It had been a suspicion from the moment he asked Isaac to watch over her by moving in after Seth. The two had certain things in common that nobody should have in common, but it was a comfort for them. It allowed them to be close.

"It's time for you to go home," he whispered into her hair then he kissed the top of her head.

He heard her heart skip a beat then pulsate even faster with fear. He took her face in his hands, wiping her tears away with his thumbs and lowered his head so that their eyes were level.

"You're my baby sister and no matter what you say, I will always protect you. Don't think for a second I would put you in harm's way," he said. "Isaac will never hurt you. He can't."

Melanie nodded. That wasn't what she was afraid of. Childish features stretched across her face, taking Derek back to that time before she was fierce and scornful of people.

They continued to search the clinic and eventually went back to the loft where Cora was. Cora glanced at her as if having a question then would look away. She stood in front of a map of Beacon Hills that was tacked up on the wall. The same one that had been on the table. The same places were marked as before along with a few new ones. Beside it was Chris's map, the one he'd been following. Melanie came up beside Cora who stared at it closely.

"What's up," Melanie asked, catching the skeptical look.

"The bank here," Cora said. "Look at the symbol."

A small symbol was beside the small building marking.

"I've seen it somewhere…" she trailed off.

"It's not far from where Deaton was taken," Melanie said. "And look at where the other ones are."

Derek stared at it from behind them.

"You think it means something?"

"I don't know. There is a lot of buildings close by, but look."

Cora pointed to other spots on the map where the sacrifices were found and from where they were taken. Each spot was relatively close to one another. Melanie looked over her shoulder at Derek who pulled his cell phone out and dialed Scott. His steely glare returned instantly, making Melanie smirk amused by how easily he could get annoyed.

"Scott," Derek said into his cell phone. "Check the old bank…yes, exactly…it's a long shot, I know…we have to try…I know, Scott!"

Derek hung up with a huff, his eyes flashing red for a quick moment from the stress. He shook his head of the sudden frustration.

"He and Isaac are going to search the area now. Stiles went to the station to see his Dad," Derek said, gripping his phone tightly.

"Derek," Melanie said, a firmness mixed with worry in her voice. "What's been happening since we've been gone?"

They stared at one another for a few long minutes before he spoke up.

"Scott, he doesn't trust me. When the sheriff wasn't down our throats about you missing, he was. Something is going on. Even Isaac is taking his side."

"It's just as much their fault as it is yours though," Melanie exclaimed, not denying that they were to blame.

Derek said nothing and Cora kept her eyes on the map as if there was still something she was looking for. Melanie knew she was listening though. Her head had tilted a little.

"I'm going to beat both of those idiots. I mean, I knew they were dumb, but really? I can't believe they'd think that," she said, shaking her head.

Melanie paced across the loft angrily with no intention to stop. It had been a long while since she'd been this annoyed. She was going to wring their necks.

"Have you heard from Scott," Sheriff Stilinski asked his son.

"They're going to the old bank," Stiles said as he peered over his Dad's shoulder at the computer.

He reached over to use the keyboard, but his hands were slapped away. His dad gave him a slanted stare. Stiles huffed and tried again, but was slapped away again.

"Dad—"

"No," the sheriff told him firmly, pointing the Dad finger at him.

Stiles's jaw moved sideways with agitation. He gave up and took a few steps backwards and leaned against the nearby desk. The metal creaked grossly. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Now, are you sure about this," the sheriff asked.

"Pretty sure. It makes sense," Stiles replied after a few seconds.

"Alright," sheriff Stilinski got up from his chair and pulled his jacket off the back of his chair.

"I'll come with-"

"No, stay here," the sheriff ordered.

"But Dad—" Stiles tried.

"No, Stiles. I just got you back. I do not want to have to worry about you." Sheriff Stilinski checked his holster then said, "Tara! Make sure my son doesn't leave the station!"

"Yes, sir!" the deputy called.

Stiles's mouth hung open with disbelief, his arms up in frustration.

"I do not need a babysitter."

"Your stint this summer proves otherwise," sheriff Stilinski called back as he left the station.

Tara came back and stopped at the edge of her desk, her arms crossed over her shoulders. Stiles grumbled unhappily, his leg bouncing bac a forth. After a minute or two, Tara left, going back to the front desk. Stiles contemplated going out the back. He knew the codes.

Scott and Isaac entered the bank cautiously. Darkness crept from every corner as if to try and lure them in.

"I don't feel good about this," Isaac mumbled low.

The two remained tense as they went in further. There was no sign of life anywhere.

"Can you smell him?"

"No," Scott said, shaking his head.

They continued back towards the vault area, past the long abandoned bank teller desk. Dust had made a home on its surface. Their footsteps were light and cautious, proceeding into the dark.

The vault door, two feet thick of steel, was open when they reach the back. Held up on a hook, his hands bound together. His feet barely scraped the ground. A few droplets of sweat trickled over his temples.

"Deaton!" Scott exclaimed.

He ran to rescue his mentor, but was stopped quickly by the circle of mountain ash that surrounded him. It rebounded him like reversal of magnetic force that stung.

"I can't get through," Scott said to Deaton as he pressed his hands to the barrier.

Deaton was barely conscious. His eyes were glazed over. Scott looked to Isaac, but there was no hope anywhere on his face.

Scott pressed his hands to the barrier again, hissing as the feeling of a thousand wasps coursed over his palms and up his arms. It pushed against him like arm wrestling. Grunting, he pressed harder at seeing his boss starting to pass out from lack of oxygen. Scott fell to his knees, but kept pushing. The barrier was giving way. He could feel it. Isaac hollered behind him, frightened. Hearing and feeling his friend's strength, Scott kept going. He thought of everyone, drew from them. Stiles's hope, Isaac's heart, Allison's agility, Lydia's mind, Melanie's courage, Danny's loyalty, Ethan and Aiden's strength—all of it.

"Scott?" Isaac took a step back.

Scott's eyes took on a golden glow as he pushed harder through the barrier. Slowly, from around his pupils, a deep redness pierced through the gold, blazing vibrantly.

"Scott?"

Scott pierced through the mountain ash barrier, his chest heaving up and down heavily. From deep down he felt a build getting stronger and stronger and he let out a roar. Isaac cringed a little bit, feeling the urge to respond, but didn't. Scott turned and saw sheriff Stilinski, his gun pulled and at his side. He and Isaac stared at the teenager in awe.

Scott pulled Deaton down from his restraints then cut him from them.

"How…how did you do that," Isaac asked, his eyebrows furrowing with caution.

"I don't know." Scott breathed as he came to stand in from of them.

Isaac took Deaton's other arm and wrapped it around his neck to help hold him up. Sheriff Stilinski pulled out his phone, ready to call Stiles. It rang though right before he even pressed a number.

"Hello," he answered, the pit of his stomach dropping. He couldn't' place it, but he knew something was wrong.

"Dad!" Stiles screamed. "It's here! Tell Scott it's here!"

A few shots rang out and Parrish's voice rang out with a holler before the phone went dead.