Chapter 29: The Reborn

Beacon Hills had a trapshooting range a few miles out from the city limits. It was ran by volunteers from the wildlife association and used by bird hunters and gun enthusiasts. They had been granted some kind of funds from the local government to invest in a few fully automatic clay pigeon throwers that reacted on the shooter's command to send a small orange disc of clay into the air. The thrower was called a trap, stemming from the old practice of using live pigeons and releasing them from a trap whenever the shooter was ready.

"Pull!"

The thrower reacted and sent a single bird, which was another leftover terminology from the old days, flying over the field. Joe followed the trajectory and pulled the trigger. The disc exploded with a rain of orange dust as a reward. The shotgun had some kickback because of its narrow choke and Joe wondered if Derek felt the systematic hits as well as she did.

"Pull!"

Another disc, this one coming at another angle and elevation. Follow, don't stop, shoot — a solid kill, hitting it straight on. She wore large over-the-head ear muffs to protect her hearing. A pair of older men in flannel were practicing in the lane next to her, but took frequent brakes to roll cigarettes and talk amongst themselves.

"Pull!"

Joe caught the next one too, right on. Shotguns were a lot easier than rifles or handguns. You were supposed to point and not aim a shotgun. It was something therapeutic to see the shower of orange dust every time she pulled the trigger too. After last night, she really wanted to shoot something, but would rather not have the police show up if she just tried hitting beer cans in the forest.

"Pull!"

Scott had come home late last night after picking up Stiles from the garage. Instead of getting his Jeep back, Stiles had been a first-hand witness of the mysterious creature taking out the mechanic. As Scott told it, Stiles had been paralyzed as well, but not from a cut to the back of his neck like the Argent-hunter had. It would seem that any contact with the secretion would leave the victim incapacitated.

"Double!"

Two discs now, released a second from each other. Joe took the first one down, waited the split second for the automatic reload, and let her final shot trail the last disc before it too exploded. Joe called over the range officer to confirm her shotgun was empty before putting it back in the stand to let it cool for a second.

She cracked her neck and rolled her shoulder to ease some of the tension. This morning, she had the uncomfortable conversation with Aunt Mel to let her know her contribution to the household budget would be less than usual this month. She needed the money to fix her broken phone and while Aunt Mel was understanding, Joe knew it would mean a tighter grip on the finances. At least Scott got that pay bump and could cover some of his own lacrosse expenses and pitch in for gas every time he borrowed one of the cars.

Joe twirled her finger around in the air, a way of letting the range officer know she was starting a new round of ten shots. Last one, as her academic leave was coming to an end and she had a hefty stack of assignments to grade waiting for her back home. She loaded up the shotgun with four shells in the magazine and one right in the chamber. Four plus one. The range officer signalled for everyone to put their ear muffs back on; the old men kept taking theirs off to talk to each other. Another man entered the last lane to her right, but Joe did not pay him any attention as she brandished the shotgun back up against her slightly sore shoulder. It was the perfect weight; light enough to point, but still heavy enough to avoid the worst recoil.

"Double!"

Joe went straight for two discs at once, both coming from different places over the field. One down. Two down. Both hit right in the center, but the second split in half instead of exploding completely. Without thinking, Joe aimed the shotgun again, shot the left half of the disc, reload, and took the right one too. Orange clay mist rained over her lane after the downright pigeon massacre. She kept it up until her ten rounds were all reduced to fine dust.

The range officer complimented her shooting when checking her weapon and she just shrugged. It'd been years since the last time she used a shotgun like this, it might be beginner's luck. The old men had moved on to drinking coffee in the shed and the last shooter looked to be between rounds, so Joe took off her ear muffs on her way to the car.

"Looks like that shotgun went to the right person."

Joe turned to see Chris Argent smiling at her while reloading his own shotgun in the lane next to hers. She hadn't recognized him because of the ear muffs and sunglasses, the first one hanging around his neck and the latter pushed onto his forehead. He held the barrel of his gun out towards the field as was common practice on the ranges. "Nice shooting."

"Thanks," Joe said and pushed the strap of her shotgun firmly onto her shoulder. "I, uh, had a good day I guess."

"That was more than a good day," Chris said with a wry smile. He put the magazine back in place and switched the safety on. "Your technique is solid. Who taught you how to shoot?"

"My dad."

"Ah, right." Chris nodded and put his sunglasses back in place. "The FBI-agent, of course. You any good with a hand gun?"

"No," Joe answered honestly.

"When was the last time you tried?" Chris asked and she just shrugged. "There's a range up by the interstate. I go there Tuesdays and Thursdays, if you ever want to tag along." He placed his ear muffs back on and Joe followed suit. He shouted over his shoulder while putting the shotgun up. "Not projecting, by the way, just a friendly offer. Pull!"

His shot decimated the clay pigeon. Joe waved at him to say good bye and he gave her a solid nod before calling for another shot. The noise echoed in the range and Joe kept her ear muffs on until she reached her car. Chris Argent's friendliness did not feel forced, he seemed to genuinly like her, but then again, so had Kate. His last name alone was enough to warrant suspicion and she could not see how he had anything to gain by providing her with weapons and target practice. Maybe he just liked seeing girls being able to protect themselves. He was definitely projecting, but Joe wasn't sure if it was Kate or Allison.

It was still early so neither Aunt Mel or Scott was home when she got back to the house. Aunt Mel worked the early shift so she could catch Scott's lacrosse game later that night and Scott was hopefully at school, paying more attention to his classes than he was chasing after that Argents' book of monsters. Joe checked her e-mail to see if there were any responses to her ad. Getting the phone fixed at a store would wreck her finances, so she'd placed a local ad if any amateur tech geniuses could do it for a more reasonable price.

The cheapest and closest offer was from Matt Daehler. Some internet sleuthing revealed him to be a high schooler in Beacon Hills, same year as Scott. He seemed legit and responded instantly when she accepted his offer; they would meet at the game later that night, a nice, safe and public location. He could at least not break it any further, Joe thought and studied the pitiful remains after Stiles slammed it into the floor of the veterinary clinic. She hadn't even bothered picking up the pieces after the old Nokia as Derek's fist reduced it to practically dust.

She needed a working phone. One thing was how she needed it to call for backup whenever she inevitable landed herself in life threatening situations, but it was also the easiest way for Jimmy to contact her if he needed help. Like, say, if he was regularly losing control and killing off people left and right using paralyzing venom and large claws. Stiles had claimed the creature to look reptillian and like it already knew him. Professor Kane had said that some people who were bit turned into something other than a werewolf, maybe gigantic snake monster was on that list? Jimmy's role as a double agent would make him somewhat of a snake anyway.

Oscar Lahey, the Argent-hunter and a mechanic...Joe rubbed her eyes. The killings seemed random, but they did not feel random. It had not gone after Stiles, for example. And none of the kills, maybe with the exception of Isaac's dad, were particularly easy targets.

Downstairs, the front door opened and shut. Aunt Melissa called out: "I'm home!"

"Okay!" Joe shouted back automatically. She had checked the news report on the mechanic's death. It had been ruled an unfortunate accident, as Stiles wasn't exactly forthcoming with the truth. The mechanic died of crushing after the car lift descended upon him while he was lying on the floor. No mention of a toxic report, but Joe was not sure if they regularly performed those as part of an autopsy or if maybe the results weren't in yet. It seemed a far-fetched theory no matter which way you looked at it. A car lift had safety features that made it lower at almost snail pace and if the mechanic hadn't been paralyzed, he would have had plenty of time to get away.

She and Aunt Mel decided to take Joe's car to the match, because it had a miniscully better mileage. It was another cold night in March and they were both bundled up in scarves. Joe would meet Matt by the popcorn booth before the game and let Aunt Mel go find them some seats. Matt Daehler turned out to actually be on the lacrosse team, as he was in full gear with the Beacon Hills' Cyclones' colors. He also had a large camera strapped around his neck.

"Delgado?" he asked when Joe came closer and Joe nodded. Like almost all sixteeen year old boys she'd come across lately, he was maybe an inch taller than her and had clean features with short dark hair on top. "You're Scott's cousin, right? Think I've seen you around. You got the phone?"

"Yup, in its broken glory," Joe said and handed it over. She was sure she had never seen him before ever; it was not like she frequented high school hangouts all that often. As she tried to place him, he turned the phone around to study the cracked screen and asked her some general questions if it would turn on at all and if she ever replaced the battery before. Both answers were no.

Feeling watched, even though she knew that technically was impossible, she glanced up and scanned the crowd on the bleachers. Automatically, her eyes were dragged to the far forest line. If anyone stood just beyond the trees, they'd be invisible from the brightly lit lacrosse field. Unless they had glowing eyes, but she couldn't see any of that.

"Okay, the screen's easy, but there might be something wrong with the processor." Matt was shaking her phone, hearing something rattle inside and Joe's attention pulled back to him. "I think I have one that would fit, but it's a couple of hours work."

Joe grimaced. It sounded like something expensive. "How much?"

"Twenty for the screen, fifty for the processor if I gotta replace it," Matt said and glanced up at her with a half-smile. "We got a deal?"

"Yeah, fine," Joe huffed and saw any clothes shopping for the reunion dinner wave goodbye. "How long's it gonna take?"

A couple of days. He'd send her an e-mail when it was done. Coach Finstock called him away for the pre-match shouting session and Joe, after throwing the dark forest another curious glance, located Aunt Mel sitting on the bleachers, rubbing her hands together to keep them warm. Joe checked her pockets and deduced they could afford two cups of coffee, if Joe relinquished her weekly dose of oatmilk cappucinos.

"Oh, thank you so much," Aunt Mel said as she accepted the paper cup from Joe. She sipped it right away, but hissed. "Hot."

"That's the point," Joe murmured and they fell silent when the match began. Scott was on the field as usual, while Stiles was on the bench. Joe furrowed her brows when she realized he had not even changed into his gear, but sat in a tracksuit with the school colors. Maybe he had doctor's orders to keep from playing after last night events.

No, Joe concluded after watching the kid, he was up to something. Normally spazzy and unable to sit still, he seemed to be on ecstacy or something the way he bounced in his seat and looked around the bleachers every few seconds. She followed his gaze to where he paid most attention and it was of course Gerard and Allison Argent.

Gerard had taken over the role as the high school principal, after the old one disappeared without even a two weeks' notice. Joe was left to wonder yet again on how far the Argents' influence really went. The way Gerard gave Allison his coat and made sure she was fully bundled up made it almost possible to believe his whole doting grandfather-act, but even when he smiled at Allison, it did not reach his eyes. No sign of Allison's parents and Joe was not sure if she should be comforted by that or not.

"Oooh!" the whole crowd simultaneously exclaimed when one of the larger players from the guest team tackled one of Scott's team mates. It was without a doubt the largest high schooler Joe had ever seen and the Coach shouted obscenities while demanding to see the kid's birth certificate.

Aunt Melissa had grabbed Joe's hand and gripped it so hard she was sure even Derek would feel it at this point. It looked bleak for the Beacon Hills-team and would mean they were out of the semi-finals unless something miraculous happened. The Beacon Hills-team was also losing players left and right and the Coach was down to his last reserve.

Except Stiles wasn't even there. Joe scanned the bleachers and caught the edge of his tracksuit sneaking away from the field. Coach Finstock shouted for him, but no one else had apparently seen Stiles leaving. The referee informed the Coach he was down a player and would have to forfeit the match unless he could produce another one. Unacceptable, apparently, as Coach Finstock resorted to scanning the home crowd bleachers until he found a suitable candidate.

"You! You play lacrosse?"

Joe's heart jolted at the sight of Erica and Boyd sitting tightly together at one of the top rows. Coach Finstock wanted Boyd to join the game, and even though Erica looked skeptical, she let Boyd go down to get suited up.

Everyone's attention was on the new player joining the game, so only Joe caught how Erica snuck down from the bleachers and followed the exact same route Stiles had taken. It might or might not have been because Joe had studied the girl from afar, wondering how the hell she managed to look that good even though she was only sixteen. Joe had mentally blocked her own year book photos from high school, in the days before she learned to tame her curls and cover up blemishes.

No way would Erica and Boyd just be casually attending the game. Derek would have to know about Gerard Argent attending the game and he had not given the impression he trusted his newly fledged werewolves out on their own. This meant Derek was here somewhere as well. Closing her eyes, mostly because she felt like an idiot, Joe inhaled deeply through her nose. Not a hint of Derek, so he wasn't here.

"I gotta, uh, pee," Joe said and detached herself from Aunt Melissa's grip. She kept her head down as she darted between the crowd, following in the footsteps of both Erica and Stiles. It led her to the parking lot and there was no sign of any of them. Inhale, sniff. Nope, no Derek either. This was weird in so many ways. Stiles did not have his car back yet and the only destination reachable on foot was the school building. Entering through the front doors, she tried to listen for any sounds to indicate either Stiles' or Erica's location.

Nothing.

Joe was torn between investigating further and running back to her car to retrieve the shotgun. A small whiff of a familiar scent made her pause. It was faint, but present. Derek.

Never in a million years would she have thought she was going to walk through the hallways of a high school being lead by her nose. It was like a game of hot and cold. Whenever she reached an impasse, one of the directions would have a slightly stronger scent than the other. Eventually, Derek's scent was joined by the smell of chlorine and she pushed the doors open to the swimming pool.

Derek stood with a basketball in his hands, a defeated look already in his eyes as he'd probably heard her coming for a while. "Really, Joe?"

"Really, Derek?" Joe retorted instantly and let the doors swing shut behind her. Could only hope he hadn't heard her literally sniff her way here. No Stiles or Erica. "With Gerard Argent right there out on the field? Really?"

He tilted his head. "This doesn't concern you. For the last time, go home."

"Can I just ask you like a practical question?" Joe said, completely ignoring both his words and his irritated growl. "What happens if one of us dies?"

His chest expanded as he sighed. "I don't know."

That was not the answer she'd expected. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean: I - don't - know!" Derek repeated slowly with a raised eyebrow. "I guess it depends."

"On what?"

"If it's a natural death or not," Derek said with an annoyed shrug, his clawed fingers spinning the basketball around in front of his chest. No jacket, Joe noted, he was probably out. "My great-grandma lived on for years after Pop passed away."

Joe could not help her smile. "Pop?"

"Shut up."

"Okay, but," she ignored his frown, "you're saying that if it's a non-natural death, I could die if you do?" She waved her hand loosely in the air. "Because then I'd say it's a pretty big concern for me if you get snuffed by the Argents."

"I'm so glad you care," Derek said in a deadpanned voice. "But since i don't see your shotgun, I'm not sure how you were planning to help?"

Joe was not sure either, but was spared answering when the doors behind her burst open. On some pretty impressive high heeled shoes, Erica waltzed through with Stiles in tow. Literally, as she dragged him there by his neck. At the sight of Joe, she lifted her lip in a slight snarl while Joe only raised her eyebrows in return.

"Stiles," Derek said calmly when Erica let Stiles go to take her place next to Derek.

"Derek," said Stiles while rubbing his skin where Erica probably had dug her claws in. He gave Joe a disturbed look. "Joe?"

"Are you okay?" she asked instead continuing the name round. Pushing his hands away, she saw the intrusions in his skin. "What the hell, Derek?"

"I just need to ask Stiles some questions," Derek said calmly and Joe noticed how his stance had changed when Erica arrived, how he immediately became cockier. She also noticed the admiring gaze Erica had fixed him with and it appeared the events of last night had not done much to repudiate that crush.

Any warmth disappeared from Erica's eyes when she looked at Joe instead. Joe did not need a PhD in human behavior to recognize jealousy when she saw it. She could not blame the girl, Derek was both hot and an authorative figure in Erica's probably chaotic life. The tilted power-dynamics was always a cause for trouble. It was the equivalent of girls falling in love with their History-teacher. Derek, as the adult in lack of better designations, had the responsibility of shutting down her illusions, hopefully before Erica clawed Joe's face off for something that did not even exist. At least Joe hoped they were illusions. As high as Derek's creep factor was, he did not strike her as a cradle robber.

"What did you see at the mechanic's garage?" Derek asked Stiles while he caressed the basketball.

"Uh, several alarming EPA violations that I'm seriously considering reporting." Stiles backed off a few steps when Derek pierced his claws through the basketball's exterior and deflating it with his hands. "Holy God."

"Let's try that again."

"Look at you, bringing out the props and everything," Joe commented while rolling her eyes.

Stiles relented. "All right, the thing was pretty slick looking. Um, skin was dark. Kind of patterned. Uh, I think I actually saw scales. Is that enough?" Stiles shrugged irritably at the pair of werewolves. "Okay, because I've somebody I really need to talk to-"

Derek tilted his head again and Stiles made an impatient sound, at least sounding as disgusted as Joe felt. "Hrr. All right, fine, eyes. Eyes are, um, yellowish. And slitted. Um, has a lot of teeth."

Hang on. Erica and Derek were paying less attention to Stiles and more to something behind Joe and Stiles. They were looking up slowly to the diving platform over Joe and Stiles' head. Joe found herself tilting her head up too, slowly, like a dumb chick in a horror flick.

"Oh. And it's got a tail, too. Are we good? What? Wait, have you seen it? You have this look on your faces like you know exactly what I am talking about."

Erica took a step back and made a soft, scared sound, her widened eyes fixated on something above Joe's head. Joe and Stiles turned at the same time to see the exact creature Stiles had described — it screeched. Not a roar, not a howl, a terrifying screech like a pterodactyl from a low-budget dinosaur's movie.

Stiles grabbed Joe and dragged her away when the creature dropped to where they had just been standing. It placed Derek between them and the creature; Derek crouched down with claws out and let out a challenging roar.

The creature had immense strength as it tossed Erica away like she was nothing and she grunted when she hit the far wall and slid down, completely out.

"Run!" Derek yelled at Joe and Stiles. He turned his back to the creature and Joe hissed at a swiping pain in the back of her neck. Derek tore around in confusion, ready to fight, but the creature had disappeared into the shadows. Joe and Derek both felt the back of their respective necks. Her fingers came back bloodless, so it must have hit-

"Derek, your neck!" Stiles shouted and Joe saw the thin welt of blood in Derek's exposed neck. By how Doctor Deaton explained it to Scott, it used almost surgical precision to infect venom straight into the nervous system in the spine. Maybe Derek's healing factor would fight it before he got knocked out?

"Joe," said Derek and she saw his unfocused eyes and slugghish movements. No such luck then. She and Stiles darted forwards to catch him before he stooped completely, but he shoved her away. "Run. RUN!"

Her legs almost moved on their own accord.

"I got him! GO!" Stiles pushed Derek's arm over his shoulder to keep him up. "Get Scott!"

Joe stumbled backwards, every stupid instinct telling her to go towards Derek instead of away, but the creature screeched again and she dashed out into the hallway before it got her.

Nothing followed her, but she did not slow down until she was back across the parking lot and onto the lacrosse field. She had to get Scott! Even if she had to drag him off the field, she had to get Scott!

Instead of the dispersing crowd at the end of a match, everyone was huddled together on the field. In the midst of it was Scott, being supported by Allison, talking to no other than Gerard. Around him stood both teams and most of the spectators — including Aunt Mel. It would take some serious explaining to do if Joe appeared to drag Scott away now.

Shit! Joe backtracked and ran off the field again. Lungs burning in her chest, she went straight for her car and threw herself across the backseat to snatch up the shotgun. 4+1 shots, her fingers shook as she loaded it. She could not count for a chance to reload, but stuffed more ammo in her pockets. Sending a short prayer to whatever deity was listening, she went back inside the school.

Would the thing have super hearing like a werewolf? She had to assume it did and tried to keep her breath under control, her chest aching with the effort. Without knowing the school layout, she was forced to take the same route as before and took a moment outside the door to catch her breath. It came out in a shaky huff. No sounds from within, which meant that either it had already killed everyone, or Stiles and Derek got away. Which left Erica, unconscious and unable to defend herself. Shit. She was not getting out of this, huh?

She pushed the door open with the shotgun, trigger finger almost cramping at the effort of not shooting right away. The only light in the room came from the lit pool, in the midst of it she saw Stiles and Derek floating. Their frantic splashing indicated it took some effort. No sign of the creature and Joe crept towards Erica, placing two fingers on her throat to confirm a pulse. Steady, strong, she was just knocked out.

Derek's voice came between desparate breaths of air. "Get me out of here before I drown."

"You're worried about drowning? Did you notice the thing out there with multiple rows of razor sharp teeth?"

"Did you notice I'm paralyzed from the neck down in eight feet of water?"

Ice gripped Joe's insides. Derek was paralyzed, which meant Stiles was the one holding them both up. Derek was a big guy with a lot of muscles, heavy muscles.

Stiles began moving the pair of them towards the edge of the pool. "Okay. I don't see it."

"Wait, wait, wait, stop, stop," Derek admonished and Joe froze herself, scanning the large hall for whatever Derek had noticed. Unfortunately, her gaze landed on Derek who was staring at her with wide and near panicked eyes. "You've gotta-"

His face disappeared under water when Stiles spotted her as well, temporarily losing his grip on Derek's neck. Derek reappeared, sputtering and coughing, and Joe just put a finger to her mouth to keep them from drawing attention to her. The pure rage in Derek's eyes would cause her nightmares down the line, she was sure of it.

"Wake up, Erica," Joe hissed softly under her breath and prodded the unconscious girl. "Put those claws to use, girl, come on, mija."

Erica murmured softly, but her eyes remained shut. Damn it! How long would it take a werewolf to recover from some light trauma to the head?

"Joe!" Stiles' shout echoed in the hall. "My phone, it's there — call Scott!" He nodded his head towards the edge of the pool and she saw the small rectangle laying abandoned on the floor. Unfortunately, his shouting attracted the creature.

Larger than any werewolf, it stalked the opposite side of the pool on all fours. More reptillian than snake-like, it had a long tail that swayed behind it. It must have some sort of stinger, Joe realized, but she was luckily not close enough to tell. It made a hissing noise towards Stiles and Derek and tried to step onto the water. It screeched at the contact and retreated to the wall — it did not like water. Which was the least helpful fact she could think of at the moment, as she was several feet away from the pool.

Slowly, so slowly her muscles ached, Joe got on the floor. She laid on her stomach, shotgun in hand down by her leg, and tried to keep her breaths as steady as possible. The creature hissed and spat against the pair in the pool and trailed along all edges of the pool, obviously looking for a way to get to Stiles and Derek. Animal, she thought, not cognitive. Not like a werewolf, probably, that still had human capacity for planning.

Joe held her breath when it passed her and Erica. There was this strain of goats whose defensive mechanism consisted in playing dead at the first sign of danger. They were called fainting goats and zoologist had spent years trying to figure out why the goats had developed this mechanism. As it turns out, fainting goats only had one real enemy in the animal kingdom: snakes. Snakes have even worse eyesight than humans and can usually only detect movements.

If she stayed still, the creature would remain focused on the struggling pair in the pool. She hoped.

The creature stalked past without even sniffing at her and Joe took another shaky breath. Little by little, inch by inch, she tried to get closer to Stiles' phone. Derek and Stiles were shouting, wasting their breaths at snapping at each other, but Joe did not pay them any attention. The more they distracted from the creature, the better chance she stood.

Slowly, she reminded herself, slowly. Her heart kept beating so hard it pushed painfully at her chest. Lungs straining, but that might be because of Derek struggling to breathe. Damn it, this was the stupidest side-effect she had ever heard of! What was the point of feeling each other's pain, it just made them twice as vulnerable! If either of them got caught, the other would suffer. It made more sense that if one got caught, the other got stronger or something to be able to come to the rescue. It just proved it more how it was all a big, stupid pile of stinking bullshit!

"I don't think I can do this much longer," Stiles shouted and the sheer desparation made it cut through Joe's concentration. She had no idea how long they had been in the pool, how long she had used to get to the phone. Derek was probably 200lbs of pure muscle and Stiles was probably 150lbs of gangly teenager. It was a miracle they had stayed afloat this long. She had to call Scott. Now!

The phone now within arm's reach and she had to clench her arm down when the creature came to their side of the pool again. Her eyes watered as she did not dare to blink. Don't move, don't breathe, don't think — don't do anything.

All five claws on either of the creature's forelegs clicked against the tiles. They passed right by her eyes and she saw how they were almost see-through, probably filled with the paralyzing venom. Sharp teeth, large claws, a venomous tail. Apart from the water, it did not appear to have any weaknesses. Its hide looked thick and scaly and she was not sure the shotgun slugs would be able to penetrate it. If Derek couldn't fight it, what chance did Scott really stand?

Clicking receding, it passed her. Her head swam from the lack of oxygen, but she gradually edged her shotgun-free arm forwards. Finally, her fingers locked around the edges of the phone and she pulled it gently towards her.

Behind her, Erica moaned.

She must have moved as the creature stopped on the other side of the pool, its slitted yellow eyes peering their way. Damn it!

Joe peered back at Erica who was sitting up slowly and clutching her head, unaware of the imminent danger. The creature screeched loudly. Joe snatched the cell phone and managed to press Scott's name before the creature bounded towards them.

The thing went straight for Erica with all its claws out. Behind Joe, the shouting from Stiles and Derek echoed in the pool hall, trying to shout a warning. Not up to speed yet, Erica only managed to press herself to the wall an whimper.

Joe swore internally, dropped the phone and flipped on her back. "Hey!"

She clenched her bladder to avoid pissing herself when the thing focused on her. Shotgun up, she fired. One, two, three shots. The thing was hella fast. It screeched and jumped into the rafters, her shots hitting just inches behind it each time. Breathing fast, she jumped up and ran to Erica, who almost recoiled at her approach.

"Come on, get up, get up!" Joe shouted and hefted the younger girl up. She either had to jump in the pool with her or get her out of here, Erica was not in any condition to fight.

"JOE!"

Derek's roar cut through any of Joe's hyper-focused thoughts. She let go of Erica and tore around with the shotgun already at her shoulder, firing when she had the thing in sight. The pellets tore into the side of the creature and it let out a shrill cry. Blood splattered on the light tiles. It darted away when she fired again, hitting nothing but the poolside bench.

Heart pounding almost through her ears, Joe held the shotgun up and twirled full circle, searching for the creature. A hiss, a flicker of a tail, it seemed to melt into the shadows.

"Go," Joe hissed at Erica, who had crawled up to a hesitant stand again. "Get Scott!"

Erica's eyes darted to the pool instead. Her instincts must be compelling her to help Derek. Even in her weakened state, whatever bond was between an Alpha and his Beta seemed to overpower her survival impulse. Swearing, Joe grabbed Erica's arm to force her to look her in the eyes.

"Erica! Get Scott!" Joe shouted and the girl's eyes widened before she nodded. She turned to run, but only went two steps before the creature dropped down in front of them. Erica stumbled back while Joe pointed the gun at the creature. "Back off!"

It hesitated, stopped. It knew what a gun was. So much for non-cognitive.

The slimy blood down the side of its torso had already stopped running, so she could not have hurt it too bad before. Still, it hesitated. Joe's arms protested, but she kept the barrel steady, aiming at the creature's head. They circled each other as Joe tried to get Erica closer to the exit. It hissed, but recoiled when Joe let her finger hover over the trigger.

"Back - off!"

The creature dropped to a crouch and screeched again. Joe squeezed the trigger, closing her eyes to avoid getting brain spatter in them. The gun clicked. She pulled the trigger again, but nothing happened. 4+1 shots. Three plus one plus one — she was out.

"Shit," was all she had time for before the creature jumped her. By sheer luck, she managed to avoid the first swipe of its claws, but not the second one. It grazed her stomach, ripping through her jacket and t-shirt and skin, leaving hot stings in its wake. Derek shouted behind her. The creature did not hesitate before spinning around and kicking her backwards.

Her foot caught on a pool float and she tumbled back into the water. Brain screaming at her to hold onto the gun, but her fingers were already turning numb. The claws! The venom crashed her system a lot faster than it had Derek, his werewolf-gene probably slowing it down, and Joe realized she was sinking down into the pool. No matter how much she tried to kick her legs, she could not even feel them. She could not feel anything!

The water slipped over her head, muting the shouts from Stiles and Derek.

"Get her!" she thought she heard Derek roar at Stiles before she sank, but it seemed too melodramatic to be real. The chlorinated water burned her eyes and she saw Derek's limp body being held up by Stiles' kicking legs. The shotgun floated down next to her, out of ammo and out of reach.

How long could she hold her breath? How long before her body overrid her mind and forced her to take a breath, even though she knew it would fill her lungs with nothing but water? Blood mixed in with the pool water in a thin red mist from her stomach, but she did not even feel it. No pain.

Ears ringing, lungs screaming. She couldn't take it much longer. Bubbles slipped out her nose, but they became sparse as her system used the little oxygen she had left. She closed her eyes, biting her mouth shut, but it was getting harder and harder and she-

Something crashed into the water and Joe's eyes opened, half-expecting to see the creature's glittering sharp teeth. Instead it was Erica with her blonde hair around her in a halo. She grabbed Joe under her armpits, even though Joe couldn't feel it. Only Joe's functioning balance nerves told her they were going up.

She gasped in a desperate gulp of air when they breached the surface. Her wet curls laid plastered over her face and she tried to shake her head to get them off, her arms still floating uselessly in the water. Nose clogged,

"To be clear," Erica's voice came from right next to her ear, "this doesn't mean I like you."

"You don't even know me!" Joe protested and coughed up more water. She managed to sling her hair away and the disgruntled snarl told her it had hit Erica instead. Well deserved, even if she had just saved Joe's life.

"Your dislike of me is only based on internalized misogyny," Joe gasped again to get more air in, "that have skewed your notion that we can exist as," Joe sputtered when a splash of water hit her face, "mutually empowered individuals because," she coughed, "it upsets the patriarchal hegemony of society!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Erica shrieked in her ear. "I don't like you because of how you treat Derek!"

"That's what I just said!"

"Oh my GOD!" Stiles' shout echoed in the pool hall, overpowering even the screeches of the creature. "Really, guys? You're gonna do this now?" Joe tried to tilt her head to look at him, but her neck was basically limited to just holding her head up. "Erica, I'm gonna go for the phone!"

"No, no, wait!" Derek shouted, but Stiles wasn't listening. He pushed Derek over to Erica before diving under, swimming hard towards the pool edge. Joe's head dipped under water as Erica was forced to make a grab for Derek before he floated down.

"Oh God," Erica grunted and Joe bobbed back up to the surface. From what she could gather from her position, Erica had one arm around Joe's chest and one around Derek. She heard the splashes of Erica kicking her feet to keep all three of them afloat. Werewolf strength or not, it was taking its toll.

Derek coughed up water and the proximity of the sound meant he was probably right behind Joe. Unable to turn her head, Joe's eyes twisted as far as they went in Stiles' direction. He had grabbed the phone less than an inch away from being swiped up by a large clawed hand.

"Hurry!" Erica shouted and Joe's head slipped back under when the girl apparently lost her grip. She sailed down alongside Erica and Derek's bodies. Joe tried to move her arms or legs or anything, but nothing listened. She could not feel anything from her neck down. This meant that she did feel a clawed hand grabbing onto her hair and hoisting her back up.

"Aargh, no hair pulling!" Joe yelled when Erica had her back over the water.

"Oh, sorry, I should just let you drown then?" Erica bit back. "Did you get him?"

The last part was addressed to Stiles who gave his phone a disgusted look. His face said it all. Scott wasn't coming. Derek groaned and the sound drifted away from Joe, presumably as Stiles took over again.

"Can't you fight it?" Joe asked Erica as they contined to bob in the water.

"Not like Scott!" Erica protested, fear laced in her voice. "I've only been a werewolf for like a week! I'm not strong enough!"

"Get Boyd!" Derek's voice sounded far away, but it ran across the large hall. "And Isaac. The three of you together, you can do it."

Erica's breaths came in heavy bursts. "What about her?" Whatever Derek answered was lost as Joe went back under water and when she came back up, Erica protested intensely. "No! I'm not leaving you to drown!"

"Shotgun," Joe coughed and her head bobbed when Erica shifted her grip. "My shotgun. I got ammo in my pocket."

"It's at the bottom of the pool!" Stiles pointed out.

"I can hold my breath long enough for one of you to get it," Joe said and hoped it was true. "If we can weaken it, Erica should be able to take it!" She hoped that part was true too.

"I can't-" Stiles gasped for air. He did not have werewolf strength or stamina and he'd been holding Derek afloat for hours now. "I can't hold both of you."

"Erica can throw me to the floor, it'll cause a distraction." Derek protested through sputters, but Joe ignored him. They were both out of the game, it was all down to Stiles or Erica. "It's our only chance!" Joe shouted, mostly directed at Erica. An Alpha was supposed to make her stronger, right? Stronger than Scott had been when he was newly turned. It could work!

Erica swallowed and said: "Deep breath."

"Erica, wait, no!" Derek roared, but Erica had already dropped Joe and dove for the shotgun. Joe drifted down again as Erica swam next to her. Eight feet down, the shotgun lay glinting at the bottom of the pool. Erica's hand closed around it and she grabbed Joe on her way back up.

"Is it even gonna work?" Erica asked, out of breath and she whipped her hair back.

"Just make sure there's no water in the barrel," Joe gasped. She wanted to rub her eyes, clear her nose, but without working arms it was futile. "Get the ammo, come on!"

Erica grunted with effort of holding both Joe and the shotgun while simultaneously searching Joe for more shotgun shells. "Which pocket? Left or right?"

"Uhh-"

"This one or that?"

"I can't feel which pocket you're in!" Joe screamed and Erica growled while presumably patting Joe down. She eventually produced three more rounds that she put in the shotgun under Joe's directions. "Keep in mind that it's fast, so let the barrel trail it maybe a foot further than you'd normally fire."

"Normally? I've never fired a gun before!" Erica and Joe both went under as the girl tried to get the gun the right way up. "Uah! I need something to hold onto if I'm gonna be able to get you out!"

Joe's view was limited to the glass dome in the ceiling. Water splashed over her face as Erica swam towards the diving platforms.

"Guys, it's coming for you!" Stiles shouted from behind them. The water in Joe's ears kept her from hearing the creature's soft hisses and the clicking of its claws. Joe whispered encouragements to Erica instead whenever she managed to spit all the water out. Plan was simple: throw Joe to the floor, shoot the thing when it's distracted, multiple times if possible, then kick its ass using whatever werewolf-stuff Derek taught her.

Derek yelled at Erica to be careful. Joe coughed up more water, her taste buds saturated with chlorine. "You got this!"

Joe felt Erica's deep breath — they must be close to the edge. "Ready?"

Erica did not wait for an answer. Joe's vision shifted from the ceiling to a blur as she sailed from the pool to the far wall. She only heard her body hitting the tiles with a wet flop, but felt it when her nose crashed into the floor as well. Derek let out a harsh grunt from the pool and blood replaced the chlorine water in Joe's mouth.

She shifted her head to the side and stared straight into multiple rows of razor sharp teeth. Joe could not even scream, but the creature screeched and the force alone made her eyes water.

With a loud snarl, Erica erupted from the pool with the shotgun ready. Her finger squeezed the trigger, multiple times, but no shots. The creature turned its head to peer at the newcomer, tail flicking. Erica squeezed the trigger over and over, now panic in her eyes. "It's not working!"

"The safety!" Joe's voice was muffled from her awkward position. "It's a button behind the trigger!" Joe screamed when the shot rang out above her, Erica apparently figuring out the safety.

The creature howled, hurt and confused with multiple potential victims. Erica pumped the shotgun barrel — even though this was an automatic — and fired again, this time missing completely as the wall clock exploded over Joe's head. The plaster drizzled onto Joe's face and clouded her vision.

Growls, snarls and grunts from Erica; hisses, screeches and bellows from the creature. Panicked shouts from the pool— Stiles could not hold him and Derek up any longer!

All noises ceased half a second before a heavy roar erupted into the room. Joe tried to huff the plaster away from her eyes. It did not sound like Derek, so that left: "Scott?"

The new werewolf, presumably Scott, joined in on the fighting. Joe squeezed all the muscles she could reach, struggling and trying to get movement back into her body. She had no idea if it had any effect. Based on the sounds, the creature was still proving to put up a good fight against two werewolves. Joe used her forehead to twist her body over, but she could not even engage her core so she was stuck in the awkward position on her stomach.

She yelped when another figure flopped down beside her, but it was just Stiles. Soaking wet and gulping for air, he pushed the hair away from her face. "You," he gasped, "okay?"

Joe nodded as much as she could. If he was out of the water, where was Derek? Completely immobilized, only her eyes darted around, seeing nothing.

Stiles flinched and threw himself over her at the sound of a large crash and what must be glass scattered over the floor. The creature screeched and Stiles' breath came in short puffs, as if he was trying to keep as quiet as possible.

"What's happening?" Joe hissed, but never got her answer. More sounds of fighting that ended in another crashing noise of glass shattering, but coming from above. Stiles deflated completely and laid on his back next to Joe, his rib cage expanding with several inches as he tried to catch his breath.

"It's," Stiles began, had to stop for a breath and swallowed, "gone."

This chapter is probably longer than it needs to be. Sorry, not sorry :)

Thank you for the kind comments and messages on the previous chapter. Hope you enjoyed this one as well! Please leave a review to let me know what you think.

Much love and I hope all of you stay safe and healthy!