Chapter 67: Kali

Okay, let's try something else. You either learn — or they die.

Not wearing shoes, the claws on Kali's toenails clicked one after the other on the hard floor. She seemed to smile at Joe's attempt at remaining still; not letting her fear get the best of her; not falling down to a whimpering puddle.

As always, there was a dangerous glint in Kali's eyes as she took up position next to Joe by the far wall of the elevator. The doors finally closed and they headed down.

Taller than Joe by an inch or so, she looked down with the same lingering smile on her lips. Beautiful as she was, there was something in her expression that made people think twice when seeing her for the first time. Calling her beautiful seemed inadequate in fact. Head-turning might be more appropriate. Striking features, medium brown skin, and she usually wore leggings with a cropped shirt, like today. No shoes. Never shoes.

Joe flexed her fists so hard her knuckles were turning numb. Not letting them shake, not here, not in front of her. It made the rest of her tremble instead, a minuscule vibration, like a shaken can of soda ready to burst.

She closed her eyes when Kali let a clawed finger trail Joe's cheek, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. The claw scratched her skin, producing a small stinging welt of blood that immediately closed. The more experienced Alphas knew how to wound without the extra healing-time; knew how to just prove a point.

"You cut your hair." Kali sounded pleased and caressed Joe's cheek again, this time not cutting into her skin. Kali herself had long straight hair, the same dark color as Joe. "It's a good look on you. Practical."

Breathe, just breathe. Don't listen, don't react, don't panic.

"Where have you been hiding lately? We stopped by Derek Hale's place. Thought we'd find you there." Kali finally retracted her hand and Joe tried not to flinch at every single movement. "We did find Derek Hale." She snorted. "Can't say I'm impressed. Takes after his mother."

The words blurred into Joe's mind. Kali had stabbed Derek with a steel pipe. Just the thought, just the memory of that pain, that physical object lodged through Joe's chest... Joe swallowed, hoping to leave more room for air down her system. Her breath trembled too, only entering her lungs in small scared bursts.

Kali continued talking, as if unaware of Joe's condition, as if the fear didn't reek off of Joe. "Duke says he has potential. Says the two of you have potential." She made a small contemplative noise and crossed her arms. "We'll see. I'm guessing you're the reason he's still alive. Did you take some of his pain? His injuries?"

Already feeling tiny beside Kali, Joe wanted to shrink even further. Like Isaac, she tried to hunch her shoulders, disappear into herself, bending her head down. Not here. If she just became small enough, she wouldn't be here at all.

Joe flinched as the clawed hand came back to her cheek and trembled when it went down to her neck.

"If you're not gonna answer me," Kali whispered as she bent towards Joe's face and even in the corner of her eye, Joe could see the red glow from Kali's irises, "there are other ways I can find out."

Feeling of claws in her neck. The sensation of memories muddled and looked at. Just the thought was enough to make Joe duck away from Kali's arm, flinging herself into the corner of the elevator. Muscle memory finally kicked in and Joe reached back to her waistband, to the 9mm, hand closing over the grip.

Kali's face split into a large smile, displaying a lot of straight white teeth. Including a set of canines that lengthened. "Are you gonna shoot me, Sefina?" She must have smelled the gunpowder or something. "Really? I mean, look at you, you can barely stand."

She was right. Joe's body trembled so hard now she had enough just to keep balanced, to remain upright. Pistol still in the waistband, hand still gripping it, but not pulling it out, not aiming, not shooting. Too scared. She'd miss or even if she did hit, it would only slow Kali down. Maybe hurt her, but not enough.

And then she'd retaliate. Joe knew it in her bones, broken over and over by those clawed hands.

Right then, the elevator dinged. They'd reached the ground floor.

With a lingering smile over her shoulder, Kali exited. "Pathetic."

Not even noticing the crowd coming into the elevator, Joe finally let out a breath she'd been holding since she first reached for the gun. She slid to the floor in the corner, careful to conceal the pistol under her shirt again. Breathe, just breathe.

Some of the newcomers — normal people, without a clue of the danger they were in — gave her strange looks, but no one offered her a hand. No one offered her help. Probably looking a little too deranged for that, she thought, and a wild laugh escaped. No help for Joe.

Joe bolted out the next time the door opened. On the third floor, and she headed for the stairs instead of the elevator.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! They weren't gone! They hadn't forgotten her! She'd let herself be tricked into believing it was over, to let her guard down, but they were still here. Still waiting. At the school, with Scott. In the apartment building, with the Argents. They'd been at the loft, with Derek. At the hospital, with Aunt Mel.

Shaking so hard she had trouble breathing, Joe stumbled into the alley behind the building. Her breaths came in with harsh sucking noises, desperate for air, not getting enough. When she rubbed her face, her hands slid over the sweaty skin. It stung her eyes. God, she hated this. She hated this so much.

Couldn't stay. Not here. Not this close. They weren't keeping tabs on her, she realized, they were waiting for her to come crawling back on her own. Apartment still safe? No idea.

In a daze, Joe found she had automatically headed for the loft. Stupid goddamn instincts! Instead of going inside, Joe slumped down next to the front doors of the building. Stupid. She couldn't go inside. Couldn't go to Derek. The look in his eyes, when he asked about Erica, when he realized what she had done...

Joe gritted her teeth together, hoping to keep the noise inside, not letting out a heavy heart-bursting sob. Every inch of her itched to just go upstairs — to him — but she couldn't. They'd kill him. No matter what Deucalion said. They'd make them kill each other.

"Now, this is a welcome change."

Wiping her face again, she looked up at the familiar voice. Peter Hale, dressed in a smart light gray jacket and a pair of jeans, strolled up to her on the otherwise empty street. He smiled that half-smile of his, like he and he alone was in on a joke.

"I mean, you pining over Derek for once," he clarified and sat down on his haunches next to her, leaning against the building like she was. "These past months have been brutal. Derek's been Bella Swan-ing all over town. You know, I threatened to break his phone if he didn't stop checking it."

"Please leave me alone," Joe mumbled, already thinking of the handgun in her waistband. It had been a long day already and it was still light out. Shooting Peter Hale sounded really tempting by now.

"Now, now, why don't you tell Uncle Peter what happened?" Peter said, not moving an inch from his position. Joe kept her gaze trained on the sidewalk in front of them. "Was it that visit from the Alphas? Did Derek learn something he shouldn't have?" When Joe did not answer, Peter sighed a bit and shrugged. "Not sure why he's all high and mighty about it, he's done plenty of mistakes himself. Rushing to action, our Derek. Not much of a planner."

"Why don't you go try this sympathetic uncle-routine on your actual niece or something? Leave me alone."

"Interestingly, Cora has been sulking even worse than Derek lately. She was always a strange child the way I remember her. Quiet, always lingering in the shadows, listening to things she shouldn't be."

"Fascinating."

"Not particularly," Peter disagreed. "Want to hear something that is though?"

For some reason, he held out his hand where his claws extended with a faint snip. It took everything Joe had not to recoil immediately — she forced herself to stare at his face with detachment. Part of her wished he would try something. Give her an excuse. She could take him easily.

"I'm, as you know, a born werewolf and I know a few things about our instincts and general behavior. A werewolf will, in most cases without exception, always use their claws when attacking. Did you know that? A clenched fist is, of course, still a viable option when less-than-lethal force is required. But, in fact, it takes practice — especially for someone bitten — to not use their claws. "

Joe sounded hoarse. "What's your point?"

"My point is," the claws went back into his hand, "that our boy Jimmy was punched, not clawed when I found him staggering through the woods. However, with his injuries, it would seem his attacker was doing more than just trying to prove a point." Peter tilted his head towards her. "See where it doesn't add up?"

"Yeah, big mystery. Why don't you ask Jimmy about it? Now, please leave me alone."

"And his wounds healed slower, so it had to have been an Alpha. Only one without claws..."

"I said," Joe got up while reaching back for the gun, making sure he saw it, "leave me alone."

At least Peter stopped talking, although he still smiled when he held his arms up. "Not to point out the obvious, but I'm not sure shooting me will bring you back into Derek's good graces."

"Considering how he slashed your throat once — with his claws — I doubt he'd be too heartbroken."

A glint in Peter's eyes as he got up slowly, holding his hands up in surrender. The playfulness was gone, replaced by suspicion. "Funny, I can't tell if you're bluffing or not."

"I'm not."

"Hm. You've changed, Josefina."

She took a deep breath, failing to get back in control. "You haven't."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked and before she knew it, he had disappeared inside the building.

It took some willpower, but she managed to let go of the pistol and back away from the door. He'd tell Derek, she realized. Did it matter? Did anything? She was losing control now. Seeing Ethan and Kali so suddenly threw her for a loop. She wasn't sure about anything.

Not even sure how she managed to get back to the apartment. Already before she opened the door, she could hear the loud voices inside. She unlocked the door in the right order and wasn't surprised to see Jimmy and Erica locked in an argument.

"Where the hell have you been?" Erica screeched the second Joe stepped inside. Her lips trembled as if they couldn't find the right word to settle on.

"What's going on?" Joe asked, even though she had a suspicion. Instead of the pajama pants and t-shirt, Erica was now dressed in jeans and had shoes on. She'd put on makeup as well, but it was already running down her face from sweat. Getting dressed hadn't come cheap. "Erica, what do you think you're doing?"

"She was already down the hall when I came back." By the looks of it, Jimmy had just gotten back himself, still wearing both jacket and sunglasses. He tore the glasses off to snarl back as Erica turned to him with glowing eyes.

"Because both of you disappeared for the whole fricking day! You left me here, all alone, for the whole day!"

Joe's insides went prickly and numb. "Did something happen?"

"No!" Erica roared and pulled on her hair. "I thought something happened to you!" Her lip pulled up, finally looking properly at Joe, more specifically, her hands. "And something obviously did." There was no hiding that Erica took a step back, even if her voice laced with concern, trying to stay brave. "Are you okay, Joe?"

"No," Joe said honestly and put the handgun on the kitchen island with a bang that made both of her roommates jump. She went for the coffee machine, letting her hands do the thinking. Instead of acknowledging Erica and Jimmy's glances at each other, she focused on Jimmy. "Where were you?"

He seemed to hesitate to answer, not sure if he should let her shift the attention. Jimmy licked his lips, nervous in the presence of the gun. "I found the Chemistry teacher. The Stilinski-kid was right. He's strung to a tree in the Preserve — strangled, throat cut, and head bashed in. Threefold death."

"Mr. Harris?" Erica swallowed, putting an edge in her voice to sound tougher than she was. "Yeah, he's a douche, he probably had it coming."

Problems upon problems, Joe thought and watched the simplicity of the coffee machine run hot water through the grains. Leaning forward on the counter, she sighed. "Okay, did you call it in?"

Jimmy shrugged. "I wanted to run it by you first. Because of your dad and all."

"Can't at least you try to think for yourself for five goddamn minutes?" Joe snapped, a bit harsher than intended, but instead of backing down, she followed through for once. Turning to Erica, she demanded: "And you? What was your plan if something had happened to us? You were gonna go after the Alphas on your own and what? Sway at them?" Joe scoffed, slipping back around to the coffee machine. "Look at you, you can barely stand."

A few heartbeats of silence followed before Jimmy ordered: "Erica, go to your room."

She was already well on her way there. The walls rattled when she slammed the door after her. Typical teenage behavior. Stupid teenage behavior.

"You are being a little irrational," Jimmy pointed out calmly, but Joe had caught how he had taken a deep breath to stay calm. "This isn't Erica's fault."

Joe glared at her hands that would not stop trembling. Peter had been right. She had changed. "I know! It's my fault. But to my defense, I'm too young to effectively parent a sixteen years old werewolf who is a total brat!"

Erica's voice came in a roar from the bedroom: "Bite me! Oh wait, your boyfriend already did!"

Joe felt her lip curl as she struggled with a comeback, everything from 'You asked for it!' and 'He's not my boyfriend!', all sounding equally juvenile and stupid. A roar rose in her own throat and she swallowed it down, even if she knew she could put Erica back in her place with it. Back in her place. Jesus. Listen to yourself, Joe.

Hands still trembling, she crushed any reply and focused on the coffee. She knew Jimmy was looking at her with concern, she knew he had that same look as Derek from earlier — how he worried she was going to fall apart in front of him. She hated it.

"For what it's worth, it's equally my fault." He had decided to back down, but she saw the muscles shift in his neck as he forced the transformation back. "I had not planned to stay for so long, but I was looking for clues." Jimmy pulled something out of his pocket. It looked like dirt in a sandwich bag and Joe only raised her eyebrow at it when he put it on the counter. "See those small white beads? Berries. From mistletoe."

She did see those white nubs in the middle of the soil. Joe rubbed her face and tried to think.

"Mistletoe. That's what the Alpha's emissary tried to use on me back at the diner." It hadn't worked and Joe had no idea why. "She used it on you, right?"

"She did," a slight pause as Jimmy bit back a growl, "when the wolfsbane failed. Mistletoe is, hm, a versatile plant. Know anything about it?"

"Uh...Miracle plant." That's what the Celtics called it and Joe racked her brain for more info. "Super sacred, especially if it grows on oak."

"It's a parasite." Jimmy leaned against the counter, keeping his distance from the gun. "It grows on trees, like you said, and feeds off them. Sucks the life out of it. That's why it's sacred, not holy. It grows out of nothing, flourishes when other things die, and can't be controlled. Big hit among the druids, who sought balance above all else. Mistletoe can both poison and cure."

Sighing, Joe studied the small plastic bag again. Big words for what looked like unripe blueberries. "It's a clue?"

"The Celtic believed the mistletoe plant sucked up the essence of whatever tree it grew on."

"Like the druid serial killer is doing with the different victim classes," Joe continued, seeing where Jimmy was going with this. "Virgins and warriors. Who's next?"

"Not sure. Could be scholars, healers, thieves...anyone's guess. But when they start on a new set of victims, they work quickly. Did you find the Emissary?"

"Yeah," Joe said and gave him a brief summary of her day. The Emissary, Ethan, Chris, and Kali. As she re-told the short elevator ride with Kali, she tried to clench her hands together. "She asked me all these things, scratched me and I just froze. Didn't say a goddamn word, Jimmy, I just...froze completely."

Coffee machine done, she was about to grab a cup, but Jimmy shut the cupboard door.

Noticing his purple eyes on her, she sighed. "What now?"

"You are running on an average of three hours of sleep, Joe. It's not sustainable." He brushed away her second attempt at opening the door. "You won't be able to fight anyone if you keep this up."

"Great, then it can be someone else's fault." Joe swiped at the cupboard, but Jimmy had several inches on her and simply moved his hand up without taking pressure off the door. "Jimmy, I swear to God, move your arm."

"Can you at least try the Benadryl? Erica and I'll both be here, you'll be safe."

Slamming her palm against the cupboard, she yelled: "I'm not taking any more pills, Jimmy! Never!"

He nodded in understanding, but never moved his arm. "Are you holding all the pain to your side now?"

"Always."

That was the truth. It was impossible to turn off now, to let some of it go at all. Muscle memory, ingrained by months and months of forced practice. She was not sure she could have managed to shift the balance that way even if she tried — or even when Derek grabbed her and ordered her to.

Pushing that memory away, she narrowed her eyes at Jimmy. "Why?"

Jimmy nodded again without answering, pulling his sleeve up on one hand. "Good. Ride or die, right?"

"Ride or die, but-"

She barely had time to wrinkle her brows before his fist came straight to her face. One punch knockout.

There you are. Feel that? Feel how strong you are?

It was dark when she woke up. Completely pitch black. She flailed around, constricted by something, and for a brief second, she was back at the vault. Back hearing how the others moved around inside while she was held outside, tended to by Erica, reshifting her slow-healing cuts and bruises. Now her night vision kicked in and she realized she was in Jimmy's bedroom.

Her nose throbbed gently — it had been a proper sucker punch. From a Demi Alpha, so who knew how that affected the healing process. Showed how much she let her guard down these days if even Jimmy could get to her.

"Son of a bitch," she swore into the empty room, just because she could and to remind herself she was still human. Hah, okay, semi-human at least. Groaning, mostly because of muscles now stiff and uncomfortable after hours of lying dead in the bed, she tumbled to the floor.

Something shifted around behind her and she turned to see that it was Jimmy, fast asleep with his mouth open.

She emerged to the hallway where the lights were still on. A harsh transition from the dark bedroom.

"Motherf-"

Stumbling to the bathroom, she squinted at the intense light that seemed to follow her and did her business, grumbling under her breath. A quick look in the mirror showed she had a fading bruise around the bridge of her nose. Not swollen, so if it had been broken, it was healed now. Recounting how she acted, she guessed she had it coming. Jimmy was not normally prone to violence unless pushed into a corner.

How long had she been out? The living room windows showed a dark sky outside, but that could mean anything from a few hours to a full day. Judging by how stale the coffee still in the pot was, it was closer to the latter. Quiet apartment, so she tried not to make too much racket when brewing up a fresh pot. Her phone relayed how Scott had texted her asking if she was okay. Now he worried, huh?

While the coffee made itself, Joe answered him saying that she was. A lie. Nothing was okay and she did not really know how to fix it anymore. All those weeks plotting to make a plan to escape, foiled because Derek walked right into the trap the Alphas laid out for him.

Kali was a master mind-manipulator, no doubt she had planted several layers of false memories in Isaac's mind. They'd wanted Derek to find the vault. They'd wanted him to break in and give two half-crazed werewolves their first taste of moonlight in months. Joe shook her head. No, their plan had failed before that, hadn't it? But it had been salvageable until Joe lost it and attacked both Erica and then Jimmy who tried to stop her.

She missed Derek.

In the privacy of the kitchenette, Joe allowed herself a minute of silent crying. Of just being sad and lonely and hurt. When Erica had gone missing, it had felt like Joe had lost a limb. Now it felt like she had lost her heart. Hollowed out, not a full person.

Without thinking, she touched the inside of her wrist, where a kiss as gentle as sunlight had landed. She wanted that. She wanted Derek first thing in the morning, with sleepy eyes and messy hair, and soft kisses. The mate-bond still scared her. The thought of committing so thoroughly to one person scared her. And still, she wanted him. More than physically, she wanted all of him. Mind, body, and soul. Everything he was willing to give and she would match him equally.

She wanted his deadpan attempt at humor. She wanted his slight smile when she ranted about her work. She wanted his stubborn, stoic and strong self. All of him.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, huh? Or two months where she had no choice but to listen to Erica dissect and analyze every aspect of her and Derek's relationship. This wasn't how she had pictured coming back to Beacon Hills.

The fact that he had not missed her the three months she was gone, that he hadn't known she was taken, that he was glad she was gone — it cut so deep into her it felt like a never-healing wound. And still, she knew she'd take his pain — all of his pain — in a heartbeat if necessary.

The 9mm lay imposing on the kitchen island where she left it. Jimmy wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole if she knew him correctly and Erica probably hadn't come out of the bedroom since she stormed in there. Joe drank her coffee slowly, savoring the bitter aftertaste, studying the weapon, wondering what she was going to do with it. Or anything.

They were three people living in a two-bedroom apartment. If this arrangement was to continue, they had to find a more permanent solution. Not that Joe had much need of a bed, but it would be nice to have a place for her clothes at least.

No, Joe thought and closed her eyes in defeat, angry with herself. This was not permanent. Erica could not permanently stay hidden here — her family was still looking for her. This was just until they could figure out a way to beat the Alphas.

Not that Joe had much faith in her ability to do so after the fiasco with Kali. Frozen, like a coward. Helpless, weak, pathetic. So she had a gun. What good would it do?

The door buzzer sounded and Joe leaped to attention. Half of her wanted to go wake up Jimmy to have him listen to whoever was downstairs, but he needed the sleep too if he hadn't already woken up from the sound.

Instead, Joe got the 9mm, loaded the clip, and checked the peephole of the apartment front door. Empty. The buzzer rang again.

She pushed the button to talk. "Hello?"

"Uh, hi, Joe? It's Allison."

Of every bad thing Joe had expected, the youngest Argent wasn't among them. Joe shrugged on her shoes and went downstairs, tucking the 9mm back in the waistband of her running tights. Allison stood clearly visible outside of the apartment building doors — she had cut her hair over the summer and lightened it, but otherwise looked the same. Nervous expression and all.

"Hi," Allison said when Joe pushed the door open and stepped out, after checking to all sides. Allison must have noticed her perimeter sweep. "Uh, I'm alone."

"Hi," Joe said warily. The last time she saw this girl, she'd shot a tranquilizer dart into her neck and almost gotten her killed by the kanima. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, uh, well, no." Allison hugged herself and took a deep breath. She wore an oversized knitted sweater that covered her hands. "Have you talked to Scott? Obviously you've talked to Scott, but today?"

"Not since," Joe tried to piece together what day it was, and then just decided to wing it, "since earlier. Did something happen?"

Allison worried her lip and burst out: "I think they're planning an attack. He and Derek and the others. On the Alphas."

The words made Joe's skin tingle. She listened to Allison explain what she knew. And more importantly, what she didn't know. While she had overheard Scott agree to meet Deucalion — or this blind guy, as Allison called him — alone at a specified location, she didn't know where Derek and the others held up in order to warn them.

"He can't go alone, it'll be suicide. But, uh, I'm not sure they'd listen to me," Allison finished, smiling close-lipped and uncertainly at Joe. "It's a trap. I mean, it has to be, right?"

"Sounds like it," Joe agreed and tried to gauge Allison's sincerity or motive for coming to her. "How, uh, are things between you and Scott now?"

"Good," Allison said a bit too fast, caught herself, and laughed in an embarrassed manner. "I mean, it's weird. I broke up with him, you know, after the whole-" She waved her hand around vaguely. "And he wasn't even sad, because he said something that we're meant to be together."

Joe rolled her eyes, making a mental note to slap him for that later. "Oh Jesus Christ, seriously?"

"Yeah, I know, it's weird, right? It's not just me?" Allison asked and in a few seconds, reminded her a lot of Aunt Mel. "Anyway, it's been kind of awkward since we haven't talked in four months and now Dad wants us to stay out of this and I just..." Allison bit her lips together. "I just can't, you know? It's not- it's not even about Scott, it's that I don't want anyone to get hurt again. Not if I can do something to stop it."

Joe understood what she meant. "So what do you want from me?"

"Can you talk to Scott? Or Derek even? I-" Allison made a strange facial expression, raising her eyebrows and rolling her eyes at the same time. "I'm not Derek's biggest fan, but anything to keep the Alphas from killing anyone."

"I mean, I can try," Joe said, already sounding doubtful at the prospect. Could she convince Derek this was a trap? It wasn't about how much he trusted her, it was more how much he distrusted her these days. She gave Allison a concerned look. "Do you have a plan B?"

She did and Joe promised to contact her after talking with Derek and the others. Based on what Allison told her, Scott was going to meet up with Deucalion tomorrow, so they didn't have much time.

Instead of going back into the apartment, Joe waited until Allison got in her car and sped off, leaving Joe free to run down to Derek's apartment building. It was still kind of early in the night, she determined, based on the number of people still wandering around so she should be okay.

This was gonna be awkward, Joe thought and took the elevator up to Derek's loft. Door already halfway open, she apparently arrived in the middle of a planning session with all her favorite werewolves huddled around the dining room table, sans Isaac. Derek and Peter were facing the doorway, glancing up at her arrival, but had probably detected her minutes before she walked in. Boyd, Scott and Cora stood on the other side of the table with their back to her.

Did her stomach turn to mush at the hard look Derek gave her? Absolutely. Did she have to physically force herself to keep walking instead of just running away? Also yes.

Only Cora and Scott seemed halfway happy to see her, Peter looked bored as usual, but she could have lived long without having to face Boyd. His jaw clenched and he looked decidedly away from her. On top of everything else, he had been close to Erica. It was unlikely he would try anything here in front of Derek — instincts and all — but she still found herself eyeing him just in case as she sat down on the steps just inside the doorway.

"Joe, what are you doing here?" Scott was the first to ask, the only one oblivious to the tense mood. The only one who didn't know what she had done. "Is everything okay?"

"No." Even at this distance, she could see what they were looking at and Joe nodded at the visible blueprints. "You're walking into a trap. Again."

"It's called a pre-emptive strike," Peter supplied helpfully with the ghost of a smile on his lips. Derek already had his arms crossed and focused on the table instead of her.

"It's not pre-emptive if they're expecting you."

"They're not expecting us," Cora argued, glancing between Joe and Derek. Her usual stoic expression had shifted into excitement, not a good sign. "We followed the twins to the apartment building where they live."

Scott nodded in agreement. "Yeah, and I met that blind guy, Deucalion, in the elevator earlier-"

"And I met Kali in the same building," Joe cut off Scott and leaned back with one elbow on the top step. She was aware of Peter's eyes on her, but tried to ignore him. It didn't matter. "So we have three instances of them wanting us to know their location, all in the same day. How much more obvious does this have to get?"

Derek finally spoke and his voice rubbed across her nerve endings like sandpaper as he did not even look at her. "We can still take them by surprise. They won't know when or how."

"They won't care!" Joe said and knew immediately her voice was too high, too harsh. "They'll be waiting for you anyway. You're already outnumbered and it takes more than three betas to take down even one Alpha. You don't stand a chance."

"Thank you," Peter said and turned to Derek with a 'told you so'-smirk. "My point exactly."

Without acknowledging Peter's existence, Derek let out a small breath. "We're going after Deucalion." He kept his neutral expression, but his eyes seemed to linger on Boyd for a fraction longer than necessary. "Just him."

"But we could use more help," Cora said, addressing Joe. "Like your friend — Jimmy."

Without hesitation, Joe said: "No."

"Why not? With the way he handled those hunters-"

The loft fell silent as Cora cut herself off under the intensity of Joe's glare.

"Look at that, she's practically a Hale already," Peter commented drily on Joe's glare, but the smile was forced as he tilted his head. Looking between Joe and Cora, who were both locked in a staring competition, he asked: "What hunters? Exactly?"

"I don't know," Joe spat, not taking her eyes off Cora, and now Joe crossed her arms. "Why don't you ask Cora since it sounds like she's the expert?"

It was a dick-move to throw Cora under the bus, but she was acting like a child and she had no idea what she was talking about. She hadn't been there when Jimmy 'handled' those hunters. She hadn't seen the blood or entrails coating the walls, she didn't wake up in a cold-sweat with that memory imprinted on her brain. Everything she knew stemmed from Erica's re-telling of what had happened.

"Very well," Peter conceded and turned to Cora. "What hunters?"

Like her brother, Cora was not particularly prone to blushing, but Joe recognized the tightening of her jaw as a sign of her discomfort. Embarrassment, usually coming across as anger. She held Joe's stare for a second longer before she wisely broke off to the side. "Forget it."

Tempted to say 'That's what I thought', Joe decided to not rub it in and gave Cora a short nod of approval.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I am feeling incredibly convinced by that," Peter said with a waxen smile. His eyes narrowed as the smile waned. "Come on, you gotta do better."

"Why?" Joe asked immediately. "I thought knowledge was a valid currency these days."

At that, Peter gave her a sardonic smirk — even if he did not approve of her methods, he grudgingly respected them nevertheless.

Scott looked confused. "But there aren't any hunters anymore. The Argents retired."

"The Argents aren't the only werewolf-hunters in the world," Derek said, careful to keep a neutral expression and Joe saw his gaze flicker to Boyd again. She wondered what kind of signals Derek was picking up on — probably nothing good.

Because if Boyd tried harder to avoid looking at Joe, his neck would snap from the sheer effort. Hell, even Joe could practically hear the leather creaking of the vest Boyd for some reason wore as he tightened his arms across his chest.

"Considering our history," Peter leaned towards Derek, obviously trying to appeal to him, "I'd still like to know if there are going to be surprise-hunters showing up on top of everything else."

Before Joe could reply, Boyd cut in:

"There won't be," he said, voice low and steady, eyes never wavering from Derek. "Because they're all dead."

As Joe closed her eyes in silent defeat — because of course Boyd would just out Jimmy like that — a long silence followed.

"Okay, that's certainly one way of handling things," Peter said with a nonchalant shrug. "Guess we have nothing to worry about then."

"Wait, hang on," Scott said, trying to keep up with this new information. He glanced at Joe. "Jimmy killed someone? Jimmy? Your roommate Jimmy?"

"Jimmy, the guy who helped me escape from the Alphas," Joe corrected, tilting her head to the side so she could stare down Scott. "And it doesn't matter. What you're planning is still suicide-"

"So we do nothing?" Boyd snapped, head tilted a fraction her way over his broad shoulder. "Sefina?"

The name sent spikes up her spine and choosing her words carefully, Joe bit out: "I'm not sure what killing yourself is gonna accomplish." She met his stare without hesitation and added: "Verne."

Just as Boyd's eyes started to glow just a bit more yellow, Derek cleared his throat pointedly.

"You," he addressed Boyd, who had snapped back to attention, and nodded at the blueprints, "find the most viable point of entrance." Derek finally directed his bright eyes towards Joe. "You. A word?"

Without waiting for an answer, Derek left the table and stalked past Joe out into the hall. Rolling her eyes, mostly because of the audience, Joe got up to follow him and tried to ignore the queazy sensation in her stomach. Her talks with Derek hadn't exactly been pleasant lately.

Her eyes narrowed when she saw him already in the elevator. Getting inside, she leaned against the opposite side of him and watched him push the button for the ground floor.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm being sent to the principal's office?" Her voice was again sharper than necessary, but this was a change of pace and she didn't like it. "Are you kicking me out?"

On the other side of the elevator — which was not far enough for either of them to escape the scent — he focused on the floor instead of her and heaved a sigh. "No, I wanted to talk in private."

"You soundproofed your room." It sounded like an accusation. Why would he not want her in there anymore? Another part of her was panicking about what he wanted to talk about. How bad would it be?

"I did," he agreed, "but it's not a hundred percent and I'm also suspecting Cora messed around with it. She was always a notorious eavesdropper."

Always, Joe thought and wondered again how weird it must be for Derek to see her again after all these years. After six years of thinking she had died in the fire and then having her pop up alive and relatively well in a vault where he had expected to find Erica. Erica. Joe's stomach churned just by thinking of that name, of what she had done to Erica, of how she had lost control. She couldn't even blame Boyd for hating her.

"And I figured I'd separate you and Boyd before it got violent," Derek commented drily as if he'd read Joe's mind when they reached the ground floor. "Do I need to be worried?"

Shrugging, Joe exited the elevator. "That's an open question. The answer's probably yes, but you need to be more specific."

Joe took up the spot against the wall outside of the elevator doors, cold bricks digging into her back through the sweatshirt. She tried to focus on her anger instead of the indentations in the bricks left by his claws several months ago. A different life, a different Joe.

This was obviously not going to be a repeat as Derek went to lean against his own wall on the other side of the hallway, probably twelve feet away. "What's going on with you and Boyd?"

The words flew out Joe's mouth before she could think them through: "Besides the obvious?"

Joe thought she would suffocate on the silence that followed.

"He knows?" Derek asked quietly after a while. No need to elaborate. They both knew what they were talking about.

"I think so." Heart hammering hard in her chest, Joe tried to remember to breathe. "You didn't tell him?"

"No." Without looking at him, Joe only heard the deep breath Derek took. "You said 'besides the obvious'. Is there anything else?"

"Ask him."

"I did. He's not saying much. Neither is Cora." His voice was flat and indifferent. "And it's starting to get old forcing them to talk. They're saying I should ask you, so now I am."

Shit. Misplaced loyalty. Folding her arms and forcing herself to not just run out the front doors, Joe sighed. "Death before dishonor."

"What?"

"Death before dishonor," Joe repeated in a louder voice. "Semper fi." At Derek's furrowed brows, Joe huffed. "You know his old man was a Marine, right? Afghanistan, two tours, died in combat? His ultimate hero and the one he was constantly comparing himself to?"

"I know." Derek still looked nonplussed. "What's that have to do with you?"

"Well, Boyd's pretty big on loyalty. And he was kinda kicking himself for running away in the first place," Joe kept her gaze firmly locked on the floor — that had been Erica's idea and she had convinced Boyd to follow along, "and you might want to have some kind of talk with him about that because he was feeling they deserved to be captured by the Alphas because of their 'desertion', deserved everything that happened to them."

Another uncertain nod from Derek. "And?"

Joe sucked in a harsh breath. "And Boyd probably thinks I should have resisted more."

The tense silence dragged on for a while, neither she nor Derek looking at the other. Neither wanting to poke into that infected ball of discomfort. Joe hated this. It wasn't the whole truth either, but it was part of it. That was the part she could take the blame for at least. The rest — refusing to let Boyd get himself killed because of that honor — was a decision she'd defend until her dying breath.

"Maybe he's right," Joe continued when Derek hadn't said anything — she expected him to ask if she agreed with Boyd and decided to beat him to it. "Maybe he's projecting his own issues onto me, I don't know. Probably a combo. Don't take it out on him, I can deal."

"Joe-"

"I can deal," Joe repeated and gave Derek a defiant glare, challenging him to disagree.

He looked resigned. "Okay. And Jimmy?"

Joe immediately pushed off the wall, paced around while shaking her head. "He's not like you, Derek, he's not a fighter. You can't ask him to join you on this. He's not been able to turn off his eyes for a month now, he's not-

"I just," Derek raised his voice slightly to cut her off, "want to know about the hunters. If it's gonna be a problem."

"No."

He sighed. "Care to elaborate?"

"No."

"Was Boyd lying?"

"No."

"Joe."

"What?" Joe snapped and turned to face Derek who had, like her, folded his arms across his chest. "What do you want me to say, Derek? Yes, Jimmy killed some hunters. Yes, it was self-defense. No, it wasn't pretty."

"How did hunters get into the vault?"

"Oh my God," Joe groaned and rolled her eyes. "Cora really hasn't told you anything, has she? Okay, fine. When Cora made her way from Venezuela up here, she picked up a tail of some South American hunters. The Alphas got her just a few days before me and," Joe swallowed harshly, "they didn't want Jimmy. They left him as a diversion to throw the hunters off Cora's tracks."

For a while, Derek just looked at the floor and she got the feeling he was listening for any signs of falsehoods. Unfortunately, there were none. His bright eyes glanced up at her. "And then he killed them?"

"No, then they forced him to shift completely and kept him in a cage for two months." Even if she sounded detached, her hands shook and she tried to stuff them into the opposite armpit to make it less obvious. "Then when he got out, it was the half-moon and he lost control and then he killed them. Happy?"

An involuntary shudder passed through her at the memory again. Fully shapeshifted Jimmy backed up in a corner was not to be trifled with. Derek opened his mouth like he was about to ask for more details, but he stopped himself. She could guess her chemosignals weren't exactly reminiscent of kittens and rainbows right now. As his focus shifted to her hands, she flexed them hard to stop the shaking.

"How's your arm?"

"What?"

Derek's eyes flickered up to hers for a second before they dropped lower, silently indicating her crossed arms that despite her best efforts were still noticeably trembling. "Your arm. I didn't- it's not- it's okay? Are you hurt?"

"What?" she asked again before connecting the dots. Her arm. Without thinking, she unfolded them and waved her left one around. "It's fine. Healed." More waving to prove it and she folded it back across her chest. "Don't worry about it."

His voice was so quiet and directed at the floor that she almost didn't catch it. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

"Dude, you're a werewolf."

At least that made him look at her, his attention snapping to her face. "That's," he said slowly, "not an excuse or an explanation."

"Any of this sound familiar to you?" she asked drily, tilting her head. No answer and she gave him another shrug. "You're a werewolf, I get it. You guys play rough. It's fine. I'm healed."

He regarded her for a second and judging by his expression, he was not soothed by her statements. Rather the opposite. "I wasn't trying to hurt you. I'm sorry that I did."

The contradiction in his statement was almost too obvious for her to throw back at him.

"I just-" Like before, he dropped his gaze down, unable to look at her. Endless festering guilt.

"Wanted to see how bad it would get without you feeling it?" Joe guessed, ice coating her words. Now he closed his eyes, head bent down fully as he nodded slowly. "Yeah, then I'm sorry to say that you gotta try harder than that."

As he bent his head down further, Joe felt the pang of guilt herself. This was not fixing anything. Making him feel worse did not make her feel better. The lack of sleep, the run-in with the Alphas, the thought of Derek's and Scott's suicide mission. Everything had her on edge today.

"I'm sorry." It was Derek who spoke first, obviously forcing himself to look at her, and her thoughts melted into nothing when he did. "There's no excuse for what I did, but I'm still sorry."

"I said it's fine."

"Joe, it's not."

Joe rolled both her eyes and head around. "Deja vu, anyone? Stop trying to dictate what I should be okay with or not."

"You should never be okay with me hurting you."

"Right back at ya." As usual, their conversations were full of words and no communication. She folded her arms again and leaned back against the wall. "Look, I didn't come here for some half-assed apology from either side. You're walking into a trap. Again."

He remained quiet and she could see the muscles shifting under his shirt as he seemed to brace himself. "I know."

That had not been the answer she expected. "You know?"

"I know," Derek repeated slowly. "Scott's gonna meet Deucalion alone tomorrow. I know. Cora and Boyd overheard." Another deep breath. "How are you sleeping lately?"

"What?" This was not the turn she had expected for the conversation. "How I'm sleeping?"

"Cora told me some things," Derek admitted. "So yeah, how are you sleeping?"

Traitor, Joe thought of Cora and shrugged. "Fine."

"Are you sure?" Concern laced his voice and his brows were pulled down in a frown as he studied her. "You look a little-" He must have realized his faux pas as he cut himself off.

"Rough?" Joe guessed, quoting Marin.

"I was going to say tired," Derek ran a hand through his hair, "but I'm not sure that's any better. I didn't mean it like that. Joe, you're beautiful as always, I'm just worried about you."

"Yeah?" It felt a little too late for that, even if her heart skipped at the sudden compliment. Too little, too late. "I'm sleeping fine." By now, Joe was getting kinda good at spotting when Derek was listening to more than her voice and she cocked her head to the side. "And I'm not lying."

He did not look convinced, brows drawing together in puzzlement.

Taking pity on him, Joe let out a bitter laugh. "I've learned a lot these last months. Finally figured out the difference between lying and withholding information. And the difference between telling the truth and being honest." Joe raised a lazy eyebrow at Derek. "Guess we really are equal now, huh?"

At least Derek caught on quickly. "You're not sleeping."

"But when I am, it's fine," Joe said and shot him a pair of finger guns with a completely humorless smile. "Now can we get back to how you're planning a suicide mission?"

"No," Derek re-crossed his arms, "you need to rest, Joe. Sleep. Heal."

"And you think I'll be able to do that knowing you're planning to ambush Deucalion?"

Joe pushed off from the wall and placed herself at arm's distance from him, hoping to talk some sense into the most stubborn werewolf in history. He seemed to grudgingly hold eye contact.

"Derek, you don't know what you're up against. Even if you managed to catch him alone — which I highly doubt — he's not a lightweight. Losing his sight didn't only sharpen his other senses, it made something in his mind snap. He's fanatical. Walker says his motive is power, but I'm not even sure it's that. Half of me thinks he's only doing this to see if he can."

Even if Derek nodded, she got the feeling it wasn't because she'd convinced him. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask you this," he said at a familiar slow pace, "but do you remember everything from the last three months?"

The question felt ten times worse than his claws had done. Instinct had her take an automatic step back as she hugged herself, as much for protection as to keep her hands still. Reflex wanted her to reach for her neck, to feel the smooth skin where claws had pierced. A range of answers and questions presented themselves, first and foremost who had told him. Cora? Boyd? Kali herself when she dug the steel pipe through his chest? It didn't matter though, not really.

Sometimes she hated how good he was at reading her. No answer was answer enough.

"How much is missing?"

A good question. As much as she wanted, she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Or lie to him. Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she stared at the floor. "Weeks. Maybe a month."

"Okay." Sensible as always, Derek nodded even if he sounded defeated. "Okay, we'll figure it out."

Her eyes closed on their own as he reached over to coax her hands out from the fold, clasping them in his to stop the shaking. A part of her brain flooded with endorphins at his touch, another threatened full shut-down because of what her hands had done, how he shouldn't want to touch her at all.

"I promise, Joe, we'll figure it out after-"

With a groan, she pulled her hands back. "You can't beat him like this, Derek. He's always ten steps ahead. We have to outsmart him somehow, I-"

"I have to try." Again he grabbed her hands, but only to pry them loose from each other where she'd unconsciously wrung them together. "And I'm going to have to ask you to stay out this, Joe."

Joe threw her head back, hoping his ceiling would give her strength. "Jesus Christ, Derek, how many times are we gonna have this conversation? If you're not gonna change your mind about attacking him, at least let me help."

"No. Out of the question. We've never had this conversation before," Derek said slowly, "but we can't trust you."

The words rained down like hail on her skin and before she could muster up any reasonable response, he continued:

"You said it yourself, you have a whole month you can't even remember. I'm sorry, but I can't take that risk right now."

He smelled weird. The thought butted itself upfront in her brain now that she was this close. His scent was wrong. Or was it just her response to it? How much pressure can a bond take before it breaks? Anything will break under enough pressure. She had changed. Had he? Or was this the same distrustful Derek as always?

The words rang inside her skull. She preferred him digging his claws into her arm. Preferred the physical pain.

"Oh," was all she managed to say, wondering how much of her utter humiliation and sadness he managed to catch of her scent. "Right."

"Joe, it's not for good, it's just until it's safe and we can figure out what you're missing-"

"No, I mean, I get it," she babbled, not really hearing him, just trying to distract from the tears in her eyes. "We had this conversation before at least. You don't trust me, it's fine." Except it was not fine, like at all, but she would rather cut her own throat than admit that right now. "But you obviously have everything under control, so I'm gonna leave. Um, sorry I came here."

"Joe..."

Out, out, out. She had to get out. Avoiding looking in Derek's direction, not that it mattered because her eyes were so clouded with tears anyway, she retreated from his touch, moving backward towards the front doors of the building.

At least now it was obvious why he brought her down here. It had nothing to do with Cora being an eavesdropper. He'd pumped her for information and now dismissed her. Worthless, weak, pathetic. Couldn't even blame him. How was she going to convince him to let her help when she was crying and trembling all the time? Like a child? A whimpering pathetic human child.

A strain built in her throat as she struggled to keep her composure until she was well away from the building. Not willing to break down completely so he saw, she waited a few more minutes before sniffing heavily and wiping her eyes. Pathetic. Weak.

The same second she was out on the main street and she could let her guard down slightly, she called Allison.

"They're screwed. Plan B is a go."

Yeah, so there's a lot going on in this chapter. Just one happy moment after the other...not. As usual, the only marginally bright spot is Jimmy. Not sure how many had caught on that he didn't spend the full three months in the vault, but now you at least know a bit more. JoyDG, a little less heartbreaking convo with Derek maybe? Not by much, unfortunately. Thanks to mercury30 for the Bella Swan-comment (as I have not in fact seen or read Twilight yet).

So, I just gotta repeat this: There will be a happy ending. We're not quite there yet though.

As always, thank you for reading! Thank you for the reviews on the latest chapters, you make it worth keeping such a tight updating schedule ❤ Please let me know what you think of this one too - any favorite parts? Any new theories based on the clues/answers in this chapter? Is Derek out of the dog-house yet?

Anyways, stay safe, guys, wherever you are in the world! (Thank you for telling me you can see the hearts! I'll try not to go overboard with them, haha)