The Skeptic

by alvfr

Joe is building her degree on the premise that werewolves, witches, ghosts - all those things that go bump in the night – aren't real. She chooses the attacks in her own hometown as a case study and gets sucked down the rabbit hole. Her cousin thinks he's a werewolf, this other guy claims to be her mate, and she is just trying to make her next deadline without dying in the process.

84. Chapter 84: The Storm V

Dawn

The light gave her the first clue something was wrong. Even without opening her eyes, Joe felt the warmth of what had to be sunlight caressing her face. Sunlight. After an eternity in the vault, sunlight didn't make sense anymore. Neither did warmth, the marble floors always remained cold and hard.

Was this a dream? Another cruel trick from her own mind, lulling her into a false sense of security before snatching it away?

Soft wind fluttered across her skin and she flew her eyes open. Which turned out to be a mistake. The harsh beams of a rising sun burned her nocturnal eyes and she squinted blindly at her surroundings. Blind, weak, human. Tears blurred her vision, but she could still make out an orange-tinted world so unlike the gray-ish violet she was used to. This was not the vault.

Nothing made sense and she gaped like a fish, not knowing whether to laugh or scream. A bright sun in the sky, warm sand under her hands, and fresh dry air in her lungs. This was not the vault.

For a few blissful seconds, Joe just blinked at this new world and wondered if everything before this had been a dream. The diner, the vault, the broken bones – all of it. Hope sprung in her empty stomach because even a coma-induced fever hallucination was better than the alternative.

Then her vision cleared and the jagged barb of reality filled her instead. This was not the vault. And she was not alone.

Joe tried to fly up, but her body still remembered yesterday's torture even if her mind tried to forget. So she flailed backward instead with legs too weak to support her and coughed from the scattered sand that lodged in her already parched throat.

"Where am I?" she choked out, sounding more like an anthropomorphic duck than the pissed-off Alpha she was. Her lungs burned along with her eyes, but things were clearing up by the second. "Where are the others?"

"Back at the vault," Kali replied calmly, seemingly undisturbed by Joe's distress. "It's just us here."

Not believing a single word, Joe glanced around wildly. This was another cruel trick, she was sure of it. Half-expecting to see the other Alphas lurking behind one of the barren trees surrounding the crude campsite, she heard her own heart thud loudly in her ears. There was nothing. Only endless stretches of a glowing orange wasteland dotted sparsely with tufts of brittle green bushes. No buildings, no roads, and no people.

No other Alphas.

"Duke worried you would run."

Kali sat cross-legged in front of a bonfire and stirred something in a small pot. A few ragged backpacks laid haphazardly next to her and even in her jeans and t-shirt, she seemed to blend into the surroundings. The domesticity alone had Joe question her sense of reality all over again. This had to be an illusion. Had she finally gone mad? Had they broken her completely?

"And maybe you're thinking about it right now. Running. It's only natural, after all. Instinctive." Kali's eyes glinted as she glanced at Joe. "It's the best chance you've had since we took you," she continued, still calm as ever. Joe's pulse raced harder while she crawled helplessly on the ground, trying to get her bearings and prepare for an attack. There was always an attach. Kali's eyes looked like burning stars in the dawning sun while she followed Joe's flailing. "But I know you won't run, Sefina."

Kali's words only half-registered in Joe's muddled mind. They had moved her while she slept, Joe realized. Or drugged her again. What sort of new game was this? What was Deucalion planning this time? Where were the others?

Joe tried to swallow and winced at the rawness in her throat. Still, she spat: "You sure about that?"

"You know that you're both too dehydrated and weak to make it very far. You know that even on your best day, you would not be able to outrun me. And you know that we still have your little betas and even if you don't know exactly what we'll do to them, I think you can imagine it quite well. Those bones healed yet?"

Kali had the audacity to sound bored, and kept stirring the gray goo cooking over the fire. Joe's bones had healed as a matter of fact, but she still felt the fatigue draining in her veins. Nothing comes for free.

"So I told Duke I knew you wouldn't run," Kali finished when Joe hadn't said anything, "because I know you're not an idiot." Her penetrative gaze swept over Joe. "I'd go back to the shade if I was you."

"What?"

With a swift motion, Kali tossed something at Joe. Pure instincts had Joe catch it, wincing at her sore muscles, and she stared at the water bottle more confused than ever.

"Go sit in the shade and drink something. Breakfast's almost done."

Unable to move, Joe blinked at the older woman, every single reply dying on her dry lips that kept cracking and healing. Part of her wanted to petulantly resist, even if a more rational part of her knew that she was dehydrated and sitting exposed in the sun like she was doing wouldn't help.

"You're cooking breakfast?" she finally spat, inching her way back towards the shade provided by a large boulder shielding part of the campsite from the sun. The cool rock grounded her a bit, and Joe realized this was real.

Kali nodded and took the pot off the fire. "It's a one-time thing, so don't get used to it. After this, we'll hunt for our food."

Even though she tried to hide it, Joe still flinched when Kali stalked closer. Of course Kali noticed, judging by the disgusted sneer on her face, but Joe still made no motion to accept the pot. They stared at each other for a split second until Kali rolled her eyes and dropped the pot into the sand next to Joe's feet.

"I won't force you to eat—"

The grey goo turned out to be oatmeal after Joe looked at it more closely, and even that smell was enough to send hunger pangs through her. The Alphas had been sparse with sharing their food at the vault and Joe had to admit she was starving.

"—but you'll regret it soon enough." Something akin to pity lingered in Kali's eyes when she studied Joe now, obviously seeing — or smelling — the distrust. "Eat and drink. You need to regain your strength. Today will be hard enough for you."

Stubborn to the last, Joe refused to touch the oatmeal. The water also beckoned for her, but she willed herself to stay still. "Where are we?"

Several seconds passed while they just stared at each other. Neither moved while the sun crept higher over the horizon. To her surprise, Kali eventually shrugged.

"The Mojave desert, if you must know."

"Why?"

Kali's brown eyes dipped down to the pot next to Joe. "Eat."

"No."

"If you do what I say, we won't touch your little friends, okay? Now eat."

"No."

"Don't be an idiot, Sefina." Kali's words came clipped through bared fangs and her eyes flashed red. "Eat."

Taking note of the sparse vegetation and the vast expanses of the horizon around them, Joe realized Kali had been right. It was obviously no point in running. And she was too weak to fight. She grabbed the stupid pot instead and glared at Kali again. "Do I get a spoon?"

"No."

Another few seconds of staring while Joe tried to call Kali's bluff and realized there was none. "Are you serious?

"You have hands, don't you?"

Everything was a goddamn power play with these people. Joe didn't move.

"It's only us here," Kali repeated herself from earlier. "Just eat."

"Say please."

The word came through bared fangs as a growl, almost too low for Joe to hear: "Please."

Not breaking eye contact, Joe reached into the warm pot, scooped up a handful of oatmeal and stuffed it in her mouth. It tasted of nothing and stuck like glue to her tongue, but she managed to swallow. God, she was hungry.

Forgetting all about Kali for the time being, Joe ate. In record time, she stuffed her face with the bland oatmeal and gulped down the whole bottle of water. Even when her mind protested the humiliation, her body took over. She needed food. She was no use to anyone if she laid dead in the middle of the goddamn Mojave desert.

Feeling more like an animal than ever before, Joe scraped the pot and licked her sticky fingers to make sure she got all of it. She hated that Kali was right again, but it was easier to hate on a full stomach.

"Okay," Joe said and wiped her hands on the ragged pants she wore. "Why did you bring me here?"

"To prepare you."

Joe groaned. "What is it with werewolves and cryptic answers? Let's try again: Why did you bring me here? Why here? Why me? When do I go back to the others?"

Kali's lip twitched sideways. "There you are."

"Bite me." Joe fought down the urge to flash fangs she didn't even have. "You said we're gonna hunt for our food? How long are you planning on staying?"

"Until you are ready."

"One freaking straight answer, is that really too much to ask for?" Joe exclaimed and bounced up from her position; Kali's deadpanned expression made her roll her eyes in exasperation. "Ready for what?"

"To kill."

"Kill who?"

"Anyone, really."

There was no way to respond to that, but Kali was not expecting anything either. She rose to her full height now too, the sun behind her giving her an impossibly tall silhouette.

"Now take your shoes off, we're wasting daylight."

---

Noon

"Ow."

"Don't move."

"I'm not— ow!"

"I told you to hold still."

Joe bit in another cry when Kali tugged at the strands of hair near her scalp. She also bit in the reply that she actually was holding perfectly still and only moved because Kali tried to yank Joe's curls right out of her head. She sat behind Joe on the ground in the shade of the boulder, both of them with their legs folded underneath them.

"Ow!"

Growling, Kali loosened her grip a fraction while her voice grew even darker. "You are your father's daughter, that's for sure."

"What does that mean?" Joe growled back and tried turning to glare at Kali. Her vision filled with sharp claws when Kali yanked Joe's head back to its original position. "Ow!"

"Completely unable to follow simple directions. Argues about everything," Kali's fingers went back to Joe's hair, twisting it into tight braids, "and to make matters worse, you got his hair. These curls are a nightmare."

"How do you know it's not from my mother?" Joe challenged. Despite her own complicated feelings towards her father, she resented the way Kali talked about him. Everything wrong with Joe — weak, blind, deaf, and human — was his fault. And now Kali even blamed him for Joe's hair.

"Because I knew your mother," Kali said without a trace of emotion in her voice. "And her hair was nowhere near this coarse."

Knew. Was. Past tense, like always.

Silence reigned over the campsite while Joe chewed her bottom lip, trying to keep the accusations and questions to herself. The weeks spent with Kali in the desert had been brutal, but not in the same way as the vault. Sure, she got her ass kicked extensively every day, but only when she was too slow to block. She had, quite literally, a fighting chance to avoid being hurt.

Kali, while not overly concerned for Joe's well-being, did not seem interested in hurting her just for fun. And despite Joe's wariness, a semi-comfortable rapport had built between the two of them. Stockholm Syndrome, Joe's subconscious added, like it even mattered at this point.

Still, Joe knew she was pushing it when she asked: "What was she like? My mom?"

The minuscule pause in Kali's handiwork would have gone undetected by most. Except for Joe, who knew what to look for.

"Stupid," Kali eventually said. Joe fought to remain still, even if every fiber of her being wanted to turn around to watch Kali's expression right now. One thing she had learned was that werewolves seldom lied. They knew other werewolves would be able to tell, so most of them twisted the truth to their liking instead. Kali's voice grew quieter and she added: "Young and stupid."

Joe couldn't help herself. "What happened to her?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to."

"I never do," Joe mumbled and memories of simpler times — even if they hadn't seemed simple back then — surfaced. She squashed them down. Thinking of... Thinking of him hurt too much. She had to focus on surviving. She had to survive. For herself, for her pack, and for him. "So you might as well answer me."

"You want the ugly truth?"

"Yes."

"She died."

"How?"

"Killed herself."

"Why?"

"You don't want to know."

"Try me."

Kali snarled. "She was weak. She did not learn it was kill or be killed until it was too late." Kali's movements grew rougher and harder. She yanked Joe's head back, making the skin stretch taut over her exposed throat. "And she chose to end her own life rather than live with the hard realities. Now you either hold still or we'll shave you bald."

"Fine by me." Joe winced when Kali went back to business and moved another lock, tightly braiding the unruly curls. "Just cut it off for all I care."

"Will you shut up?"

Kali growled and maneuvered Joe's head straight again — forcing her to face the sad remains of a brittlebush near their little campsite — and continued with the braid. Neither said anything while Kali finished her work, but Joe could feel the tension in her muscles. The instinct to push back and keep fighting. The werewolf in her refusing to back down from any kind of challenge.

Except she wasn't full werewolf and should be able to remain in control.

The warm desert breeze whisked at the small curls in the back of her neck and the already escaping locks, but she fought to remain still. Although infuriating, the braid had been Kali's idea in the first place. After she had helped Joe brush out the tangles, she claimed they had to do something to get it out of Joe's face. It was getting too long, whipping around while they trained. It was, despite the harsh treatment, a kindness of a sort.

"My dad always said I had my mom's temper."

"Of course he did."

"And that I looked a lot like her."

"You don't."

"I think it hurt him to look at me sometimes, especially when I grew older. I think… I think despite everything he really missed her."

Kali didn't reply.

"He also said I was more stubborn than both him and her combined."

"For once, I think I might agree with him." Soon enough Kali had tied off the braids and shifted around to face Joe. It was like she searched Joe's features for something, but Joe couldn't tell what. Kali's dark eyes didn't reveal much. "There you are."

Naked and exposed under the intense scrutiny, Joe shrugged to distract herself. "Here I am."

"Your father is wrong. You're prettier than your mother." No sign of emotion in Kali's voice, just her cold hard matter-of-factness. Like she had not paid Joe a compliment, but shared an opinion about the weather. Her sharp eyes trailed over Joe's hairline, nose scrunching in discontent. "Don't move."

"Still not moving."

The heat from Kali's hands left Joe's head and she dutifully sat still while Kali stalked over to the few supplies she had brought. They hunted for food, walked miles for water, and relied on their supernatural healing to take care of them otherwise. The days were long and grueling in the scorching sun when they trained; the nights were cold and uncomfortable when they slept. And yet Joe hated the evenings the most because it finally offered her a chance to think. To be alone with her thoughts before exhaustion claimed her mind. To remember the life outside the desert, the ones back in the vault and Beacon Hills and all the things relying on her keeping her head on straight and not getting manipulated by—

"Here."

Kali returned with a small vial containing what looked like oil, but smelled like citrus. She crouched down in front of Joe, coated her fingers with whatever it was and reached out to Joe's face.

At Kali's raised hand, Joe flinched and her arm moved involuntarily to get up to block. Her chemosignals either reeked of distrust or confusion or both, but Kali stopped moving either way.

"It's for your hair," Kali explained slowly, lifting her eyebrow in amusement. "To keep the edges clean."

She smoothed her fingers along Joe's hairline, tidying up the strands of hair too short to be contained in any braid. A lump stuck in Joe's throat when she noticed the way Kali splayed her fingers to avoid raking Joe's skin with her claws.

It was the first time Kali ever laid hands on her without causing any kind of pain. Touching her with a resemblance of tenderness. And somehow it was this touch that hurt Joe the most. Kali may have killed Catalina García a long time ago, but this just proved she was not completely gone.

---

Dusk

The fire had burned down and only gray ashes remained. The sun wavered just over the horizon, with the air cooling by the minute. The nights were freezing out here, but Joe suspected her increased healing had also increased her core temperature and wasn't too bothered. She picked at the grilled snake that had been their dinner; the fatty tissue left stains on her hands as she tried to use her blunt fingernails to get at the edible bits. If she didn't think too hard about it, it sort of tasted like chicken. Really chewy, kind of gross chicken.

Unable to get all the meat out, she put the whole thing to her mouth and used her teeth instead. Her useless human blunt teeth. Well, not useless, but not that efficient either. Waiting for a comment from Kali about this, Joe felt oddly uncomfortable when Kali remained quiet. In fact, the older woman had been uncharacteristically silent the whole night. Joe glanced over at her unlikely companion, who again stared solemnly up at the darkening sky without paying any attention to Joe. Her half of the snake dangled from her hand, still untouched.

"Everything okay?"

Kali remained in the same position, although her eyes shifted sideways to stare at Joe instead. Something obviously weighed on her mind — didn't need to be a werewolf to figure that out — but instead of answering, Kali wordlessly offered Joe the rest of the snake.

"Thanks, I guess?" It never paid of to decline extra food so Joe just dug in without a second thought. She watched Kali while she ate and saw the same tell-tale frown she knew from the mirror. And it really got on her nerves. "Seriously, what's up with you?"

"Eat."

"I am eating."

"Then how are you still talking?"

"It's a talent," Joe managed to say between chewing. She swallowed for emphasis and tried not to think about the way the meat slithered down her throat. "We're going back soon, aren't we?"

This only increased the depth of Kali's frown. "How did you know?"

"Believe it or not, but I've actually started paying attention to the lunar cycle lately." Joe pointed at the sky where the moon had almost reached the same phase as their first night in the desert. "You took me out here right after the last full moon. And it's going to be full again in a day or two. We don't really feel the moon at all in the vault, especially not the full one, and I'm guessing that's on purpose. All part of Deucalion's grand plan."

"Well, aren't you the clever one." Kali leaned back against one of the larger rocks and stretched her long legs out languidly. She flexed her toes, seeming to study the way her claws glinted in the dimming light. "These weeks out here have done you good. Can you feel it? You're stronger, both physically and mentally."

"Amazing what a vigorous exercise regime, strict diet and a consistent sleep-schedule can do to a person. Your werewolf bootcamp deserve a five star rating, apart from the facilities I mean."

This earned Joe a snort from Kali, as well as one of her few genuine smiles. It washed away by the next second though and melancholy brandished her features in its place.

"Can you imagine if we had more time? How strong you'd become?"

Time, huh? Either the full moon was closer than she thought or a part of Joe realized it was now or never, because she blurted out: "If you hadn't left, we could have had twenty-three years or so."

There it was. Out in the open. Finally.

To her credit, Kali didn't even flinch. If anything, she looked somewhere between resigned and relieved while Joe tried to distract herself by picking snake meat out from her nails. Like distracting her mind would distract her heartbeat from picking up, revealing her nervousness to Kali.

Finally, Kali sighed. "How long have you known?"

"A while," Joe said, choosing her words carefully. "You haven't exactly been discreet." In fact, sometimes Joe suspected Kali wanted her to find out. "The way you talk about Dad doesn't really give the impression he was just a casual acquaintance."

"No. I have never loved anyone as much as I loved your father." Kali remained in her relaxed position and had the faraway expression of someone deep inside a well of memories. "For a long time, I thought I hated him. It took me a while to realize love and hate are just two sides of the same moon."

"Right." Joe had no idea what to say, but probably could have thought of something better than: "So that's what Pink Floyd meant about the dark side of the moon. Gotcha."

"You can joke all you want, but it's a lesson most people learn sooner or later. Even you."

"I'm pretty sure I know about hate," Joe thought about a particular face crowned by long blonde hair, "and I'm pretty sure love's got nothing to do with it."

"The huntress?" Kali guessed and Joe nodded.

Slowly, during the course of their stay in the desert, Joe had confessed more or less the whole story concerning Kate to Kali. Actually, it wasn't more or less, it was all of it, more than she had told any of the others back in Beacon Hills. On a rational level, she knew Kali would use the information against her at some point — which she had already done during training to goad Joe into attacking — but on an emotional level, it had been one of the more therapeautic things she had ever done. Kali was, after all, still an outsider, but more importantly, she didn't coddle Joe like both Aunt Mel, Derek or her dad would have done. Kali didn't hold back at all when telling her how incredibly stupid and reckless some of her decisions had been. Sometimes she also offered suggestions on how Joe should have handled it, if she'd stopped to think for even a second.

Surprisingly, some of Kali's suggestions had involved Derek — like why they hadn't cooperated where his senses and her knowledge could have been useful — and that had led Joe to slowly confess everything about Derek too. The confusion, the distrust, the lies and the… misunderstandings. And then somehow that had trickled into talking about Scott, and then Aunt Mel, and Alex, and the other kids who were still in the vault, and then the ones back at Beacon Hills. In the end, Kali probably knew all of Joe's inner thoughts better than herself.

It wasn't a completely one-way-streeet though. Sometimes Kali offered anecdotes from her own — very long and colorful — life and sometimes she offered answers Joe hadn't known to think about before. Of course she made stupid decisions during the full moon — she was, by proxy, a werewolf. And of course she was stressed about Erica and Boyd running away — she was, by proxy, their Alpha.

"You don't hate the huntress," Kali said now, and held up her finger when Joe opened her mouth to protest this wildly inaccurate statement. "You might think you hate her, but you don't, mon bebe. You fear her. Intensively and repulsively. You reek of it. Only the thought of her is enough to set it off."

Joe swallowed with more effort than when she forced down the snake meat, but had no reply to offer. Her mind flashed to the constant vigilance that had followed her ever since she first suspected Kate was alive — and how it had amplified every run-in with the madwoman since. It was the only — only — bright side of being kidnapped by the Alpha pack: at least she didn't have to worry about Kate. Absurd irony.

"So trust me," Kali continued slowly, giving Joe time to contemplate her words. "Only someone you love can hurt you enough to warrant hate."

Ever at odds with her own mind, Joe found herself thinking of the times she had been really hurt. Sure, she'd been hit, kicked, stabbed, tortured and shot and still her mind wandered to the pain that had stuck with her longer than any scars ever could. Her dad's lies and Scott's betrayal mostly. Derek? Did she hate him for what he'd done to her? Made her an Alpha without telling her and unwittingly landing her in this mess? Part of her wanted to say no, that she could never hate him. Another part of her just prayed this was true and would stay that way.

Aware that Kali was watching her — like Jimmy said, she smelled sweeter when thinking of Derek and Kali probably picked up on it — Joe cleared her throat and studied the cooling sand by her naked toes.

"For what it's worth, I don't think Dad hates you."

"Maybe not, but he's afraid of me." Shadows fell over Kali's face just like they fell further over the campsite. "They say you can't remember smells, but I'll never forget how it radiated off of him the last time we saw each other. Terrified. Disgusted."

"When you left."

"When he made it clear," Kali's fangs lengthened, mangling her words, "I wasn't welcome back."

Joe said nothing — because what could she possibly say?

Just as soon as they'd come, Kali's fangs retracted and she sighed again. "Which was probably for the best. Your father was always meant to be a father, but I was never meant to be a mother."

"True, your maternal instincts leave a lot to be desired.

Kali's sudden laugh echoed through the desert and a strange sense of pride blossomed in Joe's chest, like a foreign plant bursting through unfamiliar geomorphology. It shouldn't be there — should never have existed — and yet, here it was. The same went for the laughter — unbridled and honest and heartbreakingly familiar as it escaped through Kali's lips.

"You really are your father's daughter," Kali said with more warmth than Joe thought she was capable of and the newfound pride bristled at the praise. "But you," Kali reached over to tug lightly at Joe's long braids, "aren't afraid of me anymore."

It took her a second before Joe realized what Kali meant. A month ago, Joe would have flinched at Kali's raised arm. Two weeks ago, she would have blocked. When did she stop being afraid of Kali? The words Stockholm syndrome, indoctrination and radicalization blasted through Joe's ever treacherous mind, but blurred into fine mist at the sight of one of Kali's rare genuine smiles.

Genuine, but sad.

"What?"

"Imagine how strong you'd become if we had more time."

Time. More time. Here in the desert everything seemed endless. Here, in the desert, it seemed strange they shouldn't have all the time in the world.

The dying fire flickered in Kali's dark eyes as she looked at Joe. "I don't make a habit of dwelling on the past. I stand by and live with every decision I've ever made. Including leaving you and your father. And I don't believe in worrying about 'what if'. There have been too many 'what ifs' in my life. These last few weeks, however, has given me a glimpse at what could have been. What if I hadn't left. What if you'd trained as my successor. What if we had more time."

A million questions presented themselves — one for each visible star in the darkening night sky — every single one of them already asked at some point during their weeks here. Some answered, some avoided. She knew why Deucalion was doing this; knew what he wanted, who he wanted, and why. She knew why Kali was training her, why she was separated from the others, and what they wanted her to do. There was one thing she still didn't know, however.

"What do you want, Kali?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Kali's sharp nose turned towards the night sky again, as if inhaling the darkness, before turning back to face Joe. "The same thing I've always wanted. I want you to survive."

The words hit Joe with more force than Kali's blows and she momentarily forgot to breathe. It was a borderline sweet sentiment, if she ignored what Kali meant by survival.

How Kali wanted her to survive.

"By joining Deucalion."

"I've followed him for a long time now. Joining him is surviving."

"Not if you help me stop him. Help me free the others."

At that, Kali only smiled, bitterness written all over her face. "There's no stopping Deucalion. He plans and plans and plans where I just… act." Her eyes closed in defeat. "Like now. This wasn't supposed to happen, you know."

"Which part? The kidnapping or the torture or both?"

Apparently not in the mood for any more of Joe's quips, Kali just shook her head. "No, this. Us. Creating a bond."

Bonds. It was always about bonds. Breaking bonds took power — and gave power. It was how the Alpha Pack had grown to such strength, breaking the bonds to their Betas with force — by killing them.

"These weeks out here have done you good, mon bebe. Too good." Her fingernails, now growing into claws, caressed Joe's cheek. "I really wish I could let you keep them, " Kali said and plunged her claws into Joe's neck.

---

Midnight

Stretching her legs out, Joe wondered why she could not feel neither her legs nor the ground she supposedly sat on. There was a small fire burning next to her, but it emitted no warmth and had the disturbing color of a healing bruise. No smoke, no heat, and no fire, even though it gave the impression of one. As Joe peered around, the landscape she had thought reminded her of a desert faded away, like it could not stand the power of her gaze.

Looking up, she saw no stars. It was like staring into a drawing of cosmos, all swirling vortices and slick purple-toned shadows. No chill in the air and when she tried to breathe, and to be honest, she was not even sure if there was air. If she looked down, she saw her own body, but maybe she was just imagining it for her own sanity.

"Uh... hello?" Joe asked and got up. At least she thought she got up. When you can feel neither ground nor feet it was hard to tell. Without overthinking it, she spun around and her eyes landed on a wolf. Of course it was a wolf. Her subconscious would not have been complete if there hadn't been a wolf.

She realized it was the first time she'd ever seen a wolf in real life — if this even qualified as real life.

It was larger than the biggest dog she knew of, and nearly golden in color. It sort of reminded her of wolves she had seen on National Geographic once, a sub-species that had adapted to the northern parts of Africa. Without anything to measure against it was hard to say for sure, but it looked slimmer than its American cousins.

"Oh, that's weird," Joe mumbled when the wolf began to morph into something else. Apart from the fur, there were a lot of skeletal discrepancies between a quadrupedal animal like the wolf and a bipedal human, which she guessed where this was going. At least the fur dropped away last, sparing Joe the full insight in how the muscles shifted, stretched and moved to go from one being to another. "Kali?"

It was Kali. No doubt about it. Tall, beautiful, and completely and utterly naked. Joe was all about body positivity and being comfortable in your own skin and the natural state was being naked and should be celebrated — it was just a bit much with everything else that was going on.

"Josefina," Kali said and tilted her head with an almost serene smile. Almost serene, anyway, because there was a definite glint in her eye when she said: "Daughter."

"Oh God, are we doing the whole Lion King sequence here? You don't think that's a little cliche?" Joe held her hand out to shield herself from Kali's nudity. This was her mother after all. "And do you have to be naked for this?"

Kali said nothing, but somehow clothes materialized on her body as she walked around the not-fire on the not-ground. She looked up the same way Joe had, towards the endless universe floating around them, but didn't look anywhere near as confused as Joe felt. "Always wondered what this looked like."

"This being?"

"Limbo."

It was hard to breathe when there was no real air. "I'm assuming you're not referring to the traditional Trinidadian dance where you bend backward under a pole, but rather the existential plane between life and death?" Without waiting for an answer, Joe continued: "Interestingly almost all religions and mythologies in the world have some sort of concept similar to the Christian term limbo. The Greeks had Fields of Asphodel, Islam has Barzakh, and the Buddhists bardo."

The neverending cosmos seemed to swallow Joe's words.

"Uh, why are we in limbo? Did I die?"

"No, I did."

Joe shook her head, mumbling to herself: "And I finally lost my mind for real. Wow. Limbo, that's great."

"This is real, Sefina." Kali shrugged when Joe gave her a disbelieving stare. "For a given value of real, anyway. Look."

Kali pointed into the not-fire, where they could see the reflection of the ground floor of Derek's building, almost as if they were up in some sort of skylight and looking down. White haze covered most of the room, the only thing really visible was Kali. Or what used to be Kali, anyway. Somehow, there wasn't any doubt in Joe's mind that the real Kali was here with her and down there it was just Kali's dead body. A shell of a person. Lying on the floor with large shards of glass penetrating it from head to toe, a shadowy figure kneeling down by its side. Other shadows also moved around, but they were impossible to make out.

"Okay, why am I in limbo when you're the one who's dead? Are you sure I'm not crazy?"

"Do you remember the month in the desert?" Kali sounded mellow here in limbo, at peace, or at least like she was moving towards that. "Our time together?"

"Straight answers are still too much to ask for, huh? Yes, I remember now," Joe said and sat down like Kali had, trying not to overthink how her body seemed to know it was sitting down even when she did not feel anything solid underneath her. "Why did you take that from me?"

"Because of the bond between us." Kali's answer was a gentle whisper in the night. "A bond, like an Alpha with Beta, like a mother with daughter. Which is why you're here now. Call it a back-up plan if you'd like."

Joe rubbed her face, the lack of sleep still burning behind her retinas even here in limbo. "It's been a long day, Kali, can you please elaborate? No fucking cryptic werewolf speech, for once, I'm begging you."

"Giving your memories back restored the bond between us, subsequently making you my closest — and only — beta. And therefore, my successor."

"Your successor? What does— are you kidding me? No, no, no. I'm an Alpha again? Please say sike. Say sike, Kali!"

It occurred to Joe that she should have shown the limbo space more reverence, but she gave herself a free pass, Just this once, anyway, since it was a special occasion. After all, her mother had just died. Haha. Ha.

"I'm so over being an Alpha," Joe muttered and rubbed her eyes again. "How was this a back-up plan? You told me you don't plan, you just act. What was the initial plan?"

"That you kill one of your betas to gain power and take your place by my side in the Alpha pack." Kali cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes slightly. "Hm. That wasn't what I was going to say."

"Is it true?"

"Yes," Kali gave the cosmos around them a disdainful look, "but a bit more… forthright than I had intended. I think maybe this place has something to do with that. I've only heard stories of this, you know— where the handover between old and new Alpha takes place when the Alpha spark is inherited instead of stolen."

"And you stole the spark before you got the chance to inherit it," Joe said in a flat voice. Remembering how carelessly Kali treated the lives of others brought a tight knot to Joe's throat, most of all because Joe knew she was actively trying to avoid thinking about it most times.

"Yes and no. I did steal the spark, but I was never in line for inheriting it. My sister was the one being groomed as the next Alpha."

"Sarah? No, wait, Sierra."

"Mm. The older, wiser, more level-headed sister. Who submitted to me as a Beta instead of challenging me after I killed the old Alpha — our father. And then ran away with her tail tucked between her legs instead of facing me when I wanted out of leading the pack." Kali blinked at her own words, seeming surprised to hear them."When I joined Deucalion, I mean."

"I thought you said you joined Deucalion because of Ennis."

"I did. Or, it was part of the reason, at least. But I was also tired. Tired of the endless battles for dominance, the constant threat from other packs and hunters, and the nonstop peacekeeping within the pack. Papa Jose had been the Alpha for far too long, most of the others in the pack didn't know anything else, and when I took that by force it threw everything into chaos. And I tamed that chaos for fifteen long years, hoping it would even out eventually. It didn't. So, joining Deucalion was a way out of all of that, without giving up my life."

"'Joining Deucalion' is a very gentrified version of saying that you killed your whole pack in cold blood," Joe snapped, not in the mood to feel sorry for Kali. "You're acting like you didn't have a choice. There's always a choice."

"Well, look who's suddenly an expert. Then tell me, mon bebe, how to relinquish the Alpha spark without dying?" Kali scoffed when of course Joe had no answer to offer. "When you take — or inherit — the spark, it's permanent. Like the bite, it's a gift and a curse. My only real alternative was to drive away my pack — which I tried — but you can just ask Derek how easy that is. Or I suppose you know that yourself by now. Bonds aren't easily broken, no matter which way."

"Derek found a way that didn't involve death," Joe challenged, but couldn't help but shudder at the memory. A strange ethereal and all-encompassing pain, but pain nonetheless.

"Ah, yes, sacrificing the spark to save someone else. The only problem is that you have to want it on a level where you'd be willing to die trying to save them. And I never wanted to save someone that much. Until now."

"Until now," Joe repeated in a hollow voice. In the not-fire, the shadow people still moved slowly and Joe wondered how time worked here in limbo compared to the 'real' world. It could go both ways based on what she knew of it from her studies — people resucitated after drowning reported feeling like they'd been floating for hours while only a few seconds had actually passed, while coma patients felt like they'd just closed their eyes when in reality it had been months."You said this was a back-up plan. Did you know Derek would give up his Alpha-ness? Alpha-hood? Alpha-dom? Whatever."

"No, but there was the chance of you losing the spark if he died." Kali shrugged noncomitally at the affronted expression on Joe's face. "Or, if all else failed, I planned to restore your memories and hoped it would make you hate me enough to kill me and take the power from breaking that bond."

The words settled like dust in the not-desert around them.

"Well, congratulations," Joe swallowed harshly as she recalled their last conversation in the desert and her nostrils flickered in an attempt to keep her voice steady, "I hate you."

The not-fire flickered as the cosmos around them moved at a glacial pace. Kali's expression didn't change, except for a tiny almost imperceptible tilt of her head. It reminded Joe of Derek when he was obviously paying attention to her chemosignals instead of her voice. Joe cleared her throat and shook frizzy hair out of her face.

"And that's the worst back-up plan I've ever heard of."

Kali let out a short laugh, fangs long and pointed as she smiled. "I told you, I'm not a planner. It's harder than it looks, layering plans atop of plans to always have something to fall back on. Just trying to keep Deucalion from discovering how close we'd become was a challenge in itself, not to mention that tenacious little beta of yours."

Maybe Kali was right, Joe thought. There was something about this place, almost like it made it easier to communicate. Kali spoke forthright, but Joe also felt she understood even more than Kali actually said. Or her synapses were kicking into gear after all her memories were back in place. Nevertheless, Joe finally made a connection: "You saved Erica, didn't you? Why?"

"Because I needed you to kill her. I hoped that maybe, if you thought she was already dead, it would become easier for you. The first one is always the hardest." Kali licked her lips, as if she contemplated her next words. "And, if that fell through and you still resisted Deucalion, you would need her by your side to survive. She's strong that one. Loyal."

"It's okay to admit you didn't want to kill her because you like her."

"Fine," Kali almost snarled, but Joe saw the mirth glinting in her eye. "I didn't want to kill her because I liked her. And look where that mercy got me."

It was impossible to avoid looking at the still corpse of Kali still visible in the not-fire. Now Joe could make out another figure laying nearby and a jolt burst through her when she realized that she was looking at herself. Her own limp body, uselessly spread out on the floor, no help to anyone. It helped Joe find her voice again.

"Or, you know, that's karma finally catching up to you. Maybe you shouldn't have become an Alpha in the first place."

"Mm," Kali nodded with flared nostrils, "you mean, maybe I should have let my father kill both you and Roberto like he intended? Don't look so shocked, mon bebe. He was a hard man, Papa Jose, and he did not tolerate weakness in any form. And humans were the worst form of weakness he could think of."

"Wow, wonder where I've heard that one before? Generational trauma is a bitch, huh?"

"Funny. If you must know the whole story, my mother was human. Or a human offspring of werewolf parents, anyway. Usually those born that way are resistent to the bite, but she was still considered pack — not Papa Jose's pack, my grandparents' pack — but my father eventually fell in love with her and stole her away and loved her dearly until she went and did something as stupid as die in childbirth. The child — my baby brother — passed soon thereafter."

"Something broke inside Papa Jose that day, I think, something I couldn't really comprehend until I had a baby of my own. Anyway, when he realized I was pregnant— I was so sick it was impossible to hide it — he gave me the choice of either ending it myself or he'd end it for me. He always taught me that it's kill or be killed — and I chose to kill. It was never about becoming an Alpha. It was about protecting that annoying little bean inside of me that had just developed a heartbeat of its own."

A humorless grin passed over Kali's face as she stretched out her feet, choosing to study her claws rather than look at Joe.

"And I do realize the irony of going through all that trouble only to have your father despise me for it. It doesn't matter. It was for the best. I spent forty-one weeks puking my guts out at every occasion and everyone told me how much better it'd be once I gave birth. How amazing I'd feel. How I'd forget about all the sickness and pain and just be filled with this overwhelming sense of love and affection for this new life I'd brought into the world. And then you finally came, a crying little pup full of blood and bile, and I felt… nothing."

"You looked happy enough to me," Joe muttered, trying in vain to ignore the licking tendrils of darkness clutching at her heart. What Kali described was normal — Joe knew it was normal, it could happen to anyone, no matter the circumstances and it did not mean anything really — but she could not deny the hurt from hearing it since the baby in question was herself.

"I know I returned your memories, but I don't think they went that far back in time."

Without a word, Joe reached back into the pocket of her jeans and dug out the photo. Equally silent, Kali accepted it and Joe would later berate herself for missing this moment of Kali's genuine shock.

"I thought your father would have burned all of these," Kali finally said, not making any notion to return the small polaroid. "How long have you had this?"

"Got it days before you guys kidnapped me."

"Isn't that convenient. Well, it explains a lot, anyway."

"That I've known who you were all along? Yeah."

"And also why you kept remembering what I tried to make you forget. They call it a core memory — it works as an anchor, keeping your mind rooted in the face of a hurricane trying to tear you away. If I'd known, I— I wouldn't have tried so hard. If the hurricane never stops, you see, the anchor will be the thing to sink the ship.

"You're saying my insomnia is because of this 'core memory'?" Joe spat, the disdain clear in her voice even if she tried to keep it neutral. "Because you've been hurricaning away at my stuck brain for months now instead of taking a second to consider if there was any logical reason it wasn't working?"

Kali shrugged. "To be fair, I suspected I was subconsciously holding back because I wanted you to fight back."

"I'm not sure I would call going batshit crazy the same as fighting back, but okay. You do you, I guess. And by the way, post-partum depression and post-partum mania is more common than people think. It's not some unique werewolf thing where you reject your offspring based on vibes or whatever. I swear, so many of my problems would've been solved if you werewolf idiots just accepted that you needed therapy at some point. Like, can you imagine how different life could've been for me? For us?"

"I don't dwell on the 'what if's, mon bebe, and neither should you. Play the hand you're dealt and move on."

"Easy for you to say, being dead and all."

If Joe's harsh words fazed her, Kali did not let it show. Instead she nodded in agreement. "Mm. Limbo is not forever. I have to cross the desert soon."

"You're leaving?"

"I have to, being dead and all."

"What, so this is it?" Joe hated the way her voice cracked, hated the way her tears swelled, and hated the way her heart broke. "Just like that?"

"No. This is not it. Alphas have… a way of meeting again. Ask Sierra, she will know." Kali rose to her feet, somehow standing impossibly tall against the disturbing night sky. "But we have stayed here for too long now. As an Alpha, you have a function to fullfil. You have a purpose. A responsibility. I ask that you manage it better than I did."

Head swimming and heart pounding, Joe got up too, almost swaying on the lack of ground contact. "Please don't go. Not now, not yet. I need your help, I- we have to stop Julia, she has Aunt Mel, she—"

"Together, you and Derek are strong enough to stop her. Together."

"But—"

"We're running out of time, Sefina." A mist had formed over Kali's red eyes, as if she was staring into a faraway sun hidden to Joe. "I have to cross the desert. Tell your father I loved him. And tell Sierra I want to be cremated — no body, no resurrection."

Joe could not even talk. Her stomach turned inside out at the insane finality of it all. This was it. Kali was dead and soon gone.

"That's what I'm getting? That you love my dad and want to be cremated? What about some advice or guidance or, I dunno, a prediction? Something helpful?"

"Hm," Kali said now, with a serene smile lingering on her lips, turning see-through with every passing breath. "I do see four kids for you and Derek. It's a good number. You'll be happy."

And with that, she was gone.

---

Now

Joe woke to an earpiercing scream. One that surpassed all the normal senses and went straight to your core. It shook the building, the foundations, twisting around Joe's spine, squeezing and binding and forcing her to open her eyes only to realize it wasn't coming from her. It wasn't a werewolf's howl at all, but a proper scream, one that could shatter glass.

It went on for an abnormally long time before it finally stopped and Joe took her first proper breath. Sharp, cold and undeniably real. More real than it had felt for months now. Ears still ringing from the scream, the sounds around her slowly filtered in. Hushed voices and whispers, but no more growling or gunshots. Was it over? She got up from the floor, wincing at the healing cuts and bruises all over her, and stopped at the sight of Kali's body.

It wasn't over yet.

"What the hell was that?" Joe asked no one in particular, not realizing the others hadn't noticed her waking up before they jumped at her voice. Cora and Erica stood by the elevator, leaning onto each other in a way that made it hard to tell who was supporting whom. Both looking rough, but both looking alive and healing.

"That," Cora answered, with her usual pragmatism slightly hampered by the dried tears on her cheeks, "was Lydia." She glanced upwards, as if she could see through the multiple floors up to the loft. "The banshee."

"Wow, okay." Not sure what answer she had been expecting, that definitely wasn't it. "Can I just say, screaming after someone dies kind of beats the purpose of a banshee."

"The night's not over yet."

Jimmy was right. Not over yet. He sat on the floor with one hand on Boyd's shoulder, siphoning pain to allow Boyd faster and less painful healing. Boyd's breathing came in long strained sequences and his eyes were almost closed, but blinked open as if he could feel Joe's gaze on him. He gave her a short nod, one she returned. He'd be okay.

Next she met Jimmy's familiar purple glare, and although exhausted, he looked mostly healed too. He slowly raised an eyebrow at her and she got the definite feeling that he knew what had just happened. Or maybe not, as he now dropped his gaze down towards her hands, and she followed suit. No shaking. In fact, they looked dead steady.

That had to count for something, right? Not much, but something. Without meaning to, she couldn't help but take a few steps towards the laid-out body of Kali. A steep prize to pay. Her dad was kneeling next to Kali with his head bent down and barely reacted when Joe put her hand on his shoulder. With a heavy breath, he looked up at her and she saw the wet streaks of tears carving a path in the dust on his face. It was as if he'd aged a decade since she last saw him only minutes ago. Neither saying anything, he just put his hand on top of hers and stayed like that for a second. He didn't look hurt, thank God. At least not physically.

The twins however laid in each their pile on opposite sides of the room. Judging by the unnatural stillness, Julia had gotten to them after she was done with Kali. Either dead or not far from it. Instincts wanted her to rush over and check their vitals, but she suppressed it for now. They weren't pack. Joe shook her head at the strange thought — they'd still been people. Even so, they'd have to wait until she was sure everyone else was okay. Cora and Erica had moved from the wall, standing close by each other as if they wanted to hold hands, but refused out of pride. Jimmy and Boyd remained on the floor. Same with Dad.

And that left Derek.

Who wasn't here. Joe spun around, as if she'd somehow missed him in the chaos, but her senses already confirmed her suspicions. She couldn't smell him. He wasn't here.

He — wasn't — here.

Already she felt the hole open up underneath her, a vortex of despair threatening to suck her in and bury her deep beneath the earth's crust. This could not be happening, not this, not again!

"Where the hell is Derek?"

It was hard to say if they picked up on her chemosignals or just heard the rising panic in her voice, but Cora and Erica stumbled over themselves to explain.

"He left with her."

"No, she took him! Or, made him take her, kind of, but—"

"He didn't have a choice—"

"She went on and on about needing help to kill Deucalion—"

"That she would spare the guardian sacrifices if he helped her—"

"And he didn't want to go—"

"And she was like no, that he had to help her or she'd—"

They talked fast, both interrupting each other and switching between English and Spanish at an escalating pace, almost feeding off of each other's frenzied energy. Joe somehow got the gist of it. Derek had left with Julia.

To be fair, he had left with her to stop Scott and Deucalion. But he had still left with her. Joe's fingers bore into the palms of her hands as she tried to think — really think — before rushing into action for once. Except all her mind could focus on was that he'd left, again, with her.

"She threatened to kill you, kid." Dad's voice cut through the babbling and he let out a little grunt as he pushed himself up to standing. "If he didn't help her. You, me, Mel — she'd kill all of us as the guardian sacrifices if he didn't help her." He pulled at the collar of his shirt, loosening the FBI-standard issue tie and she noticed the sweat stains around his neck. He pulled off the tie and threw it at the ground. "And I told him to go."

"You what?"

"Poor guy was stuck between a crazy druid and a comatose girlfriend. So I made the impossible decision he wasn't able to make. Blame me, not him."

"I'm not— I'm not blaming anyone," Joe mumbled and tried to suffocate those pesky feelings that had erupted in her stomach. Function. She had a function, she had to function."Okay, uh, everyone here is okay, right?"

"Yeah. Except from those guys." Cora nodded her head towards the dead twins. "Their pulse is really weak."

"Wait, what, they're alive?"

Joe's knees skidded on the bloodslick floor as she rushed over to Ethan, the one closest to her. A quick check on his neck confirmed Cora's words — weak, but present. Shit, that complicated things.

Except it didn't, because they were still people and deserved to live.

"Okay, first thing's first: we need to get them to a hospital."

"Hospital won't do these any good," Rob said, nudging the splayed out Aidan over by the far wall with the tip of his shoe. "They need more help than that. Take 'em to Deaton if you want 'em to make it through the night."

"Clock's ticking for the lunar eclipse," Jimmy drawled as he pushed himself of the floor, but not before carefully settling Boyd more comfortably against the wall. "Are they really our main priority?"

"No, that's why we have to split up. You three—" Joe pointed in turn at Cora, Erica and Boyd "—take Lydia and her car and go to Deaton. Get them help and stay there until further notice." Joe raised her voice when both Cora and Erica looked ready to argue. "That's an order, and so help me God if you don't actually listen to me this one goddamn time I will sic Derek on you the first chance I get, okay? Okay."

Okay, that was one thing checked off the list. It was hard to think with the word function function function going on a constant loop inside her head, but she didn't have a choice.

"Um, Jimmy, we think — or know — that Julia has the guardian sacrifices in a root cellar close to a Nemeton. Derek and Peter knew where it was before, but apparently Talia took that memory," Joe couldn't help the way she touched her own neck as she said this, "and Peter insuinated that you might have an idea where it is."

Jimmy shrugged where he was trying in vain to patch up his shirt to cover more than a quarter of his torso. "I have more than an idea. I have the exact coordinates."

"You what?"

"After I was released from custody due to a complete lack of probable cause," Jimmy gave Rob a pointed look, "I went back to the apartment and finished the calculations. Unfortunately, that's where the Alphas got me seeing as someone," this time it was Joe who was at the receiving end of the pointed look, "had decided to shoot up the doorframe, thus effectively breaking the seal of mountain ash lining that kept the apartment safe."

"Okay, one, my bad. Hallucinating, Kate, blah blah blah. Two, you have the exact coordinates where that crazy bitch is keeping Aunt Mel and the others and," Joe's voice rose to an uncomfortable high pitch, so much that Rob put his hand on her shoulder to keep her in check, "you don't think you should've lead with that?"

"No, because I'm not an idiot, Joe. I already sent the coordinates via text message to everyone I could think of who could be of help, including that Stiles-kid. And yourself, but I suppose your phone is out of order again?"

"Yeah, it's like full of mud and stuff," Erica supplied helpfully, making Jimmy give Joe a superior look. "What, it's true! You go through phones faster than Jimmy does detergent."

"Less talking, more moving," Joe snapped, trying not to fall for the temptation of bickering. It would be so much easier to stay here and talk shit and pretend nothing else was happening. "Get those two in the car please. Jim, Dad, I need you to find the Nemeton and free Aunt Mel and the others."

While Jim just nodded — thank God for his way of understanding the world — her dad hesitated. "What about you?"

"Scott," she said, hoping the name would make things clear. Apparently so, as her dad gave a curt nod similar to Jimmy. "But I- I don't have the right senses, so, uh, do you think you can track his phone to get a location? I know it's not protocol or, er, legal, but—"

To her surprise, her dad nodded again and had already pulled out his own phone. "To hell with protocol. Besides, don't think I'm gonna have a job after this anyway." It took her dad a suspiciously short time to get a set of coordinates and Joe wondered if he had installed some tracking software in Scott's phone and, maybe, in hers as well. Whatever. Problem for another day.

"Old distillery, up by the creek— Joe, wait, be careful!"

The same second her dad had shown the map, Joe took off. She knew where that was. Back when Kali had been Alpha for her pack, Talia had arranged a summit for most of the friendly American packs and they'd met in the abandoned distillery.

Wet asphalt slapped her feet raw as she ran and ran and tried to figure out how she knew that. Had Kali ever told her that or had it just been siphoned into her brain along with the rest of the Alpha-powers? Joe gritted her teeth and focused her energy into her legs instead of her mind. No time to think — compartmentalize, file away for later.

Hopefully there'd be a later.

The lights of nighttime Beacon Hills streaked past her, blurring into long strands of orange and yellow while her bare feet drummed into the concrete that soon gave away to dirt and moss. The pitch black forest offered no hindrance — her red eyes made everything glow in the dark and her body moved on instincts alone. Did she have a plan? No. Did she have a weapon? No. Did she have the consuming urge to rip someone's head off? Yes. For once, Joe decided, she would relent to her instincts and hope they knew better than her sleep-deprived mind.

The distillery sat lonesome and forlorn at the end of an overgrown dirt road and gravel flew as Joe skidded to a halt to get her bearings. It seemed completely abandoned, exccept for a car parked lopsidedly behind a large oak a few hundred yards ahead — Derek's truck. They were here.

Some instinct had her pause — wait — try to listen or smell to prepare, but what use was that with her stupid useless hearing? With the wind whipping around in the trees, she couldn't hear anything other than her own heartbeat thudding in her ears. At least until a loud roar sliced into her heart — Derek. He was fighting.

Joe's pulse skipped and somehow her legs went from zero to hundred, propelling her forward like a canon ball until she reached the side of the building. Not thinking — no time to think — she burst through the walls themselves in a shower of splinters and nails and landed in a crouch in the middle of an ongoing fight. Scott on one side, Julia and Derek on the other.

Derek, fully wolfed out, stopped mid-stride on his way to attack Scott. On some level, Joe registered this, but it processed so fast that she had already flung her head back in a furious roar. Not a howl, not a scream — a roar.

With another snarl originating somewhere in her very soul, Joe threw herself at Derek. The force flung both of them into the opposite wall of the distillery, hitting and breaking a thick beam with their bodies. Equal pain, both let out muffled grunts. Up, up, up. Joe sprang to her feet, ready for Derek's first swipe at her legs and span around to kick him down instead. Fists up, bouncing on the balls of her feet, she drew her leg back to gain momentum and—

"Well, someone's certainly learned to make an entrance."

The voice, almost mangled beyond recognition, froze Joe in place. Almost afraid of what she would find, she twisted her head towards the source. "Deucalion."

He smiled — or at least she thought he did — because with his blackened skin and twisted wolf features it was hard to tell. This was the demon wolf. The shade of his skin surpassed anything natural and somehow made him almost invisible even to her enhanced sight. And based on where he stood, Derek hadn't been attacking Scott after all.

Mortified, Joe turned slowly back to Derek's bleeding face to explain and was met with a rock-hard fist to her jaw. At the same time, Jennifer sent some kind of force field towards Deucalion, but Joe didn't get to see the outcome as Derek followed up with a front-kick that hurled her into the depths of the distillery.

No pain. A part of Joe's brain screamed at her to notice it. He kicked her, but she felt nothing. He still kicked her, another part countered — wilder, feral, furious — he attacked her.

Joe scrambled back to her feet, bruises and cuts healing faster than she could experience it, and put her hands up as Derek advanced in a predatorial manner. The shadows gave his morphed face monstrous features, the primitive part of her brain lingering on the sharp fangs and elongated claws. He growled.

As a warning? Joe had no idea, but next thing she knew, he sprang at her. All two-hundred pounds of enraged Alpha werewolf in his prime, claws out and mouth locked in a terrible roar. He attacked. Too fast for Joe to dodge, he tackled her and she smacked into the ground with a rib-breaking bang. The impact knocked the wind out of her, not helped when Derek straddled her chest and raised his clawed hand.

Before it reached her face, she grabbed his wrist and let out a heavy grunt at the effort of keeping him at bay.

"I thought you attacked Scott!" she spat, hoping the rational part of him was in there somewhere. It served her right, didn't it, that he finally decided to fight her at the worst possible occasion. Not that she didn't deserve it, of course, with how many times she had forced him to fight her before. "Derek, I didn't even see him, it's dark as shit in here and— "

Her words disappeared in an eye-watering roar. It raised her hackles and adrenaline to a record height. Unable to even think, she could only watch Derek's enraged face — so beautiful and perfect in its every form that she wanted to scream — twist in deep-seated anger as he leaned down towards her with her still holding his wrist far from her face.

"Fight back."

Impossible to tell if the command came from him or from her own spiraling mind, but she did as told. Tearing his arm to the side, she toppled them over and managed to get up. He was twice her size — she needed distance and space if she wanted any chance to win. Balanced stance, hands up, she faced him as she should — as an equal.

The shadows on his face deepened his snarling mouth, almost so it looked like he was smiling.

No time to think, only time to act! In a blur only rivalled by her fight with her mother, Joe tested the limits of her newfound strength and gave Derek a recap of everything she had learned in the desert. It might not be enough, but it was all she had. Derek proved a worthwhile opponent. He dodged more than he blocked, with every time he did block sending shockwaves into Joe's limbs without the tell-tale ache accompanying.

It didn't mean he stopped attacking — quite the opposite as he showcased a set of moves she had never seen from him before that had her on the defense more than the offense. And while she did have those intense months of training with Kali, Derek had had a lifetime to hone his skills and Joe finally considered the fact that she could lose.

Except he wasn't letting her feel any pain, not even her own. Was this the druid's work? Or was this all Derek?

Somehow, their fighting had spun them around and cornered Joe into some old shelves. Distance and space, she needed distance and space. With her mouth locked in a grim snarl, she sent her fist flying towards Derek's face. Too slow, as Derek flung his arm up and she hit his elbow.

"Ow, motherfucker!"

The sharp pain tore through Joe's knuckles and up to her wrist and she continued to swear as she bent over to cradle it. The first real pain — indeniably intense — and it came from hitting his elbow? What?

In the corner of her eye, she saw Derek make a grab for her, and she bit her teeth together and tried to forget about her aching wrist. She bent out of his reach and went for a hook with her unharmed arm.

"Joe. Wait." Derek's hands grabbed her arms with embarrassing ease and held them in a vice-like grip. "Joe!"

Heaving for breath and eyes watering from her stinging knuckles, she noticed that his face was human again, not even a red eye in sight. Instead it was locked in a worried frown.

"You okay?"

"What are you—" Joe tried to tear her arms free, but they did not even budge an inch. Instead it sent a new flurry of pain up from her hand to her elbow. Hissing through her. Teeth and not caring that she sounded like a petulant child, Joe snapped:"Ow. Why does that hurt so bad? Do you have steel elbow-caps or something?"

Derek, true to his nature, seemed unfazed by her annoyance and shook his head. "The eclipse."

"What?"

"We've lost our powers."

"What?"

"The eclipse. We've—"

"Yeah, I get that, but if we've lost all our powers, why," Joe tried to pull at her arms again, "are you still this freakishly strong?"

He blinked at her, eyebrows barely lifting in confusion. "Muscles. I work out."

"Yeah, okay, I mean, that checks out." Joe, a bit miffed in the face of this perfectly reasonable explanation that she probably could have figured out on her own, looked everywhere but him. She lowered her arms as he let her go, an unspoken cease-fire called between them. "I guess."

"You okay?" Derek asked again, the worry frown present between his brows. He reached for her jaw, fingertips brushing over her skin as if to inspect her. "Sorry."

"Guess I had it coming," Joe muttered and tried to ignore the way her breath shivered at his touch. "I mean, I attacked you first."

"You did. I'm still sorry. I had to make her believe I was on her side, that we were really fighting instead of just taking me out of the equation."

"You couldn't have just told me that?"

"I didn't want you to hold back."

"Wouldn't have minded holding back a bit," Joe muttered and stretched out her hurt hand. "I've forgotten what this feels like. Son of a bitch, that hurts."

"Sorry."

"Dude, I punched you. Jesus, I'm still out of breath. No wonder you thought I was useless as a human. How long are we like this?"

"Fifteen minutes or so."

"Wait, if we're like this, so is Scott, right? We have to go get him—"

Derek grabbed her arm before she could take off and Joe could not have interpreted the look on his face in a million years. "Yeah, yeah, we will. Uh."

Uh? Out of every sound and expression Derek had ever made, Joe could not remember hearing uh come out of his mouth before. Was he stalling? Was he still under Julia's spell? Uh?

"Okay." Derek sucked in a deep breath, casting worried glances towards the front of the distillery where it had grown eerily quiet. "Just, uh, hang on for one second. Please. I need to tell you something. This was not how I wanted this to happen and this is really bad timing, but…" Apparently having made up his mind, he turned his attention back to her, the unwavering scrutiny almost concerning in its intensity. "The eclipse makes us lose all our powers."

"Yeah, I think we've established that fact. Did you get a concussion when I threw you into that bench back there?"

"No, I mean, all our powers."

"Didn't have that many to begin with, so—"

"All our powers, Joe. Including the mate bond."

Derek reached for her hand and Joe let him take it, the warmth of his skin sinking in along with the realisation that that was all there was. Warmth, human warmth. No tingling, no scent, no connection. No mate bond.

"The mate bond is a power," Joe whispered, repeating Kali's phrase under her breath. "And the eclipse takes away our powers."

"Yes. We're not bonded right now, Joe. We're humans, for about twelve more minutes. And I hope you're good at multi-tasking because that means that you've got about twelve minutes left to figure out your feelings without any interference. Not from me, not from the moon, not from anything."

Derek had a soft crease in his brow and slightly parted lips, revealing the slightest hint of his front teeth. His whole chest lifted as he drew another deep breath, giving her a look that almost reminded her of pleading. Joe tried to wrap her head around what the hell was going on, the sudden whiplash from fighting him to whatever this was.

"I already have mine figured out."

His words shook a bee-hive into her stomach. An incessant buzzing that filled her whole chest, spread out into every part of her, and threatened to squish her heart into pieces. Why did he keep looking at her like this? Why couldn't she stop looking at him like this?

"And I'm saying this as me. Feeling this as me. Only me."

Joe had no idea what her face was doing, if her confusion or anguish or desperate hope reached into ever crevasse and painted a picture he could understand. No mate bond, no powers — he didn't hear her heartbeat or read her scent. He had to rely on human senses only and Joe could only pray he got it right. Or that she got it right.

"All of me, feeling it as vivid as I feel the heart in my chest and the blood in my veins. As real, as the ground I stand on and the air I breathe. As powerful, as the ocean tides and the setting sun."

What was happening what was happening what was going on what what what

"I love you, Joe."

I

love

you

I

love

you

Even though she watched his lips form the words and heard them in his voice clear as day, it took approximately five business days before she could even breathe again. A part of her rejoiced the fact that he couldn't hear her heartbeat, smell her scent, feel the screaming surge of joy and love blooming in her chest — another part desperately wanted him to feel all of it. Hear her heart thunder so hard it would make him deaf, feel her pulse go at lightening speed, taste her scent in his lungs.

Neither said anything for so many heartbeats she wondered if time had stopped. If the universe itself had succumbed to the significance of this moment and paused in their honor. Or if it was just Derek who waited for her to say anything in the face of the most soul-baring confession one could make.

"This is all me?" Her question came out somewhere between a hoarse croak and a revered whisper. "Just me?"

He nodded and that was all Joe needed. Deep down she knew — she had known for a long time — that this was all her. All her feelings, good and bad and beautiful and amazing, were her own. Including this.

Joe tugged on Derek's hand, desperate to get him closer and terrified to do so at the same time. Thank God, he understood her intention. Thank God, he closed the small gap between them. And thank God, he let her grab him in a fervent and desperate and wholehearted kiss.

It should not be possible, Joe thought as his lips closed onto hers in the same way his hands grabbed hers, that something could feel this right. That something could feel this destined and certain while being anything but. No mate bond, no connection, and yet her heart ached for him ever more intently. The heat of his skin under her fingertips, the scratch of stubble on his cheeks, the sensation of his breath in her lungs — she loved him so much. Instead of swimming in his scent, she drowned at his taste — smooth and warm like his mouth, relentless and deafening like his hold on her.

Joe felt her heartbeat in her lips, in the tip of her tongue that she ran along his, in her fingertips still clutching his head like a lifeline.

Neither willing to relent first, the kiss did not break apart as much as it drifted away, slivers of air travelling across wet lips less than a hair width's apart. Joe's head had been spinning for a while, but now it threatened to lift off from its own rotational force unless Derek held her back. She allowed herself to drop her forehead toward him, rest it there where his breath fluttered over her frizzy hair.

Finally, when she caught some semblance of breath, she said what her heart screamed: "I love you too."

"You still have a few minutes to go," Derek murmured from above and wrapped his arms around her. He sounded as out of breath as her and locked against him, she felt his heart beat in synch with hers.

"Don't need them."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. It's kind of intense."

"I know."

"We really have to go check on Scott."

"Yeah."

It was hard to tell whether it was the lunar eclipse itself or Joe's lack of red eyes, but the distillery seemed to bathe in a sickly yellow light. Outside, the storm continued to rage on, bolts of lightening making the entire night sky glow. Joe and Derek reached the front of the distillery just as a threatening silhouette sauntered through the open doors.

Joe wished it would have stayed as a silhouette. Instead, it strode towards them, a figure that would have been deemed to horrific for a horror movie. Julia. Jennifer. The Darach. Whatever you wanted to call her, it gave no justice to the gruesome bald head slotted with large scars that could only come from the sharp claws of a werewolf. Whatever reconstructive surgery they had attempted had only made her features look halfway human — her face reminded Joe of a Picasso painting, lopsided and distorted.

With a guttural shriek, the thing shot towards Scott and threw him into some old barrels. Joe didn't even hear her own voice shouting his name before she dove after him, Derek close on her tail.

"Scott! Please please please be okay," Joe chanted and grabbed his arms to turn him the right side up, almost falling down herself with the effort. "Jesus Christ, were you always this heavy? Scott!"

"I'm okay," he groaned and tried to get up with Joe's aid. "Joe, we have to stop her, she has Mom."

"I know, I know, I know," Joe mumbled in return, not even sure what she could do now during the eclipse. Had she even had a plan when she came here? What had Kali said? That Joe and Derek would be strong enough to stop her together, but there was no together now during the lunar eclipse. Joe winced at the sound of crashing and more gruesome snarls that came from the front when Julia got her hands on Deucalion.

At Scott's side, they watched in horror as Julia flung Deucalion to the floor like a rag doll. And it didn't stop there. In a few quick strides, Julia got her mangled hand onto Deucalion's head and smashed it into the floor. And again. And again. Over and over until it made a wet squelching sound with every strike and Deucalion's body went limp.

"Jennifer!"

Joe's heart stopped at the sound of Derek's voice. What was this idiot doing now?

"He doesn't know," Derek said, casting a short glance over his shoulder towards Joe as if trying to tell her it would be okay. Like that helped at all.

Julia snarled in response: "Know what?"

"What you really look lke. He knows the cost of bringing Kali," the name sent a dagger through Joe's spine, "into his pack, but he's never seen the price you paid."

What was Derek getting at? Joe and Scott looked at each other, both equally unsure to if Derek had a plan or just stalled for time. The lunar eclipse might only last for a few more minutes, but Julia only needed a few more minutes to kill all of them.

"No." Julia sounded like she was dreaming. Delirious even. "No, he hasn't."

It was hard to tell what happened next. Julia placed her hand onto Deucalion's eyes and a second later, he screamed. A grown man's scream was not for the faint-hearted and Joe almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"Turn to me!" Julia shouted above Deucalion, but somehow commanding all of them to look at her. To really see her. Joe's vision blurred, seeing both the gruesome beast and the pretty brunette at the same time. "Turn to me!"

And they all turned to her, just as she lost her footing and stumbled back. She flopped to the floorboards, her whole body swaying and her head lolling around to watch Derek walk towards her.

Unbalanced and unhinged, Julia groaned: "What is this?"

"Healing him made you weak," Derek explained, probably more for Joe's and Scott's benefit than Julia. "Just like healing Cora did to me. You won't have your strength for at least a few minutes."

"Then you do it," Julia said with a serene smile, staring like a lovesick schoolgirl up at Derek. "You kill him."

"No."

"What?"

"Like my mother used to say. I'm a predator, I don't have to be a killer."

Derek advanced on Julia, his arms strained at his side and Joe realized he was subconsciously trying to get his claws out. Except there were no claws and no fangs and no strength. Okay, some strength because apparently Derek worked out, but would it be enough?

"Let them go."

Joe caught a glimpse of Julia's expression and her whole body went uh-oh. "Uh, are you sure about the whole 'no power for a few minutes'-thing, Derek?"

"Let them go," Derek repeated, not paying Joe any attention. Not that it helped.

Before either of them knew what happened, Julia flung her arm out and an invisible force sent Derek into the wall. Joe braced for the contact before remembering that the eclipse was still going strong. Shit. Julia forced herself up from the ground and stalked after Derek. Shit!

"Stay here," Joe ordered Scott, waving at him to shush his protests. At the same time, her hands ransacked the shelves near them, trying to find a weapon. "Stay here, hide, wait."

"What are you looking for?"

"Iron! Any iron! It's like a magic repellant thing, I think it'd break through Julia's defence, if I could just find any. Even a nail or a bucket or—"

"Is this iron?" Scott held up a rusted horseshoe.

"The best kind there is!" Joe snatched it from his unresisting grip and weighed it in her hand. Could she use it as a knuckleduster? No, too narrow. Throw it at Julia? No, it was too light and besides, then she'd only get one shot. She needed a real weapon, something hard-hitting and solid. Her eyes fell on her bare feet and then onto Scott's sneakers. "I need your sock."

"My what?"

"Your sock! Less questions, more doing, gimme your sock!"

Ignoring his protests, she wrestled Scott's sneaker and sock off his foot. Joe shoved the horseshoe into the graying tennis sock and grabbed the other end in her fist, creating a makeshift mace that she prayed would work. If nothing else, the smell would be enough to send anyone into a coma.

Joe sprinted in the direction of Derek's painful grunts and found him. He sat slumped against a wall, blood running from the side of his mouth, with Julia panting over him. No powers be damned, Joe still saw red.

Emitting a battle-cry from the depth of her core, Joe brandished the horseshoe-sock and clocked Julia in the back of the head. A disgusting crunch from her skull and a satisfying scream from Julia, who tumbled to the side.

"What?" She span around to stare at Joe, clutched the back of her head with fingers coming back bloody. "How?"

"Pure iron, bitch!" Joe snarled and hit her again. The hefty horseshoe slammed into Julia's raised arm, surpassing every attempt of magical blockade, and Julia let out a hard grunt. "Told you I'd find something that works! Now — get — the — fuck — away — from — him!"

To be fair, she only landed every other hit. To be fair, she was only human now. To be fair, she had been running on fumes so long that this was powered by nothing more than constantly generated rage. Her ears rang with Julia's harsh screams, her eyes ran with tears and sweat, and her mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood. The muscles in her arm begged for rest, but Joe did not stop. Would not stop. Could not stop.

Again and again she struck the woman — back in the glamour of Jennifer Blake — and barely heard her own voice hiss: "This is for Heather. This is for Ryan. This is for Emily. Kyle. Jonathan. Adrian. Debrah. Kelly. Nicolas. Tara. Adam. Deaton. Marina. Lydia. The Sheriff. Argent. Sarah. Aunt Mel. Scott. Cora. Dad. Mom. Derek."

The list went on and on, as did her attacks. She had so much to answer for, so many lives ruined, so many lives destroyed. Joe wanted nothing more than to make her pay, to make her hurt as much as she had hurt others. Again and again, she struck, vision blurring between Jennifer and Julia and Kate and not caring for the difference. She saw nothing but red — red, from the splatters of Julia's blood coating Joe's face. She saw nothing but white — white, from the screaming pain from Julia's throat. She saw nothing but black — black, from the creeping edge of collapse.

"Joe!"

"This is for me!" Joe screamed, raised her arm again and swung the horseshoe down, not caring what she hit. "For what I was supposed to be, for what I could have been, for what I could have had!"

"Joe!" Derek yelled again and grabbed her arm before she could strike anew. He forced her back, twisting her arm down. "Joe, stop!"

In all honesty, she probably wouldn't have been able to lift her arm again or even remain upright if Derek hadn't held her. Some hidden part of her still struggled to break free, to finish the job, but Derek and his stupid muscles did not relent.

"You're not a killer, Joe!"

"Let me go!" Joe screamed, but it changed as it came from her lungs, going from a scream to a roar. The eclipse had ended. Her eyes flared in dark red and the full power of the moon blasted into her body, making every atom in her vibrate with a newfound energy.

At the same time as Derek lost his grip on Joe, the bruised and bloody Julia threw herself back and flung a handful of black powder into the air. It shaped into a perfect circle above her and slammed into the ground just before Joe could reach her. Mountain ash. With yet another growl, Joe punched the protective forcefield. As expected, it didn't yield.

Which left them at a stalemate.

Julia stumbled to her feet and it was a small consolation that she didn't appear to be healing. The vivid bruises and angry slashes from the iron horseshoe seemed to circumvent her magic and glamor, leaving her gasping for breath and grunting of pain. She still got up though, her eyes shining like black ink and mouth locked in a ferocious grin.

"Say goodbye to your aunt, Delgado!"

Joe couldn't move. But she didn't have to. Flying out of the shadows, Scott tore forwards with eyes glowing and thrust his hands at the protective field surrounding Julia. But where Joe's hands had skidded across the surface, Scott managed to get his fingers into the field somehow. Not all the way, but definitely further than Joe.

"You've tried this before, Scott," Julia said in a voice that probably sounded confident if you didn't see her eyes flickering about. She wasn't sure. "I don't remember you having much success."

Uncertain. Afraid. The fear glowed in her eyes. It explained why she took a few steps backwards into the circle when Scott grunted and increased his efforts. From her vantage point, still halfway held by Derek, Joe saw Scott's veins protrude and his muscles flex as he forced himself a little further into the circle. Again, it seemed like time had a mind of its own and Joe could not say if it took seconds or hours for Scott to drive himself into the protective circle, sparks flying around his arms, a permanent growl lodged in his throat.

It hurt him, no doubt about it. It cost him a lot — hopefully not too much — and Joe could do nothing but watch him, along with Derek and Deucalion and Julia. Watch him become something more than he had been already. Watch him reach a new potential. Watch him become an Alpha. A True Alpha.

His eyes flashed red and the mountain ash protecting Julia shattered like a crystal glass. The blow swept Julia off her feet and she crawled back on the ground, staring at Scott with frightened, wide eyes.

"How?"

"I'm an Alpha now," Scott said. At least Joe thought it was Scott. Gone was the juvenile swagger in his tone, replaced with an adult evenness she had never heard before. His face had morphed into that of a werewolf, but there was something different about him. Something hard to pinpoint. Something strong. "Whatever you're doing to cause this storm, make it stop. Or I'll kill you myself. I don't care what it does to the color of my eyes."

"Scott," Joe started, the irony not lost on her. "Don't—"

Before Joe could finish her plea, Deucalion came up beside her. "It won't change the color of mine, so allow me."

In two quick strides, Deucalion crossed the distance to Julia and slit her throat.

Just like that. No preamble, no gloating, no hesitation; nothing but pure efficient murder. Like he had done so many times before. Just like Peter, just like Ennis, and just like Kali. Kill or be killed.

The wind stopped howling and chills ran down Joe's spine at the sudden silence, only punctured by Julia's gasping and gurgling. Rivers of blood streamed from her throat and she clutched her hand against the open wound, as if she could stem the flow somehow. A new gush of red pumped out with every new heartbeat, wasting away her power, making her shift back to her monstrous shape in front of them.

She did not beg for mercy. Maybe she couldn't. Maybe she didn't want to. Maybe she had accepted that this was it.

Maybe it was over.

The gurgling stopped and Julia Baccari's body fell still. It was over. Except it wasn't, was it? Deucalion's claws still dripped with blood, even if his face was back to human and his eyes bright and seeing.

"You're going to leave Beacon Hills."

Joe's head snapped up at Scott's strong voice, seeing him giving Deucalion an even look. The words span around in her head, twisting and morphing into what he could possibly mean, because it couldn't mean what she thought.

"You're letting him go?" Her voice, nowhere near as strong as Scott's, sounded borderline hysterical. "After everything he's done?" When Scott gave no answer, Joe turned to Derek, who seemed deep in thought. "After everyone he's hurt?"

"My mother said you were a man of vision once." Derek finally spoke, also addressing Deucalion while Joe's inner organs plummeted to her knees. "And maybe," Derek squeezed her hand, "if we let you go, you can be that man again?"

"And if you're not, then having your eyesight back won't matter, because you'll never see us coming."

"No," Joe said before Deucalion got the chance to speak. Before he got the chance to twist and scheme and manipulate his way out of paying for everything he'd done. "This is insane. We can't just let him leave. He's a monster, he's—"

"No one else is going to die tonight." Scott's tone and stature both indicated a finality in his words. "And nothing good has ever come out of revenge. Everyone makes mistakes."

Mistakes. So many lives ruined, so much pain and misery, all because of Deucalion's mistakes. Outnumbered, Joe looked back and forth between Scott and Derek. But whatever fight she had left in her drained at the sight of Derek's soft expression. Now, of all times, he wanted to give mercy a go?

"Fine," Joe said and threw her hands up. "Fine, but for the record, I think this is a terrible idea and I'm calling it right now, this is gonna come back and bite us in the ass. What the hell are you smiling about, you narcissistic psycho?"

"Kali would have been very proud of you."

Time stopped again as Joe fought to get air into her lungs. The words could have sent her into a frenzy. They could have sent her into a coma. They could have clawed their way into her heart and suffocated it. They didn't.

"I'm glad you got your eyesight back, because you're gonna have to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder. You're gonna have to see how many lives you've snuffed out and ruined. You're gonna have to see the full extent of your insane power trip and I'm glad Scott wants to show you mercy because that means you're gonna have to live with what you've done for the rest of your long, miserable existence. May you never know the warmth of another pack, may you never find peace in any den, may you never have your howl answered nor your thirst quenched nor your hunger sated. May you rot in an unmarked grave."

Her pulse thundered in her ears as she kept fighting to catch her breath. It seemed like her words had a real impact on Deucalion — his face had grown thoughtful and still — but then again, Deucalion was good at seeming. Not sure what she expected, she was still surprised when Deucalion gave her a short nod and… left. Again, with no preamble or hesitation, he exited the distillery and slipped into the night. Probably finding it wise to get away before Scott and Derek came to their senses.

"What the hell was that?" Scott asked as they all gathered in the doorway to watch Deucalion walk away. "That whole 'may this and may that'-thing?"

"The cast of an Omega," Derek said matter-of-factly and raised his eyebrow at Joe. "Considered a fate worse than death."

Joe just shrugged, hoping she didn't have to explain where the words had come from. It was starting to occur to her that the Alpha spark contained more than just powers and colorful eyes. They stood there side by side in the doorway, all three Alphas of Beacon Hills. What a fucking shitshow, Joe thought, and almost wished the wind would pick back up instead of this complete stillness that had befallen the night.

And out of everything that could break the eery quiet, it had to be Scott's buzzing cell-phone. It broke the trance-like state surrounding the distillery, letting them go from its spell and back to their lives. Scott walked a few paced onto the road and answered his phone while Joe took an unbalanced step backward, right into Derek's bulk. Neither said anything as Joe turned to face him, to let her head fill with his scent instead of the blood stench, to see his already healed face instead of the mutilated dead one lying on the floor behind them.

What was she supposed to say? Asking if he was okay seemed superfluous, but she had not even finished the thought before she heard Scott on the phone asking:

"Hey, are you okay?"

Joe's lip twitched — god bless teenagers — and she met Derek's amused gaze, probably thinking the same thing. Her eyes burned from keeping them open and Joe knew a crash was imminent. When was the last time she slept? The question bobbed at the forefront of her mind now that everything else had ended. In truth, now with the adrenaline free-falling and her muscles cooling, she wanted nothing more than to just rest her head against Derek and close her eyes.

Maybe she ought to just follow her instincts for once? Joe drew a deep breath and tilted her head, only to catch sight of the completely empty floor inside the distillery. Her heartrate shot up, causing Derek to turn as well and with the way his skin paled, she knew she wasn't imagining it.

Julia was gone.

"I told you we had to start making sure people really die around here," Joe muttered, on the verge of tears from sheer exhaustion. "Shit. Come on, she couldn't have gone far."

"She didn't."

A voice she would recognize anywhere came from the dark trees and sure enough, a pair of familiar purple eyes appeared a few seconds later. Jimmy, still in his tattered shirt, sauntered out of the forest with blood dripping from his hands. Not his claws, his hands.

"She won't be a problem anymore."

Jimmy's answer came before Joe could think of the question. A million more piled up in her throat, none making it to her lips. Again, she didn't need to. Jimmy already knew.

"Here, there's someone who wants to talk to you."

Joe accepted the phone in his outstretched hand and put it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hi, sweetie. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Joe said, phone already falling from her hand as her knees buckled. Aunt Mel. Aunt Mel was okay. Everything was okay. Or would be okay. Thank God. Darkness closed in along Joe's vision, her exhausted muscles gave up, and her speech slurred intelligebly. "I'm fine. I just need to— just need to sit down."

Her eyes closed and she gave into the collapse. Someone caught her before she hit the ground. It was Derek. It would always be Derek.