#peter jackson we are on shaky ground

[crystalizedirongoblin]

OK I just read an ask about Derek being the one to kill Jennifer (Peter's nurse), and I didn't know that was a theory but I just had to go back and rewatch that scene.

(I am not a medical professional, so feel free to correct me, and also, this is TV, but assuming that human bodies work the same in TW than in real life…)

In Wolf's Bane, we see how Derek elbows her, she falls to the ground, a few seconds later, when Stiles gets to her, we can see there's a pool of blood under her, seemingly from her head. She also has a nosebleed, but considering she's facing the other way, it's unlikely that's the source. Taking into account hos she fell, she got hit hard enough to at minimum break her nose, turn around, and fall unconscious facing the other way.

Here we can see her while Stiles crawls away from the fight (and I can't see any movement, but the camera is shaky and she's not on screen for long)

Then Stiles leaves, and Peter and Derek fight, and then Peter goes to her and takes her car keys from her pocket. Regardless of who was the one to kill her, this is the last time we see her alive.

We know that the next scene happens three days later (In Co-captain, right after the game, Jackson reminds Scott that he has seventy-two hours to get him the bite, and says "three days makes it just in time for the Winter Formal")

So in Code Breaker, when Peter takes Stiles, the body of the nurse is in the trunk, she's dressed exactly the same as she was in the hospital, which doesn't really make sense, I mean, there is no way she would have gone to work again after that, even if only to avoid the question of "where is your comatose patient?"

She has this awful splotches on her arms, they could be bruises, if she died with her arm in a position where that was on the floor, it could be a sign of blood pooling there after stopping circulation.

Or, apparently, they could be a sign of early-stage decomposition. Apparently the blue fingertips could also mean she died from blood loss or strangulation (but don't quote me on that)

From the way Peter moves her arm out of the way, we know her body is not stiff. Rigor mortis sets about 2-6 hours after death, and lasts for 24-78 hours, so she has to have died either less than 2-6 hours or over 24-78 hours before this scene.

And then Stiles sees the body, and he reacts with a gasp, and this is Peter's face:

This is not the face of someone who's gloating or who's happy to be scaring a teenager, I think this is surprise.

Then he closes the trunk, says "I got better" and never mentions her again.

So... It's likely she did die a couple days ago, Peter stashed her in the trunk of her own car, never told Derek anything, and never mentioned it again.

(Now, considering Peter got set on fire and killed right after that, what the hell happened to her? Did anyone ever find her?? Where did Peter even park her car? He was already waiting for his dramatic entrance inside of the Hale house by the time everyone else got there, and I couldn't see her car anywhere)

[venactricisfics]

Bound by Instinct: A Teen Wolf Story

Chapter Sixteen

chapters

Twice tonight, I had been caged in. Both literally and now figuratively. It couldn’t be just a coincidence. Gerard left clues that led us to that warehouse. It was connected. 

It had all been connected. The fire at the Hale house, the death of my pack. It was all part of this old man’s sick need to destroy anything that could overpower him.

“I’m done hiding from you. You want to take me, give it you’re best fucking shot,” I called out. 

“Selene would be proud,” Gerard called back. “She said something similar before I killed her and the rest of your pack.”

I didn’t know my mother’s human name. Before all of this, I didn’t know she was part human, that I was. But I knew he was talking about her. 

“We never hurt anyone,” I called back to him. “We hunted deer for food. Didn’t even bother with people.”

“That’s the conundrum, isn’t it,” Gerard stated, “you couldn’t truly be a Sigma until everything was taken from you. So you should be thanking me for giving you your power.”

“Power,” I muttered. “That’s what this is? A power play?”

Peter's hand was suddenly on my arm, grounding me, steadying me. His voice was a low growl in my ear, “He’s trying to get under your skin. Make you reckless.”

Too late.

“Yeah,” I whispered back to Peter, eyes fixed on the dark between the trees, “but now he’s made it personal.”

Gerard’s voice rang out again, smug and composed, “You don’t get to shape legends without sacrifice, Nova. You were born special, but you weren’t forged until I lit the match.”

My blood ran cold.

He had lit the match.

He didn’t just kill my pack. He made sure I’d survive it. That I’d remember it. That I’d carry it like a scar carved into my soul. Not just a Sigma by nature—but by design.

I took a shaky step forward, but my voice didn’t waver. “You think you made me? You think burning my life down gave you some kind of control over me?”

I let the shift rise beneath my skin, golden light flickering in my eyes. “You didn’t forge me, Gerard. You just showed me what I’m capable of surviving.”

Peter chuckled darkly, fangs just barely showing. “She’s not your creation, old man. She’s your reckoning.”

Gerard’s laugh echoed from every direction. “Then come, little reckoning. Let’s see if the Sigma wolf can finish what her mother couldn’t.”

I could feel Scott and Malia behind me. My family. My pack.

I squared my shoulders, eyes burning bright.

“No more running,” I said quietly. “No more cages. No more hiding.”

Peter’s claws slid free beside me.

Scott’s voice came, firm and sure, “Then we end this.”

And somewhere in the dark, Gerard stepped forward.

Just where we wanted him.

Whipping sounds carried through the forest along with the grunts of the other hunters and the sounds of them toppling to the ground. 

“Jackson,” Scott said softly beside me. “And Liam.” 

Derek tilted his head. “Erica and Boyd, too.” 

The backup plan, just in case plans A, B, and C fell apart. At least, that was how Stiles explained it when he came up with this elaborate plan. 

“I’m a big fan of plan A,” he had said, “I’d like to stick to that one.”

I wanted plan A to work, but I was thankful Stiles had thought ahead. 

The sounds of the fight grew louder—snaps of bone, snarls of wolves, hunters yelling as they hit the forest floor one by one. For once, the chaos didn’t rattle me. It felt like clarity. Like momentum had finally shifted in our favor.

“Of course, Stiles had a contingency for our contingencies,” I muttered, a smirk tugging at the edge of my mouth.

Peter grinned beside me, claws still out, eyes burning. “He’s a neurotic little shit, but I’m starting to admire him.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Scott said. “He’ll never let us hear the end of it.”

More bodies dropped in the distance. The hunters were scattering, their formation broken. We hadn’t just turned the tide—we’d shattered it.

“I think we just hit plan D,” Derek said, watching the woods with careful eyes. “For ‘Destruction.’”

Gerard’s voice cut through the forest again, this time less confident, less composed. “You think this changes anything? You think you’ve won?”

I stepped forward, blood humming beneath my skin. “No. This isn’t the end,” I said, eyes locked on the shadows. “But it’s the beginning of yours.”

I let the shift take hold again. My paws curled into the dirt, muscles coiling beneath my fur. Teeth bared, I crept forward, golden eyes locked on Gerard as I surrendered to the wolf inside me.

Peter, Derek, and even Scott moved in tandem beside me. Malia and Isaac followed just behind. The pack—my pack—moved as one. Those beside me, those still fighting in the trees. We were in sync.

I lunged.

My teeth sank into his arm, dragging him to the forest floor. His blood filled my mouth, warm and metallic. I could’ve ripped his arm from the socket, torn him apart—but I didn’t. I released him.

Shifting back, I rose over him, looming in human form.

“You don’t get to make me into a monster,” I growled. “Not like you.”

Gerard sneered, blood coating his teeth. “I didn’t think you’d have the stomach for it.”

“She might not be a monster,” Peter said coldly, stepping forward. His boot pressed down on Gerard’s throat. “But I am.”

I didn’t stop him. I should have. But I didn’t.

I just watched it. Watched as Gerard coughed, as he clawed against the pressure. Watched as the light drained from his eyes, his chest stilled, his heartbeat vanished.

It was over. Finally, it was over.

“Little Wolf,” Peter’s voice echoed through the haze as I felt myself slipping. “You’re bleeding.”

I looked down, pressing a trembling hand to my stomach. Warm, sticky blood coated my fingers. I should’ve been healing.

Why wasn’t I healing?

Peter caught me just before I collapsed, his arms steady around me as my legs gave out. My vision blurred, everything tilting sideways.

Through the fog, I saw Derek crouch beside Gerard’s lifeless body, lifting the blade still clutched in his hand. His expression darkened.

“It’s coated in wolfsbane,” he said.

Of course, it was.

Between fading moments of consciousness, I felt myself being lifted—loaded into the back of Stiles’ Jeep.

“We need to get her to Deaton,” Derek said, voice low but urgent. “He’ll know what to do.”

“The hospital’s closer,” Scott argued. “I don’t think she’ll make it to the clinic.”

“Just fucking drive!” Peter snapped, his voice cracking with fury. “I’m not losing her. Not her.”

“Peter?” My voice was barely a whisper. My body felt so heavy.

“Shh,” he murmured, brushing hair from my face. “It’s gonna be okay. Just take my hand.”

I reached for him, our fingers lacing together. I felt the warmth of his grip, the tug as he pulled the pain away, absorbing it like only he could.

The Jeep jerked forward as Scott made a call. I couldn’t make out the words, only the urgency in his voice. Then:  “Deaton’s meeting us at the hospital. My mom’s prepping a room—she’ll help stabilize her.”

The fluorescent lights above me blurred into streaks as they rushed me through the ER doors. Voices echoed around me—too many, too loud, all bleeding into each other. I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

I felt Peter’s hand still in mine, gripping tighter every time I started to slip.

“Vitals are dropping—she’s not responding.” “Get the wolfsbane out of her system.” “Deaton’s on his way—just keep her alive.”

Cool air hit my skin as Peter laid my body on the gurney. I didn’t care. I couldn’t.

Then her voice.

“Peter, you need to let go,” Melissa said, firm but kind. “They need room to work.”

He hesitated. I felt it. The war in him. But he let go. Slowly.

“I’ll be right outside, Little Wolf,” he whispered, brushing his fingers over my cheek. “You’re not dying here.”

I wanted to believe him.

The pain was back. Sharp and hot and searing through me like wildfire. I heard a monitor screaming. Then, darkness pulled me under again.

The sterile smell of the hospital lingered in the air, mixing with the frantic hum of beeping machines and hushed voices.

Peter stood just outside the ER, his back pressed to the cold wall, arms folded tightly across his chest. Every now and then, his eyes would flick to the door, as if willing it to open and let him back to me. I could hear him muttering under his breath, words I couldn’t catch, but I knew what they were—prayers, curses, desperate promises.

Melissa worked quickly, her hands steady and efficient as she moved over me. Her calm voice was the only anchor in the chaos. “We’ve got to get the wolfsbane out of her system. Fast.”

The ER was a flurry of motion, the doctors and nurses moving around me, but I could barely feel it. The world outside of my own skin was distant, as if I were floating just out of reach. I could hear the sharp intake of breath, the click of needles, the hiss of oxygen.

Peter’s voice broke through the haze. “How bad is it, Melissa?”

There was a pause before she answered. I could feel her hands pressing down on my chest, and then the coolness of a needle sliding into my arm. “She’s strong, Peter. But we’re racing against the clock here.”

I could hear his sharp intake of breath. "Not again. Not her."

Melissa didn’t give him the reassurance he was looking for. She didn’t have any. “She’s healing, but not as fast as she should. The wolfsbane is interfering with her regenerative abilities. We’ll need to purge it completely, or it’ll keep her from recovering.”

Peter’s grip on the doorframe tightened, his knuckles white. “And if we don’t?”

“Then we lose her,” Melissa answered, blunt and honest.

The words hit harder than I expected.

“Don’t you dare,” Peter said, his voice barely more than a growl. He stepped closer to the door, but stopped short, not daring to cross the threshold. “I won’t let you. I won’t let you take her.”

There was a long silence. Then Melissa’s voice, softer, but firm. “I’m doing everything I can.”

I could hear the desperation in Peter’s voice, his vulnerability cracking through. “Please, just save her. I need her.”

I wanted to tell him I was okay. I wanted to reach out, to say it wasn’t over yet. But my body felt like it was slowly shutting down, and the words wouldn’t come.

Another round of beeping filled the air. Melissa barked orders, and the sharp scent of antiseptic grew thicker as they continued working.

Then, finally, after what felt like hours, Melissa’s voice cut through the tension.

“She’s stabilizing,” she said, her tone guarded but a touch softer now. “The wolfsbane’s clearing, but it’ll take time for her to fully recover.”

Peter’s breath was shaky as he let out a quiet exhale. “Is she going to be okay?”

“She’s a fighter, Peter. She’ll pull through. But it’s not going to be easy.”

Peter nodded, eyes flicking to me, a mixture of relief and fear in his gaze. “I’m not letting her fight this alone.”

I felt his presence near me, even though I couldn’t move. His voice softened again, his words just for me.

“I’m here, Little Wolf,” he whispered, a promise hanging in the air. “I won’t let you go.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the room, and for the first time in hours, I allowed myself to slip into the quiet, knowing I wasn’t alone.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” I muttered, “I’m sorry I couldn’t do it.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he responded. “Just rest now. It’s over.”  

Peter’s hand was gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from my forehead, his touch a steady comfort. He didn’t look angry, didn’t look disappointed. But I could see the lingering tension in his features, the unspoken weight of everything we had just endured.

I felt the pull of exhaustion in my bones, the heaviness of everything that had happened threatening to pull me under. But the guilt—that guilt—still gnawed at me. I had been so close.

“I should’ve... finished it,” I muttered weakly, still feeling the weight of Gerard’s presence haunting me even now, despite his death. I should have done more.

Peter’s thumb traced the edge of my cheek, a soothing motion, as if trying to wipe away my words along with the guilt. “You don’t owe him anything, Little Wolf. Nothing,” he said, the steel in his voice grounding me, even though I could tell it was tempered with concern for me.

“I... could’ve saved us all,” I whispered, the words slipping from me before I could stop them.

He shook his head, a soft exhale escaping him. “You’ve already done more than anyone could’ve asked. You’re here. That’s what matters. It’s over now. You don’t have to fight anymore.”

His words were a balm, but the ache in my chest remained. It wasn’t over for me—not yet. I wanted to believe him; I wanted to feel the weight of those words sink into my skin, but all I could feel was the aftermath. The remnants of the fight, the blood, the loss.

But for a moment, I let myself believe him. I let myself close my eyes and rest, the sounds of the hospital around me fading into the background as I clung to the promise in Peter’s voice.

“It’s over,” I repeated to myself, letting the exhaustion finally take over, pulling me deeper into the quiet darkness.

Peter’s hand lingered in mine, steady and strong. He wouldn’t let me go. Not now, not ever.

“How’s she doing?” Deaton asked from the doorway. He walked in carrying a black medical bag. I didn’t question it; he was a vet, after all.  

“It’s about fucking time you got here,” Peter grumbled, “Melissa got her stable but she’s still not healing on her own.” 

Deaton pulled out a vial, it was the one Stiles had me spit in. And a torch. “The only way to trigger her healing is to burn out the rest of the wolfsbane. I’m sorry, Nova, this is going to hurt.”

“Just do it,” I winced as I watched him light the torch. I lifted my hospital gown, and Deaton removed the bandage from my side. 

“Take my hand,” Peter told me. 

“You can’t. She has to feel it for it to work,” Deaton told him. I clenched my teeth as the flame burned my skin. 

I gasped as the heat seared through me, my body instinctively jerking away from the torch, but Deaton’s hand held me in place. My skin burned, the pain sharp and relentless, making everything else fade to the background except for the blistering fire that tore through me. I wanted to scream, to rip away from the source of the agony, but Peter’s voice kept me tethered, kept me grounded.

“Stay with me,” Peter’s voice was low, barely above a whisper, but it cut through the haze of pain like a lifeline. “You’re stronger than this.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, doing my best to focus on him, on his voice, the only thing that kept me anchored as Deaton worked. The smell of burning flesh mixed with the scent of wolfsbane, and I felt my body trembling from more than just the heat. It was like the poison in my veins was fighting against it, trying to keep me down, trying to drag me under. But I couldn’t let it win. I couldn’t.

I gritted my teeth, feeling the sensation of the wolfsbane burning out of me. It wasn’t just the fire—it was everything. The time I’d missed with Peter when we were young, the wolf that was me and the woman that was also me. It all came rushing forward in a tidal wave. But I pushed it down. Not now. Not while Peter was here, not while the pack was here.

Deaton's movements were methodical, but I could tell the strain on him, the weight of what he was doing. I could feel him watching me closely, making sure the process didn’t push me over the edge.

“You’re almost done,” Deaton said quietly, his hands steady despite the tension in the room. “Just a little longer.”

The seconds stretched into what felt like hours. Every nerve in my body was on fire. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest, every beat screaming for release. But then, slowly, the pain started to dull, the fire on my skin dimming to a smoldering ache.

The torch went out with a soft hiss, and I sucked in a breath, letting the air rush into my lungs as I collapsed back against the pillow. I couldn’t move, couldn’t even open my eyes at first.

But then Peter’s hand was there again, gentle but firm. He didn’t say anything, just stayed there, his presence a quiet reassurance.

“Peter,” I murmured, my voice weak, “is it over?”

He didn’t answer right away, and I didn’t need him to. I could feel it—the pain was subsiding, the poison retreating. My body was starting to heal.

“It’s over,” he said finally, his voice low with relief.

I let my head fall back onto the pillow, letting myself rest. For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to feel the peace of knowing that the worst was behind me.

But I knew it wasn’t really over. Gerard was dead, but there would still be consequences. There always were. But for now... for now, I would let myself heal. And Peter would be there, steady as ever, waiting for me to be whole again.

The hospital room felt quieter now, the hum of medical machines the only sound breaking the stillness. The weight of the night’s chaos seemed to settle into the air around us, a tension that hadn't quite eased even though Gerard was gone and the immediate threat had passed. I could feel the exhaustion weighing on me, but it wasn’t just my body that was tired—it was the pack too.

Peter stayed by my side, his hand still holding mine, but I could tell his mind was elsewhere, calculating the next steps, making sure everything was in motion.

Scott stepped in first, his face worn with the same exhaustion that clung to the rest of them. His eyes flicked to me, then to Peter, before settling back on me again. "How are you feeling?"

I offered him a small, strained smile. "Better. Still a lot of pain, but... I think I’m going to be okay."

Scott nodded, looking like he was fighting a war within himself—relief mixed with concern. "You don’t have to go through something like that alone, Nova. We’re all in this together."

Malia was next, her usual fire tempered by the situation. Her shoulders were stiff, like she was holding back the same rage and pain that had fueled her earlier. "I’ve got your back," she said, meeting my eyes for a moment before glancing away.

Behind her, Isaac’s face was hard to read, but the way his fists were clenched at his sides said everything. "We all do," he added, his voice low but resolute.

Derek came in next, his gaze sweeping over the room, assessing, calculating, the same way he always did. He was quiet as usual, but there was a sense of pride that radiated from him despite everything. "We’re stronger together," he said simply, nodding at the rest of the pack.

Then came Stiles, as usual, with his words of awkward comfort. He didn’t look as carefree as he normally did, his brow furrowed with worry as he glanced between me and Peter. "I mean, I’ve dealt with some crazy things before, but this whole wolves-and-wolfsbane thing? Definitely one of the more... intense days."

A small chuckle slipped from me despite the weight of everything. "You think?"

The mood shifted, the tension in the room easing just slightly. The pack, as dysfunctional as we were at times, knew how to find moments of relief in the most unexpected ways.

Peter shifted beside me, his voice calm and steady as he spoke. "We all need time to process what happened. But we’ll stick together, like always." He squeezed my hand a little tighter, as if reinforcing the unspoken promise.

"You’re not alone," Scott added, his tone firm. "We’ll all help you through this, Nova."

The group stood there for a moment, the silence settling in as everyone took in the weight of the night. But there was something different in the air now. It was more than just the aftermath of a fight—it was the feeling of a pack, unified again, ready to face whatever came next.

Malia was the first to break the silence, her voice a little rough around the edges. "We’re not done yet. There’s still more to clean up, more to deal with."

Scott nodded. "We’ll take care of it together."

As the pack slowly started to disperse, leaving me with Peter and a few moments of quiet, I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me. Gerard was gone. The threat had been neutralized. But even with everything still hanging in the air, I knew I had the one thing that mattered most.

I had my pack.

I let sleep pull me under. I wasn’t sure how long I slept, hours, days. But when I woke, Peter was still by my side. Derek was snoring softly in a chair across from the bed. 

“I made the others go home,” Peter said softly, “they’ll be back later to torment me, I’m sure.”

“How long was I out?” I asked.

“Three days,” he answered.

I looked at him, he was wearing the same shirt he had on that night.

I blinked, the reality of the time that had passed slowly sinking in. Three days? It felt like a lifetime, but the haze of sleep and pain made it hard to remember much of what happened in between.

I shifted a little in the bed, wincing as I moved. The pain was still there, but duller now, like an ache that had been stretched thin over the last few days. I glanced over at Derek, still asleep, his head leaning back against the chair in an uncomfortable way. Despite the fact that he looked like he hadn’t moved an inch, there was something reassuring about his presence.

"Thank you," I said quietly to Peter, my voice barely more than a whisper. "For... everything."

Peter gave a small, tired smile, though his eyes were heavy with the exhaustion he was trying to hide. "You don't have to thank me for that," he said softly. "You don't owe me anything, Little Wolf."

I swallowed, my chest tight. "But I do." I reached for his hand, the gesture instinctual. His fingers intertwined with mine, a silent reassurance that he was still there, still holding on.

"I was scared," I admitted, my voice breaking just a little. "I thought... I thought I wasn’t going to make it." The weight of everything that had happened—the fight, the wolfsbane, the fear of not healing—pressed down on me, and I let out a shaky breath.

Peter squeezed my hand gently, his thumb brushing over my skin in slow, comforting motions. "I never thought I’d let you go," he said, his voice low, serious. "I wasn’t going to let you die. I’m not losing anyone else. Not you."

I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to feel the warmth of his words. I wasn’t used to this, to someone caring like this, not in the way he did. I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten here—how we’d gotten here—but I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. Not with him by my side.

I opened my eyes again and looked at him, noticing how worn down he looked. He hadn’t left my side since the moment we’d gotten to the hospital. "You haven’t slept," I said, a little worried. "Peter, you need rest, too."

He chuckled softly, but it wasn’t a happy sound. "I’ll sleep when I know you’re okay. And the pack will be back soon. They’ll make sure I get some rest."

I smiled faintly at that. The pack was always good for that. "You’re a stubborn idiot," I said, my voice full of affection.

Peter smirked, leaning a little closer. "That’s part of my charm," he said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. It felt good, just a little bit of normal, even in the middle of everything. The reality of the situation wasn’t lost on me—we still had a long way to go. Gerard was dead, but the fallout of everything he’d done would be felt for a long time. But at least for this moment, in this small room, I had my pack and the man who had been there through it all. And that was enough for now.

"Are you hungry?" Peter asked, shifting slightly, a little more alert now.

I thought about it for a moment, realizing how empty I felt. "Yeah, I think I could eat something."

Peter stood up, stretching a little and giving Derek a glance before moving toward the door. "I’ll grab us something," he said. "You just rest."

I nodded, watching him leave the room. As he stepped outside, I let my eyes drift back to Derek, who was still sleeping soundly. The weight of everything that had happened—the pain, the loss, the fight for survival—was still heavy on my mind. But I wasn’t alone. I had Peter, the pack, and I would never let that go.

When Peter returned with food, the atmosphere in the room had shifted. Derek had woken up, rubbing his eyes and stretching his stiff muscles, and the others slowly trickled in one by one. Stiles, Scott, Malia, and Isaac. Each of them had this quiet air about them—like they were all just waiting for something to shift back into place.

"You look like you've been through hell," Stiles said, his voice light, but the tension in his face said otherwise as he looked at me, concern clouding his usual humor.

I chuckled softly, despite how tired I felt. "You should see the other guy."

Peter rolled his eyes, but there was a relief in his smile that I hadn't noticed before. "We’ll take a win where we can get one."

Scott took a seat beside me, his presence comforting. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice genuine.

I shifted a little, glancing at the rest of the pack. "Better. Still sore, but... I’m alive. I guess that’s something."

"That’s more than something," Derek spoke up, his voice steady as always. "We all thought we might lose you. Didn’t think it would be this close."

I let the silence linger for a moment. There was a heaviness in the air, an unspoken acknowledgment that things had been too close to call. Too many of us had nearly lost too much. The weight of it was too much to ignore.

"How’s Gerard’s death affecting things?" I asked quietly, looking around at the group, trying to gauge what was left to do. The hunters hadn’t just vanished after his death, and the pack, though strong, had been through so much already.

"Everything’s still in flux," Malia said, her voice tight. "There’s a power vacuum. No one’s stepping up to fill it, but that doesn’t mean the others aren’t trying."

Isaac, who had been quiet until now, looked over at me with a sharp glance. "I don’t know if they’re gonna back down. They’ll want to prove something now that Gerard’s gone."

"I don’t think that matters," Scott said, shaking his head. "What matters now is that we stick together. We take the power back. This isn’t over until we make it clear that the pack doesn’t fall."

I nodded, my mind starting to clear as I processed the thoughts rolling through my head. The pack had always been a family, a unit that came together when everything else fell apart. And now, more than ever, we needed to do that. We needed to rebuild.

Peter moved to sit beside me, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. "What happens now?" I asked, looking at the faces around me.

"We rebuild," Peter answered, his voice steady. "We make sure that nothing can break us apart. We watch each other’s backs, no matter what."

The others nodded in agreement, each of them looking more resolute as they absorbed the weight of what he said. The fight wasn’t over. But as long as we stayed together, we’d find a way to get through it.

"Then let’s get to work," I said, feeling the determination stirring in me again. "We’ve got a pack to protect."

With that, we all stood, ready to take on whatever came next. The battle had been hard, but we were still standing, still fighting, and that’s what mattered.

Derek frowned as his phone rang. He excused himself to the hallway to take the call. I tilted my head, straining to hear what he was hiding.

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop, Little Wolf,” Peter smirked. “Derek will tell you if you need to know.”

“Fine,” I took a bite of the hospital burger that was on the plate in front of me, wrinkling my nose, “if you promise to take me to get a Hog Wild barbeque burger when I get out of here.” 

“Whatever you want,” he said back. 

“Whatever I want?” I ask.

Peter leaned back in his chair, the playful glint in his eyes growing more intense. "Whatever you want," he repeated, a teasing smirk curling his lips. "You’ve been through hell. If you want a burger, or something bigger... I’ll make it happen."

I raised an eyebrow, locking eyes with him. "Bigger, huh? Like what? A whole hog?"

Peter’s smirk only widened. "If that’s what it takes to make you smile, then sure."

I laughed softly, the tension in my chest lightening for the first time in what felt like days. It was nice to hear him joking, even if it was a distraction from the mess we’d just come out of. "Deal."

Peter’s gaze softened, his hand brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. "You’ve got it. And when you’re ready, we’ll make sure you get everything you deserve."

Just as I was about to respond, Derek returned, his face unreadable as he stepped back into the room. I caught his eye briefly, and there was a flicker of something in his expression, but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

"So, what’s the word?" I asked, trying to mask the curiosity in my voice.

Derek sighed, his phone slipping back into his pocket. "There’s been a shift in the hunters’ ranks. Some new faces. Gerard’s death has created chaos. But there’s someone—someone important—who wants to step in and take control."

Peter's posture straightened. "Do we know who?"

Derek shook his head, frustration creasing his brow. "Not yet. But we’ll find out soon enough."

"Great," I muttered, leaning back against the pillows. "Just what we need."

Peter’s expression hardened, but he didn’t say anything, his hand still resting on my shoulder as if he were anchoring both of us to the moment.

"We’ll deal with it," he said quietly, his voice unwavering. "One step at a time."

I nodded, knowing that as much as I wanted to push past everything and pretend the danger was over, it never truly was. But for now, at least, I had my pack around me—and that meant something.

“There’s something else,” Derek said softly. “When Chris went to find Gerard’s body, it wasn’t there.”

“What do you mean it wasn’t there?” Scott asked. 

“He probably got lost in the woods,” Isaac said. “I’ve lived here my whole life and still sometimes get lost out there.”

“No, he was in the right spot,” Derek responded.

“What does that mean?” I asked, “Did someone find him before Chris did?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Peter stated. 

Derek glanced around, making sure everyone was listening, his gaze shifting between the group. "Chris went back to check the area, retraced his steps. But there was no sign of Gerard’s body. It was like it just disappeared."

A heavy silence filled the room. Isaac shifted uneasily in his seat, clearly not sure how to process this information. "But how? How could someone take his body? It's not like it’s something you can just carry off unnoticed."

Peter’s expression hardened. "That’s what I’m wondering. Who would have taken it, and why?"

Scott leaned forward, his brow furrowing. "So, we’re saying someone’s still out there, playing games with us? This isn’t over?"

Derek nodded grimly. "I don’t know who or what, but I have a feeling that Gerard's death wasn’t the end of it. Someone’s been moving in the shadows."

I felt the weight of those words settle on my chest, a cold chill creeping up my spine. "So, what now? Do we wait for the next big thing to happen, or do we go looking for whatever’s left of Gerard’s plan?"

Peter stood, running a hand through his hair. "We don’t wait. We figure out who took Gerard’s body and why they’re doing it. We don’t let this shit fester. If Gerard’s gone, whoever’s trying to step in has a target on their back."

"But how do we even start looking?" Isaac asked, a bit of frustration in his voice. "This could be anyone."

"We start by following the scent trail," Derek said, his voice sharp. "If Gerard’s body was moved, someone left a trail. And I’ll be damned if we let whoever did this get away with it."

"Right," Scott agreed, determination rising in his voice. "We’re not letting this go. Not now."

I looked at the pack around me, feeling that familiar pull to fight, to protect the ones I loved. "Then let's find out who's behind this. I don’t care if they’ve got Gerard’s body or not. They’re going down."

Peter nodded, stepping closer, his voice low but fierce. "And I’ll make sure they do."

Derek gave a short nod, the decision made. "Let’s move out. We’ve got work to do."

I threw the covers back on the hospital bed, my feet touching the cold linoleum as I stood. My legs wobbled as though this was my first time on two legs. Peter caught me before I fell. 

“Where do you think you’re going, Little Wolf?” Peter gave me a stern look.

“I’m coming,” I said. 

“No, you’re not,” Scott responded. “You just woke up from you’re last near-death experience. So you’re staying here.”

“You’re Alpha shit doesn’t work on me remember,” I told him.

“I wasn’t trying to use my ‘Alpha shit’,” he grumbled, “I was trying to be a friend.”

“What kind of friend would I be if I let anything happen to any of you because of me?” 

Peter sighed, his hand still resting gently on my shoulder to keep me steady. "Little Wolf, you need to rest. You’re barely healed, and you’ve already pushed yourself too far." His voice was laced with concern, even though he was trying to hide it behind his usual guarded demeanor.

I shook my head, my resolve hardening. "I’m not just going to sit here while everyone else fights. I’m part of this pack. I need to be out there."

Scott’s gaze softened, though his frustration was still evident. "It’s not about being part of the pack, it’s about keeping you alive." He stepped closer, eyes meeting mine with a sincerity that caught me off guard. "You’ve been through enough already. We’ll handle this. We need you in one piece."

I glanced between them, feeling the familiar tug of responsibility pulling at me. The pack had already suffered so much. I couldn’t stand by while they went into danger without me.

"I can’t just do nothing," I murmured. "You all risked your lives for me. I’m not going to let that be for nothing."

Peter's grip tightened slightly, his voice low and firm. "We risk our lives for each other. That’s what a pack does. But you need to heal. For all of us."

There was a brief silence, the weight of the moment pressing in. My legs were still shaky, and the lingering dizziness from the wolfsbane left me uncertain of my own strength.

"I’ll go with you," Peter finally added, his voice softening. "But not until you’ve gotten some rest. I won’t let you throw yourself into the fight until you’re ready."

Scott nodded, looking at me with a mix of affection and concern. "We’ll be ready, Nova. But right now, you need to be strong for us, too. Let us take care of this, and you can join us when you’re fully healed."

I swallowed the frustration building in my chest and nodded slowly, my resolve still strong but tempered by the reality of my condition. "Fine," I said, though it came out more like a reluctant surrender. "I’ll rest… for now. But don’t think I won’t be right behind you."

Peter gave me a small, knowing smile, his fingers brushing against mine as he stepped back. "Good. We need you at your best. And when the time comes, we’ll take this fight together."

I took a deep breath, still frustrated but accepting of the reality. For now, I would rest. But once I was able, I’d be by their side, ready to face whatever threat still loomed in the shadows.

[frohoebaggins]

Do you guys think Eowyn and Arwen kissed atleast once? like yeah yeah they were both married or taken in some capacity by the time they would’ve met but like….

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

Changes Pt.3

Word Count: 1,458

Characters: Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Kate Argent, Allison Argent (brief), Scott McCall (brief)

Pairings: Derek Hale x Platonic!Reader; Peter Hale x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: angst, death

A/N: holy shit i dont remember the last time I wrote like this oml

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Your vision was blurry, head pounding as you scrunched your eyes, making out someone standing in front of you, shining a light in your eyes.

Your hands were tied above your head, your arms were pinned to something cool and metal.

You fully opened your eyes, seeing Kate in front of you as you jumped slightly.

“Good of you to join us,” she said softly.

You tugged on your chains, your heart rate jumping as you looked around, seeing Derek chained up next to you.

It had been only two days since you last spoke to him, you weren't looking forward to seeing him.

You turned away from him, looking back at Kate, breathing heavily.

You didn't know what to say.

“You know they’re human, they don’t know anything!” Derek yelled.

“(Y/N) was your best friend, were they not? They’ve lived in Beacon Hills forever, known you forever. They know who the alpha is. One of you is going to speak,” you felt a shock throughout your body as you let out a small cry, while Derek tensed.

“You can save them by just telling me who the alpha is,” Kate teased.

You looked at Derek, who opened his mouth to speak before you shook your head no, stopping him.

“Wrong decision,” she shook her head.

You flinched as she neared you, letting out a shaky breath before she froze.

You heard a door opening before she smiled softly.

“I’ll be back,” she walked away from you as you let out a deep breath.

“I-I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?” you heard Derek's voice as you avoided looking at him.

“I promise you, you’ll be okay.”

The door opened once more, and this time you saw Kate and another girl walking into the room, the other girl looked frightened and confused, looking at Kate for answers.

“Just watch and learn, Allison.”

---

There were slight tears in your eyes while you sat, tied down on the chair. You stared blankly at the ground, trying to avoid Derek’s words.

He wouldn't stop talking whenever he had the chance. You even wanted Kate to come back, she was the only one who could get him to shut up.

“I’m going to make everything up to you, I promise,” you wiped your eyes, before tensing as you heard the door open, Derek going silent.

“Scott is the other Beta, isn’t he? It’s not Jackson,” you clenched your jaw.

How did she know?

Kate walked around the two of you, circling back to you.

“He is, isn't he?” you let out a shaky breath as she stood behind you, holding a knife to your collarbone.

You stayed silent before she pressed onto your neck while you shut your eyes tightly.

You're okay

You’re okay

It’s okay

“Stop!” Derek yelled.

“Yes, he is. Now stop,” Derek said.

That idiot

She released her grip on you, while you exhaled shakily.

“So happy you decided to cooperate,” you didn’t need to see her face to imagine her smirk.

It’s haunted you since you first met her.

You and Derek got in a fight about her. You could never forget that it was less than a week later when the Hale House caught fire.

“Why did you tell her?!” you exclaimed, waiting for Kate to leave.

“What do you mean-”

“You sold out Scott? He’s a child!” you yelled.

“She was hurting you, (Y/N). She already guessed most of it,” Derek said softly.

“I was fine,” you shook your head.

“(Y/N), you need to know I’m really sorry-”

“I heard you the first time, I heard you the last time,” you muttered.

“So then tell me what I can do to make this up to you,” Derek replied.

“You can finally leave me alone,” you spat.

You saw Derek tense slightly from the corner of your eye before you turned to look at him.

“When we get out of here, I want you to just leave me alone. Forever.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Please,” your eyes watered slightly.

“O-Okay, I promise,” he nodded softly.

You turned back, putting your hand on your wound before you winced.

Shit

You saw the blood on your fingers, closing your eyes.

It’ll be okay

It’ll be okay

---

You zoned in and out of consciousness, you made out a figure of a man standing in front of you, he put his hand on a dial.

You knew it was hooked up to Derek, you knew it would shock him.

You didn't have enough energy to call out.

What just happened?

Your ears were ringing as the man fell unconscious. Scott stood in front of you, rushing to Derek.

We’re saved

You could feel blood dripping from your wounds while Scott helped Derek take off his chains.

Their speech was muffled as Derek ran to you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“(Y/N)? H-Hey, can you hear me? (Y/N)?” he took the chains off of you as your body shook.

He wrapped his arms around you, helping you up.

You groaned softly as he took a deep breath.

“You’re in a lot of pain,” he said.

“Let's get out of here.”

You tried to keep your eyes open, everything was moving too fast for you to keep up.

The three of you were outside, you could feel the cold air on your skin.

“Something’s wrong,” you said softly.

Derek paused, before shaking his head.

“Get down!” you groaned as he pushed you down, before you gasped, seeing an arrow fly into his stomach.

“Derek,” you cried out.

You tried to crawl towards him, before feeling someone pull you back.

“Kate,” you gasped softly.

“You know, I never got to thank you,” she lifted you harshly.

“Keeping me out of the police’s radar,” she said softly.

“Let go of me,” you tried to push her away as she shook her head.

“You got my friends arrested, they’re still rotting away in a jail cell,” her grip on your arm tightened as you tried to pull away from her.

“You burned their family,” you clenched your jaw.

She pressed on your wounds as you winced, scrunching your eyes shut in pain.

You cried out in pain softly before you heard the sound of her gun cocking.

“No-” you felt the bullet go through your leg as you collapsed onto the floor.

She tried to hold you, before getting pushed aside.

Peter?

You saw the alpha grab Kate, running into the Hale House.

Everything was moving too fast for you to keep up, your head was spinning, hey everything moved slowly. You saw a bright light as you scrunched your eyes, seeing Peter’s face flash in front of you.

You remembered seeing the same look on him after the fire, his entire body was scorched.

“Derek-” your voice broke as you tried to pull yourself to Peter, seeing Derek’s claws in the air.

“Don’t-” your voice was barely above a whisper as sharp tears filled your eyes, watching Peter’s body collapse on the floor.

No

He can't be

You pulled yourself to Peter’s body, pulling him into your arms.

More and more tears fell from your face, his body was limp, there was no heartbeat.

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, sobbing quietly.

—

“I got you some water,” your face was turned away from Derek’s, you kept your eyes on the wall beside you.

“How do you feel?” you couldn't bring yourself to yell at him, you were tired.

“Have you taken your meds yet? They’re right here,” he placed a smaller cup next to the cup of water.

“I’m the alpha now,” flashes of Peter’s body came to your mind as you closed your eyes, wincing as a tear slipped down.

“I didn't mean to upset you-”

“Please just leave,” your voice broke slightly.

“(Y/N), I need to… all these things-” 

“Just leave, Derek. Please.” 

There was a moment of silence as you wiped your tears away.

“I’m not leaving you again, I’m sorry,” you shook his head.

You let out a shaky breath, wiping your face before slowly laying back in the hospital bed.

You wanted it all to drift away, you wish you could forget all about the events from the past weeks. You wanted to forget about the Hales completely, forget about meeting Derek, forget about Peter dying, but you knew you couldn't. At the end of the day, you would be dead without them, if you still lived at home.

This isn't fair

You closed your eyes, letting a tear slip down. You couldn't sleep, but you couldn't stand to see Derek any longer. You unshelled deeply, burying yourself under the blanket while Derek took a seat next to your bed, watching over you.

Taglist:

@cevans-winchester

@ssa-volturi

@katherinepetrovawife

@sarcastic-sourwolf

@deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy

@raynelbabe

[hxmosuperior]

Can I give you some friendly advice?

If you're going to attack someone or something try to do so on a basis that doesn't allow them to level the same accusations against you.

Attack Peter Jackson by all means, but if you want to have any credibility you better make damn sure that Amazon set a higher standard for morality and book accuracy.

Otherwise you just look like a hypocrite. So Harvey Weinstein was associated with Jackson? Yeah and Amazon aren't exactly the little underdog are they? We could say plenty about the way they treat workers, and some of the causes and regimes they support.

So Jackson's adaptations changed stuff? Ok, you make certain the one you're supporting hasn't changed a single thing. Right now you're on very shaky ground because half the characters in their series aren't even in any book Tolkien wrote, and the rest are unrecognisable.

Next you'll be saying The Silmarillion is a forgery and Tolkien didn't know what he was doing because at that moment there is no other way to defend the canonicity of the Amazon series

love the false equivalencies.

I would like to offer some friendly advice in turn, with as much good faith as you are offering your advice to me.

Please take your computer and phone and chuck it into the nearest water source. Let it sink down into the bottom. Breathe in the air around you and know that we are all the better if not subjected to your joyless, miserable existence here on the internet.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love and Medicine ~ 13

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,160ish

Summary: You try to handle what happened with Steve, while Natasha tries to handle her pregnancy.

Warning: serious pregnancy complications

A few days later, you were anxious and needed to get energy out. You dragged Natasha to the park for a run. She was huffing and puffing as you basically ran circles around her.

“You’re stupid,” Natasha panted, trying to keep up. “You're stupid, evil, sadist and I wanna kill you.”

“Endorphins are good. Endorphins are mood elevators,” you replied. “This is supposed to make us feel better.”

Natasha stopped and threw herself on the ground. “Do you feel better?”

“I’m stupid.” You jogged around her.

“Slutty mistress.”

“Pregnant whore.”

“Sleeping with our bosses was a great idea.”

You stopped and sat yourself beside Nat. “You know what’s ruined for me?”

“What?”

“Ferry boats. I used to love ferry boats and Steve's got a thing for ferry boats. Now every time I see a frigging ferry boat—“

“You know what's ruined for me? Coronary artery by-pass grafts ... and aortic aneurysms. I used to love aortic aneurysms.”

You laid next to Natasha with a sigh. “Have you cried yet?”

“What do you think?”

“Do you think we’ll feel better if we cry? You know like just let it out?”

“Probably. Yeah…. Do you wanna cry now?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

~~~

Steve entered the hospital elevator, finding himself alone. Which was relieving. Unfortunately, at the last second, Fury entered wearing a beanie.

“Nice hat,” Steve commented.

“Shut up,” Fury responded.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m going back to work.”

“You’re not cleared for surgery.”

“Leave me alone. I’ve been sitting at home watching Ellen giving away things on TV. Ellen, Steve! You clear me now or I’ll hurt you.”

“If you want me to clear you so soon, maybe you should've thought about that before you gave chief to Stark and invited Satan to Seattle.”

“Satan?”

“Good morning,” Peggy greeted, entering the elevator. “I like the hat, Nick.”

“Satan speaks,” Steve murmured.

“Actually I prefer to be called ruler of all that is evil. But I will answer to Satan.”

“What is she still doing here?”

“I asked her to stay,” Fury answered. “We have a pediatric surgery attending on maternity leave.”

“Actually, I could use you on a consult,” Peggy told Steve. “Will you meet me up there Steve?”

“Ah yeah. Fine,” he responded. Peggy left the elevator. “I’m not clearing you for surgery.”

~~~

Dr. Gamora and her group of interns were all gathered in a patient’s room for rounds. Dr. Banner was also in attendance.

“Mr. Jackson is scheduled for resection non-small cell carcinoma today,” Natasha stated. “He did well overnight, has remained afebrile. He's had a dose of ceftriaxone this morning. He's pre-op labs are unremarkable. His chest x-rays, um, are unchanged from the previous.”

“I own a couple dry-cleaning stores,” Mr. Jackson explained. “Never believed what they said about inhaling the chemicals.”

“We’re going to do everything we can for you, Mr. Jackson,” Banner promised. He turned to Natasha. “Did oncology see him yet?”

“Uh, they’re waiting for the surgical path,” Natasha replied.

“Thank you, Dr. Romanoff.”

“Next patient,” Dr. Gamora said. The group of interns followed Gamora.

“You need to tell Banner,” you whispered to Natasha.

“No,” Natasha responded.

“I just think you should still tell him about the baby because he'd at least have the responsibility of having to pay.”

“No! You know what? He’ll never know. It’s over. Once this pregnancy is taken care of, Banner won’t even be a blip on my radar. He’ll be a smudge.”

“Right,” you scoffed.

You all entered the next patient room to see a young woman.

“Alexa Rickie,” Peter began, “she’s 23 years old. In for a scheduled ETS for treatment of her erythrophobia hyperpyrexia.”

“Erythrophobia?” Val whispered to Clint.

“Blushing,” he answered.

“You have any questions about the procedure?” Gamora asked Alexa.

“Oh. Dr. Ro….” Alexa began, but paused as she started blushing badly. Trying to get it to go away, she fanned her face. “Dr. Rogers explained everything. He was very… huh… helpful. He gave me some…. sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Peter said. “Half the patients that come through here have the hots for Rogers.”

“Dr. Quill,” Gamora scolded.

“What? It’s true.”

You simply rolled your eyes. It’s not like Peter was wrong. It was just so annoying because it was true, all the patients did swoon over Steve. Gamora ordered all of you to exit the room. You followed her and stood in front of her when she stopped.

“Okay, assignments,” Dr. Gamora said, looking at some papers. “Val, the Rogers’ need an intern up in the NICU.”

“The Rogers’?” Val repeated. “Like, the both of them? Together? And me by myself with the two married people who hate each other?”

“Go.” Val sighed and walked off. “Natasha you’re on the thoracotomy.”

“With Banner?” Natasha wondered. “Oh, can I have the hateful married couple instead?”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I thought that I was your resident and not your hostess. I assign, you take. Is there a problem with that?”

“No.”

“Is there some reason why it's inconvenient for you to spend the day in the OR, learning from Dr. Banner?”

“No. I'm very happy to be working with Dr. Banner. Thank you very much.” Natasha rushed off.

“Clint and Scott, the pit.” They nodded and left. “Peter, Alexa Rickie is your patient.”

“Yes,” he said quietly before leaving.

“Y/N, you will be doing scut.”

“Excuse me?”

“I can tell you’re still distracted from the Rogers’ drama, and you need to find some focus.”

“I’m plenty focused.”

“Prove that to me today.”

~~~

Val stood by Peggy in the NICU as Steve went over a baby’s chart.

“Where’s the mother?” Steve asked.

“Gone,” Peggy answered. “She stuck around long enough to get the kid strung out and then took off. Sound familiar?”

“Peggy!”

“Steve, I know it’s a long shot. I know that.”

“You told me you had a newborn with an invasive mash. You fail to mention that she's premature, underweight and addicted to narcotics. There's no way that this baby is going to survive spinal surgery.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Even if she does, she's a mess. She'll just get meningitis seizures. She's going to live a short painful life.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s my job to know that.”

“You’re not God, Steve.”

“Excuse me?”

“I'm sorry honey but you're not. You don't get to decide—“

“Wait, did you just call me honey? Don’t call me honey!”

Val tried to focus on the baby as the conversation grew more uncomfortable.

“Fine,” Peggy conceded. “You’re not God, Dr. Rogers. Look if a patient has any chance at survival, which I think she does, then you have a responsibility—“

“Don’t talk to me about responsibility,” Steve retorted.

“You took an oath Steve!”

“Oh, don’t you dare talk to me about oaths!”

“Steve, I messed up. People mess up.”

“You slept with my best friend in my favorite sheets.”

“The flannel sheets? You hate the flannel sheets.”

“No, I love the sheets.”

“You like the Italian sheets with the paisleys—“

“Would you just stop talking about the sheets?”

“Fine!”

“Look I’m sorry. I’m just gonna go,” Val interrupted. “I’ll go check on the labs.” She couldn’t leave the room fast enough.

“Peggy, don’t do this,” Steve said.

“Steve… look she’s a fighter,” Peggy watched the baby girl. “Look how far she’s come already.”

“Don’t get attached. Don’t get involved. Just… don’t make her life more painful than it already is.”

“Steve, please. She has nobody. She needs someone to fight for her.”

“She’s too far gone. You have to let her go. Let her go in peace.” Steve started to head out.

“Fine Steve, walk away. It’s what you do best.”

~~~

“How are you holding up today?” Tony asked, cup of coffee in hand as he walked beside you.

“Fine,” you responded.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I heard Gamora has you on scut today.”

You scoffed. “It’s ridiculous. She’s questioning if I’m focused.”

“She’s just making sure you’re alright. It’s her way of showing she cares.”

“Stupid way. Can you just put me on one of your cases for the day? I desperately need it.”

“Fine. Come on, I have a surgery in 30 minutes. You can scrub in.”

~~~

Natasha rushed into Dr. Banner’s surgery that had already began. She wasn’t feeling well and had spent a majority of the day in the bathroom. A nurse quickly handed her a gown.

“Here, Dr. Romanoff,” the nurse said.

“You’re late,” Bruce commented, focused on the surgery.

“I apologize,” Natasha responded, merging into the group of others that were watching.

“Just starting to dissect around Mr. Jackson’s tumor… I’ve almost got visualization.”

Natasha let out a shaky breath, as her head pounded. She had no idea what was going on, but she wasn’t willing to sit out on this surgery. She was already mad at herself for being late.

~~~

Val walked into the NICU with the baby’s chart. Peggy was watching over the baby who was gripping onto her finger.

“She’s got a good grip,” Val commented.

“Yeah,” Peggy agreed.

“I don’t think…” Val sighed, handing the chart over to Peggy. “It doesn’t look good.”

“She's a got a resistant strain of pneumococcus. The antibiotics aren't working. You may want to get yourself reassigned Val. I don't think we'll be operating today.”

“So do you think Dr. Rogers was right?”

“She’s just too far gone… she does have a good grip… I hate admitting that he’s right. Especially right now.”

~~~

Natasha was getting more exhausted with each passing second, and sweaty.

“The tumor has infiltrated the pericardium,” Bruce stated. Looking up, he sees Natasha looking like she’s day dreaming. “Romanoff! Romanoff!”

“What… sorry?” Natasha answered, the world around her muffled.

“Is my surgery interrupting your daydreaming?”

“No. Sorry.”

“There is an arrhythmia when I press down on the tumor. That is a sign of what, Romanoff?”

“Umm…. Ah. It’s a sign of, it’s a… it’s a sign that the uh, tumor has infiltrated the pericardium.”

“Possibilities?”

“In all… I’m sorry. I…”

“Do your homework, Romanoff. It could be causing a tear in the aortic muscle of the heart.”

“So he’s got a broken heart,” another doctor commented.

Panting, Natasha swayed before collapsing on the floor. A few of the doctors let out exclamations of surprise. From the gallery, Gamora, Scott, and Val saw everything. They quickly headed down to the OR.

“Dr. Romanoff, are you okay?” A doctor asked, kneeling beside her.

“Natasha,” Bruce called. “Natasha. Somebody help her!” He stopped surgery, but hadn’t moved from his spot. “Natasha! Don’t just stand there, dammit. Somebody help her. Get a gurney in here!”

Gamora, Val, and Scott rushed in with a gunnery and supplies.

“Natasha,” Bruce called again.

“Natasha,” Val repeated, getting down beside her friend.

“We’ve got it Dr. Banner,” Gamora said. “We’ve got it.” She put a breathing mask on Natasha’s face.

“Okay, talk to me. Tell me what we do we know,” Bruce ordered. “What do we know? Talk to me Valkyrie.”

“I don’t know,” Val responded.

“Come on people let’s move.”

“Natasha!” Gamora called. “What hurts?” Nat didn’t respond, but was conscious. “Let’s get her out of here. There’s a patient on the table. Lift.” They lifted Natasha onto the gurney and started moving her from the OR. “Good, good.”

“Dr. Gamora, when you get her stabilized, I need a report please.”

“Right, Dr. Banner!” They quickly move Natasha out and down the hall. “Uh! Her pulse is racing. I need her on a monitor to get a BP. Also I want her started on a liter of LR wide open. Val run ahead to emergency and let them know we're on our way.”

Val noticed that Natasha was trying to talk. She removed her friends mask. “What?” Val questioned.

“Seven weeks,” Natasha said, breathless. “I’m pregnant, Val. I’m pregnant.”

Val, Scott, and Gamora stopped and looked out each other. They moved the gurney into an elevator.

“Okay, no. We’re going to pre-op instead,” Gamora instructed. “Val, find Peggy Rogers. And be discreet.”

Val nodded and hurried off. She found Peggy with Fury and Clint near one of the nurses stations.

“Excuse me, Dr. Rogers. We need you fast,” Val said. “Um.. it’s Natasha, one of our interns. She’s…. she’s collapsed.”

“Natasha’s collapsed?” Clint repeated.

“Why do you need me?” Peggy asked.

Val sighed, not saying anything. Comprehension dawned on both Peggy and Fury, realizing that she must be pregnant. Clint looked at them, getting it too.”

“Natasha’s pregnant?!” Clint exclaimed.

“Shut up Clint,” Val scolded, before turning to Peggy. “Please come.”

“Of course,” Peggy agreed, following Val.

~~~

“Thank you for that, Tony,” you said, scrubbing out of surgery beside the attending. “I really needed it.”

“Of course,” he responded.

“Y/N,” Clint said, bursting into the scrub room.

“Clint?” You questioned. You studied him, realizing that there was something wrong. “What is it?”

“It’s Natasha.”

~~~

In pre-op, Peggy was performing an ultrasound on Natasha. Dr. Gamora was standing behind Nat’s bed, stroking her hair.

“Have you notified the father?” Peggy asked.

Natasha didn’t answer, simply breathing funny.

“Natasha? Natasha?” Gamora called. “Natasha? Is there anyone we can call?” Natasha just continued to gasp slightly. “Oh we’re losing her.”

“Do you see that?” Peggy asked, pointing at the screen displaying Natasha’s uterus. “It’s an extra uterine pregnancy in the tube there. She’s bleeding out. We need to get her to surgery immediately.”

They rushed Natasha to surgery and immediately got started. Gamora was still behind Natasha, watching over her, asVal observed the surgery.

“She’s gonna be okay, right?” Val worried.

“How attached was she to this pregnancy?” Peggy asked.

“I don’t know. She’s a pretty private person.”

“She's lost a lot of blood but I've got it from here. Dr. Gamora you must have a surgery or two of your own today.”

“I’m fine right here,” Gamora responded, keeping her eyes on Natasha.

~~~

You were rushing through the hall, trying to find out any information on Natasha and her condition. You were so incredibly worried about her, which didn’t help your already bubbling emotions. Rounding a corner, you rammed right into a chest. Hands grabbed your arms to steady you. You looked up to see Steve, looking down at you with concern. Just looking into his eyes, made you want to break down in his arms. Which was so extremely frustrating. You pushed back out of his grasp, causing Steve to hold up his arms in defense.

“Don’t!” You said sharply.

“Sorry,” Steve said.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m so tired of it, Of you being sorry.”

“Dr.—“

“Don’t do it!”

“Dr. L/N—“ He glanced around as you began causing a scene.

“Dr. L/N, seriously? Are you concerned about people finding out about us? Is that what matters to you?”

“Y/N, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay! You have a wife who’s not easy to hate. Who’s annoyingly kind and painfully smart and I pretty sure that she’s current saving my best friend’s life.”

“Y/N, just—“

“Don’t! Stop talking to me like you’re my boyfriend! Stop talking to me at all.”

You rushed away, finding the OR that Natasha was being operated in. You opened the door. But before you could get fully into the room, Gamora saw you and came up to you.

“Need something?” Gamora questioned.

“I’m coming in,” you stated.

“No, you’re not.”

“I am. I’m her friend.”

“Exactly. She's lying on the operating table, naked, exposed. She's sedated but she's probably scared out of her mind. Now right now she's not a doctor. She's not your friend. She's a patient and she deserves to have all the privacy I can give her. You're not going any further.”

“We went jogging this morning,” you sighed. “I made her go jogging. Did I… is there a way that it could of….”

“No.” Gamora shook her head. “It started out this way. Nothing caused it to happen.”

“Just, please, let me stay by her side.”

“You can try. But I’d have to take you down.”

“Right now. Just in this moment. I hate you.”

“Yeah, well, I can take it. Focus on scut and wait outside.”

~~~

You found yourself working on scut in the lobby, trying to keep your mind off your friend in surgery. Steve stood far off, watching you. He couldn’t stop feeling terrible for what he had done to you, and he couldn’t stop loving you. Knowing that you wouldn’t want to be comforted by him, he found himself in the NICU, checking up on the premie baby Peggy had asked him to help on.

“Look at that, BP is stabilizing,” Peggy noted as she entered the NICU.

“She’s stronger since this morning,” Steve said, rocking slightly in the rocking chair next to the baby. “There’s no reason in the world why she should be stronger since this morning.”

“She’s really beautiful, isn’t she?”

“I’ll tell you what. If she makes it through the night, if she has a little bit more strength, I’ll operate.” They gave each other small smiles.

“You know the way I see it we could deal with us in one of three ways. Option 1. I could apologize. You could forgive me and come home and we could move on with our lives like adults. Or, option 2. I could apologize. You could forgive me, come home but, you can still bring it up to use against me whenever we argue.”

“Are you trying to be funny?”

“Satan has a sense of humor.”

“What’s the third?”

“I don’t know what the third option is.” She leaned in and kissed Steve, who kissed back. Slowly, she pulled away. “I just know that I still love you.”

~~~

Waking up, Natasha glanced around the hospital room. Her eyes stopped roaming when she noticed Gamora sitting in a chair beside her.

“What happened?” Natasha asked.

“You had an extra uterine pregnancy. Your left fallopian tube burst,” Gamora explained. “Dr. Rogers… she did everything she could but there was too much damage. She couldn't save the tube.”

Natasha didn’t respond, she simply looked away and closed her eyes.

~~~

You were sitting outside the medical center on a bench. It had been an emotional day and you were finally allowing yourself to cry. Walking out of the hospital to leave, Steve noticed you. But hadn’t noticed that you were crying yet.

“Y/N?” Steve called softly.

“Oh,” you gasped, trying to wipe the tears quickly.

“Y/N.” Steve came around to the side.

“Don’t…” You swallowed. “Please, please just don’t’ say anything.”

“Okay.”

He stood there, watching you try to pull yourself together before you quickly got up. You walked over, stopping in front of him.

“I’m just exhausted,” you sighed. “Missing my parents is exhausting. What happened to Natasha and you is… hating you is the most exhausting.” Without much thinking, you grabbed his face and briefly kissed Steve. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”

You headed back into the hospital, leaving Steve stunned.

next chapter >

Sorry that it has taken so long for this chapter to come out! Hopefully it’s not too terrible. Please forgive me.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

LOVE AND MEDICINE TAG LIST

@fyreball66 (won’t link)

@alwaysnervousturtles​

@anxiousgoldengirl​

@lahoete​

@hersilencedscreams​

@elenaxoxo22​

@marvelfan29 (won’t link)

@wanniiieeee​

@a-little-counter-esperanto​

@aikeia​

@coldmuffinbanditshoe​

@aubreeskailynn

@austynparksandpizza​

@fandom-life-12​

@illyrianprincess​

@osugahunnyicedtea​​

@taliarosej00​

[365days365movies]

March 1, 2021: The Hobbit (1977) (Part 1)

In a hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit.

When I was 9, my school let us read a very special book, originally meant for kids, but beloved by everyone. My folks and I went to Borders Books (FUCK ME, I miss Borders), and we got an illustrated copy of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit. I can’t find that book, but if I ever find it again, Imma buy it IMMEDIATELY, I tell you what. And...oh shit, it’s on Amazon for $12? 

Well. I just made that purchase, I guess. But yeah, I loved that book when I was a kid, and this was during the same year that Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy began, with Fellowship, of course. And I wouldn’t end up watching those until a few years later, but I loved those too when I saw them. And I’ve NEVER seen the abridged version, by the way, I’ve only ever seen the extended editions.

Although, I can’t call myself a hardcore fan. I’ve never read the Silmarillion, for example. Although, weirdly, I wanted it as a kid at some point, so I was almost there. But no, I ended up getting into comic books hardcore instead, so I can’t tell you the history of Tom Bombadil, but I can tell you about at least one of the fuckin’ 87 tieles that the Legion of Super-Heroes has been involved in. I’m not gonna like it though.

...Yes, I will, who am I kidding, I love the Legion. Anyway, I’ve still always been a fan of the franchise, and I was extremely excited when Jackson announced that he’d be doing an adaptation of The Hobbit! Seriously, I WAS FUCKING PUMPED, you have no idea. I re-read the book, I was super-excited...and then Harry Potter changed EVERYTHING. Kind of.

See, Harry Potter’s development as a two films made from one book seemed to kick off a trend. Breaking Dawn and Mockingjay are the two that immediately come to mind, as does this film. However, to be fair...that’s probably a coincidence. Yeah, this film was originally developed as two parts, WAY before Deathly Hallows got that treatment. And even then, Jackson and Del Toro had difficulty breaking it up into two parts, and three ended up being easier. Still...the change from two-to-three does feel a little connected to that trend.

Anyway, in celebration of that decision, I’m gonna break this review into three parts! Yes. Really. I want to see if it works. And so, let’s talk about the other most famous adaptation of this book by talking about its creators.

Yup. Rankin-Bass did 2D-animated cartoons, too! And this was one of their most famous ones, dating back to 1977. But wait! There’s more! This was followed by Ralph Bakshi’s version of Lord of the Rings by a different studio. You know, this one?

Yeah, that one. It was only based on the first two books, Fellowship and Towers. But it was technically unconnected to the Rankin-Bass version. Which is why it was REALLY weird when Rankin-Bass came out with an adaptation of the third book, Return of the King, right afterwards!

BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE. Because both of Rankin-Bass’ specials were animated by a Japanese studio called Topcraft, who’d actually worked with Rankin-Bass for years. But then, they went bankrupt a few years later, and was bought by Isao Takahata, Toshio Suzuki, and...Hayao Miyazaki. And it was renamed as...

So, this is a Hobbit adaptation produced by the Rudolph people and animated by the people who would eventually become Studio Ghibli. Well, uh...holy fucking shit. Let’s DO THIS BABY. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/3)

As we’re wont to do in this story, we head to Hobbiton in the Shire, where we meet Bilbo Baggins (Orson Bean). A simple Hobbit in a simple home, with a happy and simple life. But one day, he’s approached by Gandalf (John Huston), who seeks a burglar to help with the mission of a group of dwarves, led by Thorin Oakenshield (Hans Conried).

We also immediately start off with two songs from the original book, and I have to say that I like them a but better in the Jackson movies, but they’re still well performed here. Anyway, after dinner, the true goal of their quest is given. Beneath Lonely Mountain, the ancestral home of the Dwarves, there was a kingdom ruled by the King Under the Mountain, Thorin’s grandfather.

Through reading the lyrics of the song “Far over the Misty Mountains,” Thorin tells the tale of the takeover of the Dwarves’ great golden hoard by the dragon Smaug. Bilbo is tasked to help the Dwarves steal back the treasure stolen from them. And, while he’s extremely reluctant to be a part of all this, Gandalf basically forces him to, the pushy bastard. And Bilbo’s Greatest Adventure now lies ahead!

Speaking of, here’s the song “The Greatest Adventure”, sung by Glenn Yarborough, who is the living personification of vibrato. Fuckin’ seriously, this guy’s voice is ridiculous, but I love it so much. As the night passes underneath Glenn Yarborough’s hypnotically shaky voice, and uncertain, Bilbo stares out at the moon. Once it’s over, we’re on our way to the Misty Mountains.

Bilbo’s having a tough time with the long journey and rough weather, and it doesn’t get much better when they encounter a trio of trolls. They send out Bilbo to try and steal some mutton from them, but he’s IMMEDIATELY a failure, and also manages to tell the trolls that the dwarves are present. Nice one, Bilbo. The trolls catch all of the dwarves, although Bilbo manages to escape. 

The trolls argue about how to cook the dwarves, but before they get to do anything, Gandalf shows up and summons the dawn, turning the trolls into stone and saving the dwarves. While they’re initially quite frustrated by Bilbo’s failure, he makes it up by discovering a horde of goods and weapons stolen by the trolls. This is also where Bilbo gets his classic weapon, Sting.

Gandalf, cheeky bastard that he is, suddenly reveals a map that he’s kept secret from Thorin, its rightful owner. Bilbo, a classic cartomaniac, is able to interpret the map. But there are also runes that they can’t quite read. And so, Gandalf brings them to his friend, Elrond (), who’s wearing a sick-ass glittery tiara that’s hovering off his head. How come Hugo Weaving didn’t have that?

Anyway, Elrond identifies the swords that Thorin and Gandalf grabbed as Orcrist, the Goblin-Cleaver and Glamdring, the Foe-Hammer, because FUCK YEAH, BABY, those are some fuckin’ NAMES! WHOOOOOO!

Anyway, he also points them in the direction of the mountain, and shows them hidden features to the map. They head through the mountains after this, and rest in a cave. Unfortunately, this cave is on Goblin territory, and the group (sans Gandalf, who’s disappeared to make out with Cate Blanchett or whatever) is quickly ambushed by a group of now-horned Goblins, who chant their song as they go “Down, Down, to Goblin-Town”. Which is a song that I love, unironically. It compels me to sing along.

The Goblins nearly kill them when they discover Orcrist in Thorin’s possession, but they’re saved by the sudden appearance of Gandalf with the glowing sword Glamdring. He kills the Great Goblin, and the group run out with the Goblins in hot pursuit. Well, except for Bilbo.

Yeah, Bilbo falls into a cavern below the mountain, and the dwarves think him gone for good. However, he’s miraculously safe on the ground, having landed in an underground aquifer, in which lives THE GREATEST CHARACTER IN THE MIDDLE-EARTH FRANCHISE FUCKIN’ AT ME I DARE YOU

And just so we’re clear, I’m not talking about the film version only, I’m talking about Gollum/Smeagol in general. Granted, I don’t want a film starring him or anything (coughCruellacoughcoughMaleficentcoughcoughClaricecoughcough), but I love this dissociative little dude so much. He’s one of my favorite fantasy characters in general, and is also maybe the best example of a sympathetic villain, in film at least.

OK, to be fair, I love Andy Serkis’ version of the character a LOT, like a LOT a lot, and it’s a great version of the character. OK, so what do I think of this version? He’s...interesting, actually. If I’m honest, I kinda like him. This is similar to how I always pictured Gollum when I was a kid.

I mean, listen to this description from the book, yeah?

Deep down here by the dark water lived old Gollum, a small slimy creature. I don't know where he came from, nor who or what he was. He was Gollum - as dark as darkness, except for two big round pale eyes in his thin face...He was looking out of his pale lamp-like eyes for blind fish, which he grabbed with his long fingers as quick as thinking.

I dunno, that does sound more like this version of Gollum to me, just saying. Anyway, while Gollum is off fishing in the water, Bilbo gets up on the shore, where he finds a little golden ring Not important, just a ring, definitely means nothing at all, NOTHING AT ALL, NOTHING TO SEE HERE.

The hungry Gollum (Brother Theodore) happens upon Bilbo, precious, wonders if Bilbo would taste good, and is basically about to kill him for his sweet hobbit meat, before Bilbo takes out Sting. Now afraid, Gollum offers a game of riddles. The two make a deal: if Bilbo wins at a game of riddles, Gollum will show him the  way out. But if Gollum wins, precious will eat him raaaaaaaw and wrrrrrrrrrriggling!

The riddles commence, in a super-fuckin’-classic moment, and also ends with maybe the most bullshit moment in all of fantasy lore. After clever riddles with answers involving eggs, wind, and time, Bilbo’s last riddle is “What’s in my pocket?” The fuck, Bilbo, that’s absolute BULLSHIT!

Not that it matters. Bilbo wins, but Gollum goes to find his ring to show it to Bilbo before he takes him away. Thing is, though, that’s what was in Bilbo’s pocket, which Gollum quickly figures out, my precious. He’s about to kill Bilbo to get back his birthday present, precious, but Bilbo discovers the secret trick of the ring: it turns the wearer invisible, AND THAT WILL NEVER BE A BAD THING EVER.

Gollum thinks that Bilbo’s escaped and runs after him toward the exit. This, of course, leads Bilbo towards the exit inadvertently, and he follows Gollum, then jumps over him to get back. To which Gollum screams the following:

Thief! Thief! Baggins! We hates it! Hates it! Forever!

I hear you, buddy. I hear you. Well, once Bilbo escapes, he reconvenes with the rest, and shares his adventure in the cave, but leaves out the ring. And Gandalf seems to know, based on his dialogue. And I checked, and he figured it out in the book and Jackson movie, too. And I gotta say...WHAT THE FUCK GANDALF

I mean...DUDE. CHECK UP on that shit. Do you wizard job, man! If you’d been like, “Dude...you didn’t find a magic ring that turns you invisible, ight, because we’re FUCKED if you did”, NONE OF THE LORD OF THE RINGS WOULD’VE HAPPENED, AND BOROMIR WOULD STILL BE ALIVE

Everybody talks about the fuckin’ eagles, but WHY DO I NEVER HEAR ANYONE MENTION THIS SHIT? Gandalf the Grey: Middle-Earth’s most irresponsible asshole, I swear...

This seems like a good place to pause, actually. See you in the next part!

[fandomrewrites]

Season 2; Episode 12: Master Plan

Hello all! This is the last chapter of season 2! I am not sure when I will get the chance to start posting season 3a but most of it (unedited) is on my Wattpad. I hope you all enjoyed this season and as always constructive criticism is appreciated!

Season 2; Episode 12: Master Plan

Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend, Isaac Lahey x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and mention of death

Word Count: 3,392

Season 2 Masterlist

As soon as we hear the scream our heads whip around to try and pinpoint where it came from. "Go! You need to help." Isaac says quickly.

This causes me to look back over to him in shock, "Not until you can come with me. I'm not leaving you by yourself. Gerard almost just killed you!"

After three agonizingly long minutes, Isaac could finally move again. He was still slightly shaky but I kept an arm around him as we started to move back to the field.

We quickly spotted a growing crowd and pushed our way to the front, making it to Scott's side. When Scott sees us there he gesture's to the person on the ground, "Look."

We follow Scott's eye to see Jackson bloody and not moving. His fingertips are covered in blood, matching the puncture wounds on his body. "He did it to himself?" Isaac asks, just as confused as me.

"Gerard wanted this. I don't know why but he wouldn't have done it without Gerard telling him to." I say looking on as sirens can be heard in the distance.

My mom is by his side trying to help, "Hold his head tilted up, okay?" She tells Lydia, who is in tears watching her ex-boyfriend.

Lydia nods and gently puts her hands underneath Jackson's head. I make my way behind her to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. My focus is broken from the scene in front of me when I hear Sheriff Stilinski call out, "Where's Stiles? Where's my son?" 

Isaac, Scott, and I share a look of concern as we look back at the Sheriff, "Where's Stiles? Where the hell's my son?"

As the ambulance arrives two EMTs put Jackson in a body bag and load him into the back of the ambulance. As all this is happening I hold Lydia tightly, letting her cry into my shoulder. 

"I got you Lydia, I got you." I whisper gently, reassuring her that I'm here. I lightly comb my fingers through her hair and place a kiss on the crown of her head.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 Sheriff Stilinski is talking with some deputies, Scott, and Isaac about his son disappearing. "Will you be okay by yourself while I go help look for Stiles?"

Lydia nods but doesn't say anything, "Are you sure Lyds?" I ask gently, laying a hand on her cheek.

"Yeah, don't worry about me." She tries to smile but it doesn't meet her eyes.

I lightly run my thumb under her eye wiping away a stray tear, "Call me if you need me, alright?" She nods once more, "Seriously I will drop everything to be with you if you need me. Just say the word."

"I know (Y/N/N). But Stiles needs you more right now. I'm going to get cleaned up then see if there's anything I can do too." I hesitantly nod, finally walking away from my best friend and over to Isaac and Scott.

The two boys were waiting for me in the locker room. I walk in just in time to see Scott ripping open Stiles' locker. The metal door clatters to the floor as Scott digs through the inside, finally pulling out one of Stiles' shirts.

"You're going to find him by scent?" Isaac asks.

"We all are. Here, smell this..." Scott holds out one of Stiles' shoes for Isaac to take. I wrinkle up my nose in disgust.

"Why do you get his shirt and I get a shoe?" Isaac asks.

Scott doesn't answer though, his brown eyes locked on something behind us. Turning around I quickly spot Derek, "We need to talk." He says, stepping forward.

Then stepping around the corner Peter Hale comes out, "All of us."

"Holy shit," Scott breathes out.

At the same time my eyes widen and I say, "What the fuck."

Scott speaks once more, "What the hell is this?"

"You know, I thought the same thing when I saw you talking to Gerard at the Sheriff's station." Derek replies.

"Okay, hold on. He threatened to kill my mom. And I needed to get close to him. What was I supposed to do?"

"I'm going to have to side with Scott on this one. Have you seen his mother? Gorgeous." Peter pipes in.

"Shut up." Derek, Scott, and I all say in unison.

Peter mumbles out, "Just an observation."

Isaac then leans over to me and Scott asking, "Who is he?"

Scott replies, still glaring at Peter, "Derek's uncle. A little while back, he tried to kill all of us so we set him on fire and Derek slashed his throat."

"He's also the one who bit Scott." I add.

Isaac nods, "Good to know."

"How is he alive?" I question the Alpha.

"Long, complicated story. Wolfsbane, full moon, it's a whole thing." Peter answers.

"The short version is he knows how to stop Jackson. And maybe how to save him." Derek says.

"That should really help now. Since he's dead." Isaac deadpans.

"What?"

"Jackson's dead. It happened on the field." Scott confirms.

Derek and Peter share a nervous look, "Why's nobody taking this as good news?" Isaac asks.

Instead of Peter or Derek answering, I speak, "Because like I said before, Gerard did it for a reason."

Peter smiles, "I always knew you were a smart one (Y/N)."

I roll my eyes at the werewolf as Derek speaks, "But why?"

"Exactly what we need to find out. And something tells me the window of opportunity is closing. Quickly."

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 Now at the burnt Hale house, Peter makes his way over to the staircase as Scott takes his phone out at the sound of a message alert. "They found Stiles." He sighs in relief.

"Oh thank God." I mumble, taking out my phone to let Lydia know and to double check that she was okay.

Derek, watching his uncle, speaks, "I told you I looked everywhere."

"But you didn't look here." Peter says. He reaches carefully along the base of one of the steps. He snaps a panel, freeing it. The other three boys and I look on as Peter reaches inside and pulls out a large and dusty leather case.

"What is that? A book?" Derek asks.

"No, it's a laptop. What century are you living in?" I have to stop myself from laughing at Peter's reply. "In the few days after I came out of the coma I started transferring everything we had. Fortunately, the Argents aren't the only ones who keep records."

As Peter is talking, Scott steps away answering his phone, "Mom, I can't talk right now."

After the quick phone call Scott comes back over to us, "Mom says she needs to show me something important."

"I'll stay with them. She still doesn't know about me being a werewolf now. I want to wait to tell her after all this is done." Scott nods after I finish talking.

"Just be careful, okay?" He looks at me in concern.

"What, you don't trust us with her?" Peter asks.

We both turn our glares on him, "Definitely not. And if you try anything-"

I interrupt my twin, "I will personally rip you apart limb from limb. It will be so painful you'll wish you stayed dead."

Scott shakes his head at my statement, "I'll be fine. Go." I say, watching as Isaac and Scott leave together.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 Once the boys get to the hospital Scott calls me. "They say he's in some kind of transparent casing made from the venom coming out of his claws."

Derek scrunches his face as Peter replies, "That sounds sufficiently terrifying." Peter clicks through the laptop, scrolling through text as fast as he can while Derek and I watch from behind him.

"They're also saying he's starting to move."

"Okay, I think I found something. Apparently what we've seen of Jackson so far is just the Kanima's Beta shape."

"Meaning what? It can turn into something bigger?" Derek asks.

"Bigger and badder." Derek and I look over Peter's shoulder's at a picture on the screen.

"He's turning into that?" Peter nods in confirmation. "That has wings." Derek states.

"I can see that."

"Scott, can you bring him to us?" I ask my brother.

"Not sure we have time for that." My twin replies.

Derek waves me back over to the computer as Peter starts talking, "Look at this. Someone actually did an animation of it. Maybe it's a little less frightening than we-"

Peter is interrupted by a screaming that comes from the laptop when he clicks on the animation, "Nope, not at all." He says as he slams the laptop shut.

"We'll meet them halfway." Peter says looking at me. 

I nod as I start speaking to Scott once more, "You need to get him out of there. Like now."

Derek and I move to the front door but Peter stops us, "We need Lydia."

"What why?" I ask quickly.

Derek starts speaking before Peter can answer, "What do you think she's going to be able to do? Jackson could rip her in half just by looking at her."

"Physical strength isn't everything, Derek. You know why we call women the weaker sex? Because it annoys us that they're so much stronger emotionally." Peter replies.

"There's no time-" Derek tries to argue.

"Exactly the problem. We're rushing. Moving too fast. And while everyone knows a moving target is easier to hit, here we are racing right into Gerard's cross hairs."

"If I have the chance to kill Jackson, I'm taking it."

I watch as Derek leaves, "Do you really think Lydia can save him?"

"Yes, I do."

"I'll get her to meet us then." I nod. "But if she gets hurt I swear-"

"You'll rip me apart limb from limb?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 As we wait for Scott and Isaac to arrive with Jackson I ask Peter, "With all that information you have on the computer, is there anything about Zeta werewolves?"

Peter turns to me, his lips tugging up to a smile, "You're a Zeta?"

I shrug, "I talked to Deaton. That's what he thinks, but he's not 100% sure."

Peter nods, "I've never met one myself but it doesn't surprise me. I told you that I thought you would make a powerful werewolf. Though I didn't realize just how powerful at the time."

Before I could respond we heard a car pull up. I can then hear the voice of Mr. Argent call, "Where's Derek?"

Derek runs, feet pounding over the pavement, he leaps and does a perfect flip. He lands in front of the hunter and two teenagers, eyes glowing red.

I shake my head as Peter rolls his eyes and says, "Somebody certainly enjoys making an entrance."

A few words are exchanged before Derek makes his way over to the body bag, "Okay, hold on a second. You said you knew how to save him." Scott says.

"We're past that." Derek replies.

"What about Lydia-"

Derek interrupts, "Think about it, Scott. Gerard controls him now. He's made Jackson his personal guard dog. And he put all this in motion so that Jackson could become even bigger and more powerful."

"No..." Mr. Argent chokes out. We all turn to him as he continues talking, "He wouldn't do that. If Jackson's a dog, then he's turning rabid. And my father wouldn't let a rabid dog live."

"No offense Mr. Argent, but your father is evil." I bluntly say.

Gerard then steps out of the shadows, "I'm not evil (Y/N)," I scoff as he continues, "Something that dangerous, that out-of-control... is better off dead."

A clawed hand then springs up from the body bag, digging into Derek's chest. I gasp in shock as the Alpha spits blood and roars in agony. A partially transformed Jackson stands, lifting Derek over his head and tossing him across the room.

I stand in shock as Scott slowly retreats from Gerard. The hunter begins to speak, "Well done to the last, Scott. Like the concerned friend you are, you brought Jackson to Derek to save him. You just didn't realize you were also bringing Derek to me."

Arrows soar past Gerard and land in Isaac's leg then his stomach. "Isaac!" I yell, rushing over to his side.

Mr. Argent takes out his gun and starts shooting at the Kanima. He only manages to hit him once, though it doesn't do much damage. Derek, now recovered, is back on his feet in full werewolf form.

Scott and Isaac are also transformed, ready to attack.

Not knowing how to control my transformation, I keep my eyes peeled for Allison who is clearly out for blood. I spot her just as she steps out from her hiding place, cutting Isaac with a knife. 

Isaac falls to his knees in pain. Allison moves to end Derek's life. But before she gets the chance Jackson stops her. "Not yet, sweetheart." Gerard says.

Allison, shocked, asks her grandfather, "What are you doing?"

"He's doing what he came here to do." Scott answers.

"Then you know?" Gerard asks Scott, though he already knows the answer. 

"What's he talking about?" Allison asks.

Gerard ignores her as he continues to talk to Scott, "It was that night outside the hospital, wasn't it? When I threatened your mother? I knew I saw something in your eyes. You could smell it, couldn't you?"

Isaac and I quickly realize what is happening as we both say together, "He's dying."

"I am. I have been for a while now. Unfortunately, science doesn't have a cure for cancer yet." His cold eyes move to Derek, "But the supernatural does."

Mr. Argent pushes himself off the floor as the Kanima wraps his hand around Allison's neck, "You monster." He spits out.

"Not yet." Gerard then turns back to Scott.

Allison asks, "What are you doing?"

"You'd kill her too?" Mr. Argent asks his father.

"When it comes to survival? I'd kill my own son. Scott?"

Weary, Scott slowly approaches Derek. Derek eyes Scott as he says, "Don't. You know he's going to kill me right after. He'll become an Alpha."

"It's true." Gerard speaks up, "But I think he knows that already. Don't you, Scott?" Scott hauls the Alpha up, "He knows the ultimate prize is Allison. Do this small task for me and they can be together. You're the part that doesn't fit, Derek. And if you haven't learned yet, there's just no competing with young love."

"Scott, stop." Derek pants, "Don't-- Scott!"

"I'm sorry. But I have to." Scott replies. He digs his claws into Derek's neck, making the Alpha open his mouth. Gerard rolls up his sleeve, holding his arm out in front of the werewolves. Scott shoves Derek's head forward, his teeth sinking into the man's skin.

As Gerard tears his arm free, Derek collapses back onto the ground. Gerard laughs, holding up his bloody arm. Black blood starts dripping down the wound on the hunters arm. "What..." He mumbles out. "What is this? What did you do?"

"Everyone kept telling me Gerard always has a plan. Well, I had a plan too." Scott says. Gerard reaches into his pocket, pulling out his pill box and pouring some into his hand.

He crushes the pills in his hand, gray ash bursts from the capsules, "Mountain ash." He says through clenched teeth.

Derek looks on in surprise, "Why didn't you tell me?" He asks Scott.

"Because you may be an Alpha. But you're not mine." He states.

Gerard looks up at the Kanima, seething in anger, "Kill them. Kill them all!"

Jackson tosses Allison away from him and whirls around to attack Scott. Before he has the chance to, a vehicle's engine fills the warehouse. Stiles' blue jeep comes barreling in, hitting Jackson.

"Did I get him?" Stiles asks from the driver's seat, eyes squeezed shut. I almost want to laugh. 

The Kanima leaps onto the hood of the jeep as Lydia from the passenger seat screams, "Jackson!" She opens the door, stepping out of the car as the Kanima blinks in confusion. "Jackson?" She says once more.

Lydia holds up her hand, something tightly gripped in her palm. Jackson raises his hand as if to strike her but pauses when Lydia opens her hand, showing him his house key.

I watch on as Jackson's eyes turn human once more. He looks over to Derek and let's his hands fall to his sides. Derek takes this moment to dig his claws into the teenagers rib cage. Peter, finally making his appearance, rushes out to let his claws go through Jackson's back.

Both werewolves pull away from Jackson. As Jackson staggers forward, ready to fall, Lydia takes him in her arms. She eases him down gently, Jackson mumbling out, "Do you... still...."

He doesn't have to make out all of the words, Lydia knows what he's asking, "I do. I still love you." She answers as tears stream down her face. I stand back watching, tears also falling freely down the face at the site of one of my best friends taking his last breath.

Lydia gently places the key on his chest. I make my way over to her and lightly pull her up, giving her a comforting hug.

Too focused on Lydia, I almost don't notice the sound of claws scratching cement. Lydia and I both pull away from the hug, turning to look at Jackson. His hands are moving and his wounds start to heal.

He lifts his head and sucks in a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opens them they begin to glow blue. His mouth opens to reveal fangs growing. As he pushes up to his knees, strands of hair start to appear on his cheeks, growing towards his ears which now have points.

Jackson is finally a werewolf. 

Once he stands at his full height, he slowly starts to turn back into his human self. Finally, Lydia runs into his arms. The two exes sharing an emotional hug.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 The next day I decided to talk to my mom about me being a werewolf. "Hey mom, you got a minute?"

"Of course," She brightly smiles.

"So you obviously know how Scott is a werewolf..." I trail off waiting for her to respond.

"I do. I didn't realize that you knew though." She pauses, "Though I shouldn't be surprised, he could never hide anything from you." 

I giggle, "You're telling me. Anyways, that night at the sheriff station, with Matt." My mom nods to encourage me to continue. "Matt shot me, just before you got there. I almost died. Derek had to give me the bite for me to survive."

She looks slightly shocked, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" 

"At the time Gerard didn't know that I was turned. We thought it would be safer if less people knew. Plus we didn't want to throw that at you while you were still in shock about Scott."

My mom nods, "So you Scott are both werewolves?"

"Yeah, but we're different kinds. Well kinda. I'm still learning too."

"What do you mean different kinds?"

"Well, at first we were just aware of three different kinds. Alpha - which is what Derek is. He's the leader of the pack. Beta - which is what Scott is. Beta's are the other pack members. Omega is the last one. Those are the wolves that don't have a pack."

"So what are you?"

"I'm a Zeta. Or at least that's what we're thinking. It's a type of Beta but with different abilities." For the rest of the after I took my time to explain to my mom what a Zeta werewolf was. At least I explained what I could. I also spent the time answering any other questions about werewolves that she had. 

The day after I spent with Lydia. Explaining to her what she didn't understand about what happened the last few weeks. And of course apologizing nonstop for lying to her. Though she understood that I thought it was in her best interest. 

I guess you could say that now with our Kanima problem solved and the important people in my life finally understanding what was going on, life was taking a turn for the better.

[darnloveablecharacters]

Prove Me Wrong, Part Twenty-Seven: Burned

Series Summary:  Caithwistë, born from the only known pairing of an elf and a dwarf has spent most of her life in hiding. When an old friend, (or a certain meddling wizard) finds her in the woods, everything changes. Now, she will have the chance to prove the world wrong about her value. A ‘The Hobbit’ fanfiction based off of the following imagines from @imaginexhobbit: This One is the basis of the story, and This One and This One will be added in later. If you recognize it, it belongs to Professor Tolkien or Peter Jackson. But, as usual, the story and all of the mistakes are my own!

Prove Me Wrong - Masterlist

Chapter Notes: Super excited to post this one! This means we’re just one step closer to the battle! *squeee*

Warnings for this Chapter: mentions of burns, mostly angst

Tagged: @imaginesreblogged @chevycastiel1967 @rices4me93 @tschrist1​ If you want to be added just let me know!

Caithwistë walked through a dark passage. It seemed as if an eternity had passed since she last visited this place in her dreams. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the heavy chamber doors open to find him there. He was turned away from her, but he was there nonetheless. “I did not expect to find you here, My King.” She said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Thorin raised his head at the sound of her voice, but still did not turn. She padded toward him slowly, reaching out to touch him. As soon as her fingers wrapped around his arm, she jerked her hand back harshly as pain coursed through her. She glanced down at her hand and gasped at the marks that were spreading. The contact had burned her. “Thorin?” She asked warily, holding her burned hand tightly to ward off the pain.

Thorin turned to her slowly and she let out a shaky breath at the sight of him. His eyes were not the familiar blue that she had known, instead, they burned like fire. Glowing brightly with life and somehow appearing dead at the same time. “You should be with me, by my side.” He said slowly. His voice had even changed. Every word came out as if it were a low growl, the voice of Smaug.

Caithwistë took a small step away, shaking her head as if it would rid her of the sight. “I do not understand.” She said weakly.

Thorin sneered at her. “You abandoned me, but all will be forgiven if you return now.” He said, holding his hand out to her.

Caithwistë regarded his outstretched hand for a moment, then took another step back. “Thorin, I did not abandon you. You sent me away.”

Thorin took swift steps in her direction, bearing down on her as he would an enemy. “Lies.” He growled. Caithwistë had not realized she was still moving away until her back hit a wall. She was more frightened of him now than she had ever been. Thorin’s eyes flashed down her quivering form and he scoffed, turning to move back to his original position. “It does not matter now.” He said, facing her again from the opposite side of the room. “You are mine, and I protect all that belongs to me.”

“This is wrong. This is not you. Thorin please, tell me what is happening to you!” Caithwistë pleaded.

Thorin smiled at her and spread his arms. “I am home. The wealth of Erebor is once again mine, and I will never lose it again.”

Caithwistë’s eyes flicked to the still open doors and back to Thorin, hoping he missed the movement. “You are unwell, Thorin. Please tell me how I can help you.” She said, taking a small step away from the wall.

Thorin frowned at her. “I am the wealthiest of all, but my Queen is not by my side. I only wish for what is mine to be returned to me.”

Caithwistë frowned at his words. “I am not a treasure to be hoarded. My heart does belong to you, but I know you would never speak to me in this way.” With that, she simply gave up her façade and began to walk toward the door.

“You will abandon me again?” Thorin asked from behind her.

She stopped at the door, turning to look at the beast disguised as Thorin that stood before her. “I will never truly abandon Thorin Oakenshield.” She said brusquely. As she turned to leave again, she saw another flash of fire in in front of her and screamed while Thorin laughed sinisterly behind her.

~

Caithwistë woke up gasping for air. As she attempted to catch her breath her eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings. She was still in the small room she had found after they reached Dale. The morning light was pouring in through the gaping hole that had been left from Smaug’s first attack. She was safe.

“It was only a dream.” She muttered to herself. She moved to stand but hissed when she placed her hand on the ground and it stung. Taking another shaky breath, she slowly turned her palm up to inspect it and let out a gasp. It was burned, with the same marks she had received in her dream. “Just a coincidence.” She told herself, shaking off her fear. She quickly grabbed a clean cloth and wrapped her hand then strode out of the room hoping for something to distract her. In a moment that came as both a relief and frustration, she walked out to the sight of Thranduil and his army waiting in the courtyard as carts of food filed into the town.

She approached just as Bard was addressing Thranduil. “You have saved us. I do not know how to thank you.”

Thranduil gave him a disinterested look. “Your gratitude is misplaced. I did not come on your behalf. I came to reclaim something of mine.”

Caithwistë scoffed. “Of course, you would only show when there is a benefit to you.”

Thranduil’s eyes snapped to her at her remark. “What is That doing here?” He asked with a grimace.

Caithwistë smirked. “Thranduil, how lovely to see you again now that the dragon has been slain and the danger has passed.” She said with a mock bow.

Thranduil’s hand moved to his blade but Bard stepped in between them, shooting Caithwistë a look of warning. “She is our guest; she helped our people during and after the attack.” He said, holding his hands up.

“So be it.” Thranduil said. He turned his great elk to his army and tilted his head toward the Mountain, silently commanding them to begin their march.

Bard shared a concerned glance with Caithwistë before they took off after Thranduil. “Wait!” Bard pleaded. “Please, wait! You will go to war over a handful of gems?” He demanded.

“The heirlooms of my people are not lightly forsaken.” Thranduil said in a bored tone.

Bard shook his head. “We are allies in this. My people also have claim upon the riches in that Mountain. Let me speak with Thorin.”

Thranduil gave him a sidelong glance, eyes flicking to Caithwistë before responding. “You would try to reason with the Dwarf.”

“To avoid war? Yes.” Bard stated calmly.

Thranduil stared him down, but Bard held his ground and Thranduil eventually waved his hand in a shooing gesture. “Have it your way then.”

Bard nodded and grabbed Caithwistë’s arm. “Come with me.” He whispered.

She nodded and began to follow him until Thranduil spoke again. “No. That will stay with me.”

Caithwistë huffed and turned back to him. “You do not command me.”

“No, but I do command the lives of all in this city now.” Thranduil retorted smugly.

Caithwistë frowned, knowing what he meant. He could easily take all that he had given back and would do it simply on a whim. “Go.” She muttered with frustration to Bard.

Bard hesitated, eyes moving between the two of them nervously. “Do you promise that she will not be harmed?” He asked Thranduil.

Thranduil looked as if the question had hurt him. “I give you my word.” He said, placing his hand over his heart. “We will simply watch together from the bridge.”

Bard looked as if he wished to protest but Caithwistë shook her head, urging him to drop it. Bard nodded at her and gave one last look to Thranduil before dashing toward the gate.

“Come, half-breed.” Thranduil said, riding his great elk forward. Caithwistë had to jog to keep up with its long strides but it did not take long for them to reach the bridge and they watched in silence for a few moments as Bard rode swiftly toward the Mountain. “Impressive, how you have fooled so many into trusting you.”

Caithwistë crossed her arms. “It is no trickery. It is simply the reward that comes for caring for something other than oneself.”

“Perhaps.” Thranduil mused. “Betrayal comes in many forms though. Tell me, do you believe that Thorin will hold to his word?”

Caithwistë flexed her burned hand as her mind wandered to her dream. The image bothered her, but she still held to the hope that it was nothing more than her own fear manifesting itself in the visions of her mind. “I trust Thorin.” She said firmly.

“Oh?” Thranduil asked, amused. “Then tell me half-breed, why are you not by his side?”

“That is none of you concern.” She snapped.

“He cast you away did he not?” Thranduil continued mercilessly. “He found out what you are and deemed you unworthy.”

“That is not what happened.” Caithwistë growled, clenching her uninjured fist.

Thranduil still continued, amused at her feeble attempt to hide the truth. “I wonder, what does it feel like to be cast away by those you love most?”

“I am not certain, where is your son?” Caithwistë asked bitterly.

Thranduil’s eyes snapped to her, the edge of anger beginning to show through his calm mask. “That is none of your concern.” He said, face falling back into disinterest. “Besides, the dragon slayer returns.”

Caithwistë glanced to the approaching man and frowned. He looked upset. “What happened Bard? What did Thorin say?” She asked fearfully.

“He will give us nothing.” Bard replied with a scowl.

“Such a pity.” Thranduil said cocking his head to the side. “But still you tried.”

Bard shook his head with frustration. “I do not understand. Why?” He asked, turning to Caithwistë. “Why would he risk war?”

Caithwistë just shook her head. “Thorin is honorable.” She said meekly, mind racing.

“It is fruitless to reason with them. They understand only one thing.” Thranduil said, drawing his sword. The sound made Caithwistë jump and she glanced between the pair fearfully.

Thranduil shot her a victorious smile and turned the Great Elk back to the city. “We attack at dawn. Are you with us?” He called out to Bard.

Bard looked back to Caithwistë and sighed. “I am sorry Miss. I know you care for them, but I don’t know what else I can do.”

“I understand Bard. You must do what you feel is right for your people.” Caithwistë replied grimly.

Bard nodded, equally as disturbed and guided his horse forward to the city to ready his men for battle.

~

Caithwistë had never felt so torn in her life. She watched with a grim detachment as the fishermen who had never wielded anything deadlier than a fishing pike practiced at swords.

“If it does come to war, we will spare the Dwarves if we can.” Bard said, stepping to her side. “We only wish for what was promised. We only want to survive.”

Caithwistë smiled. “I must admit, I simply appreciate that you did not imprison me for my attachment to the Company.”

“That would not do us any good.” Bard mused. “I don’t believe there is a place to lock you up here.” He said, giving Caithwistë a sidelong glance.

Caithwistë met his gaze and he smirked, making them both dissolve into a fit of laughter. It felt good to laugh, even though everything felt so wrong.

As their laughter died down, the sound of Alfrid’s voice rang out in the courtyard. “No, no, no!”

“What is it now?” Bard groaned, walking toward the commotion.

“Oi, you! Pointy hat!” Alfrid called again.

“Pointy hat?” Caithwistë asked no one in particular, excitedly moving to follow Bard.

“Yes, you. We don’t want no tramps, beggars nor vagabonds around here. We’ve got enough trouble without the likes of you. Off you go. On your horse.” Alfrid was saying.

“Who’s in charge here?” Came the unmistakable voice of Mithrandir. At the sound, Caithwistë quickened her pace.

“Who is asking?” Bard asked warily, stopping a few paces in front of her.

“Mithrandir!” Caithwistë cried when she saw him. She dashed around Bard and slammed into the wizard who let out an ‘oof’ as she hugged him fiercely.

“Caithwistë! It is so good to see you, My Dear.” He said with a chuckle. He pushed her away slightly to examine her. “And what on Earth has happened to your hand?”

Caithwistë glanced down at her wrapped hand and grimaced. “Dragon fire.” She said waving it nonchalantly. Mithrandir narrowed his eyes at her but chose to say nothing as she took him in as well. He looked as if he had been traveling for months without ever stopping. “Where have you been?” She asked him, furrowing her eyebrows.

Mithrandir looked uncomfortable, as he does when he intends to avoid a topic. “That is a story for later, right now we must speak with those in charge.”

Caithwistë rolled her eyes at the expected dodge, but motioned to Bard nonetheless. “That would be Bard here.” Bard nodded respectfully at his name.

“Mithrandir?” Bard asked holding his hand out.

“You may call me, Gandalf.” Mithrandir said with a smile, shaking the man’s hand. He glanced around then, noting the training men and elves. “I suppose this means Thranduil is here as well?” He asked both of them.

“Yes.” Caithwistë said through gritted teeth, jerking her head toward the well-lit tent the Elven King was residing in.

“Very well.” Mithrandir said, tone growing serious. “We all have much to discuss. Lead the way, My Lady.”

Caithwistë huffed but led Mithrandir and the dubious Bard toward Thranduil’s tent, wondering what the wizard could possibly be plotting now.

~

Caithwistë remained silent while Mithrandir pleaded with Thranduil to see reason. She could hardly believe herself that what he told them could be true. Sauron, the Lord of the Rings has returned and now an army of Orcs, bred for war, was on their way to the Mountain to claim it. “So much for staying out of the politics of the world.” She muttered quietly to herself. She remained in a daze until Mithrandir raised his voice.

“Since when has my council counted for so little? What do you think I’m trying to do?” He demanded.

“I think you’re trying to save your Dwarvish friends.” Thranduil replied with a disdainful glance to Caithwistë. “And I admire your loyalty to them. But it does not dissuade me from my cause.” He stood to his full height then and bore down on Mithrandir. “You started this, Mithrandir, you will forgive me if I finish it.” He said softly before turning to the tent opening. “Are the archers in position?” He asked the Elf standing guard.

“Yes, My Lord.” The Elf replied respectfully.

“Give the order. If anything moves on that Mountain, kill it. The Dwarves are out of time.” Thranduil commanded, and the Elf bowed before leaving to give the command.

“You cannot do this!” Caithwistë cried. She leapt toward him, but Mithrandir grabbed her and held her in place.

“I already have.” Thranduil replied smugly.

Caithwistë struggled against Mithrandir’s grip but he kept a firm hold on her. “You, bowman! Do you agree with this?” Mithrandir asked Bard, who looked as if he wished he could be anywhere else in this moment. “Is gold so important to you? Would you buy it with the blood of Dwarves?”

Bard regarded Caithwistë who was now watching him with glassy eyes while she struggled against the wizard. “It will not come to that.” He said, trying to reassure her. “This is a fight they cannot win.”

“That won’t stop them.” Bilbo said from behind them. Mithrandir was so shocked that he lost his grip on Caithwistë, but she was also frozen in place at Bilbo’s sudden appearance. “You think the Dwarves will surrender? They won’t. They will fight to the death to defend their own.”

“Bilbo Baggins!” Mithrandir exclaimed.

Bilbo glanced at him and gave him a toothy grin.

“Bilbo!” Caithwistë squealed, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Kili told me he had seen you in Lake Town.” Bilbo said with a chuckle as he hugged her back. He released her and gave her the same grin. “I am so relieved to see you alive.”

“If I’m not mistaken, this is the Halfling who stole the keys to my dungeons from under the nose of my guards.” Thranduil said, glaring at the poor Hobbit.

Caithwistë could not help but smile as Bilbo shuffled his feet. “Yes. Sorry about that.” He muttered bashfully. He stepped toward Thranduil cautiously, holding out a small package and placing it on the table between them. “I came to give you this.” He unwrapped the package and revealed a gem.

This was no ordinary gem though, and Caithwistë had never seen anything more beautiful. It was smoother than a river stone, and glowed brighter than the stars. Even more impressive were the colors that danced inside it, as if a rainbow had been captured and stored inside it for safe keeping. “The Arkenstone.” Caithwistë breathed in awe.

“The Heart of the Mountain. The King’s jewel.” Thranduil said with an equal reverence in his tone.

“And worth a king’s ransom.” Bard said thoughtfully as he stepped toward the table. He furrowed his eyebrows at it and glanced at Bilbo. “How is this yours to give?”

Bilbo bounced on the balls of his feet before he answered. “I took it as my fourteenth share of the treasure.” He said proudly.

“Why would you do this? You owe us no loyalty.” Bard asked him with suspicion.

“I’m not doing it for you.” Bilbo said with a shake of his head. “I know that Dwarves can be obstinate and pigheaded and difficult. And suspicious and secretive with the worst manners you can possibly imagine, but they are also brave and kind and loyal to a fault. I’ve grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can. But Thorin values this stone above all else.” He said, shooting Caithwistë an apologetic glance to which she simply shrugged. “In exchange for its return, I believe he will give you what you were owed. There will be no need for war.” He concluded.

“Bilbo…” Caithwistë sighed. If Thorin finds out what he had done, there is no telling what he would do.

Thranduil shared an intrigued look with Bard before addressing them all. “Have it your way. We will use this to barter with.” He said gesturing to the Arkenstone and Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief.

They bowed respectfully and Caithwistë followed Mithrandir and Bilbo out of the tent.

“Rest up tonight, Bilbo. You must leave on the morrow.” Mithrandir said as they walked through the city.

“What?” Bilbo asked, surprised.

“Get as far away from here as possible.” Mithrandir continued.

Bilbo stopped in his tracks and looked at Caithwistë for help, but she could give him none. She agreed with Mithrandir. “I… I’m not leaving.” He stammered.

Mithrandir stopped as well and turned to the hobbit. “Oh?”

Bilbo nodded. “You picked me as the burglar. I’m not about to leave the Company now.”

Gandalf let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. “There is no Company, not anymore. And I don’t like to think what Thorin would do when he finds out what you’ve done.”

“I’m not afraid of Thorin.” Bilbo countered.

“Well, you should be. Don’t underestimate the evil of gold. Gold over which a serpent had long brooded. Dragon-sickness seeps into the hearts of all who come to this Mountain.” Mithrandir said ominously. He quirked his head to the side and smirked at Bilbo. “Almost all.”

Mithrandir turned and called Afrid to them, sharing hushed words with him.

Bilbo glanced at Caithwistë. “And you? Do you think I should leave as well?”

Caithwistë studied him for a moment, taking in the hobbit who had come so far in this journey and survived at times where it seemed impossible. “I cannot presume to make this choice for you Bilbo.” She began, and he frowned but Caithwistë put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I can only say that I do not want you to be harmed and if that means running from here then yes, I do wish that for you.”

“And what about you?” Bilbo demanded. “Why do you get to stay, and I don’t.”

“I am a fighter. And… because this is the only place I have ever felt could be home.” She said with a sad smile. Bilbo considered that and dropped his gaze in defeat. Caithwistë glanced back to the wizard who was still speaking with Alfrid before stepping closer to Bilbo and whispering in his ear. “I know you will sneak out tonight anyway, just promise me that if you are in danger you get out of there.”

She leaned back and Bilbo smiled at her, giving a conspiratorial wink. “You have my word, Miss Caithwistë.”

Author’s Note: Okay, so I watched the movie Dodgeball shortly before I wrote this chapter and…. It actually took a lot for me to not have Caithwistë tell Thranduil to “cram it down your cramhole” lol.

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - S.S. XII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Prologue - S2E1 Part 1 - S2E2 + S2E3 Part 2 - S2E4 + S2E5 + S2E6 Part 3 -  S2E7 +S2E8 Part 4 - S2E9 + S2E10 Part 5 - S2E11 + S2E12 Part 6 Part 7 - S3AE1 Part 8 - S3AE2 + S3AE3 Part 9 - S3AE4 Part 10 - S3AE5 + S3AE6 Part 11 - S3AE7 + S3AE8 Part 12 - S3AE9 + S3AE10 + S3AE11

Word-count: 5k+

A/N: Hope you guys like it!! 

“Are you sure about this?” you asked Cora. “After we go in there, there’s no going back.” 

“I don’t want to go back,” she said. She gave you one last - almost cocky - smile before pushing open the door to the boys’ locker room. 

You scrambled to your position as she scratched the spiral onto the glass. The mark for vendetta. 

Aiden threw open the door, calling out Derek, and Lydia was right behind him, begging him to stop. To just let it go. But you knew that it wasn’t that easy. 

You and Cora hadn’t planned for anyone else to be involved, but that didn’t stop her from slamming him into the metal changing dividers and slicing open his chest. You could hear him fighting back, and Cora was thrown across the room before you knew it. You didn’t know whether to help or let Cora handle it, but the sound of him picking up a weight spurred you into action. 

You grabbed a lacrosse stick in the time it took Aiden to hit Cora so hard that she flew into the benches. Taking a steady breath, you raised the stick and shoved it through his lower back. If being impaled hurt him in the slightest, it didn’t show as he turned to you. He just looked pissed. 

He was turning his rage on you as he raised the weight, and you were too busy fearing for your life to notice when Scott and Ethan ran in. They restrained him and you started breathing again. 

“You can’t do this!” Ethan yelled. He forced the weight out of Aiden’s hands.

But that didn’t stop him from trying to hurt you. “She came at me!” 

“It doesn’t matter! Kali gave Derek until the next full moon. That means you can’t touch him-” Ethan looked over his shoulder at Cora and then to you as he spoke “-or them.”

Aiden gathered himself but he didn’t take his eyes off you. Not even when he pulled the lacrosse stick out of his abdomen and threw it on the ground. You did your best not to throw up before rushing over to Cora. Stiles and Lydia were already by her side. 

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked, turning her head over to look at the wound. She turned her head away and drew in a shaky breath. “This looks really bad.” 

“I’m fine,” she choked out. “Help me stand.” 

You looped your arm around her and helped her up, trying your best to ignore her wincing as you did. You set her down on the bench in front of the sinks and used a washcloth to clean her forehead. The five of you were silent as you did. 

“What were you thinking?” Scott asked eventually. 

“Yeah, do you realize how suicidally crazy that was?” Stiles asked, seemingly waiting for someone to make the first move before bubbling over. “What were you thinking - going after them?” 

“We did it for Boyd,” you said, wringing out the cloth. It used to be white but now it was this weird off-pink color. The three of them shared a look as you turned back to Cora, but she put a hand up. You stopped. 

“It’s not like any of you were doing anything,” she said before looking at Lydia. ‘Looking’ was a generous word. She was glaring. 

“We’re trying,” Scott said. 

“And you’re failing,” Cora told him as she used you to get up. She looked over at them again. “You’re just a bunch of stupid teenagers running around, thinking that you can stop people from getting killed. But all you do is show up late. All you really do is find the bodies.” 

Cora turned and started walking out. You spared one last look at your friends before following her out. “Cora! Cora, come on. Wait for me.” 

She stopped to let you catch up once she reached the doors to the parking lot. “What?” 

“So that’s it? You’re not even going to talk to me now that we got even?” you asked. 

“We are not even,” she said. She shook her head before continuing, “Look, Y/N, I don’t have time to be your friend, okay? I need to heal, and then I need to get even. Alone.” 

She turned to leave and you caught her arm. She stared at your hand but you refused to back down. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through you that made you think it was a good idea. You took a step closer. 

“Because that went so well when you had help?” you asked. “He was going to kill you. And, look, I get it. If I thought it would mean anything, I’d let them kill me too. But it doesn’t. And it doesn’t change that Boyd is dead. All it means is that you’re punishing yourself.”

“Punishing myself for what?” she asked. 

You looked down and took a breath. You dropped your hand. “I- I don’t know. Because you weren’t there? Because if you’d found them sooner, this wouldn’t have happened?” 

“Because if you got them out like you promised, they’d be in Mexico by now?” Her voice was still confrontational but something was different. You didn’t get a chance to talk about it, though, because Stiles walked up to you. 

“Well, ladies, since I don’t see the Porsche out there, I guess my crappy Jeep is the best shot at getting you home,” he said. He still looked upset, but none of you addressed it as you got in the car. 

---

You looked at Stiles from the passenger seat, holding his phone out on speaker so he could talk to Allison. She and Isaac had found a bunch of weird symbols and markings in invisible ink on Chris’ desk. The only two groups of sacrifices that hadn’t been fulfilled yet were philosophers and guardians. 

“Stiles, you have to tell your dad,” Allison finished. “Tell him whatever you need to get him to believe.” 

“Okay, okay, I know,” he said. Allison hung up and Stiles sighed, tapping the steering wheel. 

“So what are we gonna tell him?” you asked. 

“The truth,” Stiles said eventually. “And Cora’s gonna help.”

Using whatever time was left in the car, you and Stiles convinced Cora to help. She still wasn’t looking great but she insisted that she was healing and that she could do it. You gave up pushing her and settled for quiet concern as the two of you sat on Stiles’ bed and he tried to explain what was going on to Noah. It hurt to watch, but you knew Stiles had to do this on his own.

“Why was Jackson the kanima?” Noah asked. 

“Sometimes the shape you take reflects the person that you are,” Stiles answered. 

Noah seemed to have lost all the patience he had as he asked, “And what shape would an increasingly confused and angrier by the second father take?” 

“Uh, that would be more of an expression, actually. Kinda like the one you’re currently wearing,” Stiles said. You decided this was your moment to step in because Noah was getting ready to walk out.

“We can prove it,” you said, looking over to Cora. “Or, I mean, at least Cora can.” 

“You know, Y/N, you and Stiles have given me a lot of gray hairs over the years-” Noah took a breath “-but this is-” 

“Dad, would you just hold on?” Stiles asked. He looked at Cora and asked if she was ready. She nodded and stood up … only to pass out. You reached out to her as she fell, but that only made the two of you fall on the ground. You were fine but Cora’s forehead started bleeding again. 

“Call an ambulance,” Noah told Stiles before trying to stop the bleeding.

--- 

You sat in the chair next to Cora’s bed and called Derek. Stiles and Noah were talking outside, but you tried not to focus on that as you listened to the dial tones. He didn’t pick up. 

“Listen, Derek,” you sighed. “This is my like fiftieth voicemail but you seriously need to come out from wherever you’re hiding out, okay? Cora’s hurt. Really hurt. And we’re at Beacon Hills Memorial and she’s-” 

“Y/N?” Derek answered the call. You were too shocked to speak for a second. “Call Peter. I’m on my way.”

He hung up and you took a breath. Now you just had to call Peter, you guessed, and wait for Stiles to come back. Except that he didn’t - he just texted you something about having to go to the recital. When Derek got there, you were honestly just happy not to be alone as Cora slept. The two of you didn’t speak, but there was an understanding as you sat in the chairs next to the bed. An understanding that Cora wasn’t dying. You wouldn’t let her. 

“Derek?” Cora’s voice was so faint that for a second you thought you just imagined it. But Derek stood up to comfort her. 

“Hey,” he said gently. “Hey, I’m here.” 

“What’s happening to me?” She sounded so scared. Like an eleven-year-old girl who’d just lost her family in a fire. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I’m not leaving, okay? Not again.”

Derek kissed her forehead and sat back down. Cora’s eyes drifted towards you, and she looked like she was going to say something before going back to sleep. She didn’t.

It didn’t take long for Scott and Stiles to call Derek and you (respectively) with an update. The piano teacher was killed - the third philosopher sacrifice - and Blake tried to kill Lydia. She was okay, but Noah was taken. Stiles was quiet after he told you that, and Derek had already pulled you up and dragged you out of the hospital. 

“Are you okay?” you asked. You walked past Peter on your way out and Derek told him to watch Cora. “Derek and I are on our way and we’ll meet you at the loft.” 

“Okay,” he said. He sounded hollow. “See you soon.” 

“Stiles, stay-” He hung up on you. “On the phone with me,” you sighed and slammed the Porsche’s door shut. 

--- 

Derek was reluctant to believe that the woman he’d saved from a werewolf attack and subsequently been dating could be the one who was committing human sacrifices, but eventually he gave in. He trusted the three of you more than he trusted her.

“So what do we do now?” you asked. “Ask her really nicely to give Noah back and call it a day?” 

Stiles winced slightly at your words, which made you instantly regret them, but he didn’t get a chance to respond. 

“I guess we find out.” Scott looked at Derek as he spoke. “She’s here.”  

“You three, hide. Now.”

“Oh, I’m Derek Hale. I don’t need to be polysyllabic,” you mumbled as Scott pulled you behind the wall with the gaping hole in it. Your annoyance dissipated when you heard Blake’s voice, and you reached for Stile’s hand. 

“They’re already here, aren’t they?” she asked. The loft was quiet as the three of you moved from your hiding place. “So … they told you it was me? That I’m the one taking people?” 

“We told him you’re the one killing people,” Scott corrected. 

“Oh, that’s right,” Blake said. She had the gall to laugh. “Committing human sacrifices? Cutting their throats? Yeah, I probably do it on my lunch hour. That way I can get back to teaching high school English the rest of the day. That makes perfect sense!” 

“Where’s my dad?” Stiles asked. A tear ran down his cheek and you did your best not to crumble at the sight. 

“How should I know?” She turned back to Derek. “Derek, tell me you don’t believe this.” 

Derek looked over to the three of you before looking back at her. “Do you know what happened to Stiles’ father?” 

“No,” Blake told him. 

“Ask her why she almost killed Lydia,” Scott said. 

“Lydia Martin?” You had to admit, she was a pretty convincing actress. “I don’t know anything about that!” 

“Then what do you know?” Derek asked. 

“I know that these boys, for whatever misguided reason, are filling your head with an absurd story,” she said. “One they can’t prove, by the way!”

“What if we can?” Scott asked, holding up a bottle of mistletoe. He explained that you can use it to hurt other people, but that it can also be used to hurt you. He took off the lid and threw the mistletoe at Blake. 

You squeezed Stiles’ hand as she shrieked and transformed into a monster. He squeezed just as hard back. Neither of you moved as Derek went to kill her, but then she mentioned Cora. And Noah. And all three of you went forward to stop him, but he dropped her on his own. 

“That’s right,” she said after regaining composure. “You need me. All of you.”

---

Scott and Stiles talked on the drive there, but you focused on the sound of the rain to stay grounded. You were in the hospital before they were, and it was chaos. They were evacuating because of the storm. Melissa stopped Scott and told you that there were two ambulances in the basement garage, and Cora had to be on one of them. 

The elevator ride to Cora’s room was arguably the most awkward one you’d ever experienced - including the one with Deucalion that felt like it happened years ago. You all filed out as soon as it stopped, but you couldn’t find Cora in her room. You did find a mysterious trail of black blood, though, and followed it until Scott made you stop. 

Someone was fighting. The doors flew open and Peter slid across the floor, stopping at your feet.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said. “A big problem.” 

You followed his gaze and saw the twins in their singular giant form. You shuddered as Derek ran straight past you and into the fight. So did Scott. You stopped Peter when you saw Cora lying in the hallway and motioned for him to follow your lead.

After skirting around the fight, you, Stiles, and Peter lifted her up and carried her away as quickly as you could. Scott and Derek caught up eventually but then you lost track of Stiles. He popped back up later, yelling at you guys to move faster and that he needed a new baseball bat. 

All six of you rendezvoused in an operating theatre to come up with a plan … only it wasn’t going so well because everyone was arguing. That stopped as soon as Blake walked in and claimed that she was the only one who could save Cora. She said she’d only do it once she was safely out of the hospital. The arguing returned.

“Um, can I have your attention?” You heard Melissa’s voice over the PA system and looked up at Scott. “Mr. Deucalion- excuse me, just Deucalion- requests you bring the woman calling herself Jennifer Blake to the ER Reception. Do this, and everyone else can leave. You have ten minutes.”

“He’s not gonna hurt her,” Blake said cautiously. 

“Shut up,” you and Derek said at the same time. You continued though and he didn’t, “This is your fault.” 

“And who are you, again? Human #3?” she asked, glancing at you and then back to your brother. “Scott, he won’t hurt her. You know why. Tell them it’s true.” 

“What does she mean?” Derek asked. 

“You’re not the only one he wants in his pack.” Blake went on to explain that Deucalion was obsessed with having the perfect alpha pack, which meant getting rare alphas to join. Peter realized that meant Scott was a true alpha; he didn’t have to steal to get his power, but he could rise by the force of his own will. 

A touching story, really, but Cora was mumbling in her fever-induced sleep and your mom was being held hostage by a sociopathic werewolf, so you had other priorities. And you told them so. Soon you were all scrambling together a plan: Derek would get Blake out, Scott and Peter would distract the twins, and you and Stiles would move Cora to the ambulance in the basement. 

Derek laid Cora on the gurney inside and you and Stiles climbed in. The doors hadn’t even been shut, and Blake was already calling for Derek’s attention. You and Stiles moved slowly and closed them as quietly as possible, only having a moment of panicked silence pressed up against the walls before you saw Derek and Blake take off, followed quickly by Kali. 

“It’s okay. We’re okay,” Stiles whispered from his seat across from you. “We’re alright. You okay?” 

“I’m fine but, uh-” you moved closer to Cora to check on her “-Stiles, I don’t know if she’s breathing.” 

“What?” Stiles leaned in to listen for her breath but he shook his head. “I don’t hear anything.”

“What do we do?” You looked at him but he was just as freaked out as you were. 

“You’re asking me? I don’t know what to do!” 

“You always know what to do!” 

“Babe, I took health like two years ago! Besides, I don’t even know if that stuff applies to werewolves, alright?” 

“Oh my god, Stiles! You are such a-” you paused to take a breath. Cora was dying and you were arguing. You pulled your hair back and leaned closer to her, opening her mouth slightly. 

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked. 

“Checking to see if there’s anything stuck in her throat.” You were miraculously calm during this. And, deciding that there were no blockages, you began giving her CPR. It didn’t seem like it was working, and you looked up at Stiles with panic quickly returning. “Stiles, I-” 

Cora gasped in her sleep and your panic subsided slightly. You sighed and collapsed back into your seat. She was alive. When you looked back up at Stiles, he had this weird look on his face. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, just …” he shook his head. “That was pretty badass.” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, sure.” 

“I’m serious. You saved her life,” Stiles said. “Way cooler than sitting here, not being able to do anything.” 

You frowned slightly, dropping the sound of your voice as you spoke, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It’s just…” he sighed. “I used to be the one who knew what to do- or at least, could figure out what to do when things went wrong. Now I’m starting to think maybe you and Cora were right. Maybe we are pretty much useless. Maybe all we really do is find the bodies.” 

“Hey,” you said gently. You reached out and cupped his face lightly with your hand. “You know she only said that because she was upset, right? And I don’t think you’re useless.” 

Stiles was quiet for a second, but then he reached his own hand up to meet yours. He was looking down at the ground and it broke your heart. “Y/N, I don’t want to find my dad’s body.”

“Stiles, that’s not gonna happen.” You moved closer, Cora’s gurney moving slightly as you shifted. “Hey, look at me. We’re gonna find him. I promise.” He didn’t answer, so you moved even closer and used your other hand to lift his chin up. There were tears in his eyes. “You and me, Stiles. No matter what.”

“No matter what,” he echoed, sounding hollow. 

You wanted to move closer - despite the awkward position you were already in - and kiss him, but you heard growling and other loud noises coming from outside the ambulance. You and Stiles pulled apart and he saw the twins skulking outside. He motioned for you to be quiet, and you were. 

Your heart about leaped out of your chest when something crashed into the ambulance doors. It was Scott and Peter. Stiles opened the doors and helped Scott shove him in. 

“Where’s Derek and Jennifer?” Stiles asked. 

“They’ll be fine. Where’s Mom?” you asked. 

“I have to go back for them,” Scott said. He was bloody and sounded exhausted. 

“Okay, well two problems: Kali’s got the keys to this thing, and we just saw the twins like thirty seconds ago,” Stiles told him. 

“I think Stiles and I can hotwire this thing,” you said. Scott frowned at you. “We did it once when we were like thirteen, remember? With your dad’s car? Anyway, Scotty, if you can keep the twins-” 

A loud noise in the distance cut you off. 

“Stay here,” Scott said, closing the doors. You were going to argue but Stiles shook his head and you fell silent.

---

Allison called you with the details of the new plan, and - honestly - you kind of hated it. Waiting for Isaac to show up with the car left a pit in your stomach, but you threw the doors open as soon as you saw him. Peter handed Cora to him and you climbed out after, stopping to see what Stiles was looking at on the inside of the door.

“Stiles?” you asked. “Come on, we’ve gotta go.”

“Parent or guardian,” he mumbled, looking up at you. 

He took off inside the hospital and you didn’t even look back at Isaac before running after him. You both stopped in front of the open elevator, staring at Derek’s comatose body, but he recovered first and pulled you after him so you were running behind Scott.

When you finally caught up with him, he was on the roof with Deucalion. They were making a deal. Stiles told him not to, that you guys would figure this out, but Scott just kept walking closer to Deucalion. 

“I just don’t know what else to do,” he said.

“Stay with us,” you begged, moving closer. Stiles caught your arm and you stopped, but you didn’t look back. “We can do this together.”

“There’s gotta be something else, okay?” Stiles said. “We always have a Plan B.”

Scott shook his head. He was close to crying. You were pretty sure you were crying. “Not this time,” he said. He started walking again but stopped to look at Stiles. “I’m gonna find your dad.” He looked at you. “And I’m gonna find Mom.”

“Scott, you can’t do this!” you cried. He did his best to ignore you, but you knew he could hear you. “Scott!” 

You balled up your fists but there was nothing you could do. Stiles pulled you closer when they were gone, and you felt yourself soften into his chest. Your hands clung to his sweatshirt and you were taking heavy breaths. Stiles had eased his hand in your hair, cradling your head slightly. He angled your face up to look at him. Was he going to kiss you? Now? 

“Derek.” You blurted it out before you could stop yourself. 

"Uh, no. No, I'm Stiles," Stiles said, sounding confused and pulling back slightly. 

“Derek’s lying in the elevator.” You unwrapped yourself from around Stiles and pulled on his hand. “We need to get him out of here. He could still be alive.” 

“Y/N, I don’t really know…” Stiles drifted off and shook his head, letting you drag him to Derek. 

When you got there, the elevator doors were still open and the lights were flickering on and off. You let go of Stiles and crouched next to Derek. You used your hand to find a pulse and leaned down to listen to his breathing. “He’s still breathing. He’s alive.” 

“Alright, well, how do we- Woah, hey, is that a knife?” You looked up to find Stiles staring at the blade in your hand. 

“More of a dagger, really,” you answered, voice soft. “Because not everyone has claws.” You blinked and focused on what you needed to do: Trigger the healing process. You sliced the back of Derek’s arm. “Stiles, he's not waking up. The pain should wake him up." 

“Okay, well, let’s try something else,” he sighed. 

You moved over as Stiles rolled up his sleeve, but started arguing when he punched Derek. Again. And again. You moved to stop him but froze when Derek caught his fist mid-punch. 

“Derek!” you cried, breaking out of your frozen state to help him to his feet. Stiles was mumbling about how his fist hurt. 

“Where is she?” Derek asked. He looked around at the wreckage, trying to figure out what happened. 

“Isaac got Cora and Peter out, and Blake-” your voice wavered. 

“Gone. With Y/N’s mom,” Stiles finished for you. “And Scott left with Deucalion. And the police are coming like right now so we’ve gotta get you the hell out of here.”

It didn’t take much else to convince Derek to leave, but that left you and Stiles to explain what happened to the cops. And the tension of you both missing the only family you had left didn’t make it very easy on you. The two of you settled on a cover story and you went to find something to drink. Stiles was still shaking so you grabbed a pack of Reese’s for him too. 

“Alright, how about this? Next time I see him-” Stiles sounded angry as you rounded the corner, and when you saw who he was talking to, you weren’t exactly surprised. “I’ll give him a field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet; start with F, end with U.” 

“How about you just tell me what the hell happened here?” Rafael asked. 

“Dad?” You walked over hesitantly, handing Stiles the candy without looking at him. “What are you doing here?” 

“Uh, Y/N.” Rafael cleared his throat and looked around before continuing, “Where’s your mom and Scott? You shouldn’t be here.”

“Mom was on duty when they started evacuating. Stiles offered to drive me here to pick her up,” you said slowly, crossing your arms over your chest. Rafael hadn’t spoken to you since you’d been kicked out of Willow Creek. “What are you doing here?” 

“So you guys didn’t see anything?” Rafael asked. 

“No. We were stuck in the elevator the whole time.” Stiles got up, which forced your dad to take a step back. He took your hand in his - a little more forcefully than usual. 

“You’re not the one who put the name on the doors, are you, Stilinski?” he asked. 

“No. What part of-” 

“What name?” you interrupted. 

---

Stiles told the Argents about their name being left in big red letters on the elevator doors and you called Isaac and let him know. Stiles came back, somehow looking even more dejected than the last time you saw him, which made the drive home almost unbearably quiet. He walked you inside though, and then all the way up to your room. 

“Okay, well, I guess I should get going,” he said eventually, getting up from where he sat on your desk. 

“Uh, hey, do you- do you wanna stay?” you asked. “It’s just … with Noah and my mom missing, and Scott- well, you know. And I have no idea where Isaac is.” 

It wasn’t much of an argument, but the message was clear: the two of you were alone. And you didn’t want to be alone on your own.

“Uh, yeah.” Stiles nodded. “I guess I’ll, uh, be in Scott’s room if you need anything.” 

You smiled at him on his way out and collapsed into your bed. ‘Do you want to stay?’ You couldn’t have been a bit more subtle? Less terrified to be alone? Dealing with this stuff was hard enough without also dealing with the monumentally huge crush you had on Stiles Stilinski. 

After getting over your embarrassment, you took a shower and changed into some pajamas. When you switched off the light on your way out, you saw that Scott’s door was slightly ajar and the light was pouring out. For a second you thought he’d come back. Your heart sank at the realization that he hadn’t. 

You shook your head and took a breath before starting back to your room. You paused when you reached Scott’s room though. If the light was on, Stiles was still awake. And if Stiles was awake, that meant the noise you heard from inside was him crying. 

“Hey, uh, would it be totally weird if I slept here tonight?” you asked as you pushed the door open, opting for a more casual invasion of privacy than flat-out asking if he was crying. “I just don’t want to … be alone …” 

The words died on your lips as you actually saw what he looked like. Like a broken little boy in a thunderstorm. Head in his hands, he moved to wipe his face before you saw him. 

“No, uh, no, it’s not weird,” he said, adjusting himself. “Hey, don’t give me that look.”

“I’m not giving you a look,” you said as you closed the door behind you. 

“Uh, yeah, it’s called the ‘I Just Found Someone Crying Who I Didn’t Know Experienced Emotions Like The Rest Of Us And Now I’m Uncomfortable’ look.” He turned his head so you couldn’t see his face anymore.

“I’m not uncomfortable.” You walked over to where he sat and knelt down. “And, believe it or not, I’m pretty adept at handling the Stilinski Range of Emotions.” You smiled gently and lifted his head so he was looking at you. “We’ll find him, Stiles. I promise.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said softly. He didn’t seem convinced. 

You weren’t sure how long you two stayed like that, but at some point your hand drifted to cup his jaw. And at another Stiles had put his arms around you and held you. And you kissed him. And then he pulled away, slowly, cradling the back of your head in his hand. 

“We should probably get some sleep,” he said. 

“Probably,” you smiled. 

You didn’t make any attempt to move though, and neither did he. Stiles laughed and pulled you in again. Unlike the last time, this kiss wasn’t sad or tender. It was playful. Both of you were still kind of laughing over the absurdity of the situation until you eventually pulled away. 

“We have school tomorrow,” you said. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“So we should probably get some sleep.” 

“Probably.” 

It was the first time you saw him smile all night.

Part 13

[snokoms]

under the sea part 9

here we go again…...

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21310579/chapters/52822636

He is running through the woods again. They are slowly starting to become more familiar. Deciding to try the tactic from the last time he sets out for a long journey again. This time deciding to take a different route. When he still has not felt the presence after a few hours he decides to head to the bunny clearing anyway. Maybe It is there? It is not there. Disappointment is taking over his mind. Did he chase them away? Or was It Stiles? Like he secretly hoped it was. If it was, does that mean that Nira was right? Was his packmate really dead? Slowly walking the same pad as the other night, he takes off. The presence still isn’t back by the time he has made the full circle. Howling his loss to the moon he stays there the rest of the night.

   ---

   “Hey Danny, how is Hawaii treating you? You still hitting on that dude from last time?”

 “Hey Jacks, no he turned out to be a dick. Being all nice and shit and then trying to steal my stuff? Like, sure, we had a great night, the dude gave great head, but in the morning, he almost sneaked out with my coffeemaker! Who even goes for a coffeemaker! If you are trying to steal something than you should at least do it right. It’s not like its small or inconspicuous or something.”

 Jackson looked stumped at the screen in front of him before bursting out laughing.

 “It’s not funny! It had to chase him down for three blocks while only wearing boxers. And you know what he did!”

 Danny was starting to turn red in his rant and Jackson was sitting at the edge of his seat in anticipation.

 “He threw it on the ground! Its broken! It made The Best Coffee Ever and now its broken!” With that said Jackson fell down on the flour, unable to keep his laughter in any longer. Only Danny could ever get in this kind of mess.

 “Anyway, I think I’m going to stop dating for a while. Or at least stop with the blonds.”

 “What? You’re going to try brunets now?”

 “Yes.”

 “You never liked brunets”

 “That’s not true. There was Lucas when we were eight.”

 “Exactly. Eight, and if I remember it right there was a bet involved.”

 “Fine” with a huff Danny settles back in his chair. Jackson had a point though, he never fell for brunets. No matter how cute they were.

 “Anyway, have you heard the latest news from BH?”

 “What news? I don’t really talk with anyone back there.”

 “Not even Lydia? You guys were pretty close.”

 “No, I needed to get away from all that. Also, Lydia and I? It wasn’t a really healthy relation.” He is looking out of the window while he saying that. Unable to look at friend, thinking back at their time in high school together and the mess that was his love, or more like, sex life back then.

 “Sorry to hear that man. Anyway, it’s about the Stilinki kid.”

 “What about him?” This is peaking Jackson interest. He knows Stiles had something to do with him not dying back in BH. Convincing Derek not to kill him and figuring out how to save him. Not to mention the damage his precious death trap called a car received for smashing through the wall to deliver Lydia to him. No matter how toxic they had been to each other. They had loved each other.

 “He’s dead.”

 “What.” That does not sound right.

 “Yeah, they found his car about a couple weeks ago. Found the killer in the woods. It’s going to be an empty casket funeral though because they couldn’t find the body.” Silently they watch each other, remembering the teen they left in the town they all grew up in.

 “How did he die? And how are they sure he is dead, if they did not find the body?”

 “According to the police report the trail leads to a lake. They found the killer there, killed two man. Heads bust in and dragged to the bottom of the lake. I’m willing to bet it was some kind of seacreature.”

 “A seacreature that far from the shore?”

 “Yeah, maybe like a sweetwater kind? The lake variant.”

 “God I can’t believe this conversation actually makes sense.” shaking his head chuckling, he looks at his friend on the other side of the world.

 “Yeah well I’m just glad you finally found the balls the tell me about everything after you left for England.”

 “Yeah…” Cringing back at the reminder of all the lies he told he apologises again.

 “Anyway, I was thinking of maybe heading up there? Pay respects.”

 Nodding Jackson looks at his friend. Without words they already knew they would be going together. Jackson owes his life to the dead teen, the least they could do was attend the funeral.

   ----

   When they Hales finally make their way into Beacon Hills it is the morning of the funeral. They find the town filled with all kinds of creatures. But instead of being there to harm the town and its people, they have come to mourn a loud mouthed sarcastic teen. With wonder they look around. Look at what their pack, no, family member has done. Has meant to all these people to come to his funeral.

 Upon arriving to the McCall residency, to inform the pack of their presence and mourn with them for their fallen member they notice something is amiss.

 No one is home.

 Upon breaking into the house, the lack of scent is like a slap in the face. Where Stiles’ scent was once part of the house, there is now no trace to be found of it. Deep integrated scents that had been applied for such a long time usually took months, sometimes years to fully disappear. Why had Stiles not been around more? Where did his scent go? That was not the only scent that seemed to be missing though. Scott hasn’t been in his room for over a week, maybe two or three. Neither had the rest of the ragtack group of misfits. Had Scott been kidnapped or, eaten, as well? Had the others?

 The thought of their Stiles being eaten still makes them slightly nauseous. When they move to leave and ask around town, they stumble upon Melissa at the door. She doesn’t even blink when she sees them. Uncaring of the fact that they broke in.

 “Good, you guys made it in time. He would have liked you to be there.” she looks exhausted and sadness take up a large part of her scent.

 “Melissa, where is Scott? We know he hasn’t been in the house for over a week.” When the woman hesitates before answering, a sense of foreboding creeps up his spine. Something is wrong, and whatever it is. It was not going to be pretty.

 “The pack, they, they left. For a vacation. The year was finally over, and they thought they deserved a break. Stiles wasn’t with them. I, I called. I don’t think he was invited Derek. I’m not even sure anymore if my son cares that his best friend is dead.” With that Melissa breaks down and he wraps her in his arms. The pack was gone? Without, without Stiles? Uncaring? How dare he. He left Stiles in McCalls care. Told him to look after the human before he left. He told him! How could, how-

 Then he thinks back to Gerard and the pool and yeah. He could. It wasn’t the first time the crooked jaw boy has broken his trust. He thought he cared about his best friend. Apparently, he was wrong.

When Melissa has finally calmed down again, they are sitting on the couch. There are steaming mugs of tea on the table. Peter, Cora and Malia are occupying the other seats in the room. After taking a sip of her tea she looks around. Looks at this little family that has already lost so much.

 “Melissa, what happened? How did this happen? Please, we-. No, I need to know.” Looking at the young man next to her and the people surrounding her she steels herself and start talking.

 “The car was found on a Tuesday…..”

   ----

   “So, I just called Lydia.”

 “How did it go?”

 “Oh you know, she is still mad about me leaving to London. Trying to get me jealous by talking about

her latest conquest.”

 “…..She know you started swinging the other way?”

 “…..No.” Shaking his head about his friends cowardice, Danny asks,

 “What did she say about Stiles? Did she tell you how he really died?”

 “She said, and I quote: ‘What the hell are you talking about. Stop wasting my time with that useless spaz’ before going on about some guy named Jordan.” His friend answers in a flat tone.

 “Wait what. That, that doesn’t sound right.”

 “I don’t think she knows Danny. About him. Being, you know, dead.” It is silent for a minute before he adds,

 “She said he was a killer.”

 “You sure?” Nodding Jackson grabbed his suitcase. While the pair walked towards the exit of the airport they pondered over the words. Danny knew Lydia never liked the other boy. Still, something must have happened to get her this openly hostile.

 “Do you think it’s true?”

 “If he killed someone?” Humming an affirmative he looked at his friend. Jacksons eyes were unfocused while he thought about the question. Thinking back to his time as kanima, some could argue that he was a murderer as well. Even if he had no control over his body at the time. Hell, he was not even aware what was happening to him back then. Stiles had known though. The teen had saved him, even though he used to bully him.

 “If he did, I’m sure he had a good reason for it. He voted for my life when I was still the kanima. Even if killing me would have saved them all a lot of trouble and I bullied him for years.”

 Ignoring the last comment Danny tries to defend the girl. “What if she doesn’t know the full story?” Even in his own ears the excuse sounded half baked.

 “She wouldn’t care.” With that in mind they both get into the taxi heading for Beacon Hills and the funeral. Warily noting the number of cars going the same way.

   ----

   In the meantime, deep under the surface, Stiles is slowly learning Seahissing, or watertalk (he still doesn’t know what to call it). And in so, slowly starts to understand what happened.

  “We- we were driven out of our home by hunters and came upon this place a few weeks into our travels.

 One day father was gone really long, and I thought the hunters had caught him, but I still had hope he would come back to me.” a shaky breath “He did, but he was… different.” The boy whispered with downcast eyes. “He was saying all this stuff. About how he did everything because he loved me. That he was proud of me. I was so confused.” A lone tear escaped Shan’s eye and Stiles wondered how tears still worked underwater. He wondered how long it had been since someone had been kind to this boy.

 “For a few days nothing happened, and I had almost forgotten until one night- until one night he told me to stay inside and not to come out until he said I could.” It was silent for a long while after that, and Stiles got a dark feeling inside, something bad was going to happen. He knew that this must have been shortly before he was kidnapped and the father of this boy, the man who kidnapped him, wasn’t absent because he neglected his child.

 “I was never good at following orders.”

  <em>When Shan came back to their cave the second day after the new moon, he found it empty. Again. Remembering his father’s words from yesterday he looked around the lake.

 He was bored.

 And so, he decided to explore. Maybe his father had found a new and special place and wanted to keep it a suprise! He knew he wasn’t supposed to leave the lake, it never ended well for him when he went against father’s wishes, but he was just. So, so bored.

Shan wasn’t a great listener. Especially when he was curious. Or didn’t agree with his father’s reasoning. Or, you know, saw something shiny.

Yeah…. Anyway. He set out to find his father. Knowing the older mer had taken the lower passages heading south, he quickly swam down.

   When he finally found him hours later it was to an unexpected sight. His farther had wrapped his arms around something light skinned. The strange thing was slowly growing scales and he could see the sliths were his gills were placed.

 It looked like a freshly turned.

 Unfortunately, his arrival had not gone unnoticed. For when he finally looked op from the unknown creature, is was to find his farther staring at him.

 “I’m sorry sir, I was worried about you.” Hoping to make it slightly better he looked down.

After a long silence the man finally replied to him. “Son, meet….” sight “…. This is our ticket to a safe passage out of these waters.” Horrified the young shifter looks up. That sounded a lot like they were using this person, to- to- to trade! Did he really make such a mess that they had to resort to such things? Or- or was he getting replaced? He never meant to be such a horrible son to his father. Was he really not wanted? He knew he was a burden, he always got into problems, even if he didn’t mean to! He just, he was not as fast, or strong. Maybe father was right, no self respecting man would want such a weak son.

 “Where will they go?”

 “To the cave two lefts of where you were supposed to stay, there is a smaller room in there. That will be his space for the time being. You will guard him, feed him, and not speak a single word to him.” they weren’t leaving yet? More important, what was so special about this person that they were the solution to a problem he did not know existed? (but probably caused)

 “Yes father” Just as the pair is about to transfer the freshly turned, an almost unnoticeable tremor goes through the rocks. Startling the younger of the two.

 “What are you waiting for? Hurry up.” Muttering about annoying bastards the older doesn’t notice when a second trilling goes through the rocks. Slightly stronger this time.

 “Dad, where did all the fish go.” At the scared sound of his sons voice he turns around. Ready to berate him for wasting their time when he looks behind the boy. Something is moving rapidly their way. It does not look friendly. In does not look friendly at all. Nor does it sound friendly.

 “Shan, move! Go!”

 “Wha-“

 “NOW!” shoving the kidnappee in his son’s arms, he pushes the boy to one of the tunnels

 “I will be right behind you.” With that he turns around. Ready to defend his offspring.

Turning around Shan shoots the tunnels in. Only to find out that he cannot use the smallest ones with the extra baggage. Turning around at the sound of screams and crushed bones, the smell of blood reaches his nose.

 Papa is dead.

 Instead of swimming further inside the tunnels, Shan quickly decides to swim upwards towards dry land and move towards a different water from up there. While swiftly manoeuvring between the passages to get there, another trilling goes through the rocks. Making pieces of rubble fall down. He has finally wrestled the unconscious body on the land when he can see a dark mass moving towards the surface. Turning around he gathers the manlike creature in his arms and starts running. When he turns around, he sees a long tentacle moving out of the water and heading their way. Deciding to zigzag between trees to avoid getting caught he moves further and further land inwards. Stumbling over a tree root and turning around he notices nothing is behind him.

 Whatever that was, it can’t move on land. Placing that piece of information firmly on the forefront of his mind he sets course for the den. He made a promise and intents to keep it. Even if father will never know. </em>

  Hearing the story brings Stiles a great deal of relieve. Not only was this boy not the one who had kidnapped him. But the initial kidnapper was most likely very, very dead. To top it off, the were had a way to avoid being eaten, even if that meant going on land. Which his body very much did not agree with. Instinctively knowing changing forms at this point would be very painful, especially since his scales were still growing. Not that it mattered if it was a choice between being eaten and not being eaten.

 Right, Stiles, get your head in the game. Looking at the boy who had recently lost his father, and possibly his last living family member, he starts thinking of what they should do next. They cannot go back. Which meant that they have to find a new home.

 “Know any nice caves around here?”

 “Wait…. You, you are not mad? That I disobeyed orders?”

 “Sweetie, if you hadn’t, I would be dead right know. I kind of like being alive. Most of the time.” He had muttered the last part and was glad the boy didn’t seem to have noticed his words.

 “Not really? I mean. We have not been here for very long and I wasn’t allowed to explore a lot.”

 “I’m sure a curious boy like you has ventured out here before.” With a mischievous look they both grin to each other before bursting out laughing.

 Moving to find a new nest the two start sharing stories. It is the most fun both of them have had in a long while.

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

Stella and the Wolf - Chapter 23

You can read it on AO3 or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here. 

Stiles skips lacrosse so he can get Stella home and fed before Jackson and Lydia arrive. When they get home, he’s glad to see the TV news van that was camped out in the street all weekend has finally given up and gone away. Either they don’t have the staying power of real vultures, or someone else has had a more newsworthy traumatic experience for them to exploit. Rapid news cycle and short attention spans for the win, Stiles guesses.

He unlocks the front door, hoping that Derek hasn’t had a boring day. Like, what does Derek do in his free time anyway? Now that he’s not focusing on just surviving. It’s got to be a difficult transition to make, mentally. And he’s an Alpha now as well, which maybe complicates everything, and maybe doesn’t. There’s still so much that Stiles doesn’t know about werewolves.

He pushes the door open, and Stella darts in front of him into the house.

“Derek?” she calls as she heads like a homing pigeon for the kitchen. “Derek?”

Derek treads downstairs, the third step from the bottom creaking like it always does. He’s wearing sweatpants and a white tank top, and Stiles has to pause for a moment and pick his jaw up from the floor because wow. Just wow.

His shoulders, and his arms, and his collarbones, and, well, the entire package. Not that Stiles is looking at his package. Well—

Derek raises his eyebrows.

“Heeeey,” Stiles says, in a voice that’s supposed to be super casual, but really isn’t. He clears his throat. “So, Jackson and Lydia are coming over to see you soon. Is that okay? I mean, we can always bolt the door and flee to Mexico if it’s not, because I don’t know if you noticed, but they’re kind of hard to refuse.”

“I noticed,” Derek says, a smile softening his features. “And yeah, it’s fine.”

“Who wants peanut butter and honey sandwiches?” Stella yells from the kitchen.

“Honey?” Derek asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, so much better than jelly,” Stiles says. “Just you wait.”

He reaches out before he even realizes what he’s doing, and grabs Derek’s hand to tug him towards the kitchen.

And Derek lets it happen.

***

Lydia and Jackson arrive after lacrosse practice. Jackson smells of body wash and hair product. Stiles shows them into the living room, where Stella’s sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table doing her homework, and Derek’s sitting on the couch behind her, supervising. He looks a bit thrown by Common Core math, but who isn’t?

“Okay,” Stiles says, and takes a seat next to Derek, leaving Dad’s easy chair for Lydia and Jackson. “So Lydia found out that Kate’s father is going to be in town for the funeral.”

Derek’s eyes flash red, so Stiles figures it’s exactly the problem Chris said it would be, and that Lydia guessed. “When?”

Lydia sits down in Dad’s chair, and Jackson perches on the arm.

“The funeral is on Saturday,” she says. “But he might arrive a few days before that. Allison didn’t know.”

“Chris might,” Stiles says. “I’ll get Dad to ask him.”

Derek nods. “And you should warn Scott to stay away from Allison for a while. If Gerard finds out he’s a werewolf, he’ll go after him.”

“It’s like telling the moon not to rise, but I’ll give it a shot,” Stiles says.

“You should get him grounded,” Stella announces, looking up from her homework. “Make him get in trouble for something, so he’s not allowed to go on dates.”

“Slow down there, Little Miss Machiavelli,” Stiles says. “I’m starting to think that maybe I might have been a bad influence on you. I don’t know whether to be proud, or afraid.”

Stella rolls her eyes at him. “Liar.”

Stiles grins, and holds out his arm.

Stella fist bumps him.

“We’ll call that Plan B,” Stiles says.

“It’s a good plan,” Jackson says. “You’re smarter than your brother, aren’t you, Stella?”

“Don’t answer that,” Stiles commands. “It’s a trap.”

Stella ignores him, the traitor. “I’m the best reader in my class.”

“Well, we’re not here to discuss Scott,” Lydia says. “Gerard might find out he’s a werewolf, but he also might not. Whereas he knows you’re a werewolf, Derek, and whatever story Chris spins him, he’d be a total idiot if he didn’t figure out Kate was killed coming after you and Peter.” She presses her mouth into a tight line for a moment. “And what are the chances he’s the forgiving type?”

Derek’s chest rumbles with a low growl.

“You need betas,” Lydia tells him frankly. “And you need them fast. I’m guessing that your pack bond with Scott is enough to keep you both from going feral, but he’s not what I’d call a right hand, is he?”

Lydia really wasn’t kidding about how much research she’d done. Stiles has been scouring the weirdest places on the internet for months. How the hell does she know this after only the weekend? There’s something she’s not telling him. There has to be.

“He’s not,” Derek agrees. “What are you suggesting?”

Lydia glances at Jackson.

“Me,” Jackson says. “I’m young and healthy, so the bite shouldn’t kill me. And I’d make a good werewolf.”

“No,” Derek says.

Jackson’s expression shutters. “Excuse me?”

“No.” Derek holds his gaze. “You would make a good werewolf. But if I bit you now and you turned, I’d just be putting a target on you.”

“I know that,” Jackson says, his jaw tightening briefly. “I’m volunteering anyway.”

Lydia puts a hand on his forearm. “Jackson.”

He glances at her, and his shoulders sag.

“You would make a good werewolf,” Derek repeats, his tone steady. “And after everything is settled, and the Argents are off my back, I’ll offer you the bite. But not now. Not when it could get you killed.”

A silence settles over the living room, broken only by the soft scratch of Stella’s pencil against the paper as she does her homework.

“Okay,” Jackson says at last, even though Stiles knows for a fact that Jackson isn’t used to hearing the word ‘no’. If he’s pissed—and Stiles doesn’t think he is—he’s hiding it well. “I understand. The question is, then, what are you going to do about Gerard?”

Derek stares at him.

Jackson doesn’t even blink. “Because he will come looking for you, so you need to pick somewhere better to hide out until he’s gone again.” His gaze cuts to Stiles. “No offence, Stilinski, but this is going to be one of the first places he looks.”

“And what if he looks and I’m not here?” Derek asks. “But Stiles and Stella are?”

Stiles stomach clenches at the thought of it.

“My family has a cabin at the lake,” Lydia says. “And there’s nothing that connects me to you, Derek. Or even to Stiles, in particular. You’re welcome to use it. All of you.”

“My dad is not going to let me go and stay at a cabin in the woods to keep me safe,” Stiles says. “He’s seen horror movies.”

Lydia glances around the living room. “Then how well can you defend yourselves here?”

Stiles lets out a shaky breath. “You really think he’s going to come for us?”

Lydia shrugs. “I believe in preparing for the worst, don’t you?”

Stiles looks at Derek, hoping that Derek will tell him Lydia is over-reacting.

But Derek only looks back at him, Stiles’s worry reflected in his gaze.

***

It’s dusk when Stiles walks Lydia and Jackson out to Jackson’s car.

“Where the hell did you get all your info?” he asks. “There is no way you could have put all this together since Friday.”

Lydia shrugs, as though it doesn’t matter. “I found the right sources.”

“Where? I’ve been looking this shit up online for months!”

“A book,” Lydia says. “And yes, you can borrow it when I’m done with it.”

“What sort of book?” Stiles asks. “Werewolves for Dummies?”

Lydia raises her eyebrows. “Sure, if by ‘dummies’ you mean ‘people who can read Latin’.”

Stiles screws up his face. “Where the hell did you find a werewolf primer, in Latin, in Beacon Hills? Since Friday?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She opens the passenger door of the Porsche. “Just keep an eye on Derek, okay? This week’s going to be rough.”

Stiles blinks at her.

“Full moon, idiot,” Jackson says. “Wednesday.”

“Right.” Stiles chews his lower lip briefly. “His first full moon as an Alpha.”

“And not just any full moon,” Lydia says, climbing into the car. “I think you’ll find it’s the worm moon.”

“Did you get that out of your fancy Latin book too?” Stiles asks.

“No,” she says with a quirk smirk she must have learned from Jackson. “I googled that.”

Stiles steps back from the Porsche as it reverses out of the driveway.

What the hell is a worm moon?

***

“So,” Stiles says later that night over dinner, trying for a casual tone and missing. “Dad, what’s the plan for when Gerard Argent hits town?”

Dad sighs, and set his fork down. Glares at Stiles, then Stella, then Derek over his stir fry chicken. “The plan is that you kids and Derek stay here, and call me immediately if anyone comes by the house and I’m not here already.”

Derek lifts his chin. “Does Chris know how long Gerard is staying?”

“No.” Dad drums the tabletop with his fingertips. “He doesn’t. Look, I don’t like it any more than you, Derek, but all we can do is wait and see. He hasn’t committed any offences.”

“Yet,” Stiles says helpfully.

“Yet,” Dad repeats. “Meanwhile, Stiles, the combination to my gun safe that you absolutely don’t know?”

Stiles gives a guilty start.

“Yeah, I figured,” Dad says. “There’s a new Glock on the top shelf, but you’d better not touch it unless you need it.”

Stiles nods.

“Oooh,” says Stella. “Can I—”

“No!” Dad and Stiles exclaim at the same time.

Stella grunts like a dissatisfied warthog.

***

“First full moon as an Alpha on Wednesday,” Stiles says later that night, leaning in the bathroom doorway while Derek brushes his teeth.

Derek spits in the sink. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Stiles asks him. “Like, with wolfy stuff?”

Derek shoots him an unimpressed stare. “Wolfy stuff?”

“Sure.” Stiles curls his fingers into claws. “Grr. I mean, you gotta remember that my only experience of an Alpha was Peter, and, well, he was not the best example of lucid and rational thinking, you know? Which I get was probably unrelated to being an Alpha, but still.”

Derek straightens up. “My mom was an Alpha. Laura was. I’m not going to suddenly turn into a ravenous beast, Stiles.”

Stiles probably shouldn’t get warm all over thinking of Derek and ‘ravenous beast’ in the same sentence. What? He can’t help it if it sounds like the back cover of a trashy Regency romance where the innocent virgin is abducted by a licentious duke and heaving bosoms and breathy sighs abound.

“Okay,” he says. “Hey, um, what’s a worm moon? Because it sounds super fucking creepy, actually.”

“Oh,” Derek says. “Right, it’s the worm moon.” His expression softens. “It’s not creepy, actually. It’s called the worm moon because it’s the end of winter, and the ground begins to thaw, and the earthworms come back. It’s also called the sap moon because it’s when you can tap maple trees to make maple syrup, and the crow moon because the crows are cawing that it’s the end of winter.”

“All of those sound creepy without context,” Stiles says. “But I get it. The end of winter. The turn of the seasons. New life and all that.”

“Yeah,” Derek says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s new life, and new beginnings, and it’s about…hope, I guess.”

“Hope,” Stiles echoes softly, warmth flooding through him.

Derek deserves some of that, Stiles decides. They all do.

[yscbc]

(Trying to Escape the feeling of Shaky Ground)🙏🏿

Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.🙏🏿

1 Peter 5:7🙏🏿

Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. 🙏🏿

Philippians 4:6🙏🏿

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”🙏🏿

Joshua 1:9🙏🏿

✝️✝️✝️✝️✝️

Help me not to fear the future but to boldly trust that you are in control when my emotions plunge me down, and when I am in despair. And times when I can't talk and don't know what to say, help me to “Be still, and know that you are God”. Be my comforter, my healer and bring me peace. Lord God, You knew that this life would be difficult for us. If we are to follow You, we must pick up our cross and carry it. Nobody is a friend to the person carrying the cross. It will often be a lonely road. There will be numerous tribulations and difficult times. Though we do not know the whole story, we know that it ends with Your victory. May You help us always to rejoice in this, and take comfort in knowing that You have the final word. 🙏🏿

Riondo S Jackson 

Christian at large

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

The Witch and the Wolf Pt.24

Word Count: 2,610

Characters: Derek Hale, Peter Hale,  Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Ms.Morell, Gerard Argent, OC hunters, Reader

Pairings: Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, cliffhanger

A/N: yay one more part till season 3 lol

Masterlist      Series Masterlist

You stared down at your bruised knuckle, holding back a slight chuckle as you examined it. You sat in the hallway, waiting for your appointment with the counselor. Whoever it was. The Sheriff thought it would be best for all of you to go to her, seeing as what happened a few nights ago. He didn't know everything you’d seen before then. 

“Stiles,” you called, as he walked out of the office.

“Hey,” you sniffled, walking to you as he played with the strings on his racket.

“Nervous about the game?” you asked.

“Honestly, I’ve barely thought about the game, with everything else,” he nodded.

“How are you doing?” he asked you.

“I don’t know. Erica and Boyd are leaving, probably taking Isaac with them. But it's fine,” you replied softly, trying to convince yourself more.

You’d made a mini home with the pack.

“I don’t think Isaac will leave you, you know,” Stiles tried to make you happier.

“(Y/N),” Ms.Morell walked out of the office, waiting for you.

“Catch you later,” you pat Stiles’ back, walking away.

---

“Peter?” you gasped, staring at him as your eyes went wide.

“Missed me?” he smirked.

You felt an overwhelming sense of anger flood through your veins, before you clenched your fist, swinging at his face, hitting him.

“Oh, my-” Derek looked at you, slightly surprised as you looked back at an unconscious Peter.

“He’s alive?! He’s fucking alive?!” you yelled at Derek, smacking his arm.

“That's what I was about to tell you,” he exclaimed.

“I’m gonna kill him again! How the hell is he alive?!” you exclaimed, rubbing your head.

Derek picked up his unconscious uncle, waking out of your apartment, with you next to him.

“Lydia.”

---

“So, (Y/N), what brings you here?” Ms.Morell sat in the chair in front of you, as you crossed your legs, leaning back, playing with the skin on your knuckles.

At least you knocked Peter out.

“Sheriff Stilinski,” you replied, not paying much attention.

To you, speaking to a counselor or speaking to someone in that way wasn’t something you were fond of.

“Is it about the other night? At the station?” she asked.

“Probably,” you shrugged.

“Your mother died recently, correct?” you felt your heart drop, hearing the mention of your mother.

You simply nodded, looking at your fist.

“What happened to your fist?” she asked.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, looking up.

“Okay. Tell me, how are you doing? About your mother?” she asked.

“I’m doing fine. Just thriving,” you said sarcastically.

“How are you doing with everything else?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Your best friend and her family passed away in an unfortunate fire, and your mother passed away the same way. Not to mention being trapped in the school, with Derek Hale trying to kill you,” she started.

Derek? The rumor was cleared, everyone knew it was Kate, or so you thought.

“Derek Hale was innocent,” you shrugged.

“Oh, sorry, not Derek Hale. Peter Hale,” you looked up at her, shocked.

“What?” you asked.

“I know things, (Y/N), I know all about you,” she said.

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed.

“You know my brother, Deaton?” she said.

“Deaton?” you exclaimed, jumping slightly.

You didn't even know he had siblings.

“I know about your powers, I know about everything. So, I ask again, how are you?” he asked.

You clenched your jaw.

“I said I was fine,” you said.

“Right, (Y/N), you know what a balloon is, correct?” you blinked, giving her a blank stare.

This is the school counselor?

“You know, a balloon can only hold so much air until it pops,” she started.

You rolled your eyes, understanding what she was saying. You were supposed to be the balloon.

“Yeah, so, you see, I’m not a balloon. I’m a human being,” you said.

“Even humans, or witches, have an emotional capacity,” she said.

“No offense, but I’d really rather not talk to you,” you spat.

“You’ll need someone, (Y/N)” she started.

“I don't know why I bothered coming here. Bye,” you gave a sarcastic smile, waving as you walked out.

---

“Hey,” you walked into the old Hale house, seeing Derek’s back turned to Erica and Boyd as they both stood there, holding each other’s hands nervously.

“We’re leaving,” Erica said softly.

“When?” 

“Tonight,” she replied.

You took a deep breath, nodding your head softly.

“We can’t…” her voice wavered as she paused.

“We're sorry,” Boyd said, looking down.

“It’s okay, it's hard,” you wrapped your arms around the two of them, hugging them tightly.

“We’ll miss you,” they both held you tightly.

You smiled, sinking into the hug.

“I’ll miss you guys too,” you said softly as they both walked out.

“Derek,” you turned to give your boyfriend, walking to him.

“They said they found another pack,” he refused to turn to face you.

“Good for them,” you nodded.

“Good for them? Are you serious? Do you really believe that?” he exclaimed.

“I don’t know. What I do know is that they’re scared, Derek. We lost,” you said.

“They're running away! There’s no excuse for that!” he yelled.

Why is he so mad? What did I do?

“They're allowed to be scared. They’re allowed to leave,” you replied.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you so different? Since when is running away a good thing?” he finally turned to you.

You blinked softly, looking blankly at him. You felt your heart ache slightly, in pain. 

There was something wrong

“Not everyone's cut out to be like this,” you cleared your throat.

He sighed loudly, walking to you as he stroked your cheek gently.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” he said softly.

You just nodded your head.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Why does everyone think something’s wrong? I’m fine,” you scoffed.

At this point, even you knew that was a lie.

You heard the floor creak softly, as you quickly turned, Derek throwing a shard of glass at Peter who stood by the door.

“That was close. You could’ve hurt me, Derek.” Peter said, walking closer to the two of you.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you yelled, running at him.

This wasn't ending well for Peter.

---

“Kill me then. Kill me again. You two already killed me once, kill me again,” Peter gasped for air as you stood in front of him, Derek next to you. Your hands were wrapped around Peter’s neck, pushing him against the wall.

“If you’re trying to get sympathy, that ended when you killed my mom,” you clenched your jaw.

“You don't wanna hear what I have to say? Why I’m here in the first place. It's not to be an alpha, I tried that, which ended with you setting me on fire and this one slashing my throat,” he motioned to Derek as he looked back at you.

“We’d be glad to do it again,” you replied.

“(Y/N/N),” Derek shook his head, pulling you away from Peter as you clenched your jaw. He gasped for air, coughing slightly.

“Oh? What’s this?” Peter took a deep breath, looking at the two of you as he raised an eyebrow.

“Your scents are all tangled up with each other. What’s going on between the two of you?” he smirked, laying back on the ground while you resisted the urge to punch him again.

“Well, I wish I didn't kill Jennifer. She owes me 10 dollars now,” he laughed.

You grabbed his shirt, pulling him up harshly as you pushed him against the wall.

“If you don't tell us what you’re doing here right now, I will not hesitate to set you on fire. Again,” you spat.

Derek walked to you, putting his hand on your forearm.

“Hey, I said leave it,” you saw Derek clench his jaw as you sighed.

“He-”

“I’ll take him from here,” Derek said softly.

You shook your head, turning back to Peter.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged Derek’s hand off of you.

“Better listen to your boyfriend,” Peter teased.

Before you could punch him again, Derek pulled you off of him, pulling him away.

“What?” you turned to him.

“(Y/N), stop. It’s just Peter. He killed… I know you’re mad at him and want to kill him. Just please let me deal with him,” Derek put his hands on your shoulders, while you turned your face to look at Peter.

Derek put his hand on your chin, turning you to face him.

“Please,” he said softly.

“I hate him,” you replied.

“I know you do. Just… go home,” he begged

You paused for a second, looking at Peter then back at Derek before nodding softly. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before letting go of you as you walked away.

---

You let out a shaky breath, leading Isaac into your apartment as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I think…” Isaac paused, looking at you as his eyes watered.

“Hm?” you nodded softly, closing the door as he sat next to you on the couch.

“I’m gonna leave. With Boyd and Erica,” he said.

Shit

“Oh, okay,” your voice was low, slightly in shock as your eyes watered.

You thought he’d stay? For you?

“I-I… there’s nothing here for me now,” he sniffled.

“Yeah,” you nodded your head softly.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” his voice cracked as he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Yeah, I…” you exhaled sharply, wrapping your arms around him.

He nodded softly as you kissed his forehead.

You held your cries back, leading Isaac out of the apartment after a few minutes.

As you closed the door, you felt a wave of sadness hit you, as you put your hand over your mouth, trying your hardest to hold back your sobs. You shut your eyes tightly, your tears slipping down your face before you let out a shaky breath, a small cry falling from your lips.

Your phone began to ring, receiving a call from Scott.

You took a few deep breaths, wiping your face before answering the call.

“Yeah?” you asked, clearing your throat.

“(Y/N), Gerard’s planning something. He’s controlling Jackson and he’s gonna kill someone. Tonight,” your heart dropped as Scott yelled on the phone.

“Why?” you asked.

“He wants Derek,” you inhaled deeply.

“I’m on my way,” you hung up the phone, sniffling before wiping your face, walking out of the apartment.

You’re okay

---

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” you heard Melissa ask you.

“Melissa. I... we need to talk about the station, and...” you started.

She gave you a sorrowful look before you were interrupted by Noah walking to you two.

“Sheriff Stilinski,” you smiled softly.

“Hey, kid. Here for the game?” he asked, smiling at you and Melissa.

Nope, trying to stop a raging lizard

“Yeah,” you lied as the three of you walked to the bleachers.

---

“Scott, what the hell are we supposed to do?” you whispered, getting his attention as he shrugged his back to you.

“Have you come up with a plan?” he shook his head no as you sighed.

“Do you know when he’s going to attack?” you asked, receiving another head shake.

“Do you know anything about this plan?” you didn’t need werewolf hearing to hear him sigh.

You bit your nails nervously as Stiles stood up from the bench, putting his helmet on.

“Why is my son running onto the field?” Noah groaned.

“Because he’s on the team?” you shrugged.

“Oh my god. He’s on the team!” Noah exclaimed, remembering.

You laughed softly, before getting off the bleachers, walking to Scott.

“Why can’t you play?” you asked.

“Coach benched me for the whole game. My grades aren't good,” he said nervously.

“First,” you smacked his head.

“Ow!” 

“Work on your grades. You need to graduate. Second, how are you supposed to watch Jackson?” you asked, whispering slightly.

“I don’t know! I don’t know. All I know is that we have to give him Derek, or he’ll kill someone,” Scott said.

“We can’t do that,” you bit your lip nervously as you looked at Scott.

You felt a soft thud as you felt someone sit next to you and Scott.

You looked up, a smile on your face as you saw Isaac sit next to you, wearing his lacrosse uniform.

“You stayed,” you said softly.

“I have everything I need right here,” he nodded his head.

You pressed a small kiss to his forehead, while he gave you a hug.

You saw a smirk on his face before he got up, walking to Coach.

“With Isaac here, we can do this,” Scott nodded.

You held his hand, nodding as you watched Isaac run onto the field.

---

“Oh my god,” you ran onto the field, running to Isaac.

“Are you okay?” you asked, bending down to him.

You put your hand on his head, lifting it softly.

“I’m fine. It’s Jackson. I think he got me. I can feel it spreading,” Isaac’s voice was strained as he laid on the grass.

You saw as Coach put Scott into the game, Isaac being taken away by paramedics.

Damn it

You heard your phone ring, getting a call from Derek.

“I really can’t talk right now,” you said.

“Peter thinks he knows how to save Jackson,” he said quickly.

“What?” you asked, following the paramedics.

“I don't trust him, but he’s onto something. I’m watching him,” Derek said.

“Okay, I gotta go,” you said, hanging up.

You groaned, getting another call from Erica.

“I…” you started.

“Derek was right,” she cried.

“What?” you froze, taking shallow breaths.

“It was Argent,” she whispered.

You felt a coldness in your chest as you tensed, frozen.

“Both, run. Now,” you said.

“We’re trying. We’re bleeding,” she whispered.

“It’s okay. God,” you whispered, feeling your heart racing.

“We gotta go,” she said shakily.

“No, don't hang up,” you started.

The call dropped as tears rushed to your eyes, taking shaky breaths as you dug your nails into your palms.

Scott and Stiles, Erica and Boyd, Isaac, Derek. Everyone was in trouble. What are you doing?! What is wrong with you?!

You ran to the locker room, walking in just in time as Isaac stood up shakily, Gerard and standing in front of him with some hunters.

“Clypeus,” you stood in front of Isaac, defending him.

“Oh, (Y/N),” Gerard said, shaking his head.

“I don't care if you know. You’re not hurting the people I care about,” you spat.

---

“Where did Gerard go?” you asked Isaac, turning to him, as the unconscious hunters were sprawled out in front of you.

“I don’t know, I think he went back out to the field,” he shrugged.

“Okay,” you ran to the lacrosse field, hearing loud cheering as you looked at the scoreboard, seeing the school win.

You looked at Scott nervously, as he froze, staring at Jackson, just before the lights went out.

You ran around, hearing people’s screams as you found Scott.

“Scott!” you yelled.

“I’m here,” you felt him hold your arm.

“Scott, someone’s on the field! Someone's dead,” Melissa gasped.

The lights powered back on as you ran to the middle of the field, seeing Jackson laying there, dead.

You noticed he wasn't breathing.

“Jackson!” you heard Lydia cry.

“Everyone back away! Now!” Coach pushed the players and team away from Jackson, as you bent down next to Melissa.

“What do we do?” Melissa pulled up his shirt, revealing deep claw wounds.

“Oh god,” you said.

“He killed himself,” Scott said.

“Stiles? Stiles?” you stood up, hearing Noah calling out for Stiles.

“Stiles? Where’s my son?! Where’s my son?! Somebody tell me where the hell is my son!”

[areiton]

lightning on the mountain

READ ON AO3

Author note: I truly intended to do time travel. I had it all planned out, I’ve been looking forward to it all fucking week.And then I started it and it was making me cry AND never gonna get finished on time, so here we are. Have a badass Stiles.This is set in the world of ROAD HAZARDS, so Scott is dead, and this is a few years later.

~*~ 

There is lightning on the mountain.

The people in Sunset eye it warily, and scurry along the sidewalks as the wind picks up. A cold wind roars along the streets, and a wolf howls, long and mournful.

Lily Beth, in the cafe, sees the black van screech around the corner, and her heart stops  for a moment.

Then she snatches up her phone and made the call.

~*~

The van was, all told, shitty. He was chained to the floor, the links run through a D-ring welded to the floor, and he could feel the wolfsbane coursing through his veins. Not anything strong enough to kill him, but enough.

He huffs, and rattles his chains, getting a jab in the side from a taser for his trouble. “Seriously? It’s date night.”

~*~

The doors to the gun shop on Fifth blew open before he hung up and Chris sighed, rubbed his temples. “Calm down,” he started and Allison laughed while Lydia gave him an incredulous look. She glanced out the window, where lightning was crackling on the mountain.

“Maybe tell our fearless leaders that,” she says, dryly.

Christopher glances out the window and frowns. Fair enough. “Here,” he says, slipping a piece of paper across the counter to his daughter. “Ally. Be careful.”

The smile she gives him is savage and pitiless. “I’m not the one you should be worried about.

As they swing out the front door, and a howl cut through the air, taken up by five others--Chris knows she’s right.

~*~

They’re not terribly inventive.

“I mean, it’s a little insulting,” he says, spitting blood on the ground as the hunter with a spider tattoo on his neck glares at him. “You’re not even trying to be the worst.”

Spider nods at Eyebrows, who cranks the dial on the battery and he bites down on a howl as electricity courses through him.

~*~

The wolves are tearing through the woods. A pale blonde, a dark husky mountainous wolf, a slim snarling russet wolf and a rangy white wolf, all snapping and snarling as they race through the trees. The air reeks of ozone and power, and something foreign, something wrong, and it makes them growl.

A tall coyote appears, howling in distress and demand, and the others freeze, waiting.

Silence and lighting answer them.

~*~

“I thought the Hale Alpha was supposed to be a badass,” Red murmurs. She’s a tiny thing, reminds him distantly of Lydia, and won’t that just infuriate his little banshee. “We’ve all heard of the Pack, you know. About how you hold a fucking mountain, and Sunset is yours. About how you crippled the Argents. We’ve heard about you, and I gotta say, it’s a little disappointing.”

Peter spits a tooth out and smiles. The wolfsbane is tracing through his veins, black leaking up them now and he thinks that’s probably bad. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been a disappointment since I was born. It was my father’s favorite compliment.”

Her face crunches into something ugly and she shoves her dagger up under his ribs with a snarl.

He groans, and over it, he can hear the wind howling.

The bunker lights flicker and Red scrambles back a step as lighting blazes in the sky.

“What--what the hell?” she gives him a frightened look that almost comes off angry.

Peter smiles, bloody and pleased. “I think that’s for me.”

~*~

The wolves hit the bunker first, bounce back with furious yelps and Lydia huffs, stalking forward to brush the mountain ash aside.

Allison and Kira don’t come close, stay in their high vantage points and pick off the hunters with sniper precision, while the wolves savage those they miss.

Lydia screams the doors down, a silver wolf at her side, snarling as she opens the way.

It’s not necessary.

None of them are, and each of them know it.

But--they prefer it this way, and Stiles.

Stiles scares himself, sometimes.

It’s better this way.

~*~

He comes to and the room is eerily quiet. Red is standing at behind Spider and Eyebrows, her hands clutched around a knife as they train their guns on the doorway.

He can’t hear anything, and he wonders if that’s because there’s soundproofing or because whoever’s coming masked themselves.

“You should run,” he says, conversationally.

Spider flicks an incredulous stare at him and Peter shrugs, wincing as it jars the arrow in his shoulder. “That’s new,” he mutters.”

The door slam open so hard one actually flies off the hinges, and Red gives a little scream.

And then--she laughs.

~*~

He grins at the hunter, hands tucked into his pockets. He’s wearing dirty oversized cargo pants and a red hoodie zipped up over a black Batman tshirt, his hair messy where it hangs in his eyes, something lazy and sleepy about the way he stands there.

“Hi,” he says, cheerfully.

“Kid, you’re in the wrong place,” Red says, amused and  his gaze flicks to her. Something there makes her take a step back, and Peter snorts.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he says.

Her eyes narrow and Peter smirks. “You want to know why the hell the Hale Pack is infamous? Why no one fucks with us?” he says and Stiles flushes.

A black wolf trots out of the shadows, blood on his muzzle and his eyes gleaming crimson. He whines when he sees Peter, furious and protective and Peter feels his heart squeeze.

“Sorry, darling,” he murmurs.

Derek snarls, a wet noise as Stiles shifts. Lightning crackles around him, and Red screams as the room explodes into light.

~*~

They stumble into the cafe an hour before closing, the whole mess of them. Erica and Boyd are propping up Isaac and Jackson is draped over Lydia, Kira and Allison leaning into Chris. And all of them are carefully avoiding the gaze of Stiles, pressed between Peter and Derek.

His fingers are trembling, and there’s a splatter of red on his cheeks that Lily Beth doesn’t want to think about, and he clings to Peter’s hand.

He makes a broken sound when Peter moves away and the older man huffs, drawing him into his lap as Derek presses a kiss to the boy’s hair and moves to order.

Stiles is quiet, the way he always is, after lighting is seen on the mountain, and the others are skittish and protective, and watchful.

But Derek and Peter--they drag him into them, force coffee and brownies on him and tease until he offers up a shaky smile and Peter clucks his tongue and says, “Home, darling. You need sleep. That much magic takes it’s toll.”

“We were gonna go out,” Stiles slurs, half falling as Derek stands and Derek huffs, sweeping the boy into his arms.

“We’ll do date night at home,” he promises, and Peter hums agreeably, a hand on the other man’s back as they guide Stiles away.

“It’s always date night,” Stiles says, as the door swings shut behind them, his voice sullen.

Lily Beth exhales as the Hales leave, and she knows--tomorrow bodies will be found in the woods, and Stiles will reappear with dark circles under his eyes, the way he always does after days like today.

But for now--Sunset settles into the night, and she watches the mountain, the little Jeep trundling away with promises of date night.

The sky is clear, and there is no lighting, no roaring wind or furious howling.

All is well on the Hales’ mountain.

[r-fenghuang-fanfiction]

Coming to Terms Ch 037

Scott's ears twitch as Liam's breathing changes and Stiles puts down the manual he's highlighting.

"He's waking up?" The way Scott shifts closer to Liam is answer enough.

"Scott? Stiles?" Liam huffs, whole body feeling heavy and lungs compressed, choked with the smell of dead roses. It passes though and he feels fine, a little groggy.

"Hey, Buddy. How're you feeling?" Scott greets him softly, charmed by the way Liam's fingers clutch his sleeve.

"I'm still tired." Liam pouts, nearly and not quite whining.

"You're supposed to be in school." He accuses. Stiles steps forward then.

"Ah, we'll make it up. Besides, we kinda missed ya, Kid." His tone is teasing, like his fingers in Liam's hair.

"It's only been four months." Liam complains without pulling away.

"Yeah, but your hair grew out. And you met some new werewolves. And you never finished telling me about that history project you were working on." Scott lists each point out like every aspect of Liam's life has gravity, like Liam is the most important person in the world.

"I had to design my own ancient civilization. I added a lot of canals. I got an A." He babbles, glowing but sleepy.

"That's great, Liam." Scott responds warmly and Stiles adds:

"When you're a little more awake, you can show us. Just rest for now, though, okay? We'll get you something to eat." Liam brightens.

"Grilled-cheese? I like grilled-cheese sandwiches." His stomach rumbles in concensus. Stiles snorts.

"Yeah, Buddy. We'll get you a truck full." He laughs and Scott shifts back to make a face at him. Liam's grip tightens.

"Scott?" He implores, voice small.

"Yeah?" Scott answers, turning around again.

"Don't go." He murmurs, as young as he feels.

"I won't. I'm gonna stay right here with you."

"And Stiles. Stiles is also staying. Like, right here, y'know?" Scott gives him a side-eye but Liam beams back with a big, dopey grin.

"And Stiles. Stiles should stay. And Mason, Corey, Malia, Lydia, Kira, Hayden, Parrish, Theo... Everyone should stay. I wish everyone could stay." He starts to slur, sinking back under. Scott gives a slow, shaky exhale, brushing Liam's fringe back with calloused fingers. Blood soaked, clawed hands, dangerous.

He looks at Liam, seventeen, sugar sweet and, in that moment, completely unguarded. He'd turned a child into a soldier, just like Peter. He'd had to watch so many of his friends suffer and die, they'd lost so many and no matter who they saved it was never enough. Liam never should've had to go through that, but Scott would be lying if he said he wasn't glad to have Liam in his pack.

Strong and good and with the best of intentions-- More than that, he has faith. He has people he loves all around him, people who will fight for him and people he will survive for.

The world needs that.

"I'll go make him that grilled-cheese." Stiles assures him with a light grip on his shoulder.

"I'll call Mason." Scott answers, waiting for Stiles to leave before he speaks again.

"You could just come in, y'know. I won't try to send you back or anything." He almost laughs at the way Theo's pulse kicks up in alarm.

"How long have you known?" Theo grumbles, trying to make his voice smooth and uninvested, but distracted by the alpha and beta's tangled hands. Scott notes it without reacting.

"The whole time? You're good at hiding yourself, yeah, but your chemosignals are way stronger around Liam. You're lucky he doesn't pay much attention to them or he'd've figured you out a long time ago." Scott is too calm, too friendly, it aggravates Theo, makes his nostrils flare and his teeth grind.

"It doesn't bother you? What, you suddenly trust me now? I thought you hated me. You were willing and ready to put me in the ground not so long ago, what changed?" He accuses, defensive and wound up tight, wanting to lash out and not wanting to think about why.

"I don't hate you, Theo. You did a lot of damage, but I know you won't hurt Liam." Theo frowns, searching for deception and finding none. Scott doesn't hate Theo, never did, honestly. He can't quite make himself trust the chimera again, not yet, but when he looks at Liam... When he looks at them together, he sees a chance, a spark. Peter was so far gone, but he came back. Not entirely, but enough. Deucalian, the twins, Jackson, Derek-- They all came back. Maybe Theo will never truly be family, but already Scott can see how he cares for Liam. As long as Liam is caught in the crossfire, Scott knows Theo will keep his head down. One day Liam will take Scott's place and Theo will be good for him. He's proud of Liam. He's willing to forgive Theo in the interest of that.

Theo scowls.

"Have a seat while I call Mason." Scott implores, barest hint of a command in his low timbre. Theo climbs through the window and sits, tracking Scott's voice into the hall and attempting not to stare at the body in the bed.

He hates being outmanouvered.