𝕭𝖆𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
Sixteen - 1X09
Wolf's Bane

NATALIA PRESSES DOWN HARSHLY ON THE ACCELERATOR, FORCING THE CAR TO GO AS FAST AS IT POSSIBLY CAN.

"Slow down, you're going to kill us, Nat!" Scott shouts, gripping tightly to the dashboard in front of him as the car turns sharply.

Nat scrunches her face up, glaring at him from the corner of her eyes, "Scott, I don't think you're quite grasping the concept of a car chase, here!"

Stiles leans forwards, pushing his face in-between their seats, to glare at Scott, "If Nat slows down, Scott, they're gonna kill us!"

"But-!" Scott begins to protest.

"If you two don't stop shouting in my ear, I swear to god, I will crash this car and kill us all myself!" Nat interrupts loudly, her hands in a white-knuckled grip around the steering-wheel as she turns the car into a particularly small alley-way, "Just take a look behind us and tell me how close they are, will you?"

Stiles turns around, his shoulders deflating when he sees no cars, "They're gone."

"What?" Nat questions, her eyes flickering towards the rear-view mirror in confusion.

"They're gone." Scott repeats, his voice still panic-ridden.

Nat sends him a glare from the corner of her eyes (again), "Yeah, I heard him, asshole. But, if they think Derek's in the car, then why would'd they just leave? Why go through all of the trouble they've gone to to find him, just to leave him when they've nearly cornered him? It makes no sense!"

"Cause they know he's not in the car..." Stiles trails, realisation dawning on his face.

Nat nods in agreement, coming to the same conclusion he has, "But how do they know that?"

"All units, suspect is on foot heading into the Iron Works." Noah Stilinski's voice booms over the transit-radio.

"They have a police scanner," she scoffs, turning the wheel sharply towards where the Iron Works is located, in hope of caching Derek before the police or the hunters do (she doesn't know who's worse out of the two...), "Hold on."

She urges the car faster, her hands tightening even more around the wheel as she expertly ignores Scott's yells of protest at their speed level.

Nat turns the car sharply to the left, driving straight through the middle of the Iron Works and into the heart of the chaos.

Bullets fly, hitting the outside of the car as multiple vehicles begin to move in after them.

She spots Derek sat in wait behind a large metal crate, and immediately turns the car towards him.

Scott launches himself into the back seat as Nat reaches over and opens the passenger door.

"Get in." Stiles beckons, when the man doesn't move.

Derek, not needing to be asked twice, jumps straight into the car, bullets practically barely grazing him as he dives into the front seat of the Cameo.

He doesn't even get to shut the door before Nat is moving the car into reverse. She pushes the sleek black car to it's full speed, skilfully dodging other vehicles as they make their getaway.

When the siren sounds gets distant and the gun shots filter off, Nat slows down the car into a leisurely speed, attempting to look more natural among the other cars that tickle by them.

"What part of 'laying low' don't you understand?" Scott scolds, sending Derek a sharp look.

"Damn it, I had him!" Derek growls, banging his fist on the console of the car in frustration, ignoring Scott's comment.

Stiles leans forward, excitedly, "Who? The alpha?"

"Yes! He was right in front of me, and the friggin' police showed up!"

"Whoa! Hey, they're just doing their jobs-" Stiles
defends, stopping instantly when Derek whips around to glare at him.

Nat smirks, watching the interaction closely from the corner of her eyes, "Yeah, I gotta say, I'm with Jacob Black on this one, Stiles," Derek tears his glare away from Stiles and moves it onto her, annoyance consuming his every feature, "Though your dad's an exception, of course," she assures. Her eyes flicker to Scott, their eyes meeting in the rear-view mirror, "Your dad, on the other hand," she inhales sharply through her teeth, mutter under her breath, "What an asshole."

Derek rolls his eyes at them, continuing on as though neither Stiles nor Nat had spoken (which he seems to do a lot), "Yeah, thanks to someone who decided to make me the most wanted fugitive in the entire state!"

"Can we seriously get past that? I made a dumbass mistake. I get it." Scott groans.

"It's not his fault," Nat argues, sending Derek a glare, "We all thought you were dead! Oh, and, by the way, thanks for doing absolutely nothing to help us while we were trapped in the school with that psycho-alpha, you dick!"

Stiles sighs in annoyance at the unresponsive-glare Nat (yet again) receives from the man, "All right. How did you find him?"

Derek huffs and turns away from them, not responding to his question.

Scott scoffs, "Can you try to trust us for at least half a second?"

"We did just save your furry-ass," Nat adds, rolling her brown eyes at the man, is this how Noah feels? "again."

"Yeah, trust all of us!" Stiles exclaims confidently. Derek turns to glare at him, causing the boy to sink backwards into his seat nervously, "...Or, just Scott. I'll be back here."

Derek's eyes flicker towards her, suspicion rooted in his gaze.

Nat scoffs at his expression, "Listen, I really don't care If you trust me, or not, but with the way that things are going, you're gonna be seeing a lot more of us, whether you like it or not. And, if your gonna keep getting yourself into these messes, your gonna be needing us to get you out of 'em- and that definitely requires at least some form of trust in itself. So, if you can't trust me, or Stiles- fine. But , at least, trust Scott."

Derek sighs, turning his gaze towards the window beside him, "Look, the last time I talked to my sister, she was close to figuring something out. She found two things. The first was a guy named Harris-"

"Our chemistry teacher?" Stiles asks incredulously.

Nat curls her lip up in disgust at the mention of the man, "That creep?"

"Why him?" Scott probes, pointedly ignoring his two friend's reactions.

Derek shakes his head, "I don't know yet."

"What's the second?" Nat pushes.

Derek shuffles around in his pocket for a moment, before pulling out a piece of paper to show them, "Some kind of symbol," Scott freezes once he catches sight of it, his hand reaching out to take the piece of paper from Derek's hand, "What? You know what this is?"

Scott nods, the paper scrunching up slightly in his hand at how tightly he's holding on to it,  "I've seen it on a necklace. Allison's necklace."

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"DID YOU HAVE A NICE MIDNIGHT DRIVE LAST NIGHT, SHERIFF?" NAT GRINS, SLIDING INTO THE SEAT DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF HIS DESK.

Noah sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "Of course you would know about a confidential car chase."

Nat snorts, kicking her legs up onto his desk, "Nothing's confidential in Beacon Hills."

"Yeah, I guess that's true," he mutters, picking up a pen from his desk and pointing it at her shoes disapprovingly, "Shoes. Off."

Rolling her eyes, she complies, swinging her legs off the table and onto the floor.

Her eyes drift around the room, catching sight of the open-files on his desk. She leans forward curiously, causing Noah to quickly pull them away from her.

"Are you serious?" she exasperates, "You're still trying to keep this from me?"

"You're involved with the case! I can't show you."

"There's nothing new you can show me, Sheriff." Nat waves off, wanting nothing more than to get her hands on the files.

"Then you shouldn't need to see it." he dismisses with a shrug.

"Sheriff." she says sternly.

"Natalia." he mocks.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she stares him down with a glare, "Oh, come on! You need all the eyes you can get-"

"That's why I brought in state police-"

"-But are any of them a C.I., who can get into his head quite easily?" when he doesn't respond, she continues confidently, "I can help you find out where Derek Hale is, where he's been, and where he's going to go...I mean, you've seen what he's done, and what he can do...that night at the school, he only killed the janitor- no one else. How long do you think it'll take for him to lick his wounds, and then come back for revenge? How long 'till he comes after Allison, Scott, Erica, me...Stiles...?" she knows it's low using Stiles against him, but she needs him to know just how very real this threat really is to them, "He's devolving, Sheriff, and whether you like it admit it or not; you need me."

Noah analyses her for a few minuets, Natalia staring back determinedly as he does so, "Fine, your on the case, Hayes," she looks up at him, a smile tugging on the corners of her lips, "But-! One mistake, Natalia- just one- and you're off the case, got it?" he waits until she nods her agreement, before continuing darkly, "We have people lives on the line here, we can't afford to mess around. Not now."

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"I'M GONE FOR LIKE FIVE MINUETS AND EVEYTHING GOES TO SHIT." NAT HUFFS.

"Nat, I'm seriously panicking! What do I do?" Scott whines from the other side of the phone.

"Well, did he specifically say the word?" Nat inquires, unconcerned with Scott's current predicament.

"What word?" he asks, his voice going slightly high-pitched as panic begins to take a toll on him.

"'What word'?" she mocks, "'Werewolf', you idiot!"

"No, but he implied it pretty freaking clearly!"

"He didn't say it, Scott. He wants this reaction out of you. Jackson wants you to confess, 'cause he himself doesn't know. Take it from me, Scott, it's one of the oldest tricks in the book. Don't let it work."

Scott sighs, "Yeah, yeah, you're right."

She scoffs, watching as Noah knocks on the window, signalling for her to come back in, "Of course, I am...So, how's the necklace thing coming along?"

"She's in my next class, I'm going to try then."

"Good...you've got this, Scotty." she reassures gently.

"Right. Thanks. Get the necklace." he mutters to himself, before bidding his goodbyes and hanging up.

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NATALIA PRIDES HERSELF IN BEING GOOD AT HER JOB (SOMETHING THAT SHE FINDS EXTREMELY IRONIC, CONSIDERING HER STRONG DISLIKE FOR COPS).

She's famous around the department for her long list of criminal contacts. And, when asked about it, she'll just grin and say something about how her 'charm' seems to inevitably draw people in.

After spending the whole day at the station,
looking over the case files with the Sheriff, Nat likes to think she knows everything and anything there is to know about Derek Hale- well everything that's on file anyway- and if Nat has learnt anything about him during her long hours of research, it's that he's smart.

Very smart...

It's just a shame (for him) that she's smarter.

Derek's only been running from the cops for a few days now- Nat grew up a fugitive. She was taught- trained- how to hide from them.

She has experience that he doesn't.

And, in saying that, she knows exactly where he'll go; to the last place anyone- especially the police department- would look.

The Stilinski's house.

"Hey, Noah. What do you say we take a break?" She questions, dropping the file of Derek's family history on to his desk and grinning knowingly, "I heard from a little birdie that Stiles got first-line. Don't you think we should go and congratulate him, when he gets home from school?"

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NAT WALKS NTO STILES' BEDROOM, NOT EVEN BLINKING AN EYE AT DEREK, WHO STANDS IN THE CORNER OF THE ROOM MENACINGLY.

"What are you doing here?" she asks flippantly, lounging back onto Stiles' bed with a book that was on his desk (no doubt about werewolves and their moon-howling habits).

"What are you?" Derek returns stiffly, not even moving an inch from where he's standing.

Nat sends him a look from over the top of her book, "This is my handlers house, am I not aloud to rummage through his draws for his silverware?"

Derek raises an unimpressed eyebrow and goes to open his mouth, but Natalia beats him to in, "That was a rhetorical question," her eyes flicker towards the clock on Stiles' desk as she waves towards it lazily, "He'll be home any second now- that's assuming that you're here waiting for Stiles, and not the Sheriff- or, are you here to turn yourself in?"

"For what? I haven't down anything."

"Well...not yet, you haven't. But brooding in an underage teenage-boy's bedroom, while his father's downstairs waiting for said boy to return home from school? There's definitely a case there."

He sends her a glare, but other than that, doesn't deem her with an actually answer.

Nat takes that as a win.

"How are you by the way?" despite the words that fall from her lips, her tone is not at all caring in any form. She needs to make sure he's in a good enough state to fight the alpha, or else there's an even bigger chance that they'll all gonna die.

"What?"

Nat rolls her eyes, has this guy got any social skills?

"You got speared by the alpha only a few days ago- blood literally came out of you mouth! But, seeing as your still here, your healing factor must have worked. How does that work by the way? Did it heal differently because an Alpha hurt you? Did it even leave a scar?"

"Why do you want to know?" he snarls, his voice suddenly defensive.

Nat holds her hands up in mock surrender, her eyebrows raising slightly, "Was just making conversation...And I am mildly curious at how someone can come back from an injury like that..."

Derek tilts his head sideways, his body growing even more stiff, "He's here."

Nat watches as Derek sinks back into the shadows, before shrugging and going back to her book, not even looking up when Stiles' bedroom door opens.

"Jesus, Nat!" he yelps, his hand grasping at his chest in shock, "Don't do that!"

"Hey, Stiles." she smirks, dropping the book to the side of her in favour of watching Stiles chuck his bag to the floor and settle at his computer screen.

"Hey, Stiles!" Noah shouts up the stairs, having heard his son come home and run immediately up the stairs.

Stiles turns around from his computer, his eyes lingering on the screen for a few seconds, "Yo, D-Derek?"

Derek's finger shoots up towards his lips as he aggressively points towards the open door.

Nat snorts as Stiles fumbles towards it in panic.

"What'd you say?" Noah's voice sounds through the door.

"What? I said, 'Yo, D-Dad.'" Stiles stutters out.

Nat shakes her head in amusement, watching as Derek's face twists in poorly-concealed anger at Stiles' horrible lying.

Noah sighs, "Listen, I've got something I've got to take care of, but I'm gonna be there tonight. I mean, your first game!"

"My first game...ah, it's great! Awesome. Uh, good!"

"I'm very happy for you. And I'm really proud of you."

Nat smiles as the Stilinski's converse, but can't help the feeling of jealousy that rises in her chest at Stiles' relationship with his father.

She can only imagine what that kind of love and support would feel like now...

"Thanks. Me too. I'm happy and proud of myself."

"So, they're really gonna let you play, right?"

"Yeah, Dad- I'm first line! And, so is Nat! Believe that?" Stiles beams.

"Nat got in too?" Noah asks. Natalia can almost hear the frown on his face, "she didn't say."

"Yeah, she did!"

"But, she doesn't even go to your school."

"Yeah, I know, but it's Nat, what did you expect?" Stiles snorts.

Noah chuckles, "Well, I guess I'll just have to cheer the both of you on then!"

A warm, unexplainable emotion curls tightly in Nat's chest, simmering happily beneath her skin.

"I'm very proud."

"Oh, me, too. Again, I'm- Huggie, huggie, huggie..."

Nat cringes slightly, pursing her lips together in an attempt to stop her laughter from leaving her throat.

He has worse social skills under pressure, then Derek does in general- something she didn't even know was possible!

"See you there. Tell Nat good luck, too."

"Yeah- yeah, okay! Take it easy," Stiles opens his bedroom door, slowly slipping back inside as he waves his dad off. Once inside, he exhales in relief, "I'm sor-"

Derek interrupts him by grabbing him roughly by the jacket, shoving him against the door with a menacingly growl, "If you say one word..."

Nat immediately pulls herself up from the bed, walking closer to the duo slowly, her eyes watching Derek's hands closely.

If he even thinks about hurting Stiles...

"Oh, what? You mean, like, 'Hey, Dad, Derek Hale's in my room. Bring your gun!'?" Stiles snarks, not even flinching at Derek's intimidation technique. Nat stands next to them, closer to Stiles than Derek, ready to jump in if necessary (despite knowing that Derek would probably kick both of their asses anyway). When Derek doesn't answer, Stiles continues with a smug smirk, "Yeah, that's right. If we're harbouring your fugitive ass, it's my house, my rules, buddy."

Derek clenches his jaw in irritation, remaining silent as he slowly nods, releasing his grip on Stiles and smoothing down his jacket slightly.

Stiles huffs out a small laugh at his actions, and does to the same to Derek, earning himself a menacing head jerk from the man.

"Oh, my God!" Stiles gasps, flinching backwards.

Nat pushes Stiles forwards as he walks past her, nudging him towards his desk- and consequently, away from Derek.

"Scott didn't get the necklace?" Derek questions, moving back into the corner of Stiles' room once again.

"No. He's still working on it." Stiles replies shortly.

"I thought he was going to get it in one of his lessons?" Nat inquires, sitting on the edge of Stiles' desk, so that she's able to see both of them at all times.

Stiles shakes his head, inhaling slightly, "Did not work out...," Nat grimaces at his implications, "But, there's something else we can try. The night we were trapped at the school, Nat sent a text to this girl, Erica, and Scott sent one to Allison, both asking them to meet them there."

"...So?" Derek furrows his eyebrows, not seeing the point he's making.

Stiles rolls his eyes, "So, it wasn't them."

"You broke Scott's phone, remember?" Nat adds, "and I lost mine while we were running for our lives from our resident Fenrir Greyback."

"Well, can you find out who sent it?" Derek asks.

"No, not me... But, I think I know somebody who can...," Stiles trails, "and if that doesn't work out, we've always got Nat; she's got some weird contacts, man."

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"YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT?"

"Trace a text." Stiles answers simply.

Danny shakes his head rapidly, pulling out his chemistry book, "I came here to do lab work- that's what lab partners do."

"And we will!...Once you trace the text."

Danny looks at him sceptically, "And what makes you think I know how?"

"I-I looked up your arrest report." Stiles stutters.

"A hacker at thirteen," Nat comments, from where she sits on Stiles' bed, "That's impressive. Very...You know, if you ever wanna go further in to the business, give me a call and I can hook you up with some-"

"No! No- this is not a criminal recruitment meeting, okay? It's a phone tracking one." Stiles scolds, turning to glare at Nat.

He stammers, his eyes flickering between the two, "They dropped the charges."

"Lucky you." Nat mumbles, rolling her eyes.

"Whatever." Stiles shrugs.

"No, we're doing lab work," Danny repeats firmly, sitting down next to Stiles and setting his work out on the desk.

After a beat of silence, Danny glances back at Derek, leaning closer to Stiles and jutting his finger out towards the man, "Who's he again?"

"Um, my cousin...Miguel..." Stiles trails.

Nat smirks, biting her lip to contain her laughter, as Derek glares daggers at Stiles through his eyelashes.

"...Is that blood on his shirt?"

Nat glances towards Derek, grimacing slightly when she sees the sticky, red blood imprinted on to him, "Yeah. You see Miguel has these horrible nosebleeds."

Stiles hums in agreement, turning to look at Derek with a pointed look, "Hey, Miguel... I thought I told you you could borrow one of my shirts?"

Derek silently closes the book in front of him, before chucking it onto the bed next to Nat, only missing her foot by a mere inch.

"Hey, watch it, Miguel, or else I'll give you another reason for those nosebleeds." She snarls, earning herself a scowl in response as he walks over to the dresser, pulling his shirt off aggressively and tossing it to the ground.

"So, anyway, I mean, we both know you have the skills to trace that text, so we should probably-" Stiles begins, turning back towards Danny. Nat tilts her head when Danny, instead of listening to Stiles' mindless babbles, keeps his eyes pointed on Derek's figure.

A mischievous smirk makes its way onto her face.

Maybe there is a way to make him do what they want, after all...

"Uh, Stiles...?" Derek interrupts.

Stiles whirls back around to face him, barely suppressing a groan, "Yes?"

Derek tugs at the shirt in his hands, "This...no...fit!"

"Then try something else on!" Stiles scoffs, rolling his eyes and turning back towards his lab partner, "Sorry-", he starts, only to freeze when he realises where Danny is looking.

Stiles shoots Nat a look, his eyes wide as he seems to come to the same conclusion Nat has.

The girl smirks back at him, "Hey, that one looks pretty good, huh? What do you think, Danny?"

Danny shuffles uncomfortably at her question, "Huh?"

"The shirt?" Stiles classifies, nodding towards Derek.

"It's...it's not really his colour..." Danny finally pushes out through gritted teeth.

Nat hums in agreement, not being able to stop a grin from sliding onto her lips as Derek glowers, pulling off the shirt and chucking it to the floor roughly.

"You swing for a different team, but you still play ball, don't you, Danny-boy?" Stiles whispers to the boy beside him with a smirk.

"You're a horrible person." Danny mutters.

"I know. It keeps me awake at night. Anyway, about that text..."

"Stiles! None of these fit!" Derek yells in frustration, chucking the rest of the shirts to the floor with a glare.

Danny watches Derek for a beat before turning back towards Stiles, "I'll need the ISP, the phone number, and the exact time of the text."

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"THERE. THE TEXT WAS SENT FROM A COMPUTER. THIS ONE."

Nat looks at the screen in shock- this can't be real.

How did the alpha get Melissa's login information?

"Are you sure?" Nat interrogates, glaring at the screen as though it can possibly change the contents.

"Positive." Danny nods.

"Registered to that account name?" Derek questions gruffly.

Stiles shakes his head rapidly, "No, no, no, no. That can't be right."

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"DID YOU GET THE PICTURE?" SCOTT'S VOICE QUESTIONS, HIS VOICE ECHOING THROUGH THE PHONE.

"Yeah, I did, and it looks just like the drawing." Stiles replies, scrutinising the picture of Allison's necklace.

"That's cause it is the same as the drawing," Nat mutters, looking over Stiles' shoulder at the picture with a frown, "I thought we established this ages ago..."

Derek ignores the two teens beside him as he reaches forward, grabbing Stiles' wrist and using his grip to pull the phone closer towards him, "Hey, is there something on the back of it? There's gotta be something- an inscription, an opening, something..."

"No, no, the thing's flat. And, no, it doesn't open. There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing. And where are you guys? You're supposed to be here. You're both first line!" Scott worries.

"Is that, Hayes?" Coach Finstock asks, not even allowing the boy to answer before ripping the phone out of Scott's grasp, "Hayes!" he shouts down the phone, making the three of them collectively pull away from it, "Where are you and that Bilinski kid at?"

"Listen, coach, we-" she starts, correcting herself when she see's Stiles' aborting gestures, a clear sign he wants to be left out of whatever is happening, "-I am not gonna be able to make it to the game
tonight."

"What- Hayes, you better be joking," he rebukes, "You're one of my star players; I need you here,
not off doing whatever teenagers are doing now a days!"

"Yeah I know, and I want to be there! I really do! But I mean...you've heard of this asshole, Derek Hale, right?" she inquires, a smirk playing on her lips as Derek whips around in his seat to glare at her.

"Yeah, of course, he's that serial killer that killed the janitor right?" He questions, waiting for her to confirm, before agreeing lowly, "Major asshole..."

"Yeah! I know right!" she grins, nodding her head rapidly as Stiles snorts beside her, "Anyway! Since I'm the only C.I. here- and the only person who can help find him, since the police here are kinda useless- the department wants me to stay, so that I can help them look for this guy. "

He lets out a prolonged groan at her words (one that lasts so long it gives Natalia enough time to check her nails) before sighing, "Okay, fine- fine! But I expect you not to miss the next one, Hayes, or your out! I don't even care if there's a whole group of murderers killing teens, okay? If you miss the next game, you're off the team, got it?"

"Loud and clear, Coach." she beams, high fiving Stiles as Derek remains stony faced, staring at them with pure hate.

The phone fumbles for a second before Scott comes back on the phone, "What the hell just happened?"

"She 'Natalia'd' her way out of it." Stiles muses.

"Of course, she did," Scott sighs, "Listen Man, Nat might've gotten out of playing this game, but you haven't! And you're not gonna be able play if you're not here to start..." Scott trails.

"I know. Look, if you see my dad, can you tell him...tell him I'll be there, I'll just be a little bit late, okay? All right, thanks."

Stiles hangs up, letting out a loud groan as he chucks his phone down onto the dashboard.

"You're not gonna make it." Derek states, unsympathetically.

Stiles sighs, "I know."

"And you didn't tell him about his mom, either."

"Not 'til we find out the truth." Nat replies sternly, still not convinced about the whole 'Mellisa-alpha' thing.

"By the way? One more thing..."

Stiles turns to Derek expectantly, "Yeah?"

The older-man reaches forward, curling his hand around the back of Stiles' neck and slamming his face down into the steering wheel, "Oh, God! What the hell was-"

"You know that was for," Derek growls, pointing at his with a glare, "Go. Go!"

Stiles pushes out of the vehicle, groaning in pain as he does so.

Derek turns around to face Nat, his glare now pinning itself on her.

"Don't even think about it, Mutt." she warns, narrowing her eyes at him and climbing out of the jeep.

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"YEAH, I SAID WE CAN'T FIND HER."

"Look, ask for Jennifer. She's been looking after my uncle." Derek informs them as they enter the hospital room the werewolf had told them to find.

"Yeah, well, he's not here, either." Nat proclaims, her eyes darting around the empty room in search of the comatose man.

"What?"

"He's not here. He's gone, Derek." Stiles repeats, rolling his eyes and shooting Nat a look that practically screams 'can you believe this guy!'

"Stiles, Nat, get out of there right now! It's him! He's the Alpha! Get out!" Derek yells through the phone, sending cold-fear down their spines.

Nat immediately grabs onto Stiles' wrist, pulling him out of the door and down the hallway they had just come from, only to be stopped when a man with burns covering the side of his face, steps in front of them, blocking their way out.

Nat tactically moves in front of Stiles, her hand squeezing his wrist tightly.

"You must be Stiles and Natalia." The man smirks.

Stiles tugs at her hand, turning them in the opposite direction of Peter, only to be stopped by a women in a nurses uniform, "What are you doing here? Visiting hours are over."

Nat clenches her jaw, "We were just leaving, actually."

"You...and him...You're-you're the one who- Oh, my- and he's- Oh, my God, We're gonna die!" Stiles gasps, squeezing harshly on Nat's hand in panic.

The sound of a body hitting the floor turns her attention away from Peter and the little stare-off they've been having and onto the nurse, who lies unconscious on the floor, Derek standing above her with a vicious snarl on his face.

"That's not nice. She's my nurse." Peter pouts, feigning sympathy.

"She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people. Get out of the way." Derek growls.

Natalia, not needing to be asked twice, uses her grip on Stiles' wrist to pull them both to the floor.

"You think I killed Laura on purpose? One of my own family?" Peter interrogates as he stalks forwards.

Derek growls at the man, his claws swinging out towards him angrily. Peter grabs him by the neck, throwing him against the wall with such a force that it crumbles beneath him.

He lets go of his nephew's neck with a nonchalant flick of his wrist, sending Derek to the floor next to Nat and Stiles.

The duo scramble out of the way of his limp body, awkwardly shuffling past the nurse, who still lies unconscious on the floor.

Peter moves towards the other werewolf, grabbing him by the neck once more as he lifts him from the ground, "My mind, my personality, were literally burned out of me. I was being driven by pure instinct."

Peter's words make her shiver, the uncanny resemblance to her father, sending horror down her spine.

He drops Derek carelessly next to the body of the nurse, as he begins to search through the woman's uniform determinedly.

Derek scoffs at his uncle's words, climbing to his feet as he rears back a hand to punch Peter in the face, "You want forgiveness?"

After a small struggle, Peter soon regains the high ground. He slams his fist violently into Derek's face, leaving him slightly dazed.

The alpha then sends a firm kick to Derek's chest, sending him skidding helplessly across the hospital floor, "I want understanding."

Nat tugs sharply on Stiles' hand, waiting until she has his full attention before nodding towards the door. There's no way they're going to win this...It's best to cut there losses and leave-while they still can.

Plus, they need to warn Scott about Peter...

He looks back towards the fight for a moment, before sending her a jerkily nod, squeezing tightly onto her hand in agreement.

They slowly raise into a crouch, before rounding the desk, making sure Peter's still occupied with Derek, before running towards the door.

She was right, after all; they are so doomed.

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(4256 words)
Written: 8/08/2022
Edited: 07/09/2022
Edited: 14/08/2023
Edited: 21/01/2024

author's notes,
I hope you enjoyed this!!
THANK YOU FOR READING <3
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