Flashbacks and Echos

The moment we stepped into the hospital, I knew something was wrong. The air was thick with tension, the usual beeping of machines drowned out by hurried footsteps and frantic voices. Nurses rushed from room to room, their faces tight with stress. Something was off.

Melissa was already moving at a thousand miles per hour, her hands pressed down on a patient's wound as she barked orders. "Okay, keep pressure on it. The doctor's on her way," she called out before turning to a nurse. "And does anyone know where Dr. Hilyard is?"

A man groaned nearby, clutching his side. A woman sat in a wheelchair, her hand wrapped in bloody gauze, her face twisted in pain. I hovered near Scott, my arms wrapped around myself, willing my body to keep moving despite the sharp, dull ache still radiating from my side. It wasn't like anyone here needed to see me struggling- not when there were people who needed help.

Melissa sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Oh, thank God! I'm starving."

Scott blinked. "Uh... what?"

Melissa looked at the takeout bag in his hands. "Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you for bringing me dinner."

"Is everything okay?" I asked, glancing around at the chaos.

"Except for half the accident victims in a ten-car pile-up being rerouted here from downtown, and the ER attending not answering any of his pages... yeah, I'm okay," she said dryly. That made my stomach twist. Not answering pages? That never meant anything good.

"What does that mean?" Scott asked, his voice wary.

Melissa's lips pressed into a thin line. "It means that nobody can find him, so now we have to wait for the on-call to get here."

A woman groaned from one of the beds. "Miss?"

Melissa immediately turned toward her. "Yes?"

"Excuse me, can I, uh... please have something for the pain?" she asked weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Melissa's expression softened, but she shook her head. "I know, I'm sorry. But actually, giving you something could complicate things, so we really just need to wait for the doctors, okay?"

The woman gave a slow, defeated nod. "Yeah... okay."

Melissa turned to one of the nurses. "How much longer on Dr. Hilyard?"

"Ten minutes," the nurse replied.

Scott shifted beside me, his expression troubled. "You know, I think I read online that sometimes human contact can help with pain..." The lady nodded and I watched him pull some of her pain, the veins in his arm. After a moment a voice echoed from down the hall.

"Someone! Someone help me!" I turned just in time to see Ethan stumbling toward us, panic in his eyes. He was half-carrying Danny, who looked pale and dazed.

"I need help!" Ethan gasped.

Melissa rushed forward. "Okay, gentle! Gentle!" She guided them toward an open bed.

Scott's expression darkened. "What did you do to him?"

Ethan shook his head, his breath uneven. "Nothing! He said he was having chest pains and trouble breathing, but it just kept getting worse..."

Melissa's face paled. "This is not good."

I edged closer. I should have kicked Ethan's ass the second he got close to Danny. Sweet, innocent Danny who knew nothing about the supernatural but had been hurt from it twice. "How bad?"

Melissa ignored me, turning to the nurse. "How much longer on Dr. Hilyard?"

"Still ten minutes."

She muttered a curse under her breath, then placed her hands on Danny's chest, eyes scanning him rapidly. Her expression sharpened, her jaw tightening.

"His larynx has shifted to the side. I think it's a tension pneumothorax," she said.

Scott's breath hitched. "Mistletoe."

Melissa turned sharply. "You three, waiting room. Now."

Ethan's eyes darted around the hospital in frustration. "Where are the nurses? The doctors? Where is everyone?"

"It's a full house tonight," Melissa said quickly. "They're tending to other patients."

Scott took a step closer. "Mom, how can we help?"

Melissa shook her head. "Honey, you can't. His lung is collapsed. His heart is being pushed against his chest cavity, so-"

"He's going to die, isn't he?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I felt the tears rising in my eyes.

Melissa hesitated. Then, her expression hardened. "No. No, he's not." Melissa moved with the same confidence I'd seen in Scott before a fight-pure instinct, pure resolve.

"Scott, grab the tape. You," she pointed to Ethan, "cut his shirt open."

Ethan hesitated for a fraction of a second before doing as he was told. I swallowed hard, watching as Melissa moved quickly, precisely.

Scott's voice broke through the tension. "Mom, he's not breathing."

"I know. I know," she said quickly. She stabbed a needle straight into Danny's chest.

For a long, heart-stopping second, nothing happened. Then Danny sucked in a sharp, wheezing breath. His entire body shuddered, his chest rising and falling raggedly.

"Thank you..." he mumbled weakly. I stared at her, mouth open and eyes wide.

Melissa exhaled. "What?"

Scott stared at her in awe. "That was awesome."

Melissa waved him off, her face calm despite the high-stakes situation she had just handled like a pro. "It was nothing. No big deal." A nurse called for her and she squeezed Scott's shoulder on the way out.

Immediately Scott and I both turned to Ethan, eyes blazing.

"I know you're not gonna believe me, but I didn't do anything." He said, crossing his arms.

I scoffed. "All I know is that the minute that you got here, you went right for Danny, and your brother went for Lydia."

"We're not gonna hurt him."

"Why should we believe you?" Scott asked.

"Because we knew one of them was gonna be important to you... And now we know it's Lydia." Ethan said with a shrug. Stiles met us outside the hospital.

"These are definitely sacrifices, right?" Scott said.

"Yeah, it's the one Deaton mentioned-- Healers" Stiles confirmed.

"What about Danny? He threw up mistletoe. That's not a coincidence, and if he hadn't been with Ethan, he probably would've died. Danny's not a healer. I..." I trailed off, watching Stiles' focus shift away from me.

"Can you hear that?" He asked, looking between us.

"They found a body." Scott said quietly.

My fingers curled around the handle of my knife, flipping it between my fingers, the familiar motion grounding me. Isaac stood near the doorway of Derek's loft, arms crossed, while Boyd leaned against the wall, his expression unreadable. Derek, as always, looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Go back to school," Derek ordered, voice gruff, final.

Isaac scoffed. "Well, actually, we can't. Boyd and I are incredibly and unbelievably sick."

Derek arched an eyebrow. "With what? Brain damage?"

Isaac smirked. "Well, I have a migraine, and, uh... Boyd here has explosive diarrhea."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as Boyd turned to glare at Isaac, unimpressed.

"The school knows better than to question me." I piped up, though I was ignored.

"We're here to protect you," Boyd said, voice steady and certain.

Derek let out a sharp breath. "You're here to protect me? Well, I'm in trouble, then."

I rolled my eyes. "Technically, they're here to help. And considering you do have a habit of almost dying, I'd say it's warranted." Derek shot me a glare, but I just smirked.

Isaac, ever eager to push buttons, grinned. "Actually, Boyd came up with a plan."

Boyd nodded. "Yeah, I thought about the time Gerard had me and Erica locked up, tied up with electrical wires pushing currents through us. I was wondering how we could do something like that... but on a bigger scale."

He went on to explain the plan, the water, and the electrical system. "In a pool of electrified water, it can take up to fifty milliamps to kill a normal human-- less than the power it takes to turn on a light bulb. If we disable the circuit interrupter in the building's electrical room, the current will keep coming, and anyone who steps foot in here? They'll get a pretty shocking surprise."

Isaac grinned. "Especially one whose barefoot."

It was all a little too science based for me, but I got the jist. Don't touch the water.

Isaac leaned forward. "Is this gonna kill 'em?"

Boyd smirked. "I hope so."

I sighed. "You hope so? That's comforting." We set the plan in motion, I mainly stayed out of the way, flipping my knife between my fingers. Once they finished we settled in the center of the room, eyes on the door.

Derek however, walked toward the circuit box, studying it. I frowned, looking at it too. "Isn't that light supposed to be on?" I immediately pulled out my phone, sending a hail mary text.

"Yeah..." Derek muttered, his brow furrowing.

Isaac shifted, unease creeping into his expression. "What does it mean if it's not?"

My fingers tightened around the handle of my knife.

Derek turned, face grim. "Someone cut the auxiliary power."

Boyd took a step back, already preparing. "What about the main-"

A loud crash echoed through the loft.

Isaac swallowed. "Derek... What do we do now?"

Derek's voice was steady, unwavering. "We fight." My hand tightened around my knife, shoulders squared.

The doors exploded open, dust kicking up as Kali strode inside like she owned the place. Her movements were slow, deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey.

"Gonna be honest, Derek," she mused, tilting her head. "When Ennis died, I thought to myself, I'll just go for it-find you and kill you, wherever you stood." Her smirk curled into something vicious. "Then, I remembered how you surround yourself with these teenagers, hiding behind them, and I thought, 'What's a girl gotta do to get you alone?'"

I stepped forward instinctively, placing myself slightly in front of Boyd and Isaac. Kali's gaze flickered to me, lips curling with amusement.

"And look who we have here," she mused. "The little guardian."

I didn't flinch, though my grip on my knife tightened. "That's Guardian with a capital G, actually. You'd be amazed how much damage I can do without claws or fangs." I hissed

Kali chuckled. "Oh, you're feisty. Too bad you'll be useless once this is over and Deucalion gets what he wants." She turned her attention back to Derek. "You and me, Derek... or they tear her apart."

I forced my body to remain still, even as my heart pounded in my chest.

"What do you say?" Kali goaded. "You think you can beat me one-on-one?"

Derek's growl rumbled his eyes crimson. "I'm gonna rip your throat out," he snarled. "With my teeth."

The fight exploded into chaos.

Kali moved fast-too fast. One second, she was smirking at Derek, the next, she was striking out, sending him flying backward.

I barely had time to react before one of the other Alphas lunged at me. I ducked, twisting out of the way, my blade slicing through the air and catching him across the arm.

A roar of pain echoed through the loft. His hand caught my other arm and he ripped me towards him, trapping me by my neck, his claws pressed against them. I looked around, seeing Isaac and Boyd in similar positions. Derek was on the ground, breathing heavily.

I saw the light flicker back on. My message to Cora had worked. I looked at Isaac and then Derek, who both caught my plan. But, it wasn't soon enough. Not enough. The alpha holding Boyd brought him towards Derek. Kali forced him into position, his hand up, claws towards the sky.

I kept fighting my captor, but I knew it was no use. It happened before any of us could even truly move. Kali, shoving Boyd straight into Derek's claws.

Isaac's strangled yell rang through the loft. Derek's eyes widened in shock, his hands coated in Boyd's blood. "NO!"

Boyd gasped, his body trembling. Derek caught Boyd before he collapsed completely, his face stricken with grief.

"I'm giving you until the next full moon, Derek," Kali continued, voice deceptively light. "Make the smart choice. Join the pack... or next time, I'm killing all of you." Isaac and I were released, both of us rushing to Derek and Boyd's side.

Boyd's breathing was shallow, his voice weak. "It's okay..."

Derek shook his head, voice breaking. "No, no... No, it's not... It's not..." I felt my own tears spilling, trying to think of a way to fix this.

Boyd gave him a small, sad smile. "It's all okay, Derek..." His body sagged against him. "I'm... I'm sorry." Tears blurred my vision. I found Isaac's hand. We may have been fighting and to far gone to be anything anymore, but in this moment, it didn't matter. Isaac had just lost another packmate to the alpha pack.

"The full moon... that feeling?" Boyd murmured, voice fading. "That was worth it. There's a lunar eclipse. I always wondered what... what that felt like for one of us... for a Werewolf..."

His last breath left his lips, and the loft fell into suffocating silence.

-----☾☼-----

"Doc," Scott murmured urgently, his hands hovering over Deaton as if afraid to hurt him more. "Are you okay?"

Deaton exhaled slowly, his gaze sharpening as it met Scott's. "Your eyes were red," he said, his voice calm despite the clear exhaustion weighing on him. "Bright red."

Scott froze. His throat went dry. "How is that possible?"

Deaton studied him carefully before speaking again. "It's rare-something that doesn't happen within a hundred years. But, every once in a while, a Beta can become an Alpha without having to steal or take that power."

Scott's stomach tightened as Deaton's words sank in. "They call it a True Alpha," the older man continued. "One that rises purely on the strength of character, by virtue, by sheer force of will."

Scott shook his head, still trying to process it. "...You knew this would happen."

Deaton gave him a knowing look. "I believed. From the moment I knew you were bitten, I believed. Especially after I met Cassandra"

Scott let out a shaky breath, still reeling from everything he had just heard. He had spent so long just trying to control what he was, to not let it define him. And now, Deaton was saying that he wasn't just another Beta, he was something else entirely. But then another thought hit him, cutting through the haze of shock like a blade.

"You're not the only one," Scott muttered, his chest tightening.

Deaton sighed, already knowing where Scott's mind was going.

"Deucalion isn't after Derek," Deaton said, voice grim. "He's after you."

Scott barely heard him. His thoughts were already somewhere else. On her.

If Deucalion was after him, then he was after Cassie too.

Scott swallowed hard. "If I'm that important," he said slowly, his pulse pounding, "then Cass"

"She's just as important," Deaton interrupted. "Maybe more."

Scott's jaw clenched. He had known there was something different about Cassie for a long time, long before the whispers of a prophecy, long before anyone started throwing around words like Guardian. But he had convinced himself that she could still be safe, that she didn't have to be dragged into this any deeper than she already was.

He had been wrong.

"She's meant to keep the balance, Scott," Deaton continued, watching him closely. "Guardians exist for a reason. They don't just fight - they protect. And right now, with you becoming a True Alpha, you're tipping the scales."

Scott's fists clenched. "So if they take her out, they can control me."

Deaton nodded gravely. "The Alpha Pack knows that together, the two of you pose the greatest threat to them. You lead, Scott. Cassandra keeps you from losing yourself. You keep Cassandra from danger. They want to break that bond before it becomes too strong."

Scott's entire body tensed. He felt his claws threatening to push through his fingertips, the anger rolling off him in waves.

"That's not gonna happen," he growled.

Deaton gave him a small, approving nod. "Good. Because whether you realize it or not, the two of you are already shaping the future of Beacon Hills... and beyond."

Scott took a deep breath, pushing past the fear, the uncertainty, the weight of what Deaton was telling him. He couldn't afford to hesitate. Not when Cass was in danger. Not when this wasn't just about him anymore.

"Then we stop them," he said, determination settling into his bones.

-----☾-----

Cora sat stiffly on the worn-out couch, arms crossed as she stared down Stiles, who, despite his usual sarcasm, looked serious. I was on the other end of the couch, silent, my fingers absentmindedly tracing over a healing wound on my arm. The fight with the Alphas had left all of them a little worse for wear.

Peter leaned against the railing, his smirk unwavering as he observed them, the self-appointed storyteller of the evening.

"They were there for two days, waiting. Hiding," Cora explained. "That's what we were taught to do when the Hunters find us-hide and heal."

Stiles scoffed, shaking his head. "Okay, so, is two days standard, then? Or are we thinking Derek's on, like, some extended getaway?"

Cora narrowed her eyes. "Why do you care?"

Stiles let out a humorless laugh. "Why do I care? Let's see-because, over the last few weeks, my best friend tried to kill himself, his boss nearly got ritually sacrificed, a girl I've known since I was three was ritually sacrificed, Boyd was killed by Alphas-do you want me to keep going? 'Cause I can. For, like, an hour."

My gaze flickered to him at that, recognizing the sharp edge in his voice. He was tired. They all were.

"You think Derek can do anything about that?" Cora asked.

Stiles crossed his arms. "Well, since he's the one everyone seems to be after, it's more like he should do something about it, yeah."

Cora hesitated before answering. "I don't know... there's something different about him now. He wasn't like this when I knew him."

"He changed after the fire." I said quietly, nodding along.

"What was he like?" Stiles asked.

Peter smiled knowingly at her. "A lot like Scott, actually. A lot like most teenagers-unbearably romantic, profoundly narcissistic, tolerable really only to other teenagers." The story seemed familiar. I remember Derek having his heart broken, Blaise trying to console him. But the details were hazy and I wasn't sure who it was but I remember it a bit.

Stiles arched a brow. "So, what changed him?"

Peter's smirk widened. "Well, the same thing that changes a lot of young men... A girl."

Stiles groaned. "You're telling me some girl broke his little heart? That's why Derek is the way he is?"

Peter's expression darkened just slightly. "Do you remember that before Derek was an Alpha, his eyes were blue? Do you know why some wolves have blue eyes?"

Stiles frowned. "I just always thought it was, like, a genetic thing..."

Peter shook his head. "If you want to know what changed Derek, you need to know what changed the color of his eyes."

-----⊹₊⟡⋆----

A basketball dribbled loudly across the empty music room floor as a group of cocky teenage boys surrounded a lone girl trying to play her cello.

"Uh oh! Uh oh!" one of them taunted.

"Hey, do you mind? I'm trying to practice," Paige snapped, her fingers tightening around her bow.

A young Derek Hale smirked, bouncing the ball between his hands. "How do you know we're not trying to practice here too?"

Paige shot him a flat look. "Yeah, well, see, I was practicing in the music room, and I'm pretty sure basketball practice takes place in the gym."

Derek's smirk widened. "Well, I'm pretty sure basketball practice takes place anywhere you've got a basketball..." He spun it on his finger. "See?"

Paige sighed, exasperated.

"Hold on, hold on-if you can get the ball from me... maybe I'll stop."

Paige scowled. "I hate you."

Derek grinned. "You love me."

-----☾-----

"I remember her. Blaise mentioned her. Vaguely, what happened to her?" I asked, leaning forward slightly.

Peter's smirk faded. "What do you think happened? They were teenagers-one minute, it's 'I hate you, don't talk to me,' the next, it's frantic groping in any dark corner they could manage to find themselves alone for five minutes. Their favorite dark corner was an abandoned distillery outside of Beacon Hills."

Stiles scrunched his nose. "All right, hold up-how do you know all this? You just said that they were alone."

Peter exhaled dramatically. "Back then, I wasn't just Derek's uncle. I was his best friend, his closest confidante. That's how I know."

"Blaise was his best friend. You were his uncle who knew about the supernatural." I spat. Peter ignored me. "What changed?" I asked.

Peter's smile returned, but there was something colder in his eyes now.

"Derek wanted to keep her. Forever."

-----⊹₊⟡⋆----

Derek sat on the bleachers, watching Paige as she played her cello. His uncle's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Doesn't she have any friends?" Peter asked, settling next to him.

"She likes to study during lunch," Derek muttered. "And I don't think she likes my friends."

Peter smirked. "No one should like your friends. They're a bunch of hormonal half-wits. But that one over there? She's perfect for you." Derek frowned, but Peter kept going. "She's going to find out eventually," he said casually. "They always do. And when she does, she'll run. Or, there's another option..."

Derek turned to him, cautious. "What option?"

Peter grinned. "Turn her."

-----☾-----

My stomach twisted. I how love could turn into something twisted, how fear of losing someone could make people do desperate things.

Peter stretched, sighing. "Now, of course, Derek was hesitant at first. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense."

My hands curled into fists. "But it didn't work."

Peter tilted his head, watching me. "No. No, it didn't."

"She died, didn't she?" I said quietly. I tried to wrack my brain to find the girls face.

Peter nodded.

Stiles looked between them, then back at Peter. "So that's it? That's what changed him?"

Peter's smirk returned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Taking an innocent life takes something from you. A bit of your soul. It changes your eyes. Dimming the once brilliant golden yellow to a cold, steel blue."

I swallowed hard. I thought of Derek, of everything he'd lost. And now Boyd was gone too. "They used him," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

Peter glanced at her. "That's what leaders do, Cassie. They use people. You'd better get used to it."

She held his gaze. "Scott's not like that."

Peter smirked, but there was something calculating behind his eyes. "No, he's not." He stepped closer. "Which is exactly why Deucalion wants both of you."

Cassie felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

"You're not just a Guardian, believe me. They knew your mother. Decalian and her had many arguments about her powers and little baby you." Peter murmured. "But that prophecy. It sets you and Scott up to be intertwined. You're Scott's balance. If he's going to be a True Alpha, he needs you. And the Alpha Pack? They can't let that happen."

I exhaled sharply, my hands shaking slightly. I realized something at Peter's words. I wasn't just a piece on the board. I was a prize.