The bell above the door chimed, a cheerful counterpoint to the grimace on Derek Hale's face. He'd finally managed to snag a decent cup of coffee in this town, a small victory amidst a landscape of increasingly irritating complications. He took a final swallow, the bitter liquid a comforting warmth against the autumn chill clinging to his skin, and turned to leave.
That's when it happened.
A collision. Soft fabric, a gasp, and the scalding splash of coffee against his chest. Derek cursed under his breath, the sudden heat momentarily blinding him. He stepped back, instinctively putting space between himself and the culprit.
"Oh my god, I am so, so sorry!" A woman's voice, laced with genuine remorse, cut through his annoyance. He blinked, and his vision cleared to reveal her. She was a whirlwind of apologies and frantic dabbing with a handful of napkins. Her hair, the color of rich mahogany, was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame a face flushed with embarrassment. He registered intelligent, hazel eyes.
"It's fine," Derek grumbled, more out of habit than actual forgiveness. He assessed the damage. A dark stain bloomed on his favorite leather jacket. Great.
"No, it's absolutely not fine. I wasn't paying attention. I was… completely lost in thought, trying to come up with a decent test question for my English class." She sighed, abandoning the hopeless napkin assault and looking up at him with a sheepish smile. "I'm Jennifer. Jennifer Blake."
He wouldn't normally engage. He didn't do pleasantries, especially with strangers. But something in her eyes, a disarming blend of vulnerability and quick wit, stayed his tongue. "Derek," he replied, the single word a reluctant offering. "Derek Hale."
"Look, I completely ruined your coffee, and your jacket is probably going to smell like burnt sugar for days. Let me buy you another one. My treat. Consider it atonement for my academic-induced clumsiness."
Derek hesitated. He had things to do, places to be, shadows to chase. But there was something undeniably… intriguing about Jennifer Blake.
He allowed a ghost of a smile to touch his own lips. "Alright."
He followed her back to the counter, the bell above the door chiming again as another customer entered, the mundane sound strangely amplified in the small space. As Jennifer ordered a replacement coffee for him, her voice a low murmur with the barista, Derek found himself watching her.
~~~~~
Time skip
Two hands press down on blood-stained gauze. Gently, Melissa McCall places her own hands over those of a frightened patient.
"Keep pressure on it. The Doctor's on her way."
The Patient nods and an Orderly wheels him out of the crowded reception and down the corridor.
"Does anyone know where the hell Dr. Hilyard is?"
The sound of the double doors opening turns her head, but it's just Scott walking in with a plastic-wrapped container.
"Oh, thank God, I'm starving." Melissa grabs the bag out of his hands and hurries around the reception counter to unwrap it. "Sorry, sorry." Rushing back around, she kisses him on the cheek. "Thank you for bringing dinner."
"Everything okay?" Scott asks looking sound.
"Except for half the victims of a ten car-pile up being rerouted to us from downtown and the ER Attending not answering any of his pages? Yeah, I'm okay."
"What does "not answering pages" mean?"
"It means no one can find him. Now we're waiting for the On-Call to get here."
An accident victim clutching her stomach reaches out to Melissa. "Miss? Excuse me? I could really use something for the pain."
"I know and I'm sorry, but giving you something could actually complicate things. We really need to wait for the doctor." Melissa explains. She turns to the Receptionist. "How far out is Dr. Hilyard?"
"Ten minutes."
Doors pushing open, two paramedics pull in another victim, head in a neck brace. Stepping out of the way, Scott takes a seat next to the miserable Accident Victim.
"You know, I think I read online sometimes just a little human contact can help with pain."
The Victim can barely respond with a nod. Glancing about to see no one is watching, Scott places his hand on her forearm. Black veins ripple underneath the skin of Scott's hand.
The Accident Victim draws a quick breath. But then relaxes, all of the tension fading. She looks at him, astonished.
The doors clang open. Arm around Danny, struggling to keep him on his feet, Ethan looks up. "I need help!"
~~~~~~
Squinting against the glow of red brake lights, DR. Hilyard talks to the hospital Receptionist over speaker phone.
"Let Melissa know it may be more than ten minutes. I think there's an accident up ahead."
"Yeah, a ten car pile-up which is why we need you here." The receptionist tells her.
Hilyard tries to cut into another lane and gets a loud horn beep for her efforts.
"Oh come on, I'm a doctor!"
She brakes hard, spinning the wheel back. Strangling the steering wheel in frustration, Dr. Hilyard veers her way through traffic. Out of the haze of headlights, something flutters against the windshield, landing on it.
A moth. Strangely large and right in Hilyard's field of view, the creature doesn't seem to want to move. Hilyard flicks on the wipers and the moth flutters back into the darkness.
Pushing down on the pedal, Hilyard blinks as a moth flutters in front of her eyes.
"What the... How did you get in?"
She waves a hand at the moth, not realizing she's also pulling the steering wheel with her other hand.
A horn blares, headlights blazing across the windshield. Hilyard swerves the car back into her own lane.
A third moth crawls out of one of the vents. Another flitters up from behind the backseat. Hilyard waves at them, trying to keep her eyes on the road.
In mere moments, dozens of moths fill the car, blocking Hilyard's view. They surround her, flying about her head. Blinking furiously, she looks into the rear view mirror and sees a horrifying ashen face, scarred and slashed, features literally ripped apart.
Hilyard screams and the wheel slips from her hands.
~~~~~~~
The loft was unusually quiet, the scent of dust and metal hanging heavy in the air. Bella paced before Lydia. Lydia, perched precariously on the edge of a crate, looked bored. Her perfectly manicured nails tapped a rapid rhythm against the worn wood.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" Lydia asked, her voice laced with skepticism. "I mean, I just feel…nothing."
Bella stopped pacing and fixed Lydia with a steady gaze. "You felt nothing before, Lydia. That's the problem. You black out, follow the pull, and wake up next to a corpse. We need to find a way for you to be aware, to control where you're going and what you're doing."
Lydia rolled her eyes. "Easy for you to say. You've been doing this for…how long? Years?"
"Long enough to know that it takes practice, not sarcasm," Bella retorted, a hint of steel in her voice. "Close your eyes, Lydia. Just for a moment."
Lydia sighed dramatically, but complied. Bella waited, watching her closely. She saw the subtle shift in Lydia's expression, the slight furrowing of her brow.
"Now," Bella instructed, her voice low and even. "Imagine the echo. The…residue. Someone died violently, a supernatural death. The energy lingers. Can you feel it?"
Lydia remained still for a long moment. "No," she said finally, her voice flat. "Just…dust. And Scott's lingering teenage boy smell."
Bella ignored the jibe. "Think about the last time. The motel. That kinda of energy leave a mark, Lydia. A ripple in the universe. What was it like?"
Lydia frowned, concentrating. "Cold. And…loud. But not like sound. More like…static."
"Good," Bella said, a flicker of encouragement in her eyes. "Focus on the static. Let it build. Don't fight it. Just…observe."
Lydia closed her eyes tighter, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the crate. The air in the loft seemed to thicken, the silence pressing in.
"Still nothing," she muttered after a few minutes, a note of frustration creeping into her voice. "Maybe I'm just…broken. A faulty Banshee model."
"Don't say that," Bella snapped, her tone sharper than she intended. She softened her voice. "Everyone experiences it differently, Lydia. You just need to find your way in. Try focusing on your other senses. What do you hear? What do you see behind your closed eyelids?"
Lydia hesitated, then took a deep breath. "Okay," she said. "Okay, I'm trying."
Bella watched patiently, her own senses heightened. She could feel the subtle shift in Lydia's energy, a faint hum that vibrated through the air.
"Just let it come," Bella whispered. "Don't force it. Let the static guide you."
Minutes stretched into an eternity. Lydia's breathing grew shallow, almost ragged. A faint sheen of sweat appeared on her brow.
"Okay," Lydia said, her voice barely a whisper. "Okay, I think…I think I feel something."
"Describe it," Bella urged.
"Like…pulling," Lydia said, her voice strained. "Like something is tugging at me. Not physically, but…internally. Like a compass pointing north."
"Excellent," Bella said, relief washing over her. "That's it, Lydia. That's the pull. Now, focus on where it's pulling you. Don't just let yourself be dragged. Feel the direction. Is it north, south, east, west? Close your eyes and see the landscape you're being drawn to."
Lydia squeezed her eyes shut, her face contorted in concentration. Her body began to sway slightly, as if responding to an unseen force.
"I…trees," she gasped. "I see trees. Dark…the air smells like…wet earth and…gravel."
"Gravel?" Bella repeated, her brow furrowing. "Where?"
Lydia shook her head, her expression confused. "I don't know. Just…cold gravel. And blood."
Bella felt a chill run down her spine. "Hold onto that feeling, Lydia. Don't let it go. Now, try to pinpoint the location. Think of places you know. Places with woods, places with metal. Anywhere that resonates with the feeling."
Lydia's breathing quickened, her body trembling. She started to mutter incoherently, a jumble of words that didn't quite form sentences.
"Lydia," Bella said sharply, "focus! You're losing it. Ground yourself. What did you have for breakfast?"
Lydia blinked, startled by the sudden question. "Um…a croissant. Almond. Why?"
"Good," Bella said. "Focus on the taste. The texture. Bring yourself back to the present. Now, try again. Where are the trees? Where is the metal?"
Lydia closed her eyes again, taking a deep, shuddering breath. The muttering started again, but this time there was a thread of coherence woven through the chaos.
"...an… alley…outside town…near the preserve…" Lydia's eyes snapped open, her face pale and clammy. "It's…stronger now," she whispered. "The static…it's almost deafening."
"We need to go," Bella said, already moving towards the door. "Now."
They drove in silence, the tension thick in the air. Bella navigated the winding roads, her eyes constantly scanning the surroundings. Lydia sat rigidly in the passenger seat, her hands clenched in her lap.
As they approached, the static intensified, washing over Bella in a wave of nausea. She knew they were close.
Following the pull, they navigated the road, the silence broken only by Lydia's ragged breathing.
Finally, they reached an alley. The air here was thick with a coppery smell, the unmistakable scent of blood.
Lying sprawled on the floor amidst a pool of crimson, was the body of a doctor. The Darach had claimed another victim.
Lydia gasped, recoiling in horror. Bella, however, remained composed, her gaze sweeping the room, taking in every detail. She notices the red marks across the flesh of his wrists.
"Healers," Bella murmured, her voice barely audible.
Lydia stared at the body, her face pale and drawn. "I…I felt it," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I felt him die."
Bella placed a hand on Lydia's shoulder, squeezing gently. "You did, Lydia. And you found him. You're learning to control your powers. You're learning to use them to help people."
Lydia looked up at Bella, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination. "What now?" she asked.
Bella looked around the room. "Now," she said grimly, "we call it in. Anonymously."
~~~~~
Deputy cars hurtle into the lot while Sheriff Stilinski tries to get statements from Melissa and Scott with Stiles's help.
"Hold on. Were they both in the car?"
"No, Dad, they're trying to tell you it's two different kidnappings. Two doctors. Both gone." Stiles tells him.
"So whose car is this?" Stilinski asks.
"Dr. Hilyard's car. The On Call doctor. The ER Attending is the one that never showed up." Melissa answers.
Pen paused over his notebook, Stilinski peers up to the scene of the accident, the witnesses gathered, the crashed car. He sees his son talking to Scott, but all he hears is his own breathing.
"Dad?"
Stilinski snaps out of it. "Sorry. Melissa, let me just focus on getting your story first. Boys, give us a second."
Scott and Stiles retreat back to whisper in private. Stiles's attention stays on Stilinski, however, noticing his father's troubled demeanor.
"These are definitely sacrifices, right?" Scott asks.
"And it's one Deaton mentioned. Healers."
"But what about Danny? He was throwing up mistletoe. That's not a coincidence. And if he hadn't been with Ethan, he probably would've died. How is Danny a Healer?"
The sound of Stilinski's cell phone ringing interrupts them. Stiles glances to Scott.
"Can you hear?"
Scott nods "They found a body."
~~~~~~
In the same alley where Lydia and Bella were just where., witnesses gather around the body of the ER Attending doctor while Deputies try to keep them back.
On the periphery of the crowd, Deputy Graeme talks to Stilinski on her phone.
"No garrotte this time?" Stilinski asks.
"No. Which means what? Copy cat?" Deputy graeme says.
"Or a change in M.O. But the head and throat are the same?"
"Bashed and slashed."
A crime scene photographer snaps pictures of the ER Attending's wrists, red marks across the flesh.
Argent peers through the crowd. Keeping his distance, he notices Deucalion among the witnesses as well. Aiden guides him about the scene, pausing to whisper in his ear.
Argent's eyes hold on them until they finally disappear from his peripheral vision, leaving him to gaze back at the unsettling sight of the doctor's body before leaving.
Once back at the pack house Argent marks off an area on the map. Astrid and Allison standing infront of him.
"So you where right," Astrid says. "The Darach is using the currents."
"It looks that way." Argent nods. "Now all we have to do is figure out the pattern of placements." He points to seven marks. "The other doctor will appear in one of these areas."
Allison tugs on Astrid's sleeve. Astrid nods. " we'll leave it to you then and go get something to drink."
"Have fun," Argent calls out not even looking up.
~~~~~
A beeping goes off. Derek jumps to his feet in the darkness. Cora rushes to his side, both looking at the alarm.
Derek hits the button, silencing it, and looks about. Nothing seems unusual, until his eyes land on the windows.
"What does it mean?" Cora asks.
Derek sighs. "It means they're not taking no for an answer and they're coming. Tonight. Seems like they haven't learned their lesson."
Painted in black on the window, the Alpha's triskele looms over them.
~~~~~~~
AN: If you noticed I skipped over an episode or two because episode 5 is the fight with the Alpha pack which didn't happen in this story which means enis is still alive. And episode 6 is the events at the motel which did happen but Astrid stay out of it because its an experience that Scott and stiles need so I felt like write it would just be a copy and paste but it's still mentioned in this chapter.