Since our arrival at the clinic, nothing happened. It didn't do much to lift spirits, though. Everyone understood the silence was only temporary. The ending of the Dead Pool was drawing near. The only thing we didn't know was whether or not it would end because we could stop it, or because all of the names would be crossed off. 

While I sat in the waiting room, Satomi and her Beta were in the back with Kira. She was getting along great with the Alpha, and that made me happy. Kira still had centuries of her life to go. It was important for her to bond with another person who had lived a fraction of that. 

Footsteps come from the back room, alerting me to Brett's presence. He watches me for a few seconds from the doorway before coming into the main part of the room.

"Mind if I sit?" He gestures to the chair beside me. 

I wave my hand nonchalantly, and he takes the seat. The leather of the old chair groans under his weight as he makes himself comfortable.

" Do you guys need anything?" I ask.

"Inspirational speech?" he quips.

"Sorry, not really my thing," I respond with a tired smile.

I hadn't slept since before I left the hospital. That, combined with my injuries,  made my body desperate for rest. I didn't want to give in to sleep, though. The very act of closing my eyes could lead to dozens of lives being taken. I had to be on guard for the sake of Satomi's pack, and mine.

Brett and I wait in silence for quite some time, and I find that I don't mind it. It's odd, thinking of him as an ally, but I don't resent the idea.

As time passes, movement from the doorway to the back catches my attention. 

Richard and another female Beta pass by. They were probably heading toward the bathroom but stopped when they caught sight of Brett and I. They openly glare at me, Satomi's order only making their hatred display itself in non-verbal ways. I wasn't sure if I preferred that or the direct disrespect.

They continue on their way, but they had been sure to leave their impression on me. 

"They hate me," I mutter to Brett. The statement isn't meant to be full of self-pity, but rather an observational statement.

"Hard to trust a hunter." He shrugs.

"You trust me," I counter after some mental deliberation. Brett's actions as of late weren't of someone who detested the idea of trusting a hunter. 

"With my life," he agrees without hesitation.

I let out an unattractive snort at his words, thinking he was kidding. Trust with an ally wasn't the same as with a friend. Allies are about avoiding mutual destruction, while friends are about real connection. The way Brett responded made it seem like we were on the opposite side of what I thought our last-minute partnership was. 

"You haven't met many hunters, have you?" I ask, only mildly sarcastically.

"Actually I have," he says. "They killed my family." 

The way he says it so casually makes me freeze. 

I had no idea how to reply to that. I wasn't usually on the receiving end of the 'hey, by the way, my family's dead' conversation. I wasn't the one who had to deal with everyone's guilty reactions and brush off their apologies. Being on the reversal was not fun. Not at all. 

"Brett, I'm-"

"Don't apologize, you didn't know," he interrupts me, smirking. He's not offended, but rather amused. My embarrassment was pure entertainment to him, much to my relief. 

"I've met hunters before, Jac," he continues. "I still trust you with my life and the life of my sister. It's not about who we come from, it's about who we are."

Genuinely shocked, I stare at Brett for a moment. I had no idea he was capable of even understanding what emotional intelligence was. 

"I know, I'm so much more than a pretty face," he jokes, making me roll my eyes. It's a fond gesture. 

I had thought we would default back to our silence, but Brett's soon talking again a second later. 

"So, what's the deal with you and Liam?" he asks without shame. 

I glance his way, mildly annoyed when I see the childish grin on his face. 

"I am not doing this with you." I shake my head, hoping he would let the topic go.

"Why not?" he presses. 

"For starters, we're in a building full of werewolves," I snap, pretending that was the issue rather than the fact that I was simply terrified. 

Thinking of telling Liam how I felt was one thing, but openly admitting it to someone was another. It would make it real. That's not to say it wasn't real now, but my chances of backing down would be limited.

Brett leans closer to me, his voice dropping an octave. 

"No offense, Knight, but they don't care about who you have a crush on."

I scowl at him for the use of that particular phrase, but move on to consider his statement. 

He had a point. Satomi had lived for centuries, I doubted she cared to hear about teenage romance. Then, the rest of her pack barely looked my way. None of them would care enough to listen in. Kira might, but her kitsune abilities didn't land in the realm of enhanced hearing.

The words are right on the tip of my tongue, and instead of forcing them back down into the pit of my stomach, I let them go.

"Fine. I like him. A lot." The admission feels terrifying, yet thrilling.

"And you haven't told him," Brett acknowledges my reluctance. 

I offer a soft nod in exchange, remembering how last night I had begun to debate doing such a thing, but assassins interrupted my ideas. 

"I don't know how to. I'm a coward," I mumble dejectedly.

If I were to admit to Liam how I felt, and by some miracle, he was just insane enough to feel the same, what kind of life could I give him? It would be like anchoring him to a sinking ship.

He should be with someone who could tell him how they felt about him without having to use the rush of a near-death experience to do it. Someone who wasn't constantly on the verge of total and complete meltdown. Someone who truly deserved him.

"I get it," Brett says, making me face him.

"After I lost my family I took it out on a lot of people. Liam was one of them. I didn't realize how much of an ass I was until assassins gave me a taste of my own medicine," he laughs to himself, but there's no actual humor to be found in it.

Being close to death made us think. Every single thing we'd done right, every person we'd loved, every perfect moment and missed opportunity, it all comes rushing in. We see the best moments of our life, but also the worst. 

We're faced with nothing but reality as death closes in.

"It feels safer to keep people at a distance and push them away, but in the long run, it just makes us bitter. I don't want to be a bad person, even if I can't be good," Brett admits. 

The way he sums it up perfectly is almost unsettling. 

When a person faces an immense amount of loss it can change them, and not always for the better. They do whatever it takes to cope and fill the void that tears them apart, even if it means destruction that they pretend to be preservation. Brett and I both allowed our grief to corrupt us and then affect other people. Now, we had a chance to be something more, but the familiarity of the past was often too comfortable.

"Sometimes, I just wonder if people like us deserve the happy endings, you know?" I say, genuinely surprised that I can share that part of myself with Brett.

He nods, not at all judging me. The fact that he doesn't try to comfort me is comforting. 

"You want my advice?" he asks, and I scoff lightly.

"I'm pretty sure you're going to give it to me no matter what I say," I reply, making him smile. 

"Just tell him how you feel. If you wait too long, you're gonna regret it," he says. 

The abrupt rumble of an engine pulling into the clinic steals my attention, and Brett's advice falls to the back of my mind before I have much of a chance to contemplate it. He and I both watch the glass door of the building, now on high alert for whatever may come. 

"Go in the back," I order him.

He doesn't argue and heads to the other room. I stand and approach the door to the clinic, listening in as someone's steps kick the gravel around outside. They don't have the stealth of an assassin, but I don't allow that to bring me relief just yet. A shadow grows on the ground, and soon, Scott reveals himself through the glass. 

He has his keys to the clinic in his hand, but when he sees me he stills. We stare at each other for a few seconds and I have to force myself to move, not wanting to stay like this forever. I open the door for him, shutting it firmly when he finally enters. 

"Thanks," he mutters awkwardly. He looks like he wants to say more, but Kira coming out of the backroom steals his attention.

The two of them share a smile before rushing into one another's arms. They instantly fall into a deep kiss, making me turn away as jealousy stings my chest. Eventually, they pull back, but their arms remain wrapped around each other, making it difficult for me to look at them. 

"Is your mom...?" 

"She's okay. Healing," Kira says, able to finish Scott's question. 

"What about you?" he adds, his eyes scanning her for any visible injuries.

"Me?" she echoes. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Right now? Very," she says, beaming up at him. 

They lean in again, but I clear my throat to stop their lips from meeting. Scott glances my way and his joyful expression slips into one of guilt. He doesn't kiss Kira again, only settles for holding her hand. 

"Did you guys find him? Did you find Brett?" he asks. 

"Actually." Kira moves toward the other room, pulling Scott with her. "We found all of them."

She stops in the doorway, allowing Scott to take in the sight of what's left of Satomi's pack. The Alpha herself turns to face us when she hears our approach. 

"Satomi, this is who I was telling you about," Kira says. 

"I know who Scott McCall is," the Alpha replies, offering a light grin. 

From behind her, Lori speaks. 

"Are we safe here?" the young wolf asks. 

No one responds, as we all already know the truth. There was nowhere we could be that would be a real haven to them. They wouldn't be safe until this was all over. 

Brett lays a delicate hand on his sister's shoulder, taking her attention to save Scott from having to say such a thing. 

Scott turns to Kira and I, ushering us back into the waiting room. 

"We're gonna need help. A lot of help," he says. 

"Where is everyone?" Kira questions him, referring to the lack of backup Scott arrived with.

"Lydia and Stiles can't help us," he says tensely. 

"Are they okay?" I ask, speaking to Scott for the first time in hours. He seems surprised at that, but doesn't dwell on it. He understands my doing this is purely about gauging what our current situation is, not forgiveness. 

"They are now. Brunski tried to kill them last night after they realized he was helping the Benefactor," he explains, and I do my best to not freak out over the sudden information. 

Brunski had always been an untrustworthy figure. His abusive attitude wasn't what an orderly at a mental institution should have. It wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine him killing a couple of nosy teenagers in exchange for millions of dollars.

"Parrish shot and killed him before he could, but Brunski hit Stiles pretty hard so he's at the hospital, and Lydia's at the station with Stilinski," Scott continues. 

The idea of Lydia and Stiles being in danger put me on edge, but knowing they were safe now eased my tension. That freedom in my mind allowed me to fully process Scott's words. 

"You know who the Benefactor is," I breathe out. 

If they had gotten to Brunski, surely they had found the true mastermind. 

Scott nods, though, he doesn't seem celebratory. He finally knew the identity of who had been hunting down his kind for weeks, but still seemed pained. 

"Why don't you look relieved?" Kira voices my thoughts.

Scott hesitates and takes a deep breath. 

"It's Meredith."

Kira and I both gape at him, trying to comprehend his words. My stomach twists and I'm grateful for the fact that I haven't eaten in over a day, because I don't have to risk spilling the contents of my stomach.

"But... she's dead?" Kira replies and Scott shakes his head. 

"Brunski helped fake her death."

The separate pieces fall into place and now we have a better look at the big picture, but that didn't make us feel any better. Meredith was responsible for all the death we've had to deal with when she had been helping us save people only a few months ago.

"Are they sure it's her? She's not being controlled?" I can't help but ask.

"It's her, Jac. She did this," Scott responds, his tone laced with pitiful empathy. Neither of us wanted this to be true, but it was, and it hurt like hell.

I force my eyes away from his, desperate to keep my bubbling emotions subdued.

"Well, until they figure it out, we need to get ready for a fight," I grit out. "We're backed into a corner and they aren't going to wait long to take advantage of that."

"I don't think a clinic is the best place for a battlefield," Kira quips.

I nod along with her words, already picturing the failure that could become. Almost the entire foundation of the clinic was made of mountain ash, so we didn't even have a home-field advantage. We were simply sitting ducks. My best guess was that the assassins were waiting for nightfall to strike, so we had until then to be prepared.

"Go to the old Argent Armory warehouse," I order the two juniors in my company.

"Chris should be there. He can help us, and it's a decent place for a fight," I continue.

I wasn't thrilled about the idea of seeking Chris' help, but he could be instrumental in the survival of Satomi's pack, and that's all that mattered. The warehouse was isolated. We wouldn't risk any crossfire or collateral damage, and it would give us time to get ready. Plus, with all the old cubicles and office furniture, it gave us a decent environment to hide in.

"I'll meet you guys there, I have to grab my gear," I add dismissively. 

The supernaturals in my company had claws and katanas, while all I currently had were the weapons I gathered from the assassins at school. They were necessary in the heat of the moment, but now I needed my own supplies for what was to come.

However, Scott seems reluctant to my last-minute plan. When I move to leave the clinic, he stands in my way. 

"You should sit this one out," he says softly, as if I'll break if he speaks any louder. 

I simply stare at him, hating that he didn't think of me the same as he used to.

There was a time when Scott wouldn't have flinched at me running into the line of fire. He had always trusted that I could take care of myself. That changed after what happened to Allison. His grief over what happened to her, and his guilt over what happened to me all began to mix, and in the middle, he was selfishly comparing us. 

But as strong as Allison was, she had been a hunter for less than a year when she died. I had been a hunter since the day I came into this world, and I would be one long after I left it. This wasn't a fight I stumbled upon on a random night in the woods, it was a fight I was born into. That's something Scott could never understand. 

"You can't treat me like I'm glass all of a sudden, Scott," I tell him. 

He frowns shamefully, averting his eyes from mine. 

"It's not me," I continue. "It's not us." 

When Scott does make any effort to refuse me, I move to pass him again, and this time, he doesn't stop me. 

---

After arriving at the motel, I made quick work of swapping out my old damp clothes for fresh fabrics. I also prepped myself with my weapons and gear, wanting to be ready for anything. 

The other had made it to the warehouse not too long ago, and Kira texted that Chris was more than ready to lend a helping hand against the ex-hunters we faced. Scott even called Derek and Braeden for additional backup, which made me feel better. Braeden being there added to my confidence, but Derek not so much. With his fading power, one stray arrow or bullet is all it would take to end his life. 

We needed all the help we could get, though. 

There was no telling where tonight would lead, and we needed to be prepared. 

I speedily load another dart into the magazine of my long-barreled tranquilizer rifle, already having them filled with a powerful cocktail of sedatives that would knock out its receiver within seconds. It was a better method to face off assassins who had the advantage of military-grade combat gear and seemingly endless numbers. The darts were an efficient deterrent that didn't rely on fatal methods, because Brett was right, even if we couldn't be good, it didn't mean we had to be bad either.

A sudden creak from the outside of my room pulls my attention away from the magazine, the rickety porch outside alerting me to someone's presence. The person outside had to be heading for my room, as I was at the end of the lot. 

I discard my magazine onto the foot of my bed beside my rifle, and slowly creep toward my door. My hand drifts behind me, reaching for the Glock that currently sat in my waist holster. 

"Please, don't shoot me," comes Liam's muffled voice through the door.

I sigh and drop my hand, begrudgingly opening the door. I immediately reach for Liam's upper arm to tug him inside with me, not wanting him to be exposed, even if I didn't particularly want to be around him. I didn't want to feel annoyed by him, but it's not like this was the best time. There was also the matter of the fact that only a few hours ago he had tried to kiss me while under the influence of frequency.

"You have terrible timing," I snipe at him. I check our surroundings outside before closing and locking the door, being sure no potential threats followed Liam here.

"What's going on?" he asks.

I move past him, resuming my efforts of filling the magazine of my tranquilizer rifle. Liam watches me as I refuse to meet his eyes.

"There's a squad of ex-hunters going after Satomi's pack."

"Like Miles?" he says, making me scoff. 

"These guys have body armor and crossbows. Miles was an idiot in over his head playing dress-up."

Liam takes a step closer to me.

"I'll come with you. I can help," he offers. 

I want to force myself to laugh and act bitter to irritate him out of helping me, but deep down I know he'll see right through it, as he always does.

"No, what you're going to do is stay here. You're not ready for a fight like this," I counter. 

Liam had zero training and was still new to his powers. I'd rather put Stiles on the front line considering he had actual experience. That honesty may sound cruel, but it was necessary. Satomi and her pack weren't ready for a fight like this either, but it wasn't like this was an option for them. It was about their survival. They were being forced to take a stand.

"You're angry at me about last night, I get it. What I tried to do-"

"Liam, I can't do this with you right now," I cut him off, desperate for this conversation not to happen because he was completely wrong.

I understand that he came here in hopes of apologizing for what he'd done, and to ask me to forget about his actions last night, but I didn't want that. I didn't want to move on. I wanted him to tell me that on some level the moments between us last night were real. The two of us pressed together in a crowd full of people who we could care less about. His hands drifting across my skin, holding me against him tenderly. The way I wanted his lips to find mine...

"Please, just let me explain," Liam pleads, and the gentle crack in his voice breaks my composure.

He takes my silence as his opening.

"The other night when Kira and I got stuck on the roof of the hospital with a Berserker I thought I could take it," he begins in a low voice.

"I thought I was strong enough to handle myself. I've been in plenty of fights before and I've won most of them. It's easy to win when I get angry."

His expression seems tortured. Talking about his anger wasn't something he did often, as it was rooted in his IED, and he didn't always get the best reactions when it came to that.

"But it wouldn't go down. I got angry, and then I got angrier, but it didn't work. The one thing I'm supposed to be good at didn't work," he continues.

"When it left us, Kira went to bring Scott back, but I stayed up on the roof because I was still angry and I didn't know how not to be. I needed to be in control so I had to find my anchor."

Liam takes a step closer to me, and I don't move away.

"I had to find you."

"Liam," I breathe his name out softly, as if it was an apology.

I could only imagine what it must've been like for him that night. He had just faced off with a behemoth and needed to tether his emotions and gain control. I doubted that finding me bleeding out in a random hallway did much to keep him calm.

"When I did find you, I couldn't be angry anymore. I couldn't be anything but numb. After that, I kept seeing the Berserkers everywhere. It was like they were haunting me because I couldn't save you." 

Liam's odd behavior from the night of the bonfire made sense to me now. The way his eyes wandered around us as if assessing a threat that I couldn't see, because it was purely in his own head.

"I kept seeing them until I saw you. So I had to be close to you, to feel you, to... to do what I'd been wanting to do but didn't get a chance to."

That sensation of fear and thrill finds me once again. Liam's words meant he felt the same. It meant that those moments meant something to him, too. I only hate that they'd been clouded by the fury of assassins. I wish once more that it could only be the two of us in the world, no one else able to get in our way, whether they were an enemy or even a friend.

Liam reaches for me and I don't pull away. I allow his hand to wrap around my arm and lure me into him.

"I know you're upset with me-" 

"I'm not upset because you tried to kiss me," I interrupt him, my heart racing. "I'm upset because I wanted it to be real, and it wasn't." 

Liam stares at me, but I'm unable to meet his burning gaze. 

For him to say how he felt was one thing, and for me, it was another. 

Him sharing his feelings was a form of expression and pent-up emotion. For me, the very act of expression was something that went against every cell in my body. It was like a virus that I had to reject before it completely shattered the structure of my existence. Yet, I did it anyway, because abandoning everything I was taught to believe in and trained to do all for Liam's sake seemed rational. But, that also absolutely terrified me. 

How could it be so easy it was to throw away all I'd known for one person? 

Liam uses his other hand to stroke the line of my jaw. I lean into his touch and wonder if I could stay like this forever, but I know I can't. 

"I have to go," I mutter.

That should have been it, but I don't move away. Liam's hands remain on my body, wanting me to never pull away again. 

"I don't want to leave you," Liam whispers.

"And you never will," I reply, unable to refuse that truth any longer.

I know my words are the right ones because Liam allows his hands to slowly fall away from me. His fingers stroke the length of my arm as he pulls away, and with the hand on my face, he grazes his thumb along my bottom lip for a second.

"Just stay here where I know you'll be safe, okay?" It sounds more like begging rather than an order, but I'm not ashamed. Protecting Liam was more important than pride.

Liam nods, silently agreeing. 

He watches as I gather my rifle, slipping it into a tactical bag that I sling across my chest. I head for the door to my room and step outside, but before I close it, I look to Liam. 

"Come back to me," he commands.

I offer a slight nod in exchange, the action too simple to convey what I really want to tell him, which is that I would always come back to him, as long as he asked. 

Nothing would ever stop me from returning home again.

~

||| A/N |||

vote and/or comment if ya want!

Also, I'd like to say that the conflict between Jac and Scott is setting up their Season 5 arc so please don't be put off by it!!