Scott went over to Stiles, laying a hand on his best friend's shoulder. It was an attempt at comfort, but it wasn't enough to erase the mistake we had made. 

Derek moves, too. He helps to Kira stand, allowing her to lean on him as she sways. Their movement catches my eye, and my attention falls to their feet as broken shards of glass glint in the moonlight. The illumination peeks through the gap of the stairwell, reminding me of the offer I had made to Satomi for her pack, and how I wasn't acting on it. 

I go over to their position, beginning to pick out mushrooms from the pieces of glass from the jar Scott had broken.

"I - I have to get the reishi to Lookout Point," I force myself to speak. 

"Why?" Scott asks, obviously not wanting anyone else to leave. 

"Satomi's pack, they're still out there," Derek responds for me. 

I shove a handful of the mushrooms into my jacket pocket. As I stand, my eyes land on a distressed Stiles who continues to stare blankly ahead. I wanted to stay, to be here to take care of him and the others, but I couldn't.

"Go," Derek says, sensing my desire to stay. "I'll take care of them." 

I give him a grateful nod before bolting up the stairs. I don't look back and focus on the path ahead to reach my bike. My pace only slows when I hear another person's breathing closing in.

I turn around, finding Liam hot on my trail. 

"No-"

He doesn't bother to listen to the rest of my argument, passing me to my bike. He grabs my helmet, holding it out to me with a defiant expression. 

"You're not going without me," he commands. 

With a sigh, I take my helmet from him and accept defeat on the matter. 

Liam slides into place behind me after I straddle my seat. His hands grab my waist tightly, and he presses himself into my back firmly. Packing him was quickly becoming an easy routine, and it only take a few seconds for us to get on the road. I maneuver through the limited cars that are on the streets, not sparing any time in minor traffic. People honk angrily as I cut them off, which only fuels my desire to go faster.

When we get to the entrance to the preserve, I shut off my motorcycle as it wasn't meant for the rough terrain. We move on foot to the path that leads into the woods, finding it blocked by a heavy chain that urges people to turn away. Liam and I sprint past it, ignoring the sign that has "No Entry After Dark" written in bold letters. 

We reach Lookout Point soon enough, both of us panting heavily from the uphill climb. 

It's difficult to see with the scarce amount of light, the moon providing minimal visibility. Through the extensive shadows, I make out clumps of werewolves that are spread out on the edge of the cliff. Only a few of them were on their feet, while the rest lay on the ground, infected.

Deaton is there with them. He cautions the wolves to stay calm as Liam and I advance on their position, and leaves those he was previously helping. His dark eyes are trained on me as he comes closer, a combination of hope and expectancy within them.

"Did you get it?" he asks in a low voice. I reach into my pocket and pull out the reishi, proudly displaying it to him in my palm. He grins as he carefully picks out a few pieces. 

"They need to ingest it. They've been exposed to the poison for too long," he says before parting from Liam and I. He rushes to distribute the mushroom, going to those who were already coated with black goo.

I scan our immediate area, searching for who to help. I stop when I find a pair of wolves on the ground beside a fallen tree. There's enough light that slips through the foliage of the trees for me to recognize Brett's face in the dark. He has a girl in his lap. She's probably only a few years younger than him, but because of his large stature, she looks like a frail child rather than a teenager. 

Brett's condition appears fine. It's the girl he clutches to his chest who's truly in danger. Her body is soaked with sweat and black goo, and it trembles with every passing second. 

"No," Liam mutters. "That's his sister." 

His voice is laced with sympathy as he recognizes the girl in Brett's arms. He and I immediately go over to Brett, kneeling in front of him and his sister. His hands are shaking and his eyes are glazed over. He's beyond troubled, which is why he doesn't notice us coming until we're directly in front of him. 

He jumps slightly, looking between Liam and I with confusion. 

"She needs to ingest it," I repeat what Deaton had said. 

Brett's eyes drop to the chunk of reishi in my fingers, and nods with approval. He brushes the damp stands of dirty blonde hair away from his sister's face, trying to get her to be alert enough to swallow. 

I move to press the reishi to her lips in hopes it would help, but an enraged voice stops me.

"Don't touch her!"

A man with long, raggedy hair and an unkempt graying beard stomps over. His fists are clenched at his sides, both smeared with black liquid. He wasn't infected, but that didn't mean he was lucky. He had to watch his pack mates die in, and for that reason, I remain calm as he lashes out. 

"I'm just trying to help her," I argue lightly, defending myself. 

The man doesn't back down. He glowers at me, his eyes filled with hatred. 

"I know a hunter when I see one," he sneers, and I do my best not to flinch at his words.

Those who weren't immobilized by the infection turned to see what the commotion was about. When they hear what I am, frightened gasps fill the air. I can't blame them, especially not when half of their pack has already been wiped out by assassins, but that doesn't ease the stinging in my chest at their reactions.

Deaton comes over, his hands held out to urge restraint. 

"Richard, if you trust me you can trust her."

The man scoffs wryly at him. 

"Only a fool would trust a murderer," he snaps. His eyes return to mine a second later, glowing gold. I stiffen, taking his actions as a threat, but falter when I'm not the only one. 

A low growl comes from over my shoulder, Liam leering at the man. 

"Back off," he demands through clenched teeth.

The man doesn't, and Liam makes a move to stand and face him. I reach for him, but Brett is the one that catches him before I do. He grabs at the sleeve of Liam's jacket with one hand, while the other continues to cradle his sister. He keeps Liam at ground level while he glares at his fellow pack member. 

"I don't care that she's a hunter, she saved my life," he says. 

His attention drifts to the other wolves who watch us, the edge in his voice unyielding. 

"Anyone who has a problem with them, has a problem with me," he declares loudly, tilting his head toward Liam and I. 

His words make the others cower away. Richard isn't as meek, but he doesn't linger to cause any more problems. It's only when he's quite a ways away does Brett let go of Liam, aware of how easy it was for his temper to get the better of him. 

I observe the two wolves as they stare at each other as if they're both surprised by what Brett's done. 

"Thanks," Liam murmurs slowly, still apprehensive. 

"I think we both know I owe you more than that," Brett replies honestly.  

Liam glances toward me, seeming almost embarrassed by Brett's claims. I could only assume this had something to do with their history together, a history that was entirely lost on me. I don't question it, as this certainly isn't the time. 

Brett refocuses on his sister, stroking the side of her face.

"Lori," he coaxes her gently. 

The girl stirs in his arms, moaning softly as she's woken up to pain. 

Brett gestures for me to give her the reishi, and I do. I press it to her chapped lips and wait. She doesn't accept, though, and cringes away to bury her head in Brett's chest. 

"Lori, it's medicine," Brett urges her desperately. His sister groans in refusal, but opens her mouth anyway to bite down on the offered mushroom. She gnaws on it weakly, breaking it down as fast as she can. The three of us watch her tensely, waiting for the outcome. 

I see her swallow, and it only takes a few seconds after that for her to open her eyes, her irises the same shade as Brett's. She smiles as much as she can at her brother. 

"That was disgusting," she mumbles.

Liam and I burst with laughter at her words, as that was the last thing to expect from a young girl who had been on the verge of death. Brett releases a laugh of his own, though, he holds more tears than we do. He lifts his sister into a proper hug and Lori does her best to return it, while Brett beams at Liam and I from over her shoulder.

"Thank you," he says, repeating it over and over again. "Thank you." 

Liam watches the siblings with a soft smile, he and Brett not at odds for a moment in time. They both bask in the glory of saving someone's life and seem almost happy. 

Of course, in a town like this, happiness is always short-lived.

The roar of a throaty engine bursts through the woods. A pair of headlights illuminate the night and shadows of branches stretch across our wide eyes. The speed of the vehicle's approach makes it clear that whoever is behind the wheel is not a friendly presence.

"Everyone take cover!" Deaton commands hurriedly. 

Satomi's pack obeys him and scatters. Those who are able-bodied help those that are still affected by the poison. I follow their lead and grab Liam, pulling him with me behind a wide-trunked tree. Brett carries Lori, coming to crouch behind a pile of large rocks beside it. 

The threatening vehicle nears us, revealing a pristine condition pickup truck. 

It slows to a stop at the lookout's clearing. The driver doesn't turn off their headlights and instead allows them to light up the trees for proper visibility. I push Liam further behind me because of it, not wanting him to be spotted peeking out from behind the bark. Car doors slam, signaling more than one person that was now out in the open. 

"How many?" I whisper to the wolves in my company. 

"Three heartbeats," Brett replies, then inhales deeply. "I smell gunpowder." He clutches Lori to his chest tighter when she whines at that. 

"We know you're out here!" a loud male voice breaks the silence. It's followed by a short burst of what sounds like automatic gunfire. Bullets tear into the trees as they shoot blindly. I refuse to flinch at that and instead reach for Liam's hand. I squeeze it once before letting go, an unspoken way of telling him to remain calm. 

I inch my head around the edge of the trunk when the firing settles, and use my peripheral to help spot the shooters. 

Two men and one woman. 

At first, I thought maybe it could've been the Calaveras, but I had been paying attention on our way here. We weren't followed. I didn't recognize any of them either, and I doubted they were hunters from their casual clothes. No hunter in their right mind would go after a pack wearing khakis. Whoever these people were, they had to of known where to go. 

I squint to get a closer look at their weapons, and my heart all but stops when I do. Their firearms have extended magazines and obvious scuff marks near the trigger and barrel. This wasn't the first time today I had seen such a thing.

"Modified pistols," I breathe out, unable to hide the remorse in my voice.

You shouldn't have overlooked it, Kate's smug voice echoes in my head, a brutal reminder.

I pull myself back from the edge of the tree, hitting my head roughly against the dense bark as regret courses through me, along with anger. It's directed at myself, the shooters, and the damn voice in my head that wasn't wrong. 

"Your Alpha's gonna pay for what she did to one of ours!" the man shouts again, confirming what I already knew.

The woman at the hospital wasn't working alone.

The modifications made to her gun were too well thought out for her to be a random civilian who happened to find the Dead Pool and was in desperate need of cash. No, it had to have been planned, and clearly, it was a group effort.

She must've been in charge of scouting while the others held back. It was her responsibility to draw out a member of Satomi's pack so the rest of the team could locate them. That's why she did all that shooting at the entrance of the preserve and even shot Braeden. It was bait, and they were waiting for the right moment to strike.

The outbreak was the perfect opportunity for them.

Satomi reaching out to Deaton and working with him at the hospital drew attention. They followed her and waited for someone to lead them to the rest of her pack, which Deaton did the moment he left the hospital. Their strategy was all too familiar, as I had used it on serval hunts before. 

The man whistles obnoxiously, calling a runaway dog. 

"Come out here!" he bellows. 

"What if we run?" Brett asks in a hushed voice. 

"You guys can barely stand," Liam whispers back. 

I peer out from behind the tree again, noting how close the trio was getting. They were only a couple of feet away from Deaton and some other wolves who were squashed together behind a fallen tree. The vet's eyes find mine, and I can see the sheer panic within them. I had rarely ever seen such a look from him, that reaction only arising in moments when one or all of us were close to death.

I needed to do something. Brett and his pack aren't fighters. They lived in the woods for a reason and it wasn't for the fresh air. It was to hide. They couldn't save us from this. I needed to move, to do anything but remain stagnant, but I can't.

Malia walking out on us tonight was terrible, but her silence was a godsend compared to what could happen now. The thought of losing Scott and the others shook me to my core because they were all I had left, and that fear kept me frozen in place; the fear of losing my friends.

My mind worked overtime to conjure up images of them all dead in an ocean of blood that I drowned in. I used to be able to separate myself from those emotions, it was what Gerard and Kate beat into me as a child after all. I could look at a situation clinically and be able to know what was necessary even if it ate away at me.

I didn't want to be like that anymore, but at the same time, feelings got in the way.

I should be analyzing the assassins, figuring out how to take them down, but instead, I'm thinking about Malia and whether or not she'll forgive us. About how Stiles is going to cope with what we did to her. About Liam, and how desperately I don't want him to get hurt. About everything and everyone, and it was starting to suffocate me.

That ocean of blood was pulling me down deeper and I couldn't reach the surface.

Figure it out, a familiar raspy voice commands in the back of my mind.

I close my eyes and take steadying breaths. I picture myself submerged in that ocean of blood, sinking further from my friends. I needed to be with them, to save them, but to do that, I had to endure.

When I reopen my eyes, the voice in my head is all that's left.

Kate stares back at me, the ghost of her memory helping everything fade away: Liam and Brett's anxious breaths, Lori's whimpers, the fear. It all fades, until it's just us and the assassins. She crouches at my side, both of us remaining hidden as we stalk our prey like old times. She narrows her eyes at the shooters, then turns with an expectant expression.

"Pick them off one by one?" I ask, getting into the thick of it. 

Kate shakes her head, pointing between the three shooters.

"Their formation is too tight, you'd have to separate them and that's time you don't have."

I couldn't use my own gun either. My shooting would alert the three of them to my location and that put Liam, Brett, and Lori at risk. One stray bullet and it was all over for them.

"Have the wolves be a distraction?" I suggest. The idea brings a deep frown to Kate's face, and her reaction fills me with shame.

"Too many moving parts you can't control," she counters tiredly, annoyed at another failure. Her tone lacks any semblance of patience, making my frustrations grow. 

"I don't know," I hiss at her. 

She reaches up in response, clutching my face tightly so I can't look away. Her grip is rough and firm; familiar. It almost feels real with the way my stomach twists at her touch as it had done a hundred times before. 

"Yes, you do," she spats out. "Think like the soldier I trained you to be." 

Her hold lightens only so she can force me to turn to the assassins.

"They're relying on the guns to do the work. What'd I teach you?" she asks gruffly. 

"Someone who relies on anything other than themselves is already dead." Guns were tools. They were useful, but only because we knew how to use them. Anyone could wield a dagger and pull a trigger, so it was a hunter's responsibility to be able to be a weapon themselves. I may have grown to be overly reliant on a bullet, but I could still hold my own without one. 

Kate nods, satisfied. She releases me as a reward. 

"Find their weakness and exploit it." 

She motions to the bald man, ordering me to take note of him. His stance is decent, but his movements are delayed and lack assertiveness. He peeks behind him over and over again even though he has two people on his side he should be able to depend on to cover him.

"He's scared," I acknowledge. Kate hums triumphantly as I've settled on who I would have to incapacitate first.

Fear is unpredictable. Someone in the middle of a fight who couldn't rationalize was a wild card. They had one foot in a grave they were destined to land in when they let that fear get in the way.

"What about him? He's big." Kate gestures to the bearded man. He was over two feet taller than me and had muscle on him. I had taken on bigger men than him before, though, and his size didn't deter my confidence.

"But I'm faster," I reply instantly. 

"Damn right," Kate chuckles proudly, and I hate that I'm comforted by the sound.  

The woman was the last problem, but one look at her, and I could see she would be the easiest to take down. Her elbows were locked, a rooky mistake. One shot from her gun and it would recoil into the center of her face. I could've sworn I even saw her aim at the bald man's head more than once, too. She was a total amateur.

"Best for last," Kate vocalizes my decision, and I move to smirk at her but she's already gone.

Time to go for a hunt, her voice reminds me before it dissipates. Those words pull me back as reality returns and I face what has to happen; what's required of me. 

I am no longer drowning, and I am no longer fearful.

I am a hunter, and I have a job to do.

~

||| A/N|||

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