C.H.⠀013⠀۵⠀The Search for a Cure

❝ When wolves are in packs,
they draw on one another's powers.
They're stronger together. ❞

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STILES LOOKS AT HIS PHONE AGAIN, re-reading the text message Brietta had sent him twenty minutes before.

⠀⠀⠀He tucks the phone back into his pocket and wrestles with the duffel bag in his hand as he inserts his key into the front door of the McCall house. Unlatching it, he steps inside and turns around to close it behind him.

⠀⠀⠀"Scott?" Melissa McCall's voice echoes through the foyer as she enters in her fresh nurse's scrubs.

⠀⠀⠀"Stiles," he corrects, letting out an awkward laugh. He half-expected her to have left for work by now.

⠀⠀⠀Melissa glances down at the key still clutched between his fingers, raising her eyebrows. "Key," she points out with a slow blink.

⠀⠀⠀"Yeah," he smiles, holding the object up proudly, "I had one made."

⠀⠀⠀"That doesn't surprise me," Melissa nods slowly. "It scares me, but it doesn't surprise me."

⠀⠀⠀Stiles drops his duffle bag to the ground beside the door, and it lands with the metallic tinkling of chains rubbing against one another. He grimaces as he looks up at Melissa's suspicious face.

⠀⠀⠀"What is that?" she asks, peering down at the bag.

⠀⠀⠀"Uh, school project," he replies quickly.

⠀⠀⠀"Mm," she hums, unconvinced. "Stiles, he's okay, right?"

⠀⠀⠀"Who, Scott?" he questions stupidly, "Yeah, totally—."

⠀⠀⠀"He just...doesn't talk to me that much anymore," she admits quietly, "At least not like he used to."

⠀⠀⠀"Well, he's, uh...had a bit of a rough week," Stiles tells her, hands tucked into the pockets of his sweatshirt with a casual shrug.

⠀⠀⠀"Yeah, yeah. I get it," she agrees, "Yeah, um. Okay. Uh, y'know, be careful tonight."

⠀⠀⠀"You too," he nods as he watches her pull her car keys out of her purse.

⠀⠀⠀"Full moon," Melissa clarifies, nodding toward the ceiling.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles flinches, "What?" he asks in surprise.

⠀⠀⠀"Uh, there's a full moon tonight," Scott's mom laughs, "You should see how the E.R. gets. Brings out all the nutjobs."

⠀⠀⠀"Oh...right," Stiles sighs in relief, glad that she doesn't know something that she's not supposed to.

⠀⠀⠀"Y'know," Melissa starts, stepping closer as she approaches the front door, "It's actually where they came up with the word 'lunatic'."

⠀⠀⠀Stiles stands frozen in awe as she pats him on the shoulder and heads outside, closing the door behind her. With a shake of his head, he picks the duffel bag back up and races up the stairs, hoping to set things up before Scott gets home.

⠀⠀⠀He pushes open Scott's bedroom door and flicks on the light, his eyes catching on the figure sitting in the chair in the corner of the room.

⠀⠀⠀"Oh my god!" Stiles yells, flinching back in surprise as he looks at where Scott is ominously sitting, "Dude. You scared the hell out of me. Your mom said you weren't home yet."

⠀⠀⠀Stiles walks deeper into the room and drops his bag loudly to the floor again, this time in front of Scott's feet.

⠀⠀⠀"I came in through the window," Scott tells him blankly, unmoving from his armchair in the corner.

⠀⠀⠀"Okay..." Stiles says slowly, watching his friend silently for a few seconds before squatting down in front of him and beginning to unzip the bag, "Uh, well, let's get this set up. I want you to see what Brietta and I bought the other day."

⠀⠀⠀"I'm fine," Scott tells him slowly, "You should go now."

⠀⠀⠀Stiles looks at his friend for a moment, entirely unconvinced, "Alright, I'll leave." He leans back, and his eyes drop down to the contents of his duffel bag again. He reaches into the bag for a moment, fingers drifting over against the copious rungs of smooth metal before tapping his other hand against the fabric on the outside with a sigh, "Well, look, would you at least look in the bag and see what we bought? You know, maybe you use it, maybe you don't. Sound good?"

⠀⠀⠀Scott leans forward in his chair slowly as he stands, his eyes not leaving Stiles until he's taken several slow steps and knelt down directly over the bag.

⠀⠀⠀Scott reaches a hand inside and pulls out a fistful of metal chains, lifting it out and examining it with a blank stare. "You think I'm gonna let you guys put these on and chain me up like a dog?" Scott asks coldly before dropping the chain back into the bag.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles sighs, "Actually, no."

⠀⠀⠀He grabs Scott's left wrist and handcuffs him to the radiator on the wall in one swift move, jumping back out of the way as Scott reaches for him angrily.

"What the hell are you doing!" Scott yells, kneeling on the floor and pulling at the handcuffs.

⠀⠀⠀"I'm protecting you from yourself." Stiles says, looking down at his friend determinedly, "And giving you some payback." He admits, watching as Scott slowly turns to glare up at him, "For making out with Brietta."

⠀⠀⠀Scott seethes in anger, and Stiles smiles in satisfaction before turning to leave the room.

⠀⠀⠀"Stiles!" Scott growls after him, continuing to pull loudly at the metal handcuffs against the radiator.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles goes downstairs and collects a bottle of water from the fridge and an old metal bowl from the cupboard beneath the sink. He carries his haul back upstairs, pouring some of the water into the bowl as he walks.

⠀⠀⠀"I brought you some water," Stiles announces, holding up the plastic bottle in display before making a show of pouring the rest of the contents into the dog water bowl in his other hand.

⠀⠀⠀He places the bowl down on the floor in front of Scott, satisfied by the scowl on his face, and returning his glare before turning to leave the room.

⠀⠀⠀He flinches at the impact of the cold water and lightweight metal against his shoulder when Scott throws the bowl at his retreating back.

⠀⠀⠀"I'm gonna kill you!" Scott screams angrily.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles takes a deep breath, glaring at the wall in the hallway for a few seconds before back-spinning around to face his friend.

⠀⠀⠀"You kissed her, Scott!" Stiles finally yells, his dam of self-control and composure blasting open, "Okay? You kissed Brietta. That's my—. That's like the one girl that I ever—! I thought that we—!" He huffs angrily through his nose before continuing, "And you know? The past three hours I've been thinking, it's probably just the full moon, y'know? He doesn't even know what he's doing, and tomorrow he'll be totally back to normal. He probably won't even remember what a complete dumbass he's been. A son of a bitch. A fucking unbelievable piece of shit friend!"

⠀⠀⠀Stiles takes a much-needed breath after his rant, and Scott lifts his head with a dark look. "She kissed me," Scott tells him with a devilish grin.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles deflates slightly, his stomach filling with a hollow sadness at the words. He swallows and clenches his jaw, gearing himself up to respond when someone else speaks first.

⠀⠀⠀"Excuse me?" A harsh voice cuts in from behind him.

⋅ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ⟡ ⚔ ⟡ ˚｡ ･ ─── ⋅

BRIETTA TAKES A DEEP BREATH BEFORE STEPPING INTO THE RESIDENTIAL HOME, the automatic doors whirring open as they sense her movements.

⠀⠀⠀A warm gust of air envelops her as she strides purposefully towards the front desk, where Mr. Doyle is staring at his computer in confusion. Brietta's eyebrows furrow as she observes him leaning into the computer as if that would change anything.

⠀⠀⠀"Computer problems?" Brietta guesses, pulling her hands out of her jacket pockets to lean on the front desk. Mr. Doyle turns to Brietta and gives her a strained smile. "Camera problems."

⠀⠀⠀"Camera problems?" Brietta frowns, tilting her head.

⠀⠀⠀"Yeah," Mr. Doyle lets out a stressed breath, his eyes flickering towards the computer beside him. "There's some footage missing from the video surveillance." He groans, "It's not your problem." With that, he turns around and heads towards the file cabinet to retrieve the visitors log.

⠀⠀⠀Brietta offers Mr. Doyle a sympathetic smile as he hands her a pen. She quickly scribbles her name onto the log before handing it over to Mr. Doyle, who then hands her a visitor sticker. "I hope everything works out," Brietta hums, placing the sticker on the breast of her jacket and waving to Mr. Doyle as she heads to Peter Hale's room.

⠀⠀⠀She opens the door and finds Peter in the same spot he always occupies. When she had asked his attendant if she puts him in his bed at night, the attendant said that she does, but that Peter prefers a window seat during the day. Brietta finds it peculiar since, well, Peter can't talk, but perhaps the attendant has a magic touch with him.

⠀⠀⠀Brietta glides into the room and gently closes the door behind her. A gasp escapes her as she spots a stool already set up in front of Peter. Out of the six days that Derek has been dead, she's visited Peter four times (excluding today's visit). Out of those four times, she's had to pull out the stool herself. Now, the stool is arranged there.

⠀⠀⠀The attendant must've noticed Brietta visiting frequently, or Mr. Doyle must've informed the attendant.

⠀⠀⠀She moves past Peter and sits down on the stool, a small smile playing on her lips. "Hi, Peter," she greets, but Peter remains motionless in his chair. After four times of speaking to Peter and receiving no response, Brietta has grown accustomed to the one-sided conversation, but she still has her small slip-ups.

⠀⠀⠀"Today's the full moon, if you didn't know," she hums. However, she notices the reflection of the moon in Peter's brown eyes. Peering over her shoulder, she sees that Peter is gazing in the direction where the moon hangs in the sky. Brietta cringes and turns back to Peter. "Guess you already knew that."

⠀⠀⠀After Brietta left Peter the first night she visited him, she went online to see if comatose patients could remember things that had been told to them. Most can't, so Brietta doesn't hesitate to keep talking, "Remember the friend I told you about? Scott? Well, this is his first full moon," Brietta's smile fades slightly, and she fidgets with her fingers, "he's being a total asshole today. Guess it isn't entirely his fault, though."

⠀⠀⠀A blanket of silence covers both of them, and Brietta sighs heavily before continuing, "You were probably born a Werewolf. I mean, Derek was. Did the full moon ever bother you that much?"

⠀⠀⠀Peter doesn't say anything.

⠀⠀⠀"Shit," Brietta winces, inhaling sharply through her gritted teeth, "sorry."

⠀⠀⠀Brietta's eyes flicker to the clock in the corner of Peter's room, and she purses her lips sadly, "Well, I can't say too long like I have been. Scott needs me tonight. Stiles does too."

⠀⠀⠀When Brietta sees that she still has an hour until the full moon, she perks up slightly, "I can tell you about my day, though. Uh, let's see," Brietta scrunches up her face as she recalls her day, "I had a test today. Mr. Harris is the worst for making us do a test after...well, you know."

⠀⠀⠀The second time that Brietta had visited Peter, she told him everything about the night at the school. He doesn't respond, obviously, but Brietta likes to think that he felt bad for her and would've given her good advice if he could talk.

⠀⠀⠀"After that," She continues, "Scott had a panic attack, so Stiles and I helped him. Then Scott pulled me into a room and kissed me. I liked it, but I didn't at the same time," Brietta lets out a small frustrated sound, "That led to me having a panic attack and now we're here."

⠀⠀⠀After a moment, Brietta giggles softly, "I'm not a very good storyteller, am I?"

⠀⠀⠀Brietta pats her thighs and breathes deeply, "I guess I should probably go. I want to stay longer, but, you know...Scott."

⠀⠀⠀With that, Brietta stands up from the stool and adjusts her jacket. As she does, her Yang charm jumps out of her pocket. She freezes as the charm flies in the air and into Peter's direction. Where it should fall to the floor, Brietta watches Peter's hand move an inch to catch it.

⠀⠀⠀Her face erupts into small tingles as the blood rushes from her face. Her eyes flicker from the charm to Peter's face, which remains emotionless. She steps cautiously towards him, prying her charm from his grip as her eyes remain fixed on Peter's face.

⠀⠀⠀"What are you doing in here?" A sharp voice cuts through the air.

⠀⠀⠀Brietta lets out a small squeak and jumps a few feet in the air. Her eyes snap towards the attendant, who is staring at her with narrowed eyes by the door.

⠀⠀⠀"I, uh—." Before Brietta can even finish, the attendant storms over to Brietta and grips her arm tightly, pulling her to the door.

⠀⠀⠀"Wait," She mumbles, peering over her shoulder to look at Peter, "he moved. I swear he did."

⠀⠀⠀The attendant just scoffs, "Comatose patients still have muscle reflexes."

⠀⠀⠀"But—." Brietta cuts herself off as the attendant pushes her out of the room, and she frowns.

⠀⠀⠀"It's late. Go. Home," The attendant fumes and Brietta backs away from the door, nodding slowly. Her eyes scan the room once more before the attendant shuts it in her face.

⠀⠀⠀Brietta staggers back slowly before regaining her footing and walking over to the exit. Comatose patients still have muscle reflexes. How can Brietta be so stupid? It's not possible for Peter to have moved.

⠀⠀⠀As she passes the front desk, Brietta waves at Mr. Doyle, mustering up a smile for him, "Thanks for putting the stool there."

⠀⠀⠀Mr. Doyle's eyebrows twitch down, and he frowns, "That wasn't me. I haven't been in Peter Hale's room in a month."

⠀⠀⠀"Oh," Brietta curtly mutters, her cheeks flushing a pink hue. "Sorry, must've been the attendant." That, however, didn't make much sense given the hostility that the attendant just showed her.

⠀⠀⠀Mr. Doyle appears even more confused now, "Nurse Jennifer doesn't know that you've been visiting Peter."

⠀⠀⠀Brietta pales.

⠀⠀⠀So, who put the stool in front of Peter?

⠀⠀⠀She freezes as the charm flies in the air and into Peter's direction. Where it should fall to the floor, Brietta watches Peter's hand move an inch to catch it.

⠀⠀⠀That isn't possible, Brietta tells herself as a thought crosses her mind.

⠀⠀⠀Comatose patients still have muscle reflexes.

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TWENTY MINUTES PASS, and Brietta arrives at Scott's front door, relieved to find it unlocked as promised by Stiles. The door swings open easily, and she hears Stiles's raised voice upstairs. Climbing the staircase, she discerns his angry words.

⠀⠀⠀"I thought that we—!" Stiles huffs before continuing, "And you know? The past three hours I've been thinking, it's probably just the full moon, y'know? He doesn't even know what he's doing, and tomorrow he'll be totally back to normal. He probably won't even remember what a complete dumbass he's been. A son of a bitch. A fucking unbelievable piece of shit friend!"

⠀⠀⠀Brietta enters the room to find Scott not chained as planned but with one wrist cuffed to a metal heater. Scott lifts his head, his eyes darkening until they land on her. "She kissed me."

⠀⠀⠀"What?" Brietta scoffs in disbelief, her voice harsh as she steps forward to stand beside Stiles.

⠀⠀⠀Scott grins devilishly, "She made the first move, Stiles. You should've seen it." Brietta recalls the attempt to comfort her friend before his unexpected kiss, and frustration turns into anger.

⠀⠀⠀"You're being an asshole, Scott," she scowls, her eyes darkening.

⠀⠀⠀"Oh, yeah? Is that what you're into, then?" Scott quips, turning his attention back to Stiles, "She would've done a lot more too, man. You should've seen the way she had her hands all over me."

⠀⠀⠀Seething with anger, Brietta is guided out of the room by Stiles. In the hallway, Stiles notices her injured hand. "What happened there?" he asks.

⠀⠀⠀She sits on the floor, bringing her knees to her chest. "I punched Scott when he...when he kissed me."

⠀⠀⠀As they sit in silence, the sounds of Scott's angry protests fill the house. Stiles murmurs, "We need to do something about this."

⠀⠀⠀Brietta looks up at him, and as their eyes meet, a flutter in her heart is interrupted by Scott's continued yelling. "Do you think he'll get out?" she asks Stiles.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles hesitates, glancing toward Scott's bedroom. "I don't think so, why?"

⠀⠀⠀A small smile plays on Brietta's lips, and she suggests a plan. "We'll divvy up the work. I'll head to the library, and you'll research online. I'll bet that Scott doesn't want me around."

⠀⠀⠀As Brietta heads to the library, Stiles, curious, asks, "What are you thinking?"

⠀⠀⠀"Maybe," she shrugs, "just maybe, we can find a cure for Scott."

⠀⠀⠀With Brietta gone, Stiles uses his phone to research. After a while, Scott's yelling subsides, replaced by the faint sound of him tugging at the handcuffs. "Guys? Please let me out," Scott's voice pleads.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles listens, conflicted, then turns off his phone. Scott pleads about the full moon, and the desperation in his voice grows. "No, no—," Scott mumbles before screaming in unbearable pain.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles clutches his head, trying to block out the screams. The agony gives way to a low growl, followed by an eerie silence. Stiles rises, approaching the bedroom cautiously. "Scott?" he calls, opening the door to find the room empty. Broken handcuffs lie beside the radiator, a trail of blood leading to the open window.

⠀⠀⠀"Fuck," Stiles curses under his breath.

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BRIETTA SITS IN A DIMLY LIT CORNER TABLE IN THE PUBLIC LIBRARY, surrounded by towering shelves filled with dusty books. The soft hum of whispered conversations and the occasional shuffle of pages create a background symphony. Armed with a notepad, her laptop, and determination etched across her face, she delves into the world of werewolf lore.

⠀⠀⠀Opening her laptop, Brietta begins typing furiously, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. Her first search leads her to ancient manuscripts and myths surrounding werewolves. She scours through pages of folklore, taking notes on lunar cycles, silver vulnerabilities, and potential reversals. Each keystroke is a step closer to finding a possible cure for Scott.

⠀⠀⠀After half an hour of delving into historical websites, Brietta seamlessly transitions to contemporary sources. A rabbit hole of conspiracy theories about werewolves catches her attention, revealing multiple accounts with some having their real identities linked. Her notepad becomes a canvas, adorned with intricately scribbled notes and meticulously cross-referenced details.

⠀⠀⠀When Brietta comes across a conspiracist who works at the hospital, she perks up and reaches for her phone. She types in her message to Stiles, sending him a picture of her messy notes with the name of the conspiracist; Conrad Haberlind. Yet, just as she clicks send, her phone succumbs to a sudden power outage. She gazes at the lifeless screen, a momentary frustration clouding her face, but she quickly composes herself, unfazed by the temporary setback.

⠀⠀⠀She doesn't stress much, though, considering that she had researched as much as she could. Brietta closes her laptop and shoves it into her laptop bag alongside her phone, throwing it over her shoulder as soon as the items are safely tucked away.

⠀⠀⠀As she gathers the stack of library books she had explored, Brietta makes her way toward the book drop-off by a window overlooking the forest, placing the books in the drop-off box. She turns to leave, only to be captivated by a sudden movement outside the window.

⠀⠀⠀There, on the other side of the window, stands Scott. But he looks different, and a chill runs down Brietta's spine as she realizes he's in his werewolf form. Shock and fear nestle in her veins at the fact that he's roaming about when he's supposed to be safely handcuffed to his radiator.

⠀⠀⠀As Brietta takes a step back, her breath catches in her throat. Scott's golden eyes lock onto hers, and she can see a mix of anger and sadness in them. It's as if he's trying to convey something to her. With a mixture of terror and worry, Brietta decides to flee from the library, her mind racing with questions.

⠀⠀⠀She bursts out of the library doors, scanning the area frantically. The moonlight casts an eerie glow on the surroundings as she searches for any sign of Scott. Her footsteps echo through the quiet night as she rounds the corner of the building, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

⠀⠀⠀However, when she reaches the spot where she last saw him, Scott is gone.

⠀⠀⠀"Scott!" She calls out, but there's nothing. The forest is silent, and the only evidence of his presence is the rustling leaves in the wind. Brietta stands there, catching her breath as her eyes dart around.

⠀⠀⠀Then she hears it.

⠀⠀⠀A roar.

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THE MOON HANGS OMINOUSLY IN THE NIGHT SKY, casting an eerie glow over the clearing leading to the library. As Scott follows Brietta's scent, he feels an unfamiliar energy coursing through him, a restless force that demands release. The initial stirrings of the transformation writhe beneath his skin, a painful reminder that the full moon has its hold on him.

⠀⠀⠀His mind becomes a battlefield, a clash between reason and instinct, where the line between hurting and protecting blurs into a murky haze.

⠀⠀⠀The only clear thing at the moment is Brietta.

⠀⠀⠀He lost the battle with a darker part of himself earlier and doesn't want to lose again.

⠀⠀⠀As the library comes into view and her scent grows stronger, Scott feels a magnetic pull toward a large window at the back of the library. The second he walks into view of the window, he sees her, and he calms.

⠀⠀⠀Scott watches Brietta stand up from a table with a stack of books before moving closer to the window where a large box is propped.

⠀⠀⠀Scott scans her surroundings, and his eyes narrow on the clusters of people around her. A protective instinct, deeply rooted in his nature, mingles with the dangerous edge of aggression, and he sees everyone near her as a threat.

⠀⠀⠀His brown eyes shift into a golden hue, and he turns back to her to see her already staring at him. He stands stunned, the line between sorrow for his actions and aggression for his perceived threats blurring.

⠀⠀⠀Brietta staggers away from the window and towards the front entrance across the library. Scott, throwing caution to the wind, darts toward the window, fully intent on jumping through it.

⠀⠀⠀That is, until someone tackles him from his side, pulling him deeper into the woods.

⠀⠀⠀Scott growls under his breath as his attacker pushes him onto the ground, forcing him to roll to catch his footing.

⠀⠀⠀Scott blindly slashes at the air, his claws penetrating air and not flesh.

⠀⠀⠀A second later, he feels hands grip his jacket before tossing him a few yards away. Scott quickly gets to his feet, though, and comes face to face with his attacker.

⠀⠀⠀It's Derek.

⠀⠀⠀Scott, however, doesn't care that Derek is alive. He just sees him as an obstacle between him and the one person he aches for.

⠀⠀⠀Scott lets out a ground-shaking roar and lunges at Derek, determined to subdue the older Werewolf, but Derek effortlessly intercepts him. With a swift motion, Derek seizes Scott and ensnares him in a tight embrace, overpowering his resistance and pinning his arms to his sides.

⠀⠀⠀"Stop!" Derek barks out, but Scott keeps thrashing in his hold, "Scott, stop!"

⠀⠀⠀Scott doesn't. He just keeps thrashing, and his nails extend into claws, allowing himself to dig them into Derek's thigh. Derek lets out a pained growl and shoves Scott away from him and into a tree.

⠀⠀⠀Scott doesn't give up from the fight, his anger reaching a boiling point. Fueled by the intensity of the full moon, he snarls with unrestrained fury. Ignoring his pain from the impact against the tree, Scott charges back, teeth bared and claws gleaming in the moonlight.

⠀⠀⠀Scott charges at Derek, his anger driving him forward with relentless force. However, Derek's werewolf instincts kick in, and with swift agility, he sidesteps Scott's furious onslaught. As Scott stumbles forward, Derek pivots gracefully, turning around to face him. In that moment, Derek taps into the primal power of his werewolf nature, and with a thunderous roar, he unleashes a commanding howl directly into Scott's face.

⠀⠀⠀The sound echoes through the moonlit forest, resonating with an authority that cuts through the chaotic energy. Scott, caught in the shockwave of Derek's roar, feels a sudden shift within himself. The intense anger that fueled his werewolf form begins to dissipate, replaced by a growing sense of clarity.

⠀⠀⠀As the roar reverberates, his werewolf features recede, his claws retract, and the feral intensity in his eyes softens. The raw, unbridled rage is replaced by a dawning realization. Scott, now back in his human form, kneels before Derek, breathing heavily but no longer consumed by the wild impulses that had driven him moments ago.

⠀⠀⠀Scott blinks back into reality as Derek approaches him, shifting from his animalistic to human form. "What's happening to me?" Scott pants sadly, staring at his hands in horror.

⠀⠀⠀Derek frowns, grimly speaking, "Exactly what he wants to happen."

⋅ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ⟡ ⚔ ⟡ ˚｡ ･ ─── ⋅

BRIETTA'S EYES DART AROUND HER SURROUNDINGS AS SHE RACES BACK IN THE DIRECTION OF SCOTT'S HOUSE, an urgency gripping her as she attempts to warn Stiles about Scott's escape. A sense of futility washes over her—how could anyone not notice a teenage werewolf escaping?

⠀⠀⠀In the distance, a blue jeep catches her attention, and she wildly waves her hands to flag down Stiles. A sigh of relief escapes her as the jeep slows, and she swiftly makes her way to the passenger side, hopping into Stiles' car. His wide-eyed expression mirrors her own anxiety.

⠀⠀⠀"Scott's out," Stiles informs her, and Brietta nods, securing her seatbelt with quivering hands. "I know," she replies, "I just saw him."

⠀⠀⠀"What?" Stiles exclaims, causing Brietta to wince at the ringing in her ears.

⠀⠀⠀"I'm fine, and he's fine, I think," Brietta says as Stiles starts the engine and accelerates down the street. "I think he might be at the preserve, though. What better place to go than the spot where you became a werewolf?"

⠀⠀⠀"Okay," Stiles nods, determination in his gaze. "We'll go to the preserve." The car speeds down the winding roads leading to the preserve, Stiles driving faster than deemed safe. Ten minutes later, they approach the familiar lot from the night before.

⠀⠀⠀"Stiles—," Brietta leans forward, pointing towards the edge of the forest.

⠀⠀⠀Red and blue lights flash between the trees, prompting Stiles to sharply turn into the lot. He parks the car, leaving the door ajar as he rushes out. Brietta follows suit, tumbling from the vehicle and standing behind Stiles.

⠀⠀⠀"Dad?" Stiles calls out amid officers, receiving unhelpful shrugs and obliviousness. Ignoring Brietta's attempts at reassurance, he urgently repeats, "Dad!"

⠀⠀⠀She reaches out, attempting to comfort him. The crowd remains unresponsive until a stretcher, draped with a white sheet over an unmistakably lifeless body, passes by. Stiles, horror etched on his face, moves to uncover the face beneath the cloth.

⠀⠀⠀"Stiles," a familiar voice calls out, and both teenagers turn in surprise. "What're you kids doing here?" Sheriff Stilinski asks with a shake of his head.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles embraces his dad, and Brietta, unnoticed by the sheriff, intertwines her fingers with Stiles'. After a long moment, Stiles steps back, and Brietta squeezes his hand as he takes a steadying breath.

⠀⠀⠀"Now, circling back to my initial question," the Sheriff looks between them, "What are you both doing here?"

⠀⠀⠀"Uh—," Stiles fumbles.

⠀⠀⠀"We were listening to the police scanner again," Brietta quickly responds, nodding in mock shame. "Yeah, and Stiles wanted to check to see if you were okay."

⠀⠀⠀The Sheriff, shaking his head, advises Stiles, "Next time, feel free to call me. Now go home. Both of you."

⠀⠀⠀Stiles protests, looking towards the ambulance, but the Sheriff demands, "Now."

⠀⠀⠀They retreat to the Jeep, and she looks at him expectantly.

⠀⠀⠀"Well, what now?" She asks.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles drums his fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating. Breaking the tense silence, she recalls her library visit.

⠀⠀⠀"Did you get my text from earlier?" She questions, and Stiles nods, retrieving his phone. "Yeah, but I never got to read it."

⠀⠀⠀Typing in Stiles' password, she turns to him. "While I was researching, I found a video of this guy, Conrad Haberlind. He was a mythology professor at BHCC until he got fired for unpopular theories."

⠀⠀⠀With increasing excitement, she continues, "He was so embarrassed that he changed his last name to Fenris."

⠀⠀⠀Stiles furrows his brows, thinking, as he stops at a red light. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

⠀⠀⠀She squeaks with excitement, "Because when we looked up werewolf lore, we learned about Fenrir. Fenrir was—."

⠀⠀⠀"A werewolf in Norse mythology. Also known as Fenris," Stiles finishes, reciting what he remembered from their research.

⠀⠀⠀"Exactly!" Brietta grins, perking up, "I found out where he lives and works. Beacon Hills Hospital and 342 Cedarwood Way."

⠀⠀⠀Stiles pauses, "That's creepy," a wide smile breaking out on his face, "but genius. Okay, okay," Stiles nods, clearing his throat, "Alright, what do we do now? Do we go to Fenris' house?"

⠀⠀⠀"No," Brietta shakes her head, clicking off Stiles' phone, "we need Scott in case Fenris lies or to sniff something out. Let's go to Scott's house. He has to come back at some point, right?"

⠀⠀⠀"Right," Stiles nods, steering towards Scott's house.

⠀⠀⠀Brietta hopes they find him unscathed.

⋅ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ⟡ ⚔ ⟡ ˚｡ ･ ─── ⋅

"WHERE IS HE?" Stiles grumbles, fixing the baseball cap on his head to be backward in his anxious movements. Tapping the steering wheel anxiously, he glances around the parking lot outside of Beacon Hills Hospital.

⠀⠀⠀"He'll be here soon," Brietta tells Stiles with conviction, though she glances nervously between the parking lot and her phone in her hand. "We should've gone to his house," Stiles frowns, and Brietta turns around, facing Stiles from outside of the Jeep. "Well, he sounded okay when he called us," she argues, grumbling at the fact that she had talked Stiles out of driving to Scott's house. "It might just be that he's taking a shower," she reasons.

⠀⠀⠀"Or wolfing-out again," Stiles sighs, looking around the parking lot.

⠀⠀⠀As soon as the words escape Stiles, his Jeep shakes as something jumps onto the roof. Brietta, seeing Scott jump onto the Jeep out of nowhere, jumps a few feet into the air with a sharp shriek.

⠀⠀⠀"Holy—!" Brietta yells out while Scott peeks his head through Stiles' window upside down, revealing himself to his second-best friend.

⠀⠀⠀"What'd you guys find out?" Scott grins at Brietta and Stiles, looking better than ever.

⠀⠀⠀"I'll tell you when I finish having my heart attack," Stiles grits out, holding his chest.

⠀⠀⠀Brietta clicks the screen of her phone and loads the video she and Stiles watched earlier as she rounds the Jeep to lean against the hood. Stiles and Scott join her on either side as a recording of Conrad Haberlind in a university classroom plays.

⠀⠀⠀"The term lycanthrope is derived from the Greek myth of Lycaon, the king of Arcadia. Renowned for his cruelty, he was later transformed into a wolf by Zeus," Scott's eyebrows jump up at the word 'wolf,' and Stiles and Brietta send him sharp looks to keep listening.

⠀⠀⠀"He was turned into a monster as punishment for his monstrous actions," Haberlind pauses as he lets his classroom filled with students digest the information before continuing with a thoughtful look, "But lycanthrope, as we all know, is just another name for Werewolf."

⠀⠀⠀The three teenagers exchange looks of excitement as Haberlind adds on, "The half-man half-wolf legend, which appears in dozens of different cultures from the vilkacis of Lithuania to the volkolak of Russia to the more commonly known Rougarou or Beast of Gévaudan of France."

⠀⠀⠀As Brietta has already seen this video twice before, it hasn't yet dimmed her curiosity about the Beast of Gévaudan or Allison's perceived connection to it.

⠀⠀⠀Brietta piles those thoughts into a place deep within her mind and focuses back on Haberlind's authoritative voice, "Now, contrary to some belief, the Werewolf's abilities are not beholden to the full moon. Rather they can be called upon at will," Scott's ears perk up at that, and he leans closer to Brietta, intent on hearing more, "Now those abilities are ranging from incredible speed to remarkable agility—able to move in the bipedal run while equally adept as a Homo habilis."

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind pauses to assess the room, and he must see something other than expected because he continues, "Yes, I'm aware of lycanthropy. The psychological disorder in which a person mistakenly believes himself to be a wild animal. I'm not here to discuss that. I'm not talking about the disorder of the mind. I'm talking about Werewolves. The actual and proven existence of Werewolves."

⠀⠀⠀The second Haberlind finishes, the classroom bursts into laughter with several voices calling him insane and that he needs to be admitted into Eichen House.

⠀⠀⠀Brietta frowns at how Haberlind was treated. He was right, after all. Werewolves do exist.

⠀⠀⠀She clicks off her phone as Stiles inhales deeply, turning to his friends, "This is the guy," He motions to Brietta's phone, "This is your cure."

⠀⠀⠀"So, who is he?" Scott questions, and Stiles grins, "Well, his real name is Conrad Haberlind."

⠀⠀⠀Scott appears even more confused, "What do you mean his real name?"

⠀⠀⠀"He got it legally changed," Brietta interjects, putting away her phone, "and he changed it to Dr. Conrad Fenris."

⠀⠀⠀Hearing the excitement in Brietta's voice, Scott feigns excitement and widens his eyes, "Are you serious?"

⠀⠀⠀Stiles, however, sees through Scott's facade, "You have no idea what that means, do you?"

⠀⠀⠀Scott sends Brietta a sheepish expression and looks down, "No."

⠀⠀⠀Brietta throws her hands up in exasperation as Stiles clicks his tongue, "Alright, well, Fenris was the son of Loki in Norse mythology, okay? Here," Stiles brings out his own phone to show Scott a drawing of Fenris, who looks similar to the Alpha.

⠀⠀⠀However, in the background, there's a village with a man on a horse, which is where Scott puts his attention. "Is he the guy on the horse?" Scott asks innocently, smiling at the small man in the drawing.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles' eyes twitch in disbelief, "He's the wolf, dumbass."

⠀⠀⠀Scott gives Stiles a blank look, and Stiles gapes slightly, "Wh—. Look, he's supposed to be the influence for the story Little Red Riding Hood."

⠀⠀⠀Scott frowns, "So, why'd this guy change his name?"

⠀⠀⠀Brietta turns to Scott with crossed arms and an incredulous look, "You saw the video, Scott. Everyone laughed at him and thought he was crazy."

⠀⠀⠀"So..." Scott shrugs, "why would he change his name to a giant wolf?"

⠀⠀⠀Stiles purses his lips, "Probably because he still believes."

⠀⠀⠀"Okay," Scott nods, taking in all the answers that his friends provide him with and the possibility of getting to be fully human again, "so, what makes you two so sure that he's got a cure?"

⠀⠀⠀Stiles and Brietta both freeze, stunned by the question. They share a look, and Stiles winces slightly before turning to Scott, "Well, we're not, uh, bu—but we've watched, like, all this guy's videos, okay? He knows everything that there is to know about Werewolves, and I mean everything," Stiles exits out of the photo of Lycaon, and switches to a saved clip of one of Haberlind's lectures, "Just listen."

⠀⠀⠀Stiles clicks play and the video soon starts playing, "Myths like these propagate across all cultures. The idea that you could wear an animal's skin and take on the attributes of that animal. Warriors known as Berserkers would drape themselves in the pelts of bears and were seen to fight in uncontrollable—almost trance-like fury."

⠀⠀⠀Brietta's eyebrows quirk up. She hasn't seen that video yet. She steps closer to Scott and Stiles, leaning in between both of them to see the video.

⠀⠀⠀"That's where we derive the term, berserk," Haberlind informs and raises his marker in thought, "Now, were these bear-zerkers convincing themselves of this animal fury, or was it actually happening?"

⠀⠀⠀Stiles points to his phone in victory, "This is the closest thing we got to a certified expert."

⠀⠀⠀"Except Derek," Scott interjects, reminding Stiles and Brietta that Derek was, in fact, not as dead as they thought he was.

⠀⠀⠀"There you go," Stiles rolls his eyes and gives Scott a pained look, "just mentioning his name again. Okay, do you enjoy hurting me?"

⠀⠀⠀"Okay," Scott butts in, stopping Stiles' incoming rant, "How are we gonna find this guy?"

⠀⠀⠀"You underestimate my stalking skills," Brietta pouts before pointing to the back door of the hospital, where Haberlind walks out with a briefcase.

⠀⠀⠀As Haberlind walks into the parking lot, the trio watches him with sharp eyes. The second Haberlind passes by them, they feign busy looks until Stiles signals Brietta and Scott, pulling them along with him as he follows Haberlind.

⠀⠀⠀The trio keeps a slow pace, making sure to stay a safe distance behind Haberlind. However, Stiles grinds his shoes against the pavement a bit too hard, and Haberlind turns around at the noise, eyeing the trio suspiciously.

⠀⠀⠀Brietta looks away from Haberlind to examine Stiles and Scott. Stiles still has his baseball cap on backward, and his hands are now in his pockets, while Scott walks with his chest puffed out and hands fisted.

⠀⠀⠀"We look suspicious," Brietta whispers to Scott and Stiles as soon as Haberlind looks forward again. Scott nods along with Brietta and leans in to whisper, "I think he saw us."

⠀⠀⠀"So, what?" Stiles whispers back, keeping his eyes on Haberlind, who peers over his shoulder once again for a quick second.

⠀⠀⠀"I think he thinks we're following him," Scott informs Stiles, who shakes his head. "No, he...doesn't."

⠀⠀⠀"So, what?" Stiles whispers back, keeping his eyes on Haberlind, who peers over his shoulder once again for a quick second.

⠀⠀⠀"I think he thinks we're following him," Scott informs Stiles. The latter simply shakes his head, never looking away from Haberlind, "No, he...doesn't."

⠀⠀⠀Brietta notices a change in Haberlind's pace and cringes slightly, "He's walking faster, Stiles."

⠀⠀⠀"No, he's not," Stiles tells her with conviction, but the trio puts extra speed into their steps to keep up with Haberlind, which Scott points out, "Okay, we're definitely walking faster."

⠀⠀⠀Stiles frowns, "Well, that's 'cause he's walking faster."

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind peers over his shoulder, almost tripping over his own feet at his fast pace.

⠀⠀⠀"He probably thinks we're gonna mug him," Scott points out, watching Haberlind watch them with panicked eyes.

⠀⠀⠀"We're not gonna mug him," Stiles corrects, shrugging, "we're just gonna talk to him."

⠀⠀⠀"Well, he doesn't seem to know that, Stiles," Brietta whispers with a high-pitched voice, and Stiles stops walking to spin around. "If he thought we were gonna mug him, he'd be—." Stiles trails off as the trio all turn to Haberlind, who's running for his car, "running."

⠀⠀⠀Stiles groans before turning to Scott, "Get him."

⠀⠀⠀Brietta tries to stammer out how bad of an idea she thinks this is, but Stiles and Scott are already booking it across the parking lot and tackle Haberlind as if they were star football players.

⠀⠀⠀She winces and speed walks toward her best friends as Haberlind trembles in fear. Haberlind tosses his keys to Scott, who fumbles to catch them, "Take it!" Haberlind then fumbles into his pocket and throws his wallet at Stiles, who winces when it hits his face, "Take the wallet. Take everything! Just don't hurt me!"

⠀⠀⠀Stiles holds out his hands, displaying surrender, "No, no, no. It's okay. It's okay. We're not gonna hurt you," Stiles cringes as Haberlind examines the gash on his hand from landing on the pavement, "Again."

⠀⠀⠀"We're sorry," Scott apologizes as Haberlind winces, "we just—we just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes."

⠀⠀⠀"About what?" Haberlind yells at Scott and Stiles, his eyes wide and crazed.

⠀⠀⠀Scott and Stiles hesitate, unsure of how to broach the situation. Brietta inhales deeply and pushes past Scott and Stiles to hold out a hand to Haberlind, "We heard that you were a mythology professor at the community college."

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind pales, but allows Brietta to help him stand. As Haberlind rights himself and takes his wallet and keys from Scott and Stiles, Brietta softens her voice, "My friends and I are just interested in your research about Werewolves."

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind eyes Scott and Stiles with disdain and Brietta clicks her tongue, "Violently interested."

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind turns back to Brietta and narrows his eyes, "No comment."

⠀⠀⠀The trio gape at Haberlind as he opens the trunk of his car to throw in his briefcase and jacket. "Just a few questions. Please?" Scott tries to plead, but Haberlind shows no resolve. "Sorry, but no. I don't talk about that anymore."

⠀⠀⠀Scott shakes his head, pushing harder, "Please, this won't take long at all. Just a few questions."

⠀⠀⠀"I said no," Haberlind grits out, turning away from the teenagers and heading inside his car. The engine growls to life, and they all watch as Haberlind drives out of the parking lot.

⠀⠀⠀"What now?" Scott frowns, glancing between Brietta and Stiles.

⠀⠀⠀"Plan B," Stiles sighs, staring in the direction that Haberlind had gone off in.

⠀⠀⠀Scott and Brietta share a look, knowing that most of Stiles' plans have bad consequences. "Are we going to regret Plan B?" Brietta asks, and Stiles shrugs, a small smile on his lips, "Only if we get caught."

⋅ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ⟡ ⚔ ⟡ ˚｡ ･ ─── ⋅

STILES, SCOTT, AND BRIETTA ALL WATCH HABERLIND'S DOOR INTENTLY, patiently waiting for him to leave so that they can sneak in.

⠀⠀⠀It only takes thirty minutes of waiting, but Haberlind finally leaves his house and drives away.

⠀⠀⠀The trio scramble out of the Jeep and round the house to enter from the back. Stiles pushes open the back gate, leading Scott and Brietta through Haberlind's backyard.

⠀⠀⠀"This is a bad idea," Scott murmurs as they creep around the house.

⠀⠀⠀"You say that about all my ideas," Stiles retorts, glancing back at Scott.

⠀⠀⠀"Because they're all bad ideas," Scott shrugs, and Stiles spins around, holding his hands out exasperatedly, "Well, you learn more from failures than successes," Stiles then smiles, showing off his dimples, and gives Scott two thumbs-up before turning around to approach Haberlind's back door.

⠀⠀⠀"Well, you must be a genius by now," Scott gives a toothy grin, and Stiles spins around slowly with a deadpan expression.

⠀⠀⠀Brietta snorts out a small laugh and slaps her hand to her mouth as Stiles rolls his eyes and turns back to the back door.

⠀⠀⠀The three of them walk up the porch steps leading to the door, and Stiles tries the knob, but, to nobody's surprise, it doesn't budge.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles examines the door for a moment before letting out a small sigh and shrugging off his flannel shirt. Scott and Brietta watch with skeptical looks as Stiles wraps the fabric around his right fist.

⠀⠀⠀"Are you sure about that?" Scott asks Stiles, a small smile of disbelief and amusement growing.

⠀⠀⠀"What?" Stiles shrugs, rocking his shoulders in anticipation, "It's just glass."

⠀⠀⠀Scott and Brietta step back as Stiles tilts his head with a small cocky smile before winding back his arm and throwing a solid punch at the glass.

⠀⠀⠀It would've been cool had the glass not been polycarbonate.

⠀⠀⠀"Oh," Stiles' fist reverberates off the glass and he gapes at his fists for a moment, his eyes twitching wildly. After a moment, the pain registers and Stiles doubles over in pain, "Son of a mother-fucking bi—." Stiles cuts himself off with a hum of agony.

⠀⠀⠀"What did we learn from that failure?" Scott grins widely, taking pleasure in seeing Stiles' plan fail.

⠀⠀⠀Stiles unwraps his flannel from his fist and rolls his tongue against his cheek, bitter laughs escaping him, "Oh, that's funny," He wiggles his fingers before putting on his flannel again, "Wolf's got jokes tonight. That's good."

⠀⠀⠀Stiles points his middle finger at Scott before leaning his upper half off the porch, examining the roof, "Okay, I think if I just..."

⠀⠀⠀"Got it!" Brietta giggles as she grabs a spare key from under the mat in front of the door.

⠀⠀⠀"Ah," Stiles mumbles as he fixes the color of his flannel, "That'll work."

⠀⠀⠀Brietta struggles to contain her smile as Stiles takes the key from her, pushing it into the knob and twisting until he hears a satisfying click.

⠀⠀⠀He opens the door, holding it for Scott and Brietta before closing it gently. "Okay," Scott's voice is quieter, "What are we looking for?"

⠀⠀⠀"In one of his videos," Brietta starts, glancing around the kitchen that the back door leads into, "he talks about doing years of research, so there has to be papers, documents, photographs, journals, books."

⠀⠀⠀"Weren't not just gonna steal them, are we?" Scott asks as Stiles steps deeper into the kitchen, aiming for the open living room space.

⠀⠀⠀"No," Stiles mumbles, turning around to face his best friends, "we're just gonna get what we need, and I'm gonna grab 'em on my phone."

⠀⠀⠀Stiles grabs his phone and swipes to the camera app as Brietta and Scott catch sight of Haberlind sneaking through his hallway before pointing a pistol at Stiles' head.

⠀⠀⠀"Good plan," Haberlind fumes, and Stiles smirks, not registering the voice. "Thank you." After a second, he realizes that it's Haberlind, and he looks up in fear, his heart racing at the barrel near his face.

⠀⠀⠀"Get out," Haberlind sneers at the teenagers and they all scramble back, "Get out of my house right now."

⠀⠀⠀"Uh..." Stiles nods frantically, "absolutely."

⠀⠀⠀When Stiles tries to run off, Scott grabs his bicep and pulls him back. "Just...just five minutes please. Just a few questions," Scott begs, unflinching at the gun in front of him, but he still pulls Brietta and Stiles behind him.

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind narrows his eyes on Scott and waves his gun around slightly, "If you cannot see the gun in my hand, I can recommend a good eye doctor. Otherwise, get out of my house or I will shoot you."

⠀⠀⠀"Just five minutes," Scott insists, his eyes widening in a silent plea, "we would not do this unless we had a really good reason."

⠀⠀⠀"You can heal fast," Brietta whispers in Scott's ear, her body trembling slightly, "but you're not bulletproof."

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind scoffs, "I changed my name to get away from nutjobs like you who think this crap is real."

⠀⠀⠀Scott tilts his head, lowering his arms, "Wait, so you don't believe it?"

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind hesitates before answering, "Of course not."

⠀⠀⠀"Then why'd you change your name to Fenris?" Scott urges, and Haberlind freezes, his face morphing into embarrassment and hesitation.

⠀⠀⠀"We're actually the ones that figured that out," Stiles butts in, motioning to Brietta and himself, "Just FYI."

⠀⠀⠀Scott smacks Stiles slightly before turning back to Haberlind, "I think you believe in it," After a second of staring down Haberlind, he adds, "I don't think you're going to shoot us."

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind tilts his head, his eyes narrowing as he adjusts his grip on the gun, "How do you know that?"

⠀⠀⠀"You're a doctor," Brietta cuts in as Scott tries to come up with a reason, "You took the Hippocratic Oath, right? Do no harm, and whatever."

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind grits his teeth, but he lowers the gun, "God, I hate that oath."

⋅ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ⟡ ⚔ ⟡ ˚｡ ･ ─── ⋅

"I WAS LIVING IN WISCONSIN," Haberlind begins his story as Brietta takes in all of the pictures and documents pertaining to Werewolves that Haberlind had strewn about his living room.

⠀⠀⠀"A woman was rushed into my E.R. Unconscious," Haberlind kneels by one of his many file cabinets and rifles through it as he continues, "I was told it was a hunting accident. That an arrow intended for a white-tailed deer hit her instead."

⠀⠀⠀Brietta glances over to Stiles, who's sitting beside her and skimming through books on Werewolves. She adjusts herself on the couch as Haberlind looks up at the trio, "I removed the arrow, and she woke up. Three minutes later, the wound was gone."

⠀⠀⠀"You mean healed?" Stiles asks, tearing his eyes from the book in his hands.

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind looks at the ground as if he's reliving the moment, "As if it had never happened."

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind grabs a file from the cabinet before closing it and walking over to the trio. "I learned two things that day. There are some people in this world who heal with an ability that science can't explain. Imagine what that means to someone who's dedicated their life to healing. It's like catching a glimpse of the Holy Grail."

⠀⠀⠀"What's the second thing?" Scott asks, but he has a feeling that he already knows.

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind sighs deeply as he opens the file in his hands, staring down at something within it, "There are also some people in this world who want to kill them."

⠀⠀⠀"Hunters," Brietta mutters under her breath, but Haberlind catches it anyway.

⠀⠀⠀"Yeah," he nods, "exactly. You want to guess why they use an arrow?" Haberlind takes out a drawing of a Werewolf holding half of an arrow with a human in its grip.

⠀⠀⠀"She couldn't heal until it was taken out," Stiles answers, taking the drawing from Haberlind.

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind nods with a haunted look, "They also cut them in half. Sever the body, there's no way it'll heal."

⠀⠀⠀Scott frowns, his body tense, "Why did they want them dead?"

⠀⠀⠀"They're the unknown," Haberlind answers, as if it were obvious, "The fear of something more powerful than yourself," He looks down at something in the file and frowns, "Though, I can't imagine why anyone would be afraid of anyone like this."

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind picks up a photograph but doesn't hand it to the teenagers, "I spent five years looking for her. Found her here in Beacon Hills and then she disappeared," Haberlind drops the photograph on his coffee table in front of the teenagers, "All I found was this old photograph of her and a young man. Probably her son."

⠀⠀⠀The trio all gasps under their breaths as their eyes focus on the boy in the picture. It's Derek Hale—so the woman must be his mom. His mom who died in the Hale fire...which is why Haberlind could never find her.

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind, however, oblivious to the recognition on their faces continues, "When I connected the woman to the werewolf myth, I found that there were differences between those who were born and those who were bitten."

⠀⠀⠀He walks around the couch to a desk where his laptop lies. He opens it up and types into it, loading a photograph of a bunch of Werewolves. "Those families who were born into it were said to have a ritual once a year. On the Wolf Moon."

⠀⠀⠀"The what-moon?" Scott inquires, and Brietta answers before Haberlind can, "Native Americans gave every full moon a name. February's the Snow Moon. Worm Moon in March. Pink Moon in April, and it goes on."

⠀⠀⠀As Haberlind rifles through his desk, he contributes, "They call January the Wolf Moon because hungry wolves would howl outside the villages in mid-winter."

⠀⠀⠀"What was the ritual?" Stiles inquires, and Brietta is talking before she even realizes that she is, "It's like a family reunion, but also a power-sharing event. When wolves are in packs, they draw on one another's powers. They're stronger together."

⠀⠀⠀Scott's eyebrows furrow, "How do you know that?"

⠀⠀⠀Brietta purses her lips in thought, "Research, I guess."

⠀⠀⠀"She's right," Haberlind speaks up, making the trio turn to him, "Supposedly Werewolves were stronger together in packs. The Alpha, the Beta, and then the Omega, the lowest of the wolves. They all each contributed to the strength of the pack...they each—damn it!"

⠀⠀⠀The three teenagers jump as Haberlind slams his hands on his desk in frustration.

⠀⠀⠀"Are you okay?" Stiles asks after a moment, and Haberlind grunts before turning to the trio, "My housekeeper doesn't want me to smoke, so she's hiding my cigarettes."

⠀⠀⠀"Wait," Stiles grins, a small chuckle escaping him, "you're a doctor and you smoke cigarettes?"

⠀⠀⠀Haberlind narrows his eyes on Stiles, "You know, I think your five minutes is about up."

⠀⠀⠀"Alright, we know, just, um, one more question, please," Scott adjusts himself on the couch to fully face Haberlind, "is there a cure?" At Haberlind's look of confusion, Scott keeps going, "You said there's differences between Werewolves who are bitten and can he...or her—whoever, maybe...can they be cured?"

⠀⠀⠀"Yes," Haberlind nods and the trio feel themselves light up with hope.

⠀⠀⠀"Cut them in half," He finishes, and the trio's smile drops, "Death cures all ailments. Look, I'm sorry. I've researched this for fifteen years. I've never heard of a cure."

⠀⠀⠀At the crestfallen expressions on the teenagers' faces, Haberlind narrows his eyes suspiciously, "Really, why are you so interested in this? It's just a myth. It's a legend."

⠀⠀⠀"Doesn't everything start out as a myth?" Brietta voices, repeating Dominic's words from earlier that day.

⠀⠀⠀"And some are squashed. I have the certainty of someone who has completely and totally destroyed his personal and his professional reputation for some idiotic obsession," Haberlind scoffs, raising his voice, "Do you have any idea what it's like to know that you have ruined your life? It's one thing to blame others..." He tears up as he looks at the ground, "but it's another when you did it to yourself."

⠀⠀⠀"God, I could use a cigarette," He grits out, shooing the teenagers away, "Your five minutes are up!"

⋅ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ⟡ ⚔ ⟡ ˚｡ ･ ─── ⋅

STILES BRINGS HIS JEEP TO A LEISURELY STOP OUTSIDE BRIETTA'S HOUSE. She smiles lazily at Stiles and Scott before unbuckling her seatbelt and gracefully exiting the Jeep. Stiles and Scott watch her stroll up the driveway, keys in hand.

⠀⠀⠀"I should talk to her," Scott mutters under his breath, adjusting the passenger seat. As he slides out of the Jeep, he turns to Stiles, "I'll ask her what I was supposed to ask her earlier."

⠀⠀⠀"You don't have to," Stiles reassures, but a glimmer of hope shines in his eyes. He nervously grips the steering wheel.

⠀⠀⠀"I want to," Scott insists, offering Stiles an apologetic smile. "I was being an asshole earlier, so I'm sorry."

⠀⠀⠀"You're forgiven, Scott," Stiles playfully rolls his eyes, "obviously."

⠀⠀⠀Scott smiles brightly before calling out softly, "Brie!"

⠀⠀⠀Brietta pauses just before inserting her key into the lock. She turns around, facing Scott, who closes the distance between them.

⠀⠀⠀"Look," Scott mumbles, hanging his head in slight shame, "I'm sorry about what I did this morning. I can't believe that I..."

⠀⠀⠀He trails off when Brietta places her hand on Scott's arm, "I forgive you, Scott, but if you ever pull that again, it won't be my fist hitting your face, it'll be a knife."

⠀⠀⠀Scott lets out a small, nervous laugh, "Noted."

⠀⠀⠀"Since we're apologizing," Brietta shrugs with a soft smile, "I'm sorry that we gave you false hope about a cure."

⠀⠀⠀Scott shakes his head dismissively, "It's okay." A look of darkness suddenly crosses over his face, "Derek, uh...Derek actually told me that he's only ever heard of one cure."

⠀⠀⠀Brietta's eyes widen, "What is it?"

⠀⠀⠀Scott's lips press together in a slight grimace, "I have to kill the one who turned me." With a deep breath, he clarifies, "I have to kill the Alpha."

⠀⠀⠀Brietta gapes at him for a moment before nodding stoically, "If being human is what you really want—and I mean direly want—Stiles and I will help you."

⠀⠀⠀"You'd do that?" Scott gapes, his face softening.

⠀⠀⠀"Yeah," Brietta nods, snorting out a small laugh, "I mean, the Alpha has killed multiple people. We'd just be...killing two birds with one stone."

⠀⠀⠀The two stand in silence for a moment, and Brietta surprises Scott by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. "We'll figure this out, Scott," She whispers into his ear, "Promise."

⠀⠀⠀She pulls away from him after a moment and starts to turn back to her front door, but Scott's voice stops her.

⠀⠀⠀"Do you like us? Stiles and I?" Scott suddenly asks.

⠀⠀⠀Brietta spins around with a small gape, confused by the sudden question, "Of course, I like you guys." At her slightly racing heart and breathy tone, she adds, "You guys are my best friends."

⠀⠀⠀If Scott didn't have his enhanced smell, he would've felt his heart plummet, but he does. He smells a hint of vanilla and cinnamon and smiles.

⠀⠀⠀She's exuding the scent of attraction.

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𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

my favorite ship is forming <3

what do we think about the whole Peter thing?

what do we think about the "search for a cure" inclusion?

i hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

▍PUBLISHED . . 12/21/23 — ♡︎ ୫
© POETICLULLS,                    2023