perishable

Darby Blake and Melissa McCall followed their teenage children into the McCall house, each of them sighing as they collapsed into the chairs of the dining table, exhausted from the day they'd had. They knew this wasn't the end of the facade they had played today, there were questions, a lot of them, especially from Dr. Geyer. The two of them were medical miracles. The man couldn't fathom how both teenagers had been declared dead, only to be fine, walking around in a perfect state only less than an hour later. He had insisted the two of them come back for tests tomorrow, hoping to determine what had caused their proposed death, for now, he suggested sleep, and a lot of it, though neither Scott nor Noelle were too eager to get back to the nightmares they were having before they come back to life. 

Noshiko had warned them of the bad dreams, but bad seemed like an understatement. One had seen her dead brother again, in a corpse-like, horrifying state, and one had envisioned himself as a killer, murdering his own beta, a fifteen-year-old boy who he only wanted to protect. Perhaps it was showing them their fears. Scott becoming a killer, and Noelle's fear of death. 

Both of them, as well as Peyton lay their heads down on the table, wanting to fight sleeping, but it didn't take long for the three exhausted teenagers to slip off into a comfortable, dreamless nap under the close supervision of Melissa and Darby. As tired as the two of them were, as scarred as they were by having to see their children dead and shed those tears, the two couldn't quite bear to stop looking at their children yet. The two sat in silence, watching them, feeling more grateful than ever for what they had created. 

"We really got lucky, didn't we?" Darby whispered as she turned to the nurse beside her.

Melissa nodded with a smile on her face. "They're great kids..." She agreed. "And so, so strong. I just... I don't know how they do it." She admitted, even after seeing them go through the things they had herself, she still couldn't fathom how well they handled it all, how they persevered, or how they still seemed to have so much faith in a life that had put them through hell.

"Does she talk about it with you?" Darby asked suddenly. "The things she's been through? With the vault? Camila? Her father dying?" She elaborated, Melissa shook her head, wishing she could give the woman some advice on how to support her daughter with everything she had endured, she wished she could support the girl more than she had. "I'm sure she will come around. It's all still new. It's only been a few months since she got out of there, I think she still needs more time to adjust." The McCall woman explained, Darby nodded in understanding. "But I know she's glad you're here, and I don't want to overstep, but I think you're doing a great job, this can't be easy for you either."

"They make it easier." Darby smiled as she looked at her two sleeping daughters. 

Three teenagers stood before Sheriff Stilinski with anxious looks across their faces, waiting for a sign that he had understood what they had just told him. They never enjoyed this, explaining the latest supernatural happening to him, it never seemed to go well, the man was always left either confused or in complete and utter disbelief. Because they knew themselves that the things they told him didn't sound real, it shocked even them sometimes. Sometimes what they told him had even led to a lecture about their behavior, like the time they snuck off to Mexico. He still hadn't let his son or the girl who was like a daughter to him live that down, they weren't sure that Noah ever would, from now on, all trips would require a tracker on the Jeep. Maybe even a chaperone. Anything to ensure they didn't pass the border and enter some supernatural age-altering church in the desert. But secret overnight trips to Mexico didn't bring them here now, somehow, it was a lot worse than that, a lot more insane than age regression.

It had been at least five minutes since the three of them had finished their explanation, and the man was yet to blink, to mutter a word. He was frozen with a furrowed brow, staring at the three of them wondering if it was all a figment of his imagination, whether he had become criminally insane and these stories, the past few months of his life was one big hallucination. He couldn't believe that once again the three of them had raised the bar, proving that the impossible might just be possible. He couldn't understand where it ended. When was all this being taken too far? How many people had to come back to life?

"Your grandmother, Lorraine Martin, faked her death?" Sheriff Stilinski slowly clarified, his tone made it clear that as much as it was a question, it was him trying to understand and summarise what the three of them had told him. There were three answers provided, dependent on each of the teenagers. Definitely. Possibly. And maybe. Lydia was skeptical, she didn't believe that their life had reached that point of insanity, Stiles was adamant that it had, and Noelle, as crazy as it seemed, she believed there was a possibility. But perhaps that was the hopefulness in her, ever since she had found out about Lorraine, she had been giving life deep thought. She knew a few people who had rose from the dead now. Kate Argent. Peter Hale. Maybe Lorraine Martin. Who was to say that was where it ended? Maybe other people could be brought back too. Even with the three different answers he was given, Noah found comfort in none of them, more than likely was where the three teenagers agreed to place their opinions. "Oh, I'm guessing you got a story to back this up?" He questioned, expecting them to fail in justifying such an elaborate tale.

"She might be helping The Benefactor," Lydia told him.
"Or is The Benefactor," Stiles added.

Sheriff Stilinski's interest peaked as he shut his office door, more than willing to hear the details of this new supernatural story. The Benefactor had caused him as much trouble as it had them, perhaps he hadn't had to theoretically die for forty-five minutes like the blonde in the room, but it had brought up a lot of mysterious murders that he simply couldn't solve. Or at least not how a typical Sheriff could. His deputies had learned not to question his weird behavior anymore, the entire department was used to his office door being shut, at least when one of the group of teens connected to his son walked into the building. It didn't matter which one it was, it always led to a closed door, sometimes for hours on end, at this rate, it wouldn't be long until they joined the payroll. 

Only a few sentences into Lydia's deeper explanation did Noelle stop the conversation, turning a room of furrowed brows towards her as they wondered what was wrong, whether she'd thought of something that they hadn't noticed beforehand. It wasn't that, she suggested that there was a fifth person needed in the room, someone who deserved to be hearing this too. Parrish. Over the last few weeks he had been a godsend to them, and not to mention, he was on the dead pool as much as they were. The others were in agreement as Noah walked toward the door, asking if his deputy was anywhere to be seen, the entire bullpen shook their heads, leading the man to turn back to the teenagers, for now, it was something Parrish would be filled in on later.

Lydia continued recalling what had happened with her mother at the lakehouse, how Lorraine's request was for her only granddaughter to scatter her ashes when she turned eighteen, with just a few weeks until then, Natalie saw it as good a time as any. Only there were no ashes to scatter, it was an urn filled with mountain ash, made to secure an entire boathouse that was too covered in mountain ash, leaving the question. Where were Lorraine Martin's ashes?

The Martin girl tried thinking of reasons why the ashes might have been missing, Stiles happy to chime in on a few reasons, most centering around the theory that Lorraine was still alive, just as Noelle had thought when she had heard it, he reminded them that it wouldn't be the first time a person just came back to life, or was never dead at all. Lydia had hoped not to jump so deep into theories like that, nor did she want to think too deeply about death, and talking about it with the company they currently held seemed insensitive. She hadn't failed to notice Nellie's eyes trailing off every time something around the topic of death was mentioned, whether it was because she had technically died herself recently, or because of the loss of her brother. Maybe even both. No matter how much she had tried, the redhead didn't want to come to that conclusion, but sitting in front of her was no other choice but to believe it. When her mother handed her the last thing that her grandmother wrote before she died, she couldn't deny it anymore. Natalie swore it was a scrap piece of paper, nonsense even, telling her daughter that she didn't even know why she kept it, but she had, and it was more than just a bunch of writing on paper. Lydia recognized it. It was code.

With a large sigh, Stilinski tried to comprehend what he had been told, what he could say to the redhead to help her comprehend it too. He didn't have the chance before Noelle's voice shouted out the words "Oh, my god!" as she rushed toward the office door, gone in a flash before Lydia or the Stilinskis had a chance to react. She had felt it before Parrish had walked into the building, a shift in the temperature, a surge of heat that washed over her, alerting her to look through those small gaps in Noah's office blinds. 

Within a second of the door swinging open, gunshots were fired across the department, screams from the two girls in Noah's office as Stiles tackled his blonde best friend to the floor, his arms as a shield over her head as bullets continued soaring past them. Stilinski pulled out his own gun, a warning for his two fighting deputies to knock it off, but neither listened, and before he could try to intervene, another bullet was fired straight into the man's shoulder. Noelle urged Stiles to go and help his dad, insisting that she could stop Parrish and Haigh, he didn't hesitate to believe it was true, he quickly released the druid, allowing her to charge toward the man dressed in soot, his clothing charred, almost non-existent. He landed blow after blow on Haigh's jaw, refusing to listen to Noelle causing his name as she stood behind him, hesitant to touch the enraged man in front of her. 

The man was blinded by rage, he wasn't interested in stopping, he would continue hitting Haigh until the man was dead for all he cared, but she couldn't allow that to happen. As much as she'd love to see the smug man Haigh was beaten, he couldn't kill the man. Noelle felt a rush of heat in her palm as she reached out for Parrish, her heat met with even more, his skin was like an open flame in her hand, for anyone else, it would result in third-degree burns, for her, it was nothing if not a usual feeling. Parrish turned to look at the hand on his shoulder, stopping for one second as he looked down at a weakened Haigh,  with one last scowl he punched again, knocking Haigh out cold. 

Silence spread through the bullpen like wildfire, Parrish stood up, looking around, his trance had been broken, beginning to see his actions as he met the stunned looks of his fellow colleagues, a concerned druid, his boss, and two more teenagers convinced they had another druid in front of them. "What just happened?" Parrish questioned the blonde girl, but she didn't have an answer.

Though she was eager to find out.

When the druid had proposed that the deputy come with her, he didn't ask questions, not where she was taking him, not the reason why, not even if either she or Lydia knew the reason why he'd survived Haigh setting him on fire. The man remained silent as he drove, only nodding when the girls gave him directions to a tall apartment building across town. Of course he was curious, he'd learned to be curious when Noelle and Lydia were involved, nothing was simple about them and he still didn't quite understand it all, but he trusted them. And most importantly he knew he was safe in their hands. He recognized the green dirtbike outside of the apartment building, the SUV parked beside it too. Scott McCall's dirtbike, Derek Hale's SUV. 

He walked into the loft behind the girls to find the two waiting for him, Derek stood with folded arms and his usual brooding face, and Scott who had jumped up from the sofa at the sound of the door opening. His eyes widened at the sight of the deputy in all of his soot-covered glory. It had sounded insane when Noelle told him over the phone, but in person, there were no words to describe how ludicrous it all was. A man had walked out of a burning vehicle untouched. He didn't even have a slight burn. His skin was intact, all that had been ruined was his clothing. If anything, Parrish was a walking miracle. 

Derek offered the man some clean clothes and a shower, allowing Noelle and Lydia to give the two of them a more thorough run-through of what had happened to Parrish, repeating word-for-word the story that he had told them when he had finally been pulled off of Haigh and came to his senses. Each of them came to the same conclusion, they had only ever known three others who were capable of doing something like what Parrish had done, able to go near fire and walk away unscathed. All three of those were druids. Noelle, Cole, and their mother Darby. Like the three of them, Parrish had to be a druid too. It was the only creature they knew who had those abilities. While Noelle knew that was the truth, something didn't seem right about it. She didn't feel the way towards the deputy as she did her brother and mother, as though he wasn't one of them. Perhaps it was the lack of family bond, but part of her mind still questioned it. 

"What are you thinking?" Scott questioned the blonde who had a puzzled look across her face, trying to think back to all the times she had filed through the bestiary on long nights when she was bored and curious. Trying to think of any creature that could be like her. "Is it possible? Is he like you guys?"

"Honestly?" Noelle paused. "I don't think so. I can't explain it, something about him... It's not- It doesn't feel like... I don't know anymore." She shook her head. "All I know is that whatever he is, he's strong. I felt it, the only other time I've felt something that strong was when Jennifer Blake used me for her sacrifices. Parrish is just as strong as that, and if tonight proved anything he's as dangerous as she could have been." 

When Parrish returned in fresh clothing and clean skin it only became clearer how unscathed he was after the fire. Derek examined the deputy's clean hands, expecting to find some hint of what he had injured less than an hour ago, but there was nothing. No sign. No burn. Not even a cut of his skin. He was in impeccable condition. The man couldn't understand it, he had never seen it before, both he and Lydia talked about the hair and nails, the essentially dead parts of the body, they should have been gone, but weren't. As confused as they all were, none of them had found themselves as confused as Parrish, in fact, he wasn't only confused but concerned. None of the people around him seemed to be completely freaking out, intrigued perhaps, but they weren't freaked out in the slightest. As if something like this wasn't completely unimaginable.

"I should be dead." Parrish deadpanned.

Scott shook his head in disagreement. "Not if you're like us." He vaguely stated.

The deputy questioned what the teenager meant by that, but his question went completely over their heads as Derek talked to Scott, unsure that Parrish wasn't like them, though he wasn't sure what he was either. He trusted the honorary Hale's word, if she didn't think that Parrish was like her, then he couldn't be, she had a strong intuition, her word was to be trusted. While Derek had knowledge of the supernatural from Kanimas to Kitsunes he didn't know what the deputy could be, until Noelle came strolling into their lives he didn't know anything of the sort existed. But he had an idea of how to find out, an idea he assumed she had already had. The Bestiary.

Scott and Lydia had too turned to look at the girl in possession of the book, questioning whether she was willing to scour a thousand pages in search of the answer, and she was. As soon as they returned home she would spend all hours of the night reading it word for word, she would do it every night until she had an answer.

"Hold on." Parrish backtracked. "What's a Bestiary? Actually, that's not even my first question." Though the deputy couldn't quite think of what he wanted to ask first, his mind was flooded by questions, and he didn't know how many they would allow him to ask. "Just... Just tell me one thing. Are all of you like Lydia?" He asked, the four stared at him, confused as to how he knew of Lydia's abilities, the two girls shared a sly look, Lydia shook her head, informing the blonde that she hadn't told him a thing. "Are you all psychic?"

Derek and Noelle held back their laughter, it was one way to describe what Lydia was capable of, perhaps more of a PG way, one that hides just how horrifying what she did was. Even Lydia was amused by the comment, surprised, but amused. Scott was the only one who seemed to think of it all a little deeper, wondering how Parrish had even come to that conclusion, maybe it was the Banshee wandering around a crime scene that did it for him.

Parrish continued looking around the group, yet to gain his answer of what everyone was, if the whole group were psychic like Lydia. Scott didn't quite know how to put it into words, but he did know one way he could tell Parrish what they were. Scott bowed his head for a moment, when it rose again, his eyes were a searing blood red, the deputy's own eyes widening in both shock and horror. A million more questions coming to mind.

It took more than just the True Alpha to explain, two of them had much more experience in this, telling other people what they were and what they were capable of, it was never easy, they never knew how the other person would react. But together, they hoped they would get the best result of telling someone about their insane but very real world of being supernatural. They sat Parrish down, it seemed necessary before they began telling the details, trying to keep it in order of the events. From Derek being born a werewolf to Noelle finding out about her abilities and having a pack of Alpha werewolves kidnapping her, to Scott becoming a werewolf, everything their crazy lives had entailed right up until the dead pool. Scott had made it clear to the deputy that anyone remotely supernatural was put on that list, which was why Parrish too was on it, even if what he was remained a mystery. 

"How many professional assassins are we talking about?" Parrish asked.

The group remained honest, they were losing count, Noelle adding that it might not be limited to professionals either. She knew how professionals added, she was one of them, or at least she used to be, professionals didn't act like this, their moves were careless, untactile. Parrish could understand her reasoning, he didn't believe Haigh had ever done anything like this, it appeared that he was simply taking a chance. 

"That means anyone with the dead pool can take a chance," Derek informed the deputy. Their lives were all at risk, even going to school or walking down the street was a risk now, nobody in this town seemed to care about innocent lives anymore, with the money that was being fed to them for shedding blood. They were blinded by it. Morality had been tossed aside for the sake of the millions they could earn by killing supernaturals, most being teenagers they had seen grow up, teenagers their own kids were friends with. 

"But if Haigh had it, then who else does? How easy is it to get this thing now?" 

Nobody could answer Parrish's question, not only could they not keep track of the assassins but they couldn't keep track of the dead pool itself anymore. For all they knew, their neighbors had it, their teachers, anyone in Beacon Hills could have it sitting on their desks. The loft had quickly turned quiet as they all allowed the thought to sink in, that they could be killed anywhere and anytime.

While that settled in for the three males, Noelle and Lydia shared a knowing look, coming to talk about Parrish wasn't the only reason they were here, it was simply an incentive to bring him with them. Before he walked into the Sheriff's Station to finish off Haigh, the two girls knew they had to talk to Scott and Derek about what they knew, about Lorraine Martin's potential involvement in the dead pool. Whenever it came to the dead pool, or even just the Banshee, everything led to one place. One person. Meredith Walker.

Meredith Walker had only met Lorraine Martin once, the woman had found her through a friend of hers. Maddy. The woman whom she loved. Lydia never met her, but she was her name almost everywhere. Maddy used to be part of a yacht racing team. There were plaques and trophies in the lakehouse from all the regatta's she'd won.

Parrish had asked how she had died, but how wasn't the story. It was what had happened right before. Her grandmother, Lorraine, used to work in San Francisco for IBM. Lorraine was there on a weekend, catching up on work when she started hearing this sound. Like rain. But when she'd looked out the windows, all she saw was blue sky.

"But she kept hearing the rain?" Scott questioned.

And it just kept getting louder. Rain and thunder cracking like gunshots in her head. So loud. She finally just screamed. Like a Banshee. A trait Lydia inherited from her grandmother. Lorraine had called Maddy who was planning on taking one of the boats out on the lake. But Maddy said that the sun was shining there too. So Lorraine didn't say anything.

It took them four days to find Maddy's body. And then it took decades for Lorraine to figure out how she knew. She started out with parapsychologists, like the PHD in their name made it more scientific. They built the study in the lakehouse according to every pseudoscientific theory they could find. None of it worked. Then she started getting into more extreme occult. Things like the psychics and mediums of the world. All of them were failures. Until Meredith. They found her in Eichen House. This fragile girl who didn't understand the things she heard. They brought her to the study. And they almost killed her.

She was hospitalized for over a year. She never really recovered. Lydia's grandmother drove her insane, and Lydia had driven her to suicide. And all she ever wanted to do was help. Lydia pulled out two things from her bag, laying them out on the table in front of them, one of which was the scrap piece of paper. The code. Her grandmother created the code for the original dead pool. It was believed that she was the Banshee who put the names out in the first place.

As Lydia slid the piece of paper over to Scott, Derek picked up the other thing she had laid out on the table. A small image of Lorraine and Maddy, perhaps the rest of them had never met the two women, or even known about them until today, but it was a heartwarming picture. Showing that even like them, supernatural, it wasn't always so bad, there were good moments, moments they could find light and love in a world full of darkness and hate. Lydia believed that Lorraine left the code on purpose, she knew that this would happen, that her granddaughter would be the one to crack the cipher key. She would be the one to figure it out. 

While she tried to do that, enlisting the help of Stiles, Noelle intended to follow through on what she had promised, beginning her search of the Bestiary.

·❥·

Noelle walked through a crowd of dancing, intoxicated teenagers as warm heat from the bonfire brushed against her skin, the DJ booth sent vibrations through the ground, her head pulsating, it was enough for her to want to turn around and go home, she had never done parties, she didn't do this many people in one place, she wasn't used to it. Two years alone in a confined space still felt more homely than this to her. But going home wasn't an option. She knew Malia was here, a girl who had refused to speak to her for days, and frankly, Noelle couldn't take another day of it. She wouldn't take another day of it. 

She moved past countless amounts of security, none seeming to care about the drunken teens in front of them, they looked at the people dancing around them, stumbling and slurring, not a single one thrown out of the bonfire. For some reason, a blind eye was being turned, and if she was a party-goer, she was sure she would be as thankful as the rest of the school for it. They had all taken advantage of it, even the girl she was looking for. 

Malia was across the schoolyard, a flask in hand as she danced the night away without a care in the world. Even she looked as drunk as the rest of the school. Perhaps music was intoxicating. It was the only explanation for the girl's seemingly drunken demeanor. As the blonde pushed her way through the crowd, Malia noticed her, immediately turning her back as she took another big swig from her flask. 

"Malia." Noelle stood behind her. "Can we talk?"

"I'm not here to talk," Malia shouted, keeping her back toward the girl. "I'm here to dance."

"Lia, please. We need to talk about this." The blonde begged her. "I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I shouldn't have kept it from you and I wish I never had. I just- I didn't know how to tell you and-"

"Your sorry?" Malia repeated, finally turning to look at the girl. Noelle nodded, really sorry, she emphasized. The coyote paused for a minute, thinking about whether she would accept Nellie's apology, whether the blonde girl deserved it after keeping such a big secret. But the girl recalled that it wasn't her biggest secret, and that secret, she did in fact know. Malia held out her flask as the blonde girl furrowed a brow. "I think you need this as much as I do." The coyote proposed, a moment of consideration from Noelle before she took it, seeing it as an olive branch. 

Scott walked through the crowd, he had come with the blonde but had immediately lost her in the crowd, he had intended to find her, but his mind was occupied, struggling to concentrate on searching for Noelle when he couldn't take the dead pool off of his mind. Liam had shown him a version that had came through his printer just last night, an updated version, Derek's name had been taken off of the list, his worth placed on top of that of Liam's. A fifteen-year-old beta worth 18 million dollars. The Alpha couldn't settle. First, Derek's name had broken a third of the list, he already knew what that meant, a Banshee had predicted it, and as Derek had said himself, they didn't predict danger, they predicted death. Now, his name was gone. As though he was already as good as dead anyway. 

Trying to shake the thought off, Scott continued walking, noticing a dancing Malia through the crowd, he couldn't see Noelle with her, which meant he had found her first, he furrowed a brow at the flask in her hand, wondering why the coyote was drinking, whether she knew it wouldn't have an effect on her. Unlike she had with Noelle, the girl didn't turn away when Scott came to her, she continued to carelessly drink and dance.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asked through the blaring music.

"Getting drunk." Malia held up her flask, refusing to let the conversation stop her dancing. "What are you doing?" She asked.

"Trying to make sure no one gets hurt." He retorted, scanning around for the blonde girl. The girl told him that sounded fun too, a clear lie, but she was too drunk to understand social cues, even sober she struggled. Even the thought of being here to look after other people encouraged her to take another sip of her drink, washing down the thought of any responsibility. Scott turned back to the girl as she took the sip, it was clear she didn't know about the effect, or lack thereof, that a flask of alcohol would have on her. "Look, Malia, I don't want to ruin your night or anything, but we kind of can't get drunk. I think it has something to do with our healing. Trust me, I've tried it. You're not gonna feel anything."

The coyote shrugged, taking yet another sip, proposing that he tell Liam and Noelle that too, she pointed to the boy sitting on the bench, pouring an entire bottle into some soda, at least trying to disguise his underage drinking. Beside him sat Noelle, swaying side to side as Mason held her hair back, ensuring that when the time did come, she wouldn't vomit in her hair. Frankly, Scott was surprised she had drunk at all, he knew she didn't do parties, let alone alcohol. 

"Nell, are you drunk?" Scott asked as he kneeled in front of the girl.

"No." She shook her head. "I haven't drunk a drop." Malia reminded her that she had taken some of hers from her flask, but the blonde shook her head. "No, I spat that out when you turned away from me. Scotty, I don't feel good." Noelle admitted, her words in a mumbled slur as she looked up at the Alpha.

Confused, Scott looked around, noticing an awfully suspicious security guard watching the girl swaying from side to side, his hands digging into his pockets, as though he was patiently waiting for something to happen, for a signal to do something. He turned to Malia, questioning if she felt okay, but the girl couldn't form a sentence, she stammered, struggling to think of an answer, but that in itself was more than enough. He sat her down beside Liam, the three of them in a row, all seemingly intoxicated. Mason gave each of them a bottle of water while reassuring Scott that his best friend hadn't had enough to be acting so drunk, yet none of them could walk or talk. Scott's eyes scanned around, noticing that every security guard was watching them with narrowed eyes as they ignored every actually intoxicated teenager. Something was going on. 

He turned back, to Mason, insisting they needed to get them out of here, warning him that there was something going on here. Before they could put the plan into motion, Scott began feeling it wash over him too, his vision was blurry as he looked at his hand, seeing double, his legs giving up on him as he began losing his own balance. Mason asked how much he had had to drink, but he'd had nothing. Just like Noelle, he hadn't had a sip. He had been too busy walking around to find Noelle or Malia, there hadn't been a free moment for him to even think about alcohol.

As the wolf leaned on the bench, he focused his hearing, looking for an alternative, as he did, he did, he made out a separate track beneath the music. "It's not the drinks." He mumbled. "It's the music. I have to turn off the music." He told a confused Mason. "Don't let them out of your sight."

Despite being convinced that Scott was delusional, he listened to the wolf, keeping an eye on the three "drunken" teenagers. The Alpha stumbled his way toward the stage, the DJ looked straight at him, the corner of his mouth pulling into a grin, his finger turning up the weapon as the young wolf grimaced, collapsing to the floor in a pained groan, he couldn't move. The music acted as a paralyzer, preying on every limb he had as he curled up into a ball, nobody around noticed, they were drunk and dancing, just like the assassins wanted. It all made sense now. The security had turned a blind eye in the hopes they would too. Two of the guards pulled him off of the ground, escorting him into the school while the others retrieved his friends. Mason tried to argue, telling them to let go of his friends, but he was shoved to the ground, the head guard insisting that they needed to be escorted out, that they were all too intoxicated. Before he could pull himself up, he was left to watch the three of them be dragged away, unable to help them. 

Carelessly, they were dumped in the school hallways, groaning on the ground, unable to muster up the strength to fight back, they had no spark inside of them, for Noelle, that was literal. They all wanted to fight, but they could barely pull themselves onto their knees, forced to look up at a row of smug faces, more random civilians of Beacon Hills who had received the dead pool, now, they wanted their money. One more appeared, equipped with a red gasoline canister.

"Haigh says we gotta burn ya." The man spoke as he knelt down to the blonde girl, looking at her with a furrowed brow. "Pretty for a monster, huh?" He scoffed, proceeding to empty the gasoline onto her and the weakened bodies of her friends, he didn't stop until there wasn't a drop left in the canister and their bodies were drenched. The smell burnt their nostrils, the taste of gasoline in their mouth as they coughed, spluttering it out.

The Alpha amongst them attempted to pull himself up off of the ground, wanting to be the one to stand up to the assassins, to save his friends, but a boot landed in his chest knocking him into the lockers once again. The guard ignited his lighter inches from his face as he grinned, eager to gain his reward, thinking of what he could do with his share of millions. A holiday. A new home. A one-way ticket out of Beacon Hills, a town infested with supernatural creatures. He gave it all a long and hard thought as the flame continued to dance just inches from the werewolf's face, the heat getting closer and closer. But he couldn't move, he couldn't even gather up enough oxygen to blow out the flame. He didn't have the strength for anything. Until he did. In a split second, he felt fine, every pain he had felt fading in an instant, the vibration of music gone, the hallway back to the usual quiet hallway they had known during after hours. 

Scott's eyes became a bright red, his vision clear again as he looked at the guard in front of him, the power of an Alpha rushing through him once again as he grabbed the man's wrist, bending it back until the man was groaning in pain, out of nowhere, the but of a gun collided with his head. Following Braeden, two more figures emerged from the shadows of the school hallway, fighting off a team of guards that came rushing toward them. The first grabbed by Derek, shoved into the lockers. Another taken down by Peyton. Two more attempted an attack on the young girl, before they had the opportunity, the werewolf took their punches, returning an uppercut to one's chin, a headbutt to the other. Soon enough, the hallway was scattered with the unconscious bodies of the guards. All but one taken down.

The head guard struggled his way onto his knees, scrambling to reach his lighter, he managed to reach it, about to ignite it, taking this entire hallway up in flames, killing the supernatural with it, but there was nothing. The man clicked the lighter repeatedly, desperately, confused as to why he couldn't light a flame. A shadow cast over the man as he looked up, a blonde girl with strong gasoline dripping from her hair looked down at him with bright orange eyes and a devilish smile before kicking him in the head, allowing him to join his fellow unconscious guards.

Breathlessly, the supernatural and Braeden looked around at one another, a relieved smile on their faces as they realized that once again they had defeated a group of assassins, fighting the odds. "What happened to the gun?" The Alpha asked, Derek after only seeing it lay on his bed a few hours ago, Derek answered simply, they were covered in gasoline. "Oh, yeah." He mumbled before his next question. "How did you know we were here?" 

"Peyton called us." He admitted, nodding over at the teenage girl who coyly waved her hand. In a split second, the girl had been smothered by a hug, her older sister gripping onto her, grateful for every time she had survived, knowing that Peyton wouldn't have to grieve her. "Nell, I love you... but you stink of gasoline."