WARNING: There is violence, blood, gore, and assault in this chapter.

          At the sound of the fire alarm, Joan and the rest of the class began to file out of the classroom and into the hallway. Immediately Scott, Lydia, Kira, and Joan huddled together in the corridor, students hurriedly pushing past them. "What's going on?" Kira asked in confusion.

          "It's Tracy," Scott informed them, beginning to lead the group through the halls. "She's in the building." 

          Joan bit her bottom lip, knowing that this couldn't be good. She was glad that they knew where Tracy was, but at the same time that also meant trouble. The four wormed there way through the high school, making their way to the history classroom. "Hey!" Stiles yelled over the wailing of the fire alarm, forcing his way through the crowd of students with Malia a couple of steps behind. "What's the plan? What are we going to do?"

          Scott scrunched his eyebrows together, trying to come up with a plan on the spot. Joan's mind raced with different ideas on how to handle the situation. "How about this?" she began, trying to piece the ideas in her mind together as fast as she could. "You, Stiles, and Malia take Tracy to the clinic once you've gotten her from the school. Kira, Lydia, Liam, and I can look into who might have turned her and why she's killed all of these people."

          She looked between the members of the pack, making sure that they were okay with the plan. Lydia and Kira agreed, adding that it would be good for them to split up. Scott and Malia nodded in approval, but Stiles remained stuck in his mind. With reassurance from Scott, the pack separated and began to make their way to their respective place.

          As Joan began to follow Kira and Lydia, a hand grabbed her arm and spun her around. She gasped in surprise, looking up at Stiles in shock. He looked concerned. It reminded her of when he didn't want her to sit in the back of the van during Liam's first full moon. It was his "I'm very concerned for your safety" look.

          "I'll be fine, Stiles," Joan insisted, moving her hand to release Stiles' hold from her and interlock their fingers. "Both of us will be okay and we'll help this girl. Take a deep breath. Everything will be alright."

          Stiles nodded, breathing in deeply and looking into Joan's eyes. "Just promise me you'll keep me updated and please don't do anything reckless," Stiles stuttered.

          A fond smile graced her lips as she placed her free hand on Stiles' cheek, "Always. Pinkie promise?" Stiles laughed at that and extended his free hand with his pinkie outstretched. Joan grinned as she hooked hers around his. 

          "Pinkie promise."

          "Now I'd love to keep looking at your handsome face, but we have some serious work to do." At that, the two separated and made their way to their friends, awaiting for Liam and Scott to obtain Tracy. After several minutes, Scott and Mr. Yukimura exited the classroom with Tracy's unconscious body. They then hurriedly exited the building with Malia and Stiles in toe, heading to Stiles' Jeep.

          Joan, Kira, and Lydia ran up to Liam, trying to figure out where they should investigate first. "Is there anyone else we can talk to?" Kira asked the other three, spitballing ideas. "Does she still have her mom? Any family?"

          "Alpha," Lydia suddenly stated. "If she's a werewolf, she has an Alpha, right?"

          "You're right," Joan agreed, nodding her head vigorously. "Someone would have had to turn her. Even if she was a born-werewolf she'd still have one."

          "Anyone know if a new one's moved into Beacon Hills?"

          Kira shook her head as a look of recognition came into her eyes, "No, but there's an old one. One of the oldest and we know her." The three girls turned to look at Liam, knowing that he'd be their best bet at talking to Satomi.

          A grimace overcame Liam's face as he realized who he'd have to talk to, Brett. The four decided then that both Liam and Mason would go talk to Brett to find out who turned Tracy, while the other three would go to Tracy's home to try to find out why she's been killing people and who might be next.

»

          Joan looked around the Stewart household, discomfort gripping her as she followed Lydia and Kira up the stairs. She knew that checking out Tracy's bedroom would be their best bet at finding any clues, but it still felt like an invasion of privacy.

          "Hold on. Isn't this like a crime scene or something?" Kira asked, stopping Lydia from opening up the door to Tracy's room.

          "No," Lydia scoffed, swinging the door wide open to reveal Tracy's room covered in "POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS" tape. Kira and Joan looked at Lydia with resembling looks of distress. 

          "Maybe," the strawberry blonde corrected herself. "Don't worry about it."

          The room looked like a normal teenage girl's bedroom. The walls were painted an average beige tone with a variety of framed artwork and photos hanging on them. Half of a wall was completely covered in drawings and sketches Tracy had made. The girl had a four-poster bed, her sheets and pillows were nicely made as if she hadn't slept in her bed at all the night before. Joan looked up to see the skylight that Lydia had informed them about, noticing the locks that were newly added.

          "Okay, so what are we looking for?" Kira asked as the trio began to make their way around Tracy's room in search of any clues as to why Tracy was on a killing spree.

          Lydia shrugged, looking at several photos on Tracy's wall and turning on a lamp, "I'm mostly just following a feeling."

          "Your feelings usually lead us to dead bodies," Joan stated, beginning to rummage through Tracy's desk.

          Lydia turned to her brunette friend with her eyebrows raised, "Let me know if you find one." In response, Joan laughed, hoping that she wouldn't be seeing another dead body any time soon. 

          The trio diligently looked through everything Tracy owned. Her desk was covered in notes and homework, as well as art supplies. Joan looked up at the wall of art Tracy had made, disturbed by some of the images. She assumed some of them had to do with the night terrors the girl had. Several were of crows, others of three mysterious figures. There were a few happier, more light-hearted images of flowers, but Joan's eyes were focused on the three figures. She didn't know why but she thought she recognized them from somewhere.

          Her heartbeat began to rise the longer she looked at the drawings, fear bubbling up inside her. Before she could call out to Lydia and Kira, the latter drew her attention. "Hey, look at this," Kira called, holding up a dreamcatcher and a card. She began to read the card as Lydia and Joan made their way over to her. "'Remember, TracyBear, it only works if you believe it. Hope this helps. Love, Dad.'"

          Joan frowned, looking over at Lydia and Kira with the same look of sadness. "This is beyond depressing."

          "He was just trying to help her," Lydia expressed.

          "Why would she go after him like that?"

          "I guess she wasn't in control of herself," Lydia tried to defend. Kira shook her head at that, pointing out that it wasn't a full moon last night. 

          Joan nodded, understanding that nothing was making sense here. "Maybe something else caused her to shift?" she suggested. "It could have been her night terrors."

          At that, something clicked in Joan's head, "Did you know that there are people who have experienced such terrible night terrors that they've accidentally murdered their entire family? These people have no idea of the actions they're committing and have no control. I read it in one of my mother's psychology books over the summer. It's called 'homicidal somnambulism.'"

          "Wait, why did you read your mom's psych book?" Kira asked in confusion.

          Joan shrugged, "I get bored easily and decided to read it. It was quite interesting, I would recommend."

          The group chuckled lightly before getting back onto the topic at hand. "So if Tracy's killing people she doesn't really want to kill, she might not actually be awake?"

          Joan nodded in approval, looking between the two girls with growing concern, "She's still in a night terror." If she wasn't in control of her body and mind, then they had to find her fast. It'd be one thing if she was a human, but the fact that she was seemingly a werewolf made their fears even worse. The three paced around the room, trying desperately to figure out who Tracy's next target could be. 

          "Now, wait a minute. Her dad was just trying to help her, right?" Kira thought aloud. 

          "So was her psychiatrist," Lydia added, looking at Tracy's wall of art.

          "Maybe that was why she was at the school today," Joan proposed, beginning to understand what Kira was theorizing. "She was looking for another person that was trying to help her."

          Kira agreed, pacing in circles. "Maybe it was you?" the kitsune proposed, looking at the banshee. In response, she got a shocked look from both Lydia and Joan. A look of surrender fell open Kira's face immediately, "Or not. Since that would mean she wants to kill you..."

          Lydia turned around, her mind following the new theory that Kira was proposing. "No, you're right. I was trying to help. But, so was someone else... My mother," Lydia revealed, looking between the two girls in front of her. "What if Tracy went to the school looking for her?"

          Realization dawned on Kira and Joan. They finally figured out Tracy's next target on her hit list. "Where is she now?"

          "On a date." Without questioning any further, Lydia led the two out of the Stewart residence and into her car. Before the two could even properly buckle their seatbelts, the car was already in motion. Lydia drove quickly through the streets of Beacon Hills, trying to get to her mother at the police station as soon as possible. 

          Within record time, the trio arrived at the police station. Lydia had driven so fast that she was seconds away from beating Stiles' record. The girls sprinted up to the station, hoping that they had made it in time. Lydia busted through the front doors, Kira and Joan right behind her.

          Relief flooded their systems at the sight of Ms. Martin, glad that they had come before Tracy had done anything to her. "Mom, she's coming! Tracy's coming for you," Lydia warned, fear lacing her tone.

          Lydia's mother looked at her daughter and her friends in shock. "What? What do you mean for me?" she asked in disbelief. 

          Before any of them could explain, a hissing noise could be heard from above causing all of them to slowly lookup. There, they found Tracy growling and hissing from the ceiling, sporting a new tail, glowing orange eyes, and fangs. Half of her face was covered in scales as well. She did not look happy to see them.

          Without hesitation, Joan whipped out her staff. Kira followed suit and unsheathed her katana. The sheriff grabbed his gun from his holster and began firing it at Tracy as she jumped down to the floor. Effortlessly, Tracy's tail slapped the gun out of his hands and cut the sheriff's arm, effectively paralyzing him. 

          "Tracy, let's play nice here," Joan urged, pointing her staff at the girl. "You just need to wake up. You don't want to do this." Instead of Tracy stepping down, she hissed loudly and sprinted towards Joan. 

          Joan shook her head and pressed the two buttons that opened up her staff, leading to the two yellow-wolfsbane dipped blades popping out. Joan twisted her staff and body as she began to fight Tracy alongside Kira. The seeming kanima-werewolf hybrid grunted as one of Joan's blades nicked her skin, barely cutting her to Joan's surprise.

          Tracy bared her fangs at Joan, lunging at her in an attempt to paralyze her. Joan quickly ducked, rolling away from Tracy. She moved her staff and tried to keep her opponent from cutting her. The two battled as Tracy's tail and hands grabbed the staff, trying to pull it from Joan's grip as Joan tried to push Tracy away with her staff. The two were at a standstill, locked in their position with Tracy towering over Joan's figure on the ground. 

          Joan grunted with effort, pushing her arms forward in hopes of moving Tracy away, while also trying to keep her staff in her grasp. She looked over Tracy's shoulder, seeing Kira mouthing at Joan to push Tracy towards her. Joan thought quickly, trying to find an effective way to get Tracy away from her without hurting herself in the process.

          An idea popped into Joan's head as Tracy started to apply more pressure. Joan quickly kicked her legs out at Tracy, hitting the girl square in the gut with all of the strength she had left. Tracy heaved, letting go of the staff and stumbling backward in surprise. Joan hastily scrambled away towards Lydia, leaning her back against the wall as she watched Kira grab Tracy's attention and begin to fight her. 

          "Are you alright?" Lydia frantically asked, looking between Joan's tired figure and Kira.

          Joan nodded slowly, wiping the sweat off of her face, "Yeah, uh, I'm fine. She didn't cut me, just really wore me out."

          Lydia sighed in relief, but her content was shortlived at the sight of her mother still being there. "Mom, run! Run!" she yelled, trying to save her while Tracy was distracted. However, that warning caught Tracy's attention, leading her to swing her tail and stab Lydia's side.

          Ms. Martin yelled Lydia's name as the strawberry blonde fell to the floor beside Joan. Joan quickly pressed down on the wound, blood seeping through her fingers. Lydia groaned in pain, beginning to feel the paralysis taking over. Joan tried to apply as much pressure as she could, watching Kira fight Tracy.

          The kitsune shoved Tracy away and jumped onto one of the nearby desks. She spun her katana and began to glow a bright orange. The figure of a flaming fox appeared around Kira as she waited to make her next move. Kira jumped down as Tracy began to spin in an attempt to swipe her tail at the girl. 

          A scream ripped through Kira's throat as she slashed her katana through Tracy's tail, cutting it off completely. Lydia and Joan watched in shock as the flames grew around Kira, but in the blink of an eye, the figure was gone. Kira heaved as if she had drained all of her energy. Despite the tired and vacant look in her eye, Kira moved over to Lydia and Joan.

          "Apply pressure," Joan instructed to Kira, removing her hands and ripping the bottom of her blouse. "We need to make a tunic to stop the bleeding. A belt would be much better suited but this will have to do." She quickly tied the fabric around Lydia's abdomen. A small part of her knew that this wouldn't do much, but it was better than nothing.

          After the makeshift tunic was tied, Kira continued to apply pressure. Joan moved Lydia's head into her lap, trying to soothe the girl. Several minutes later, the sound of footsteps could be heard. Joan tensed up and grabbed her staff, prepared to attack whoever was coming. To her relief it was Malia.

          "Lydia?" she asked in concern, seeing the bleeding wound was getting worse.

          "It's okay," Lydia slurred, the blood loss and paralysis causing her to stutter and mumbled. "It's not as bad as it looks. Malia, listen... Tracy... She thinks she's asleep– she thinks she's dreaming. But it's a night terror."

          Malia shook her head with fear and confusion written all over her face, "I– I don't know what that means..."

          "She's not dreaming. She's asleep," Lydia babbled. Both Joan and Kira looked at Malia, hoping that she would understand what Lydia was saying. She was getting worse and they needed to get her to a hospital. "Get her to understand."

          The sheriff grunted, grabbing Malia's attention, "Basement. They're in the basement."

          "They?"

          "Tracy," Lydia gasped out, "and my mother."

          Malia nodded and made her way down into the basement, leaving the four of them in the lobby. "You should follow her," Lydia slowly gargled, looking at Joan.

          "What? No!" Joan refused, looking down at her friend in shock. "You're badly injured! Malia can take care of herself. You're my priority right now."

          "Kira's here to keep pressuring on it. There's nothing else you can do. Malia needs you more than me..."

          Joan hesitated, looking between Lydia and her wound. Kira cleared her throat and nodded, reassuring her that they would be fine. Joan sat there for a moment, contemplating her options. She could leave her friend to help another and hope that help was on the way for Lydia, or she could stay. She could keep brushing Lydia's hair and root for Malia at a distance. She knew that Malia could handle herself. Plus with Tracy's tail gone she couldn't be paralyzed. However, she might not be able to get Lydia's mother out of there and stop Tracy at the same time.

          With a small sigh, Joan moved Lydia out of her lap and onto the ground. She slowly pushed her aching body into a standing potion. She looked down at Lydia and Kira, the two sending her encouraging smiles. 

          "Thank you," Lydia whispered as she watched Joan grabbed her staff and begin to make her way down to the basement. She could hear the grunts of the fight between Malia and Tracy, causing her to grip her staff tightly. 

          The sound a hissing and ticking met her ears, causing Joan to stop in her tracks. Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as she looked around her. She turned to check if anyone else was with her in the corridor but found nothing. She let her shoulders relax a little, assuming that all she heard was Tracy. As she turned around to assume her descent, she saw a man covered in rusted metal and a leather trench coat. A mask with a red monocle covered his face. 

          She gasped in shock as he grabbed her by the neck and forced her against the wall, lifting her body to the point where her feet were off the ground. Her eyes frantically looked around her, seeing two other men in similar attire. Metal masks covered their faces, concealing their identities as well. All three of them vibrated and buzzed at a frequency that Joan didn't quite understand. Joan squirmed, dropping her staff and beginning to claw at the man's metallic hand.

          "Is she the one?" one of the men behind them ask, his voice monotone and distorted.

          The man with the red monocle nodded, bringing his face closer to hers and gripping her neck tightly, "Yes. She's our enigma."

          Joan coughed and sputtered, trying to free herself. She kicked at the man and tried to elbow him. This only earned her more force as one of the other men grabbed her arm and forced it against the wall. Joan tried to scream, but the hand around her neck prevented her from releasing a single sound. Tears began to stream down her face as the third man inched toward her, revealing a large rusted needle. Without any care or remorse, he stabbed it into her arm and began to draw her blood.

          The combination of Joan's lack of oxygen and blood-withdrawal led her to slowly go unconscious. Within minutes, although it felt like hours to Joan, the men let her go, dropping her body onto the floor. She crumpled, her head hitting the ground with a smack. Her body was splayed around her, she felt numb to everything. Her eyes were slowly blinking, her body twitching as she laid there in a heap. In her haze, she thought she saw the men disappear into thin air before everything went black.

»

          Stiles frantically looked around the destroyed police department, fearful of what he might find inside. He was praying that everyone was okay. A sigh of relief left his lips at the sight of his father slowly getting to his feet with Scott and Officer Clark's help. However, the sight of blood caught his attention. He slowly began to follow it, his relief disappearing with each step he took.

          His jaw dropped at the sight before him of Lydia laying paralyzed in a pool of her blood. Kira was kneeling over her, applying pressure on the wound, in addition to a makeshift tunic. He stood frozen, look at one of his closest friends in shock. He could see the pain written all over her face as she winced and bit down on her lip. 

          Theo burst past him, pushing Stiles away before he could take another step inside. The omega quickly removed his belt and tied it around Lydia's torso. Joan was right, the belt was much more effective.

          Stiles gapped at the sight in front of him, inwardly loathing Theo for being there and trying to help. He knew he could have done the same thing, but he was just too slow. Stiles looked at the scene in front of him, noticing that someone was missing.

          "Where's Joan?" he asked, fear dripping from every word. "Where is she?!"

          "I saw her in the hallway," Ms. Martin rapidly replied, looking frantically between her wounded daughter and the Stilinski boy. She was completely out of it as she ran towards her daughter and tried to soothe her.

          Stiles quickly spun around and began to run through the station, praying that Joan was alright. Scott, Deaton, and the sheriff followed in pursuit. The Stilinski boy's heart pounded in his chest as he weaved through the station's corridors. His breath hitched in his throat as he made another turn. His eyes locking on Joan's fallen figure.

          "Joan?" he whispered, forcing himself to move forward and reach her side. He moved her hair out of her face and cupped her cheek. "Joan?!"

           His eyes frantically looked over her body, spotting a wound on her left arm that was bleeding. Without him realizing, Scott arrived beside him. The two moved Joan's body into a seated position, leaning her against Stiles. Deaton bent down and examined her, placing two of his fingers against the side of her neck to check for a pulse.

          "She's alive," Deaton reassured. "Her heart is racing and it looks like she's lost too much blood. I'm not sure if Tracy did this, but she needs to go to a hospital."

          Stiles looked down at Joan's pale figure. Her body was covered in sweat and blood. He knew that they needed to find Malia and Tracy but he didn't want to let Joan go. Thankfully, Joan had made it close enough to the basement that Malia heard them talking.

          The were-coyote stumbled into the hall, panic written all over her face. "There were these people. They had masks," Malia stuttered, tears pooling in her eyes. "Um, there– there were three of them. I think there were three."

          "What are you talking about?" Scott asked, moving over to Malia. He turned his head and saw Tracy's body lying lifeless on the floor. 

          More tears began to stream down Malia's face as she looked at the group in alarm. "They were strong, Scott. They had a weapon. Stiles, I didn't do this," Malia urged, desperately looking at the group in front of her. Scott and Deaton quickly made their way to Tracy's body, noticing that she was still in her supernatural form.

          "She's not changing back. We're going to need to get her out of here," Deaton urged, hearing the ambulance sirens in the distance.

          "What? Hey, absolutely not," the sheriff argued. "This is a crime scene. We call the coroner."

          Deaton furrowed his eyebrows, looking up at the man in disbelief, "I think the coroner might be very confused by this girl's severed reptilian tail."

          The two continued to argue, Stiles zoned it out at he looked down at his girlfriend. He hadn't seen her look this weak and fragile since she was in the hospital because of Violet. He wanted to punch and scream. He wanted to know who had hurt her and make them pay. He felt so weak for just sitting there.

          "Dad, he's right," Stiles urged, knowing that they had to make a decision fast. He tuned out the rest of the conversation at the sight of Joan's eyes beginning to flutter. She scrunched her face, searing pain slamming against her skull. Her left arm felt numb, but she was still able to flex her fingers.

          She slowly opened her eyes to see Stiles' worried face looking down at her. She tried to sit up but she was too weak. "Hey, hey. It's alright. You're alright. Take it easy," Stiles urged, holding her down and helping her relax onto him. "Do you remember what happened? Did Tracy do this to you?"

          "I– I don't know," Joan croaked, her mind completely blank. Panic filled her eyes as she realized that Lydia was still hurt and that she didn't know if Tracy had stopped. "Is Lydia alright? Did Malia save Tracy?"

          Stiles sighed, clasping Joan's hand tightly, "Lydia's fine, an ambulance is on the way. Malia's alright too... Tracy, uh, Tracy didn't make it."

          Joan's mouth opened, but nothing came out. She was shocked to hear that Tracy was dead. "It wasn't me," Malia urged, falling beside the two and looking at Joan with pleading eye. "I didn't do it. These men. They injected her with something."

          Joan softly nodded, forcing a smile on her exhausted face, "I believe you." Malia deflated, glad that Joan didn't think she was crazy. 

          Fatigue overcame Joan once more, causing her head to lull against Stiles' chest. "Joan? Stay awake for me, okay? Stay awake!" Stiles urged, lightly shaking her. Joan groaned, her hand dropping from his as she fell unconscious once more. Before anything else could be said or done, Theo ran into view to inform them that the ambulance had arrived. A shocked expression appeared on his face at the sight of Joan.

          "Is she alright?" he asked.

          Stiles rolled his eyes, ignoring the werewolf he hated so much. Without hesitation, he hoasted Joan into his arm bridal style and ran past Theo. Upon entering the lobby, Stiles yelled for help. A paramedic rushed over to the two, beginning to check on Joan's vitals.

          "Please help her," Stiles begged, tears welling in his eyes as the paramedic guided him to the ambulance. Stiles and the paramedic laid Joan onto a gurney and rolled her into the ambulance alongside Lydia.

          "We'll do everything we can," the paramedic responded, beginning to climb into the ambulance. "I don't have enough room to let you on."

          Stiles nodded his head, shakily taking his car keys out of his pocket. The paramedic nodded, sending him a reassuring smile before closing the doors to the ambulance. Stiles watched as the vehicle surged away, its sirens wailing. Stiles looked down at his hands, noticing some of Joan's blood was beginning to dry. He clenched his hands into fists, hoping to reduce how badly they were shaking.

          His gaze shifted to the police station before he turned on his heels. He ran to his Jeep and attempted to turn it on. Once the engine was running, he slammed his hand on the horn to alert Kira, Malia, and Scott to get in. His foot bounced against the floor of the car, anxiety riddling him the longer he was away from Joan.

          "Come on!" Stiles yelled, waving the three over to the car so they could leave. Theo appeared behind them, waiting for permission to come along. Stiles groaned, too focused on his girlfriend to care about whether Theo joined them. "Get in the car!" 

          Stiles didn't wait for them to buckle their seat belts before he was zooming out of the parking lot. His heart raced as they sped through the streets of Beacon Hills. He hoped that Joan and Lydia were alright. He needed to see it with his own eyes to relieve the crushing panic in his chest.