┌─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┐
chapter two!
TAKE ME TO CHURCH
└─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┘

( the dark moon, pt. ii )

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

DOMINIC ALMOST TOPPLES BACK from shock. He places a hand on Stiles's shoulder to catch himself before his backside can touch the wet floor, ice-cold trepidation instantly flooding his veins.

Stiles, meanwhile, is in denial. His words fly from his mouth at the speed of light. "That's impossible. It's impossible! That can't be what he said.

"Why?" Malia asks, her eyes flickering between the boys' negative reactions. "Who — who's Kate?"

"She's a hunter," Stiles explains. "An Argent."

"So... this is bad news, then," Malia says.

"Yes," Stiles confirms. "Very bad news."

The worst of it is over. It turns out that Aaraya had been holding them captive for no reason. She'd known where Derek was all along, but wanted Scott to figure out who'd taken him for himself. Apparently it had been some test. Dominic is just grateful that Scott had passed, because his grades kind of suck.

"Why won't she just tell us where the hell Derek is so we can get out of here?" Dom mutters while they wait for Aaraya to finish talking to Scott. The group leans against Stiles's powder blue Jeep, antsy to get out of the hunters' territory yet trying not to show it.

Vera shakes her head. "Hunters don't have a track record for being quick and to the point."

"I just don't feel like we're out of their clutches yet."

"That tends to happen. Exhibit A: our current situation."

Vera's expression is sour as she kicks her boot against the car. Dom can't blame her for her bitter mood— learning that Kate is alive after almost a year of thinking she's dead is jarring. Seeing what happened to her hadn't been pleasant, per se, but at least her crimes had caught up to her. They could rest knowing that one less threat was out to get them.

When Scott finally turns away from Aaraya, Stiles meets him halfway and asks, "So, what now?"

"She thinks she knows where we can find Derek," Scott replies.

"She gonna tell us where?" Malia questions.

"Uh, actually, she's giving us a guide."

The rumble of an engine causes them to look at the end of the street. A figure on a motorcycle rounds the corner and almost runs straight into Stiles, causing him to flinch and hold out a hand. Before the tire can touch him, though, the bike slows to a stop and the person cuts the engine, stopping the dust from pelting their calves.

Upon removing the helmet, she reveals herself to be a young woman, probably in her mid-to-late twenties, with glossy curls and dark skin. Three grisly claw marks scar her neck. Evidently, a werewolf had tried to kill her and hadn't succeeded.

"You know her?" Stiles asks Scott, noticing the surprise on his face.

"Braeden," Scott replies.

Vera tenses beside Dominic, obviously recognizing the name. He doesn't find this woman familiar whatsoever. He guesses he'd missed her part in... whatever slice of hell she'd been involved with in Beacon Hills.

"Who's Braeden?" Malia asks.

"She's a mercenary," Lydia answers.

Braeden's voice is matter-of-fact when she adds, "Right now, I'm the only one who's gonna take you to La Iglesia."

Lydia's brows furrow. "The Church?"

"What's 'The Church?'" Stiles questions.

"It's not a place you'll find God."

After Braeden gives instructions to follow her, but gives no further explanation about their destination, they hit the road. Stiles's Jeep only fits five. As a result, Vera and Kira, the smallest and third-smallest in the group (Lydia had almost whacked Stiles when he'd suggested she sit on the floor while in a dress), are crammed in the back. Since he feels every bump on the uneven dirt road, he can't imagine how they must feel.

Malia leans forward until her elbows rest on the center console between Scott and Stiles. "Okay, I'll ask. Who's Kate Argent?"

Kira raises her hand. "Uh, I'd like to know, too..."

"Well, we were at her funeral," Stiles says, "so I'd like to know how she got out of a casket that was buried six feet underground."

"She was never in it," Scott realizes.

Lydia sighs, attempting to provide some real information other than the vague nonsense the boys are spewing. "She was Allison's aunt. And a total sociopath."

Dominic glances back at Vera to find her staring pointedly out the back window. She doesn't offer anything to the conversation, and he can't blame her for not wanting to take part in it.

"Back in '05, she and a few other hunters set fire to the Hale house, killing everyone inside except for Derek, his two sisters, and his uncle Peter," Dominic adds.

Though the memories have gotten murky after almost seven years, he still remembers how Vera hadn't stopped crying for almost a month straight. Her mother had tried to locate the three Hale siblings, but they'd assumed Cora was dead, and Derek and Laura fled to New York. She checked Peter into a care home since he was comatose and half-covered in burn scars. Her mom has never been the same since; after the death of her husband a few years before the fire, she'd been solemn and tearful. But with her best friend gone and the children displaced, she grew distant and often went away on business trips. Vera spent a lot of time at Dominic's house as a result.

Dom continues, "It goes strictly against the hunter code. Then Peter ripped her throat out. But they say if the claws go deep enough, someone can turn."

"That's what Deucalion was afraid of when he slashed my dad's throat," Vera says, her voice so quiet it's almost inaudible. Her eyes stay trained on the cloud of dust trailing them. "It's why he also disemboweled him."

"Jesus Christ," Stiles whispers with a cringe. Though what happened to Daniel Pérez isn't new to him, its sheer callousness and morbidity never fail to make people shudder.

Scott explains what he'd learned from Aaraya. "The Calaveras heard that Kate had been killed by an Alpha's claws. They wanted to make sure she was really dead. Her body was healing, more and more, as she got closer to the full moon. She was coming back. So, they switched the bodies. If a Hunter is bit, they have to take their own life before they change. The Calaveras... they treat the Code like law. They make it their responsibility to enforce it."

"Good for her!" Malia says emphatically. "I wouldn't do it, either."

"Would you kill a half-dozen people to get out?" Scott asks. "Because that's what she did."

"So, Kate's a Werewolf now?" Kira asks.

"I don't know. You know, there's a saying... Sometimes, the shape you take reflects the person you are."

Lydia scoffs. "What kind of shape is sociopathic bitch?"

The moment she finishes her sentence, something bangs into the side of the Jeep, causing Stiles to curse and swerve to the side of the road. Braeden circles around and stops near them just as Stiles flings himself out of the car to check the damage.

"What happened?" she asks.

"I don't know! It felt like we hit something," Stiles replies.

"I'll take any excuse to get out of here," Vera grumbles and opens the trunk, allowing her and Kira to jump to freedom.

Dom shares an exasperated glance with Lydia. They'd only taken the Jeep because it was big enough to fit two additional people in the back, but it's notorious for not working, and being stranded in Mexico is not his idea of having a good time.

He climbs out of the car, coughing at the dust that immediately flies into his face. It's windier without the protection of buildings surrounding them, and clouds of dirt surround them. His black pants start to turn sepia-toned.

"Scott, we need to get there by night," Braeden says. "It's too dangerous, otherwise."

Scott looks at Stiles for assistance. His best friend holds his gaze for a moment before waving him along. "Go."

"Not without you," Scott argues.

"Dude, someone needs to find Derek. We'll think of something— we always do. Just go."

"Is there any room for two?" Vera asks Braeden. When Dom looks down, he notices that her hand is clenched into a fist. She's probably fighting the urge to start biting her nails.

The mercenary shakes her head. "I've only got one extra seat, and my orders were to get Scott to La Iglesia, so I can't make any swaps."

Vera nods in understanding, though it's easy to see that she's gutted by the information that she has to stay behind. If it were up to her, she'd tear down the church brick by brick just to find Derek.

Noticing her disappointment, Scott places a comforting hand on her arm. "We'll find him. I promise."

Vera gives him a halfhearted nod. "Be careful."

When Scott hops onto the back of Braeden's bike and they start to fade into the distance, she mutters, "La Iglesia puede besarme el culo."

Smoke billows from the hood of the Jeep as Stiles pops it open. He starts doing the usual checkpoints of checking the coolant, the engine, even the windshield wiper fluid, to find the culprit. At this point, anything could be causing the issue. Dominic swears that sometimes the Jeep spontaneously smokes just to spite them.

"Anything I can do?" Dominic asks, coming up on Stiles's side. "I'm not great with cars, but sitting here and watching you struggle is kind of sad."

"Don't touch anything," Stiles tells him when he reaches for a wrench, smacking his hand away. "Just... just stand there and look pretty, okay? Jeez."

Despite the issue, Dom finds himself smiling. "That, I can do."

Malia frowns and crouches near one of the front wheels. There's a loud clattering sound as she wrenches something out from the suspension. "Stiles? I don't think we hit something." She straightens and produces something white and curved with twine wrapped around the middle. "I think something hit us."

Dominic grabs the object from her hands and realizes it's a boomerang. As his thumb runs over the smooth material, something clicks into place. "Is this made out of bone? Oh, fuck no."

He immediately drops it, causing it to smack into the headlights and then hit the ground. Malia snatches it up before it can blow away or something. Dom rubs his hands on his jeans, feeling his palms grow damp with sweat, his heart hammering against his ribs. Someone doesn't want them to make it to the church.

"I knew I should've stayed in California," he says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I knew something terrible was going to happen the moment we knew the town was in a desert. My people have historically not done well in those."

"Calm down," Vera tells him, swatting his shoulder. "You freaking out is not going to make the Jeep magically work." She turns to Stiles and peers down at the inside. "Stiles, let me do something."

Understanding that she needs something to keep her occupied to avoid spiraling herself, Stiles glances at her and then takes the flashlight out of his mouth. "Here. You can hold this."

"Ew." Vera scrunches her nose in disgust, trying to hold the thing by a spot that doesn't have his saliva on it.

"I could hold the flashlight," Dom offers. He's not very deterred by spit — one, because Stiles is his boyfriend, and two, because he has younger siblings who have drooled all over him as babies — and would also like something to focus on that isn't the bone boomerang.

"Great. Both of you can hold the flashlight. It can be a team effort." Stiles's words fire out of his mouth without even looking at them, his words impatient yet distracted as he focuses on finding the problem.

Vera and Dominic take the hint and shut up, both of them holding the flashlight in silence.

As the sun starts to set, painting them in the amber glow of a waning evening, Lydia proposes a solution. "Maybe we should just walk."

"Hey." Stiles waves a wrench at her back, punctuating each of his syllables with it, "I will never abandon this Jeep! You understand me? Ever. Ever. Ever."

Dominic is almost certain that if it came down to him or the Jeep, Stiles would choose the Jeep. He looks down at the blue hunk of metal that his boyfriend prizes more than him and sighs. If he dies because they refused to leave the Jeep behind, he'll spend the entirety of the afterlife annoying Stiles about it.

Malia stands in front of the Jeep like a watchdog, her eyes scanning their surroundings with meticulous attention to detail. "Work faster, Stiles. There's something out here with us."

—

Despite Malia's warning, the sun sets without another attack, and they're plunged into near-darkness. The only sources of light are the Jeep's headlights and the flashlight in Lydia's wavering hand. As the hours had passed, she, Vera, and Dominic have passed it between the three of them, occasionally swapping out who takes guard duty with Kira and Malia.

Dom leans against the Jeep's grilles with his ankles crossed, watching Stiles tinker. It's quite impressive how long he's hyperfixated on the issue. Normally, it's difficult for anything to retain Stiles's interest for long, especially long and tedious tasks, but when it comes to the Jeep, he'll work until he passes out from exhaustion. Which probably isn't far ahead considering they haven't eaten in ages.

"Lydia, could you please hold the light still for a second?" Stiles asks, his voice tinged with frustration. "It's really hard to see anything if you keep shaking it like that."

"I'm shaking it this way because we're in the middle of nowhere with your broken-down Jeep, and we're being attacked by yet another razor-clawed monster, and I'm terrified!" she hisses.

"Well, just be slightly less terrified."

Lydia narrows her eyes at him in annoyance.

"Here." Dom holds out a palm and lets a small flame dance across his skin. "Does this help?"

Stiles slaps his hand away, then yelps and shakes off the pain of touching the fire. "Are you insane? Putting open flame near my engine? Be more helpful. Hold this."

He pulls out a chunk of metal parts and passes it to Dom. Lydia peers at it curiously. "What is it?"

"I don't know. I'm hoping it's not important."

Lydia and Dominic share a look that says, We're going to die.

Kira approaches with her katana and holds it close to the headlight, using her blade to refract the light and illuminate their surroundings more clearly. She stiffens when something catches her eye. "Did you see that?"

Vera, who had been dozing with her head resting against the driver's side door, snaps awake. She blinks and squints at the brush in front of them in search of a threat. Dominic turns, trying to find anything, but becoming a phoenix hasn't given him better eyesight.

Malia releases a roar and sprints toward a rock near the side of the road.

"Malia, wait!" Kira cries, following after her.

"Hey, Malia!" Stiles almost jumps down from the hood, but Lydia cries, "Kira, go! You — fix the Jeep. Stiles, focus!"

Malia is not the only impulsive one in their group, so Dominic locks his eyes on Vera and tells her, "Don't even think about it."

Vera groans and rubs her eyes with her fists. "I couldn't even follow them if I tried. My contacts are drying out. I can't see shit."

That makes him relax. It's not that he thinks Vera isn't capable of fending for herself, it's mostly that Malia's dirty fighting skills might work better in this situation. Plus, Kira's sword allows her to keep some distance between her and her opponents.

Stiles works harder, grunting with the effort of tightening loose ends and shifting things around. The only sounds are his noises of exertion and the tinkering of his wrench for several long moments. Then, the engine sputtering to life catches them all by surprise. Stiles blinks, taking a moment to register it, then whoops in excitement before hopping to the ground.

"Oh, thank God," Lydia says, tossing the flashlight into Stiles's toolkit.

They load up the car again so that the moment Kira and Malia return, they can take off. Vera volunteers to stay in the back so Kira can have an actual seat. Dom takes shotgun.

The seconds pass agonizingly slowly until the girls appear from the side of the canyon, their figures covered in dust. Lydia flings the back door open to allow them in. Malia's gasps suggest that whatever fight they'd had did not end well. When he turns, he sees a gash in her side that has torn her purple top.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine," Malia says, waving off his concern. "I'll heal. Just stings."

"What was it?" Vera questions.

"No idea. But it's huge. And fast."

Stiles steers them back on their way with no consideration that the vehicle could break down again at any moment. He probably hasn't driven this thing gently since the moment he got it. Dom tries not to hold his breath every time they pass over a bump, but he can't help it.

"What are we going to do without Braeden?" Vera asks.

"I can track their scents," Malia replies.

"You can do that even with them moving so fast and after a few hours?"

"Yeah. I've got this."

Since she's probably used this skill countless times while she was a coyote, Dom has faith that she's telling the truth. This is one ability she's confident in.

"Vera, how did you know Braeden?" he asks, remembering the way she'd tensed upon hearing her name. "I don't remember seeing her before."

"She's the one who rescued Isaac from the Alphas last year," Vera answers.

"Who's Isaac?" Malia questions. "I don't remember seeing him at school."

Vera shakes her head. "You wouldn't have. He moved before your first day."

"To where?"

"France."

It's still a sore subject for her. Though Dominic knows that Vera is still in contact with Isaac, she rarely mentions him. She's been pretending that she doesn't feel his absence stronger now that Derek is gone. As the only two remaining out of his original pack, they'd often leaned on each other when times were tough, relying on the supernatural bond that tied them together, and later, their feelings for each other, to push through. But Dominic knows her. She obviously misses him.

Malia opens her mouth to ask more questions, but Kira touches her elbow and shakes her head. Malia obeys, though clearly frustrated, and leans her head back on the headrest to stretch out her abdomen.

"You didn't see anything?" Lydia asks her. It's a smooth change of subject.

"Barely," Malia answers. "It had a strong scent, though."

Stiles's brow furrows. "Like what?"

"Like death."

The rest of the drive to La Iglesia is just as grim as Malia's last bit of news. They drive in silence, struggling to stay awake, the road ahead blurring even though Dominic tries his best not to nod off. He reaches toward the center console with his palm up. A moment later, Stiles takes one hand off the wheel and entwines their fingers, giving him a supportive squeeze.

His nerves are getting worse the closer they get. By the time they enter a dilapidated ghost town full of destroyed buildings half-smothered in mounds of earth, he feels as restless as Vera does at any given moment.

Dread fills his veins at the memory of Lydia's prediction. Not alive, but not dead, either. What could that possibly mean?

He wants to turn around and check Lydia's expression to see if she's sensing any death in this area, but in doing so, he'd probably just give everyone more anxiety. Instead, he rhythmically taps his fingers against the back of Stiles's hand to release some of his energy.

They stop in front of the church, which is mostly in ruins. Crumbled stone barely holds up the structure. It looks more like a tomb than a former place of worship, only heightening Dom's fears as he climbs out of the Jeep.

Scott and Braeden stumble toward them with a male figure held up between them. Relief fills Dominic's veins for a moment— the person's feet are moving, meaning they're alive, but then he stops in his tracks. Something's not right. He doesn't know how he knows, given he hasn't seen the figure's face to confirm that it's Derek, but he just... senses it deep within himself. A firm sense of wrongness radiates in his gut.

Vera runs toward them, leaving the Jeep behind, ignoring the way that Scott is shaking his head and saying, "Wait—" before placing her hand on the figure's shoulder, causing him to lift his head.

She gasps and stumbles backward so hard she almost falls. Dominic rushes forward to catch her under the arms, lifting her back onto her feet. She immediately turns and buries her face into his shoulder. He isn't sure if she's acting out of relief or something else, so he lifts his gaze.

A sixteen-year-old Derek Hale is staring back at him.

_________

a/n:

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH BESTIES

i am SO excited to write the scenes of young!derek with dom and vera because like... this is pre-fire and pre-paige!derek, so he just wants his family, and everyone has to pretend that dominic and vera aren't dominic and vera so derek doesn't freak out. chaos. i love it.

this is the first isaac mention of the book, but i can confirm that it won't be the last. obviously, isaac's departure was a huge deal for her and she isn't going to just forget about it. plus, as i mentioned in MG, they're still going to keep in contact

ps this chapter perfectly aligns with this incorrect quote i made a few years ago:

thank you for reading and i hope you have a fantastic rest of your day!!!

— kristyn

TRANSLATIONS:

La Iglesia puede besarme el culo: The Church can kiss my ass.

( word count: 3.6k )