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CHAPTER FIVE;

WEREWOLF THUNDER DOME

"She's not dead!"

Sage let out a deep sigh, leaning her head on the back of Stiles' shoulder as she felt exhaustion hit her. She was sitting on top of one of the operation tables alongside Isaac. It had been fifteen minutes of Derek refusing to believe that Erica was dead, and in that fifteen minutes they had gotten no further in trying to find the one person that was actually alive. Boyd was still at the bank somewhere, and she would rather take the chance of finding him and confirming whether he's alive or dead than just giving up all together.

Stiles, also fed up with Derek's denial, spat out, "Derek, he said, 'there's a dead body, it's Erica.' That doesn't exactly leave us much room for interpretation."

"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?" Derek reiterated, his eyebrows raising as he tried to find any solid evidence that would support his case in believing that Erica was still alive.

Sage's head lifted up from Stiles' shoulder. "Maybe they took another werewolf."

"Why would they take another werewolf?" Derek questioned, anger lacing in his words.

The blonde shrugged her shoulders, rubbing her eyes as she tried to get rid of the utter defeat that was growing stronger. While she was borderline irritated at the way Derek acted earlier, she also knew that she couldn't just push aside the main problem like she had grown used to. However, the sleep deprivation wasn't going to have their minds functioning any better to find the answers. "I don't know, Derek. Why did they take two werewolves in the first place?"

"Your sarcasm isn't helpful in this situation, Sage."

Sage narrowed her eyes on him. "Neither is your denial to believe the truth."

"Look," Scott interrupted, trying to stop the bickering between Derek and Sage. "Maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle, okay? The one that saved you, Isaac."

Isaac shook his head, dismissing the idea immediately. "No, she wasn't like us, and whoever was in the vault with Boyd was."

Sage's eyebrows furrowed, and she sat up a bit as she evaluated Isaac's words. She hadn't really thought about it before, aside from when she was referencing the rabid wolves, but she never really intercepted the ideas of gladiators and werewolves. When, in reality, that could be exactly what was happening. It's a fight for survival, only the strongest will survive."Guys. What if that's how Erica died? They pit them against each other during the full moons and see which one survives. Survival of the fittest."

"That's like werewolf thunder dome," Stiles quipped, although there wasn't much humor in his voice. It was an actual comment on her theory, just his usual dosage of sarcasm already laced in the words. Sage didn't even find it in herself to scold him.

Derek frowned, looking between everyone. "Then we get them out tonight."

"Be smart about this Derek," Deaton commented for the first time, glancing back towards the Alpha. "You can't just go storming in."

"If Isaac got in then so can we."

"But he didn't get through a vault door, did he?"

Scott stepped forward. "We need a plan."

"Yes, because our last plan went so well," Sage said, gesturing towards Isaac who's lips were still slightly blue, curls damp on his forehead. "How in the hell are we going to break into a bank vault in less than twenty-four hours? You idiots could barely break into the ice rink last year."

"Uh, I think somebody already did," Stiles answered, his phone in his hand as he read off an article. "'Beacon Hills First National Bank closes its doors three months after vault robbery.' It doesn't say here how it was robbed, but it probably won't take long to find out."

"How long?"

Stiles scoffed. "It's the internet, Derek. Minutes."

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When Sheriff Stilinski walked through the door of his son's bedroom, he hadn't expected to find his son lounged on the ground, face implanted on the ground, ass in the air as papers stuck to his cheek. He didn't expect to find Scott awkwardly angled in Stiles' desktop chair, looking as if someone had just ran him over, and he most definitely didn't expect to find Sage asleep on Stiles' bed, half of her body on the end as she looked about ready to completely fall off and land on top of her boyfriend. Papers were still printing, and Sheriff let out a sigh, shaking his head.

"Guys," Sheriff called out. When there was no response, he tried a bit louder. "Hey, time to wake up. Guys. Guys!"

At once, all three jolting to life, although the angles that they were all in ended up badly. Like Sheriff Stilinski predicted, Sage ended up falling off of the bed and landed directly on Stiles' back. The two both let out groans in unison, Sage burying her head deep into Stiles' neck while Scott tried to adjust himself properly in the chair.

"I've got to get to work," Sheriff announced, watching as Sage slowly shoved herself up and off of Stiles, grumbling cuss words at him when he accidentally hit her in the face with his palm. "You three, get to school."

"Am I able to drop out yet?" Sage questioned, using the bed as her support system while attempting to stand up. She didn't even want to see what she looked like, most likely worse than the girl from The Grudge.

Sheriff Stilinski snorted on his way out the door. "You know we wouldn't let you!"

"Who's 'we'?" Sage asked, having to raise her voice despite the growing headache that she was getting.

"Melissa and I!"

Sage shrugged, figuring he had a point. Derek probably wouldn't give a shit either way, it would be Sheriff and Melissa that actually did something about it. So, her plan to drop out of school went down the drain. Now she was just wishing she didn't decide to be a good friend last night and stay up with Stiles and Scott. She should have just gone home with Isaac and Derek and slept in her bed like a normal person, not sprawled off a bed in between sections of old articles.

"And Stiles?" Sheriff called, right before he completely left the room. His playful tone dropped, and he frowned slightly. "Your friend, Heather, people reported her missing after her party. I just thought you should know. We have an APB out on her after asking her family about it. I'll let you know if the station finds anything."

Stiles sat up straighter, his eyebrows furring. "What do you mean she's missing?"

"No one can find her," his dad replied, before immediately continuing with, "but we will. I promise. I've got to go, but I'll see you guys later."

Sage kept quiet the entire time that the conversation happened, mostly because she wasn't sure what she could say. On one hand, she wasn't exactly sad over the thought of Heather being missing, but that made her a horrible person so she knew she should be feeling something. She felt sorry for Stiles, if anything. She didn't enjoy the idea of him having to experience the loss of a friend. One that he's known for so long, too.

Stiles shuffled around before getting to his feet, standing next to Sage as he flung around a few papers that stuck to his clothes. "Ten hours and nothing."

"We'll find something," Scott assured, nodding his head.

Sage shook her head. "Yeah, well, finding something doesn't make Erica any less dead, or Boyd any less about-to-be dead."

Scott, ever the optimist, frowned. "We still have time."

She liked to believe that she and Scott balanced each other out. Where she was the one to believe everyone was about to die, Scott just grew more convinced that there was a chance they could be saved. Two different perspectives, a wide range in personalities. She saw the worst in people and he saw the best. He was probably the only person in the room that kept a positive mindset about this whole thing. Stiles and Sage were way past pissed at this point.

"Is this whole, like, 'remain-optimistic-in-the-face-of-complete-and-utter-disaster' thing a part of be a better Scott McCall program?" Sage asked, raising her eyebrows as she looked over at her friend. She questioned her friendship with him sometimes, so much actually. Just as much as she questioned her relationship with Stiles.

"Uh," Scott began, looking down with a small smile on his face. "Not if it doesn't work."

Stiles, who had been snickering at his girlfriend's reaction, stared down at the paper in his hand and his eyes widened. "No, no. It works." Shoving the piece of paper in Scott's chest, he moved past Sage to shout at his exiting father. "Dad! Dad!"

Sage and Scott watched as Stiles left, before moving to glance over at the article to see what had him so worked up.

On the front of the article, a large picture had been blown up with an image of Sheriff Stilinski arresting the culprit of the robbery that happened in the Beacon Hills Bank. That was when Sage and Scott gave each other the same look before rushing after Stiles, trying to get the one resource they've had this entire time to stop and explain.

Then, they had to go face high school.

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Sage had never been so tired in her life.

As she was getting out of Stiles' jeep, her boyfriend graciously helping her, she could feel her whole body begin to shut down and she hadn't even made it inside the school yet. There was no way she was going to last all day without falling asleep, or just collapsing in the middle of the hall. That actually seemed like the best idea at the moment. She literally needed Stiles to drag her just so she could get into the movement of her feet.

She was a bitch when she didn't have at least nine hours of sleep, and she was pretty sure that she only got two and a half last night. If that. She couldn't exactly tell from when her back was sprawled along the bed, making her look like she was having an exorcism right in the middle of Stiles' bedroom. She felt like she just drank her body weight in alcohol.

Everything was heightened for her, especially when Scott's voice boomed to her right. "Alright, so we meet at Derek's at five to go over the plan and then we don't get started until dark."

"Okay, so what do we do until then?" Stiles asked, intertwining his fingers with Sage's as he pulled her closer to his body. She mumbled out, wishing she could just go hide, but she knew that she had to be a normal teenager for once and hate her life by going to shitty school.

"Right now? We've got English," Scott noted, nodding his head as he looked over at he couple.

Sage moaned in protest. "I hate English."

"You hate everything," Stiles remarked, rolling his eyes at his girlfriend as he tugged open the door for her. Scott snickered, knowing fairly well that Stiles was right. Sage did hate everything, almost all of the time.

She turned to him and gave him a grin. "I don't hate you. Most of the time."

"Most of the time?"

"Yeah," Sage agreed, nodding her head. "Sometimes, I really do hate you, though."

"The feeling is mutual," Stiles commented, sending her a smirk as Scott and him followed her to her locker. She was the closest to English class, and she was the person that shoved her back pack and everything into her locker at the end of the day instead of just taking it home.

Scott, from beside the two, snorted. "I swear, you guys are so confusing."

"So is you being a werewolf," Sage retorted, grabbing her stuff before slamming her locker shut.

She grabbed a hold of Stiles' hand again, and they all went in the direction of English class. She wondered where Lydia and Allison were, or what they had done themselves last night while she was drowning Isaac. She hasn't really had much of a chance to talk to them about anything ever since she got back on good terms with Stiles. It seems like the supernatural has swallowed her chances of being a teenage girl all over again.

"Don't say the world in public," Scott muttered, glancing around to make sure no one noticed.

"Oh, Scott, we are so past that."

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Two shitty plans.

Two shitty nights.

First, they shove Isaac into a bathtub filled with ice water, and secondly, they're going to break into an abandoned bank that has already been broken into. Of which, the robbers got arrested and faced charges that ruined their lives forever. To be honest, the last thing that Sage was concerned about was getting arrested. She was more nervous about the whole Alpha pack and full moon part of the plan. She wasn't extremely comfortable knowing that two werewolves — Scott and Derek — were going to be out and about while two other werewolves — Boyd and Werewolf-Girl-In-Vault-With-Boyd — were struggling not to kill each other.

Stiles had dropped a large blueprint of the bank down on the table sectioned in between their stairs and in front of the huge window. It was originally supposed to be their dining room table where they ate, but it's never been put to use seeing as though no one in the house cooked and no one had time to actually sit down and eat. So, for right now, it was being used to deviate a plan.

Plus, she couldn't exactly see herself, Isaac, and Derek all sitting around a table for a family meal considering, even if they wanted to, the remaining seats of the table would be empty. You know, considering everyone with the same last name as each of them is dead. Or evil.

"You see this?" Stiles asked, glancing between Scott and Derek who were looking over his shoulders. His hand was pointed on a part of the blueprint. "This is how they got in. It's a rooftop air conditioning vent, leads down inside into the wall vault, which is right here." He circled a part of the labeled words.

Sage stared at him confused, her mouth wide as she tried to figure out what any of this meant. Clearly, she didn't do construction. Or anything that involved building for that matter; that's why what everything Stiles said made no sense to her. Naturally, she chose to just listen and not interrupt the boy.

"One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft. Now, that space is so small it took them about twelve hours to drill into that wall, which is stone, by the way. Then, throughout the rest of the night, they sent the cash back up to the guys on the roof through that one little shaft in the wall," Stiles explained, making various markings on the blueprint to act as a visual aid.

"Can we fit in there?" Scott asked, his lip curling up as he himself tried to process what the hell Stiles just said.

"Yes." Stiles nodded. "We can. Very, very barely; and they patched the wall, obviously, so we're going to need a drill of some kind. I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit—"

"Forget the drill," Derek interrupted.

Stiles whipped his head around to face the werewolf. "Sorry?"

"If I go in first, how much space do I have?"

"What do you think you're doing to do, Derek?" Stiles questioned, raising his eyebrows. "You going to punch through the wall?"

Sage watched them, and let out a snort before looking back towards the blueprint. The last thing she cared about was Stiles questioning Derek's superiority complex. She knew that he could bust through the wall, Stiles should know that by now, too.

"Yes," Derek confirmed. "I'm going to punch through the wall."

"Okay, big guy. Let's see it. Let's see that fist. That big, 'ole fist. Come on, get it out," Stiles ushered, waiting and watching as Derek slowly clenched his hand into a fist, holding it up for Stiles to see. "There, don't be scared. Big, bad wolf. Yeah. Look at that. You see this? It's maybe three inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid—"

Before Stiles could finish his sentence, his whole body was practically flying into the table as Derek punched Stiles' hand. Sage rolled her eyes, knowing that that was going to be the outcome all along. Another thing that was annoying her is the ever so present existence of Peter Hale, who was lingering in her home and bringing along the stench of evil. She hated him. She would literally wish death for him right now, or an eternity of torture.

Stiles let out a few screeches in pain before struggling out the words, "He can do it."

"I'll get through the wall," Derek confirmed, watching as Stiles continued to grasp his hand. After a while, it got old and he looked between Scott and Peter. "Who's following me down?"

"Don't look at me," Peter said, shaking his head. "I'm not up to fighting speed yet, and honestly? With Isaac out of commission, you're not looking at very good odds for yourself."

Sage turned to look at him, glaring with hatred. "Why are you even breathing right now? Can you go back to hell or something?"

"Oh, princess. Where's the fun in that?" he replied, raising his eyebrows as he grinned over at her. Sage curled her lip in disgust before returning to look back at Derek. He looked to be in deep conflict with himself, and she was seriously about to ask if he was okay when he shook his head.

"So I'm supposed to just let them die?" Derek snapped over at Peter.

Peter shrugged. "One of them is already dead."

"We don't know that."

"Do I have to remind you what we're up against here? A pack of Alphas. All of them are killers. If that's not enough to scare your testicles back into your stomach, try to remember that two of them combine bodies to form one giant Alpha. I'm sure Erica and Boyd are sweet kids and they are going to be missed."

Sage gripped tightly onto the table, feeling her temper hit a thin line. Although, she wasn't exactly sure for who, whether it be the twins or Erica and Boyd. "You don't know anything about them, Peter. So I suggest you shut up. Or I can just kill you. Again."

The former Alpha stared at her quizzically, as if trying to figure out who 'them' had been in her sentence. He didn't know she used to be in a relationship with one-half of the giant Alpha, he'd been recovering from the fire at the time. The only way for him to know would have been for Derek to tell him, and she highly doubted that he did that. Derek knew how sensitive the topic of Aiden was, it hadn't been brought up much in the time span of the relationship actually happening and present day.

Of course, until now.

Peter shook his head over at Derek. "Seriously, not worth the risk."

"What about you?" Derek asked, looking to his left.

Stiles, thinking that it was him being questioned, immediately replied. "Yeah, if you want me to come I can—"

"Not you," Derek huffed, closing his eyes before looking over at Scott.

"Oh. Scott."

Everyone looked over at Scott, and noticed the sullen look on his face. "I don't know about Erica, but if Boyd's still alive, we have to do something. We have to try."

Sage noticed that his sentence was left off a bit short, and stood up straight. "But?"

"Who's the other girl? The one locked in there with Boyd?"

Derek paused before pushing off of the end of the table. "I guess we'll find out. We need to go. The moon is going to be coming out soon, and we need to get there as soon as possible."

Sage looked up and over at Scott. When he noticed her gaze, he let out a sigh. He already knew what she was thinking. There was a possibility of Scott ending up hurt, and overall, that wasn't going to end well for either party. Sage wasn't really in the mood for being impaled by wolf claws, or get bitten by canines, so she would rather Scott try his hardest not to injure himself tonight.

"Please don't die," Sage begged. "Or receive any bodily harm that could potentially murder both of us in the process. I really don't have the energy to sit and wait for a scratch to heal after suffering an hour of Harris' class."

"Is that your way of saying be careful?" Scott asked, pursing his lips as he felt his nerves get the best of him. He was worried, he still had to remember to control himself tonight, but he could manage. Manage better than he used to, anyway.

Sage nodded. "Both of you."

None of them realized they just sent Derek and Scott into a real life werewolf thunder dome.

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Sage continued to pace along the floor, pulling her hair in and out of a ponytail every few seconds to keep herself busy. She was already feeling her worry sink in for Derek and Scott, and she didn't need to be over thinking all of the possible problems that could go wrong. But, she did, and all she could picture was the two werewolves being mauled apart by a pack of alphas. All of them were ruthless. From Deucalion to Ennis, she had seen them all tear out the hearts of those they loved most. Ennis, his girlfriend; Kali, her best friend; Aiden, her.

She didn't need Boyd trying to hurt the two either. There was less of a possibility of that happening but she wasn't sure at this point. The girl in the room could easily take Scott while Boyd grabbed Derek. These thoughts continued to haunt her as she watched the full moon slowly take effect in the night.

"Could you please stop pacing? You wreak of nerves," Peter asked from his place on the couch.

Sage's head whipped around and she glared at the man, moving to walk forward only for a hand to grab a hold of her waist, pulling her back so that she wasn't progressing on killing the Alpha. She was stuck in Derek's loft with Stiles and Peter, and she was just begging to murder the man and hide his body before anyone noticed.

No one would miss him. No one loved him.

"No, Stiles," Sage whined, struggling to break free. "Let me kill him."

Peter watched, amused at the girl. "Oh, you don't want to kill me, Sage. I know too much about you to be killed."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Sage spat, falling still in Stiles' arms as she looked at Peter. She didn't think he knew anything about her. He lost the privilege of being a part of her life the second that he set out on killing everyone in their town. She wasn't going to allow him to be anything to her, and he hadn't been ever since she was a little girl.

"Just that you don't know everything about who you are."

"And you do?" Sage questioned, raising her eyebrows. "What do you know about me, Peter? Nothing. You know nothing about me because you were too engrossed on murdering people to actually try and be a part of my life again. I'm not that little girl anymore. You can't push me around."

"Such a spitfire," Peter commented, his eyes lighting up as he watched her. "Just like Mallory."

"Don't you dare say her name!" Sage shouted, moving to go forward again only for Stiles to tighten his grip. She huffed out, trying to calm herself down. Over the summer, she tried to cleanse herself of all memories involving her mother, her father, and her brother. Ever since Deaton told her something about her mother, she wondered if anything they said her was true.

"Fine, I won't say her name," Peter agreed, raising his hands up in surrender.

Sage felt Stiles pull her back a bit more, trying to get her to let her guard down. "Come on, Sage, he's not worth it."

"He's not worth anything," Sage reiterated, crossing her arms over her chest as she moved to stare out the window, towards the full moon. Seeing it only made her question whether or not what Isaac said last night was true. "Do you think Erica's actually dead?"

She wasn't going to lie and say she wasn't sad about it. She was. Although Erica was a bitch at first, and every time they had a conversation she felt like plunging knives into the girl, she didn't want to find the girl dead. The beta had saved Sage's life, putting her own in danger in the process. She also knew that Erica just wanted to be a normal teenage girl, and she had been deprived of that her whole life because of being epileptic. Sage couldn't help but hope that they were wrong.

"I don't know," Stiles honestly replied. "I just...I don't understand the bank though. Why wouldn't they just chain them up in some underground lair or something? They're an Alpha pack, right? So shouldn't they have a lair?"

"They're werewolves, not Bond villains," Peter called out from the other side of the room. Sage looked back to see that his eyes were closed and he looked completely fine with the idea of his nephew going into a possible murder scene. Although, that said nephew had ripped out his jugular.

Stiles' eyes began to wide and he started to walk forward as he spoke. "Wait a sec, what if they're living there, y'know? Maybe the bank vault reminds them of their little wolf dens!"

"Wolf dens?" Sage and Peter asked in unison.

"Yeah! Wolf dens!" He turned around to face the werewolf. "Where do you live?"

Peter sighed. "In an underground network of caves hidden deep in the woods."

Sage groaned while Stiles let out a, "Whoa, really?"

"No, you idiot," Peter retorted, snickering at the teenage boy's gullibility. "I live in an apartment downtown."

"Okay, fine. That just proves that there is still something up with the bank. And why wait around for the full moon, huh? Why not just kill them whenever they want to?" Stiles asked, his hands raising in large gestures as he stood in front of Peter, glancing over at Sage to send her the same question.

Sage gaped at him. "Maybe they think it's poetic."

"They already had three full moons to be poetic, Sage."

Peter huffed out, his head still up against the back of the couch as he attempted to rest. "And here you and your girlfriend have only had one full hour to be so annoyin—"

The man stopped his sentence, lifting his head up like something big just sunk in about the situation. Stiles, who obviously didn't read the signs, spoke up. "No, go ahead, finish what you were saying. I'm annoy...I'm annoyin—"

"What are the walls made of?" Peter abruptly asked, completely sitting straight as he looked over at Sage. Her back went straighter too, realizing where he was going. Immediately, she began to shift through her bag to try and find the dozens of papers that Stiles insisted they kept from last night.

All while the two were onto something, Stiles was oblivious. "I don't know, like stone and brick..."

"No, the vault. The walls, what are they made out of?" He asked, grabbing some of the papers in Sage's hand so that he could look through them as well. Stiles was completely confused, wondering why the two were so frantic to find something that didn't seem to be that important. "Where would it say that?"

"Stiles, we need to find what type of stone the walls are made out of," Sage pleaded, looking at her boyfriend for a split second before ripping through another few pieces of paper. Packets upon packets, Peter and Sage continued to shift through more until Stiles began to help.

Only a few seconds later did Stiles shout out, "There! That's it!"

"Hecatolite," Sage muttered, closing her eyes as she whispered out a small, "Damn it."

"What? Is that awful? That sounds awful."

Sage looked up and struggled to pull her phone from her pocket. She pressed Derek's number, just as she turned around quickly to face Stiles. "Call Scott! Now! Get him on the phone!"

"Okay, okay. Why?" Stiles asked, raising his eyebrows. He didn't understand what was so seriously alarming about what the walls were made out of, but clearly the other two did. Sage's breathing was falling out of control, and she was stepping back into her pace as she cussed out Derek through the phone, praying that he would actually pick up his phone.

Peter glanced over at the distressed blonde, before answering Stiles. "Because Boyd and that girl aren't going to kill each other. They're going to kill Derek and Scott."

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Sage felt like she was going to throw up as all three of them stood around Stiles' phone, waiting for Scott to pick up. She was still desperately trying to call Derek, but that idea seemed useless at this point because he wasn't answering. Their only hope at this point was having Scott pick up the damn phone and get the hell out of the vault before Derek and himself got murdered.

Finally, he answered. "Stiles, this isn't the best time right now—"

"Scott! Scott, you've got to listen to me! You need to get out of there!" Stiles rushed, trying to get Scott to shut up and listen. "The walls are of the vault are made of a mineral called Hecatolite. It scatters the moonlight."

"And what does that mean?"

Sage leaned in closer so she could explain. "Scott, it keeps the moonlight out, okay? They haven't felt a full moon in months. Think of it like the gladiators in the Roman Colosseum," Sage began, using her example from earlier. "they used to stock the lions for three days to make them more vicious and out of control."

"Deucalion has kept them from shifting for three full moons," Peter added, venom spitting through his words. "Diminishing their tolerance to it."

"Scott, they're going to be stronger!" Stiles called out, all of their voices blurring together as they tried to explain everything to Scott before he did something stupid.

Sage didn't take a breath before continuing, "More savage, more blood-thirsty. They're the lions, Scott. They're the stocked lions and you and Derek just stepped into the Colosseum."

From the other end of the phone, you could hear the small vibrations ringing through the phone, resembling a growl. Then, Scott's voice broke through. "Derek, we have a problem. A very big problem."

It went quiet for a few seconds after that, the silence enough to cause Stiles and Sage to panic. Silence wasn't good, silence meant that something was happening and silence meant that they weren't speaking and letting the others know they were alive. Stiles' face contorted into pure horror and he brought the phone closer to his mouth. "Scott? Scott!"

"Scott? Scott! Are you hearing this? Scott!" Sage shouted, trying to hear through all of the growls and blurred sounds. The line went flat, and the three stood there for a few seconds to try and figure out what the hell they were going to do. Sage felt a lump form in her throat. "We have to go find them. We need to go. We need to—"

Sage couldn't even finish her sentence before she felt a sharp pain in her hip. Hissing out in pain, she stumbled into Peter on accident, where he grabbed a hold of her upper arms to steady her. Scott had been slashed, she knew before she ever even pulled up her tank top. There was another dull sting gravitating around her back side, but she could barely even think about it.

"They're going to die," Sage managed to spit out as Stiles and Peter wrapped her arms around their shoulders so that they could get her onto the couch. She flinched, but sat down and waited for more blows to reciprocate on her body.

Everything went still for a second, Stiles watching as his girlfriend looked pained, only able to hold her hand while she experienced it. That's all he could do, and that's all he would ever be able to do. Then, suddenly, Sage was grabbing hard onto Stiles as she held her stomach, a small cry falling through her lips. Peter stood off to the side, his eyes calculating as he stared at the blonde wither in pain.

Sage shot forward suddenly, and stared at them.

"Someone's dead."

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