Daylight was just creeping over the sky as Stiles awoke with a start. His yell of fear or surprise or whatever it was that jolted him out of his dream had me doing the same. I sat up with him to see that he was staring directly ahead out at the murder board I had bought him some time ago. I breathed deeply through my nose as I watched him absentmindedly rub the shoulder that still seemed to be bothering him.

"Did you sleep on it wrong?" I mumbled tiredly, and Stiles' head turned slightly toward me in something I gathered as half-listening.

"Hmm?"

"Your shoulder, you keep rubbing it."

"Ah no, I didn't really sleep on it wrong, it's just sore." I followed his gaze over to the murder board where all of the dead and missing people's names were listed. Donovan Donati's name stuck out like a sore thumb, and I immediately could place Stiles' worry.

"I think you're dad's right," I whispered, leaning my head onto the shoulder that wasn't bothering him and placing a small kiss there. I latched on to his arm and began rubbing small, comforting circles with my thumb.

"What do you mean?"

"I think that wherever Donovan might be, its far away from Beacon Hills. Despite how angry he may have seemed at your dad, I think the need to outrun the law takes precedence to a kid like him."

His gaze found mine and his eyes sparkled with the kind of desperation that made me want to hold him tighter. Like he desperately wanted to believe me but he couldn't. We were jolted out of our moment by a loud vibrating on Stiles' nightstand. He was quick to reach for his phone and answer it, talking to either Scott or his dad, based on the familiarity of his tone.

I tensed slightly when I saw Stiles' eyes grow wide as a result of the impending news whoever was on the other end delivered. It wasn't easy to hear what was going on, but fortunately the conversation ended shortly after it started.

"What's going on?" I asked as Stiles hung up his phone.

He sighed, shaking his head, "If you want to go get an early, early breakfast I'll explain on the way."

Smiling softly and reassuringly, I nodded, kissing his cheek. I then promptly stood up from his bed and ransacked my duffel bag I had brought over.

                                                                      *****

Sheriff Stilinski was marking a large, red 'X' over Tracy Stewart's picture as I silently stewed over what he had previously explained to both Stiles and myself. The lacrosse field destroyed by all the freshly unearthed earth thanks to the multiple chimeras that had been buried there.

"Chimeras," Stilinski nodded to himself.

"Two dead chimeras," Stiles corrected.

"And eight new ones," I added, adjusting my ponytail.

"So, that's ten in all."

"I'm thinking maybe eleven," Stiles' dad had yet to turn around, and I quirked my head in confusion. My eyes widened when he pinned up a picture of Donovan. Immediately my hands grew clammy with anxiety for the Stilinski family at the thought of him being in play again. "Our station tech guys confirmed something for me. They said that both the holding cell lock and cameras could have malfunctioned because of something electromagnetic." He grabbed for the book on the table, "You said that - uh - these guys-"

"The Dread Doctors," I corrected.

"Are we really calling them that?"

"Fear of a name..." I trailed off, shrugging. "So they broke Donovan out?"

"It's how they got into Eichen, isn't it?"

I turned to face the picture again, still beyond certain that the devil resided in his eyes. Nodding, I walked forward, "Donovan's a chimera."

"Yeah," The sheriff sighed, "But is he a failure like Lucas and Tracy?"

Grabbing a marker, I hesitantly uncapped it, "If he is, he's probably dead." I was slightly eager myself to mark an 'X' over his face but couldn't, for the sheriff stopped me.

"Not until I've seen a body."

It was tragic how badly I wanted to argue Sheriff Stilinski on this, how badly I truly wanted him dead. He had threatened two people I had grown to care for most in my life, and pretty violently too. I didn't care to see him show his face around any of us, and a guilty part of me was ready to make sure he was out of our hair for good.

I turned around to see my boyfriend's back face the two of us. He seemed to be fidgeting with his hands and was awfully deep in thought. Maybe this whole Donovan thing scared him more than he would want to admit.

"You're uncharacteristically quiet," His father commented. It was enough to catch Stiles' attention, for he turned around to face us.

"Yeah, sorry - um... I'm just trying to think about it. Um..." He wasn't great at covering up his nerves, but he seemed to snap right back to it after a moment. "These are all teenagers, right? So now shouldn't we be trying to figure out why these teenagers? If the Dread Doctors, if they went through all that: burying them, killing them, breaking one of them out of jail..."

"They couldn't've been chosen at random." The sheriff finished his thought.

"So they had to have something in common," I added, "Something that made them right for this experiment."

"Something that made them special."

                                                                               *****

"How'd your little Mulan training session go?" I hiked up my backpack, quickly walking to keep up with Lydia.

"Mulan training session...?" She quirked her head.

"Yeah, you know, girl learning to fight to defend herself and those she cares for, ends up falling for the guy who teaches her how to fight..." I slyly smirked as she rolled her eyes.

"What's with the sunflowers?" I took her deflecting to critiquing my wardrobe as a win, and smiled down at my outfit.

"They're my favorite flower, Lydia, remember?"

"But did you have to wear them with overalls?"

"You're just saying that because I can pull them off and you cannot."

"That's not it at all. I just don't see why you couldn't wear your sunflowers with a skirt or even a pair of shorts."

"I'll wear my sunflower overalls next time if you want me to."

"I would so rather you didn't."

"What happened anyway? What were you so freaked out about that you called me for?"

"I was staring at the book from my bag when I swear I thought I remembered something."

I paused my walk, "Something - something about the Dread Doctors?"

She nodded, "It's like it's on the tip of my tongue, but I just can't remember the whole thing."

"Everyone else is reading this book too, right?"

"Yeah, we're actually going to head over to Scott's house tonight instead of you and I just reading it tonight."

"It's not like I have anything better to do."

                                                                                *****

The air was thick with foreboding as we all stared down at the coffee table littered with copies of the book. After Malia apparently triggering a suppressed memory about the night of her mother's car crash, we were all a little hesitant to pick it up and start reading. Stiles a little more hesitant, due to another werewolf's presence at Scott's house.

"My mom's book club usually has more wine," Lydia remarked, trying to break the tension.

"Yeah, they also probably didn't read books that cause violent hallucinations," Stiles dragged the mood back into its dark depths.

"That's why Malia's here," Scott reassured us, looking to our friend.

"So none of us go running into traffic?"

"Or taking people's heads off with a sword," I carefully defended Malia, recalling what Stiles had told me about the night Lucas died.

"Or worse," Scott agreed.

"Like what happened to Judy," Malia said pitifully, and we all tilted our heads in confusion. She eyed us, realizing we didn't understand, "Chapter fourteen."

Lydia picked up the original copy, "Maybe I should have my mother read it. She might remember a girl with a tail leaping off the ceiling and attacking everyone."

"Yeah, if it works."

"Okay," I clapped my hands together before picking up my own copy of the book. "Let's just leave the negativity for this tragedy of a publication, shall we?"

"It has to work," Lydia ignored me.

"What does that mean?" Scott questioned.

"I think I saw them during my surgery," She admitted, and I watched everyone's eyes grow wide. "When I look at the cover of the book, it's almost like..."

"A memory trying to surface," Theo finished for her, and my eyes snapped over to him.

"Yeah," Lydia confirmed, looking up at him too.

"Isn't that what Valack wanted when he wrote it?" Kira asked, looking over at me and I nodded.

"If they did something to me," Lydia continued, "I wanna know what it is."

One by one I watched as my friends (and Theo? I wasn't sure if I could count him as a friend) picked up a copy and sat down. I myself sat next to Stiles and placed my head on his lap, opening up to the first page of Valack's novel.

The minutes sluggishly creeped into hours. The sun had long ago set, and I was nearly done with the story. I knew that as an avid reader I would finish earlier than the rest, but I could see that reading this much in one sitting was frankly exhausting for my friends. Looking up, I glanced at Stiles to see him struggle to keep his eyes open. I sighed, folding the corner of the paper to mark my place and sitting up. I nudged his leg, and he glanced over to me.

"Coffee?" I asked, and he nodded gratefully, marking the page where he left off. Standing up and stretching, I asked the room if anyone else wanted coffee. There were multiple yes's, Malia standing up to stretch her legs, and Scott instructing me on where the coffee and coffee pot usually sat.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was enough to send a jolt of energy through my body. I slowly poured several mugs out, smiling when I heard Malia talk to Stiles, who was leaning on the counter.

"What happened to your shoulder?"

"What are you talking about," He asked back.

"I can smell the blood, what happened?" I glanced up quickly. I thought it was just sore, not that there was actually any blood involved.

"The jeep died on me again the other night," He confessed, "I went to check the engine and the hood fell on it."

"You really should consider-"

"Look, June, the reason I didn't tell you was because I don't want you to worry about me or my car."

I set the pot down, remembering all the previous conversations we'd had about the damn car. "Look, Stiles, I love that jeep almost as much as you do, but if it's physically hurting you-"

"It's staying. I need to drive."

"i'm not saying get rid of it, I'm just saying maybe we could take it in...?"

"I need to save up whatever I can for school, fixing the jeep is not a top priority."

I huffed, thrusting a mug into his hands, "Then figure something out to where it stops hurting you. I hate seeing you like this."

Not letting him slip another word in, I walked back into the living room and started handing out mugs, mentally cursing myself for not remembering the cream and sugar. I handed off a cup to Theo, and quirked an eyebrow at him when he sniffed in in suspicion.

"You didn't drug it, right? No truth serum, no flunitrazepam?"

I rolled my eyes, "Knowing the less common name of rohypnol isn't as impressive as you'd think. If I were trying to get rid of you, you'd know, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

He smiled coyly, "Is that a warning?"

I smiled sickly sweet back at him, "If you're not who you say you are, it's a promise. Get back to the book." I turned back into the kitchen to see Stiles and Malia still talking.

"So how much do you remember, anyway? With the accident, did it play like a movie in your head or was it like being completely in it again?" Stiles was careful to ask, but knowing Malia, she was an open book. Things rarely affected her to the point of secrecy.

"In it," She answered. I reached for the refrigerator, opening it up in hopes to find a container of cream, preferably a flavored one.

"Was it just the crash? Nothing else?"

Malia paused, "No, nothing." Her pause gave me reason to believe that perhaps there was something worth holding close to her chest in what had happened to her. Regardless, knowing how close I was with her was a comfort, for I had faith she would tell me eventually.

                                                                       *****

Stiles, Lydia, and Scott ended up finishing the book. I think Theo did as well, but exhaustion crept up on Kira late into the night. I had finished shortly after I made coffee for everyone, and even made a dent on The Invisible Library before I decided to call it a night. The next morning I had several rounds of text messages saying no one felt any different after reading the book.

"What if we need some kind of trigger?" Scott proposed to us as we strode through the halls of the high school. "Wasn't Malia driving when she remembered the crash?"

"Yeah, but how are we supposed to trigger a memory that we don't remember?" Stiles asked.

"Maybe it's a delayed thing," I suggested, "Maybe you have to wait a few hours to see what happens?" The lights above us began to surge and flicker in an ominous manner. Slowly, Scott, Stiles, and myself all turned around to face Kira, who looked a little disgruntled at our accusatory stares.

"It wasn't me, I swear."

"We keep an eye on each other today, okay?" Scott ordered, his voice anxious.

"Yes, and keep an eye out for eight other potentially homicidal chimeras." Stiles agreed.

"And keep an eye out for the Dread Doctors," Kira chimed in.

I rolled my eyes, "Anything else we should keep an eye out for? Maybe el Chupacabra? Or how about the second coming of Jesus Christ, while we're at it?"

Stiles pulled me away towards his locker, "Yeah really starting to see the appeal of a third eye, here."

I told you to stay in the car.

I whirled around, seeing who it was I just heard. Whoever she was sounded eerily familiar.

"You okay?" I spun back around to see Stiles' face expressing concern for me. Slowly, I nodded back at him.

"Fine," My tone was distant, and not at all comforting. "I'll catch you later."

Walking back to where I thought I heard the voice, I faintly heard Stiles agree that he'd catch me later.

Lydia, I told you to stay in the car.

I was certain that I was now hearing Natalie Martin's voice ring out. But something in my gut told me that she was not in fact yelling at her daughter to stay in the car, at least not today. Suddenly, a sharp pain struck just above my left ear, like someone was drilling into it. My pace quickened, and I started jogging to where Natalie's voice was loudest.

I TOLD YOU TO STAY IN THE CAR!

Rounding a doorway, I stopped in my tracks to see Lydia sprawled out on the floor. Sydney, a girl I knew shared a class with Lydia, was right next to her.

"What happened?" I fell down to my knees beside her, placing my ear above her mouth to make sure first and foremost she hadn't stopped breathing.

"S-she - I don't know," Sydney was positively shaking, "One minute she was trying to help, the - the next she just c-collapsed to the floor."

"Go and find her mom," I instructed, and Sydney nodded, rushing out of the room.

"Lydia, can you hear me?" I shook her shoulder slightly, trying to be careful of her head. "Lyds, come on, you need to get up."

Next thing I know, I hear several pairs of sneakers burst into the room we occupied. Barely sparing them a glance, I recognized Scott and Theo.

"What happened?"

"She passed out, I think - I think it might be the book."

"Lydia," Scott went down to the other side of Lydia, "Lydia, are you okay?"

"Lyds," Her eyes started moving behind closed eyelids before they slowly opened, "Lyds, come on, are you alright?"

"I'm okay," My hands found her trembling ones, "I'm fine."

"You remembered something," Theo crouched down next to us.

She nodded, "Not about the Dread Doctors. Nothing about them or the surgery."

"What was it?" Scott grabbed onto Lydia to help her stand up. With my help, we sat her down in a chair next to where she had been lying.

"My grandmother," She answered, eyes still wide with remembrance, "At Eichen House."

"Lydia," Natalie Martin's voice carried down the hallway before she arrived in the room, "Lydia!  Oh my god, what happened? Are you alright?"

"Mom, I'm fine. It was nothing."

Natalie wasn't convinced, "Was it a blackout? Did you faint?"

"Yeah," Lydia seemed defeated, "Yeah, I fainted. Mom, I'm fine. I promise."

"I'll take her home, Miss Martin," I reassured her, helping Lydia to her feet, "I think she just needs some rest."

Natalie looked infinitely more comforted by placing her into my care, especially because she couldn't just up and leave the school. Nodding, she helped me get Lydia to the door, and we all walked out except for Natalie.

"Guys, you're fine, go back to class."

"Are you sure?" Theo asked, and I nodded quickly.

"I've got it, I'm driving my car today." Scott and Theo peeled off, and I took Lydia further down the hallway.

"I'm fine, June, I don't need to go home."

"We're not going home," I muttered, "We're gonna go get some answers."

"Answers to what?"

"Lydia was your mother in your memory?" Stopping, Lydia faced me. Her eyes betrayed surprise, and she nodded slowly.

"She was. She kept muttering something about-"

"Staying in the car. 'Lydia, I told you to stay in the car.' Sound about right?" Her gaze turned uncertain, and slightly wigged out.

"How did you know-?"

"I could hear it clear as day, and I'm not sure how," I answered, "Truthfully, I think it has something to do with that ability that's been developing ever since I got to Beacon Hills. I'm inside your head sometimes, Lydia, and truthfully it's frightening. I get that feeling, that gnawing feeling-"

"Everything's about to go all wrong," She finished for me, and I nodded quietly.

"I feel like the moment I remember whatever I'm supposed to remember from that book, I'll just spiral out of control. I'd like to get answers before that happens."

"Where do we start?"

I sighed, "Where it all started, where you first saw the Dread Doctors."

She nodded, "To the hospital."

                                                                {+}

"Breathe, baby, breathe."

But Scott couldn't. How could he, Roxy wasn't by his side, and he was surrounded by unfamiliar people. The leash was wrapped up in his shaking, bloody hand, and the only person he recognized by his side was his mom. Through muffled hearing, Melissa was trying to remind him to breathe properly.

"Mom...?"

"You're okay, sweetheart, you just need to breathe, okay?"

"Where's Roxy?"

"Sweetheart, she didn't make it..."

Part of Scott understood that this was a flashback, but he couldn't shake himself of the iron fist constricting his lungs, limiting his supply of oxygen. Where was Roxy, his dog?

"Where's Roxy?"

"Try not to talk," There was undeniable panic in Melissa's voice. "Scott, you need to breathe."

                                                                {+}

"Okay, then what are we doing here if you've already had your suppressed memory?" Stiles asked, climbing out of the passenger's side of my car. Lydia sat behind me, chugging a water I bought for her previously.

"It wasn't the right memory," She insisted, "I remember my grandmother in Eichen House. There was nothing to do with the surgery, nothing to do with the Dread Doctors. So, if I've read the book, why don't I have the full memory of my experience with them?"

"I'm not supposed to know that, am I?"

"No, something happened during the surgery. But now I think that maybe it has more to do with me being a banshee."

I narrowed my eyes in realization, "It's not your memory, Lydia."

"It's someone else's."

"So back to the drawing board, then," I suggested, herding everyone inside the hospital, "Or I guess the operating room."

"Why there?"

"Memories can be triggered by places just as much as sounds, smells, or any of your other senses. I'm going to group other people's memories in this category as well just for you, though, Lydia."

Together, we all headed inside, ready to sneak our way past the front desk (which previously had not been difficult in the slightest). It wasn't long before we were in the elevators and on our way to the operating room. When we got to the right floor, I was met with a sight that had me stopped in my tracks.

"June, are you coming?" Stiles and Lydia were turning a corner, down a separate hallway from the man holding the little girl out in front of him like a shield. What frightened me most was the detailing of his eyes, the entire eye was glowing violet. The girl he was holding was undeniably a younger version of me.

"I'll catch up in a minute," I answered, walking down the main hallway before they could reply back. The man dragged the girl down another hallway, and by the time I had rounded the corner, he was at the end, entering a room.

Entering through the doorway I came into not a hospital room, but a practice room. New York skyscrapers shot out past the windows, and papers littered the floor. Suddenly, I felt a pair of arms around me, clutching me desperately to him. My breathing quickened, and the door I now faced burst open.

There stood the High Priestess, and on either side of her were my parents. I thought I saw Ginny behind them, but my mind wasn't thinking straight. After everything he had said...

"Christian Chéroux," The High Priestess spoke, "Let the girl go immediately."

"I - I can't. You know I can't."

"No, I don't know. Why harm an innocent child?"

"She's far from innocent, Morosina, I've seen it myself."

"June is one of your brightest pupils, what changes things so drastically?"

"Her power, is unprecedented. My Sight has never been wrong, you know this." His grip tightened on me, and suddenly I felt warm. His skin was almost burning me.

"Her work ethic is unprecedented, Christian, maybe you're mistaken-"

"NO! No, no I'm not. She's a danger."

"You're a danger," My mother's unshed tears could be seen from where I was, "Let my daughter go."

"She'll lose control," He warned, placing his hand on my head, and an excruciating pain radiated through my entire skull, shattering what felt like my soul. I cried out in pain, and I heard my mother do the same.

"Christian, you are the one losing control, here. You're harming an innocent child, and look at the state of the room." Papers were whirling around us, and a gust of wind encircled all of us, glass shattered the window directly to the right of us. Christian shoved me over to the window, grabbing me by the neck and hovering half of my body outside of the building. Tears were falling down my face as I desperately gripped at his wrist. There was a very real moment where I envisioned splattering on the pavement.

"There is something you have to do, you have - you have to - ah!" He threw me to the ground in favor of nursing his steaming hand. The High Priestess grabbed me by the collar and threw me behind her. I felt the comfort of my parents' embrace, followed by Ginny's singing. I could hardly hear what was happening over my sobs, but through a crack in my mother's arm, I could see my former tutor screaming in pain.

He fell to his knees, eyes glowing as brightly as ever. The wind picked up, and swirled around him and the High Priestess to the point where it almost picked them up off of the floor. What frightened me most was the physical manifestation of magic coming out of his hands, something I had never seen before, but could not describe it as otherwise.

"EITHER SHE DIES, OR WE ALL DO!" Chéroux bellowed, gaze fixed on me. My parents were chanting in unison as they threw a shield around the four of us.

"'I'll have a blue, Christmas, without you...'"

"CHRISTIAN, PLEASE! FIND REASON!"

The room seemed to suddenly melt into light and warmth before it was finally quiet. I could only hear Ginny, as she kept singing softly in my ear. Glancing up, I could only see the High Priestess stand over a shriveled corpse whose taut skin was littered with marks of ancient script that I didn't have the mindset to begin to decipher.

"'You'll be doing alright, in your Christmas of white... but I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas...'"

The room shrank down to the size of a janitor's closet. I no longer felt the comfort of my family's arms around me, just the shelves of cleaning supplies. As I sank to the floor in a hyperventilating mess, the only thing I could see besides the pitch black was the face of my former tutor. Cold, lifeless eyes that once housed the mind of someone great, had succumbed to magic right before my eyes. As I thought about how he was in fact the first dead body I had ever seen, I couldn't help but think that some memories were better off suppressed in the dark recesses of my mind.

                                                                   {+}

Stiles stood up, staring down at the boy whose throat had just been ripped out.

"Stiles," He could barely turn his attention to Theo. "Stiles you can't say anything. Please, don't say anything."

Stiles' gaze snapped to Theo's blood-stained hand and scoffed, "Why not?" This was all the proof he needed to get Theo as far away from everyone as possible. That is, until Theo spoke again.

"Because I never said anything about Donovan."

Happy weekend! Stuff's really starting to happen, omg. Love you all, be safe, love one another. Unedited. Xx.