┏━━━━⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆━━━━┓

A MASTER PLAN

"WHITTEMORE IS TURNING INTO THAT? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?"

Presently, Emerson had opted to tag along with Derek and Peter to the old Hale house to do some research of their own. All the while across town, Scott and Isaac were investigating Jackson's body.

In all the years she'd spent in Beacon Hills, she had never been to the infamous Hale residence. Students used to say it was haunted, that the ghosts of those killed in the fire from a few years ago still roamed around, and all who dared to enter had a good chance at waking the dead.

Emerson thought it was a tacky thing to do, because she sure as hell wouldn't want people combing through her grandmother's old garden to catch her ghost. But even so, the Hale house was crumbling at the seems, and she had half a mind to think that Derek had been staying there.

She had been hovering over Peter's shoulder as he scrolled through their family's Bestiary, until he stopped at the section on kanimas. The picture he stopped at illustrated what Jackson Whittemore was turning into, based on the venomous, transparent casing Scott said the body was in.

"That has wings," Derek all but exclaimed, and Emerson couldn't even try to hide the grimace on her face if she wanted to.

Peter looked at the screen, the image of the winged beast that Jackson was morphing into, and gave an almost unsettled response. "I can see that."

Derek was on his phone in an instant, dialling Scott's number and demanding they bring Jackson's body to them. Emerson continued to look at the image with Peter, the man going to a smaller tab with a huff of laughter. "Look, somebody actually made an animation of it," he observed, "maybe it's less frightening if we—"

The second he clicked on the video, a horrifying screeching sound infiltrated their ears. Emerson reared her head back with a groan, Peter effectively slamming the laptop shut. "Nope, not at all," he rushed out, rising from his chair. "We should probably meet them halfway."

"I think that's the best idea you've had all night," Emerson said, earning her a rather self-assured smile from the eldest Hale among them.

Derek was already charging out of the room, Peter and Emerson quick to follow his rampant footsteps. "Derek, we need Lydia," Peter stressed.

"There's no time for—" The man's uncle held a finger up, interrupting him.

"That's the problem; we're rushing. We're moving too fast," he said, "and while everybody knows a moving target is harder to hit, here we are, racing into Gerard's crosshairs."

Derek was unphased, hand gripping the door handle. "If I get the chance to kill Jackson, I'm taking it."

He wrenched the door open and marched towards the trees. Meanwhile, Peter's steps slowed only slightly so that he could fall into line with Emerson, a strategic move that she knew was coming from a mile away.

"Derek tells me you're an Alpha." Oh, here we go. "A strange one, at that. Not to mention that little bracelet of yours was clearly made by an Emissary."

Her eyes flickered to his face, though he wasn't looking at her. Emerson herself didn't even know where the bracelet had truly come from, because it was forced upon her wrist the moment her grandmother sent her away.

"I've got enemies, Peter," was her intentional, albeit unnerved answer, wanting to deflect away from the fact that he knew about the bracelet. "I'm sure you, of all zombie people, could understand that."

A ghost of a smirk was on his face.

"Yes, I do."

ೃ࿔*:⋆

Somehow, when they had met up with Isaac and Scott and the black body bag they'd stolen from the morgue, Chris Argent was also there.

"Are you also totally confused right now or is it just me?" she whispered to Peter, as she and the man hid behind a large beam in the warehouse they had gathered in.

He looked inquisitively at the scene, Derek and Chris arguing about what Chris' father was up to. "It seems like Christopher is switching sides," he mused lowly, and Emerson thought that didn't make any sense.

Why would Chris abandon all he had once stood for? What would his father have to say about this?

"If Jackson's a dog, he's turning rabid... and my father wouldn't let a rabid dog live."

"Of course not."

Oh, she shouldn't have spoken too soon.

Standing there like a menacing bald man, Gerard Argent made his appearance.

"Anything that dangerous— that out of control, is better off dead."

Just as Derek went to slash at Jackson's chest, the damn teenager rose to life and impaled Derek's own chest with his claws. In an instant, the Alpha was thrown across the damn warehouse, and Emerson's feet kicked into action before her brain did. However, a hand grabbed at her bicep, rooting her in place.

"Not yet," Peter told her expectantly. "We have to wait—"

Her ears perked up once more at the sound of an arrow whizzing through the air, and for some odd reason, she felt a pang sensation radiate through her chest. The blonde's eyes scoured the scene, catching the tick of Isaac's breath before he went down.

This time, Peter's grip on her seemed like nothing as she ripped herself away from him, running to the boy that was on the ground with an arrow through the chest.

She and Scott got to him at the same time, Emerson subconsciously clutching the dirty blond in her direction rather than in Scott's. As she went, she caught a glimpse of a brunette, and given that Gerard was here, she knew who the figure was.

They dragged him to the opposite end of the warehouse, near where Derek's body had landed, and Emerson practically growled in Scott's direction. "Was that your fucking girlfriend, McCall?"

Scott was shaking his head, and suddenly he was bracing Isaac. With a sharp yank, the arrow was ripped from the boy's chest, and Emerson could tell that the healing process started based on the way the wound rapidly closed.

Behind them chaos ensued, the kanima lunging at Chris while Isaac caught his breath. "Shit, we're really doing this?" he heaved out.

As much as Emerson wanted to say no, she bitterly nodded.

"Better get those fangs out... I have a feeling Whittemore won't go down easy."

ೃ࿔*:⋆

Emerson was dodging venomous claws left and right, and any sane person would've thought that a 1v4 plus a damn hunter would've ended within a second. But no, Jackson was proving to be quite the challenger.

It only got worse when Allison Argent made herself fully known, and while Isaac had Scott watching his flank, no one was watching Derek's. No, he was alone, writhing around on the floor from the deep wound on his chest that was not healing in the slightest.

She made a stepping motion, like she wanted to kick him while he was already down, and that was precisely when Emerson let all that pent up aggression for the brunette loose. The blonde positioned herself in front of Derek, taking a small blow before she tried swiping Allison's feet out from under her.

Shifting away from the damn blades in her hands, ignoring the minute shock that flashed across the brunette's eyes, Emerson fought like she'd never fought before.

"You're a little bitch, you know that?" she snarled, and part of her just wanted to rip this girl in half when she caught sight of Isaac's body on the ground once more.

Allison was undeterred, fighting tooth and nail against Emerson and her eager, slashing claws. Yet, as she went to lunge at her once more, seeing a weak spot on her left side that was foolishly unprotected, something wrapped around her ankle.

A slithery tail yanked at it, and she toppled onto her stomach. It was gone in an instant, only to be replaced by Allison's looming figure. Only a few feet away was Derek, trying to push himself up onto his elbows.

"Emerson—" someone yelled, but she couldn't be sure if it was him.

Fuck me, she groaned internally when one of the knives she'd been wielding came on her, right into her shoulder blade. She made a guttural sound, her hand going to her shoulder before pulling it back. Her blood wasn't tinged red like it always was; it was black, sticky, and she didn't need her sense of smell to know that the blade was doused with wolfsbane.

Gerard took all the chaos around the warehouse, all the notes of betrayal in the air, and went on a tangent.

A tangent about how he was dying, and how the supernatural would provide a cure for him. No, Gerard didn't want Jackson.

No— he wanted Derek.

But Emerson was finding it so hard to keep her eyes open.

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆

[ wyn's note ]

bit of a longer one, but i just had to crank it out LOL emmy protecting derek's annoying ass tho? cause it's the right thing to do or cause she's a self sacrificing fool? time will tell LOL

also i can't write combat scenes but what else is new!! im a master of my craft (aka angst) and my craft alone

all my love xoxo