𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍, derek hale ✓

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

┏━━━━⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆━━━━┓

MEMORY RETRIEVAL

APPARENTLY, SOME RANDOM GIRL WAS THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR RESCUING ISAAC.

Emerson made a mental note to buy this mystery woman a fruit basket or something the minute they found out just who she was. Though, they weren't making any astounding progress with the gaps in Isaac's memory. Shocker.

That was why the following day, the trio of alpha pack hunters were gathered at the loft, waiting on someone else to join them. Someone else that had a solution to their problem.

"Y'know, I'm starting not to like this idea," Isaac murmured as he paced back and forth in front of the windows. "Sounds kinda dangerous."

"What, like going on a solo mission the other day? That kind of dangerous?" Emerson quipped in response, still not letting it go.

"Fair point," he conceded with a shake of the head, "but I really don't like him."

He was referring to the guest of the hour, the one who was running late by the looks of it. "You'll be fine," Derek dismissed, not even sparing the boy a glance as he sat with a book in his hand.

Isaac's pacing stopped, eyes flickering from Derek to the blonde girl leaning against a nearby beam. "Does it have to be him?" he asked for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"He knows how to do it, I don't," the Hale man replied, "and if I don't, Emerson definitely doesn't."

Emerson glared, though he didn't see it with his nose in the book. "Prick," she muttered, and that earned his attention in the form of an eye roll in her direction. She stuck her tongue out, arms crossed over her chest.

"You know Scott doesn't trust him, right?" Isaac asked, interrupting their wordless exchange.

"If you were bitten against your will, would you trust the dude who did it?" Emerson questioned back. At the boy's silence, she pressed on. "Do you trust us?"

"Yeah... but I still don't like him."

"Nobody likes him," Derek added, just a mere second before the loft doors slide open loudly.

Peter Hale stood in the doorway wearing his typical know-it-all smirk and a pair of expensive looking jeans. He seemed calm, like he hadn't made them wait an extra thirty minutes.

"Boys," he greeted, before his gaze settled onto the blonde's briefly, "and Emerson."

"Peter," Derek said, acknowledging his uncle's presence.

"FYI, yes; coming back from the dead has left my abilities somewhat impaired, but the hearing still works," he retorted as he entered, making his way up to the three wolves. "So I hope that you're comfortable with saying whatever you're feeling straight to my face."

"We don't like you." The deadpan look on Derek's face made Emerson snort, covering the sound with her hand.

"Now shut up and help us."

ೃ࿔*:⋆

The minute Peter's claws dug their way into the back of Isaac's neck was the minute she felt pain radiate from her own.

It was dull, something she could've ignored on any other occasion, but she found her hand instinctually reaching for the source. She rolled her jaw back, trying to shake it away when the pair started to fucking convulse.

Her nerves were already fried to begin with, and this certainly wasn't helping. She had half a mind to rip the two apart just to make it stop, but she knew the chances of risking even more damage would be higher if she did.

"Is that normal?" she asked the man that she was practically sat right up against, their legs brushing as they watched from the couch. If he noticed, he hadn't said anything.

"I don't know," Derek replied unhelpfully, but the crease in his brow alluded to the fact that he was nervous about the outcome, just like Emerson was.

It was over before it really began, with Peter wrenching his hand away from the beta and sounding like he was going to cough up a lung. Emerson was kneeling in front of Isaac within a second, his heart beating too irregularly for her taste.

Her hand sought out his forearm while he remained hunched over, and black veins of discomfort crawled up into her hand. She grit her teeth as she took the boy's pain away, while Derek quizzed Peter. "What'd you see?"

"Isaac found them," Peter revealed, his hand clenching and unclenching. "I barely saw them, I mean glimpses—"

"But you did see them?" Derek asked, and Emerson found him hovering right before her. His tone was persistent, he needed to know what Peter saw entirely.

"Worse," Peter responded. "Deucalion... he was talking to them about something, something about time running out."

Isaac pulled his head up. "What does it mean?" he asked, voice strained as he came back to the land of the conscious.

"It means he's gonna kill them," Emerson responded before she swallowed around nothing, sitting in a heap on the concrete floor next to the chair Isaac was in.

It was quite literally the bad man's MO: he hurt those who didn't willingly join him, and the most effective way to hurt someone was to go after those closest to them. Emerson had seen it in the past, with her grandmother who fended him off all those years ago and with the guardian she'd been with before she was sent Hannah's way.

History was always repeating itself, and Deucalion was always going to have his way.

"He said that by the full moon, they'd both be dead."

"The next full moon?" Derek pried, and Emerson's eyes widened on their own accord.

She'd been extra volatile yesterday, in a way that could've been attributed to the stress she'd been put under. But she was fairly level-headed, meaning it had to have been something else in addition to it that pushed her.

Like an approaching full moon.

Peter turned to them, his jaw clenching as he delivered the final blow of bad news. "Tomorrow night."

The full moon was tomorrow night— and suddenly, it felt like a race against the clock to get them back.

"There is something else we could try..."

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆

[ wyn's note ]

'we don't like you' speak for urself derek... i very much like ur uncle if yknow what i mean ;)

HAHA put me back in my enclosure HAHA

next chap should be out tmrw — all my love! x