Fight Till We Die

Setting Things Right

It's a terrible thing, to lose someone you love. But the truly terrible thing is to lose yourself while trying to hold on to them.

- Cassandra Clare

Running on rooftops under the cover of night was surprisingly easy. All of their hunting had finally proved successful. Derek had been tracing the scents of the alpha all over town, and that night he and Libby were led to an industrial warehouse area. They hadn't expected to find much, much less the source of their problems, but when they landed atop the roof, they saw a pair of red eyes. 

Sprinting after the wolf, Libby, and Derek were jumping from roof to roof in an attempt to catch the creature. To fight it. To end this.

Her pounding footsteps stirred up dust, and Derek remained a step ahead of her stirring up just as much. They came up on a ledge and leaped through the air gracefully. It was like time stilled the second she heard the shot. 

Still in the air, she felt the whoosh of a bullet carve a path through the air in front of her chest. It was disarming and she stumbled when she and Derek landed on the opposite roof. Libby turned to look at her brother, only, he was no longer beside her. 

Hearing a grunt in the alley below, Libby scrambled to the edge and looked down.

"Get down!" He shouted up at her.

Libby tucked her back against the concrete ledge she sat next to and called out only loud enough for him to hear, "Are you okay? Did it hit you?"

She knew the answer before he spoke, and Derek knew she knew as well. Rather than respond he said, "Get home. I'll meet you there."

Every muscle in her back tightened as she tried to catch the scent of their assailant. She didn't move, rather, she put all her focus on finding the person. Whipping her head to the right, Libby knew where the shooter was. Something was familiar about it, but she couldn't place it. 

Lobbing herself over the edge, Libby landed smoothly on her feet and ducked behind the alley were Derek lay, grunting in pain.

"I said go home. Stay out of sight."

Libby didn't look back at her brother as she shifted and responded, "I know where they are. I'll take them down and get you out of here."

"No." He was guarded. His voice was not the delicate one he so often used with his sister. In pain and pissed, Derek shoved off the ground. He yanked Libby's shoulder back, strong enough to make her stumble. He knew it was the only way she wouldn't fight him.

Still, she growled at his dominance and moved back for the edge of the alley, claws at the ready. When she came up on her brother's large frame she stopped, not daring to lay a hand on him while he was injured. 

"Move."

"Go home." He paused, his hand snapping out to grip her forearm with a strength she couldn't pull from lest she risk hurting him. "Now."

Glowing eyes met Derek's, "She'll keep hunting us."

His gaze faltered, "She?"

Libby didn't know how she knew it was a woman shooting at them, but she did. Perhaps that familiar scent was a bourbon-based perfume.

Derek shook it off and pulled her in the opposite direction she wished to go. When he stumbled, that's when Libby noticed something wafting from his arm. That's when she noticed he wasn't healing.