Uniquely Normal

Visionary

A/N: [b/m] —> birth month

The young werewolf dashed through the dark woods, panting and grunting for breath as his heart raced with adrenaline. He had made it a few meters in, when he suddenly tripped and fell down a steep slope. Tumbling on his back, he landed stomach first, and lifted his head when he heard the familiar whirring noise.

There in front of him was a metal pike with a light at the top. It let out a loud whistle, and the boy covered his ears as he quickly got up and ran away from the device.

Behind him were multiple men, holding flashlights as they talked among themselves, closing in on the werewolf. He came across more emitters, holding his ears to block out the ear-shattering sound.

He continued running, and almost thought he was safe until he ran into someone. Both of them backed up, and stared at each other with fear and determination. But the other looked at him in recognition.

"You're a Hale," he said. "Aren't you?"

Before he could respond, the other gasped for breath as an arrow went straight through his throat. He fell to the ground dead, and Derek saw the hunter several yards away, aiming a crossbow at him.

He stood on his feet, and faced his body towards the man, and listened as the arrow flew towards him, but the impact never came. He looked down to see the tip of the arrow only an inch from his chest, and to his right was his young uncle, Peter, holding the arrow.

Peter threw down the arrow before grabbing onto Derek and running in the opposite direction, away from the hunter.

Later that night, the group of hunters search around a large tree, flashlights in hand as they looked for the other supernatural creatures. Little did they know, Peter and Derek were in the root cellar below them, catching their breaths and guarding themselves among the roots that surrounded them.

"They were there for two days," Cora explained looking out the large window as the rain poured down. "Waiting, hiding. That's what we're taught to do when the hunters find us: hide and heal."

"Okay, so is two days standard, then, or are we thinking Derek's on, like, some extended getaway?" Stiles asked as he paced in the middle of the room.

Cora turned around and squinted at him. "Why do you care?"

"Why do I care?" Stiles repeated. "Let's see; because over the last few weeks, my best friend's tried to kill himself, his boss nearly got ritually sacrificed, a girl that I've known since I was three and the father of my girlfriend were ritually sacrificed, Boyd was killed by alphas- Do you want me to keep going? Because I can. For, like, an hour!"

The two bickered back an forth while [y/n] sat on the couch, watching the two in silence, just waiting for some answers.

"You think Derek can do anything about that?" Cora asked as she stalked towards him.

"Well, since he's the one everyone seems to be after, it's more like he should do something about it, yeah." Stiles retorted.

"I don't know." Cora said, dropping the snarky attitude. "There's something different about him now. He wasn't like this when I knew him."

[y/n] glanced up at the female werewolf. "What was he like?"

The three teenagers heard footsteps slowly condescending, and looked toward the spiral stairs to see the infamous Peter walking down to join them.

"A lot like Scott, actually." He said. "A lot like most teenagers; unbearably romantic, profoundly narcissistic, tolerable really only to other teenagers."