Don't Let Me Go

In Control

It's been a long time since I've had to fight and to be honest I missed the adrenaline coursing through my veins. When things had gotten overwhelming last year, I begged for a day that I didn't have to wake up and lace my bows with wolf's bane before breakfast. Now I missed the thrill of being in control, something I hadn't felt in what seemed like forever.

I wished I had my bow with me but it wouldn't have been much good in hand to hand combat. I'd have to make do with the handgun and a couple of daggers. I wished Scott had more hunting gear around here but he never had use for it. Maybe I should text Stiles to bring more gear even if it would put him in  danger... Oh wait... Stiles was in the hospital. He doesn't even remember who I am. 

I take a second to collect my thoughts and make my way downstairs. Before getting to the kitchen, I already knew that the shapeshifter wouldn't be there and that the knife wouldn't have slowed him down. I prayed that he had reverted to another face so I wouldn't have to fight against someone who looked exactly like Scott.

I hear a creak in the floorboards behind me but I continued to walk obliviously. I had the advantage of him not knowing I was a hunter. Calculating his position by the sound of his footsteps, I spin around and throw the dagger with one movement.

Scott's eyebrows scrunch up in pain as the dagger pierces his shoulder. I groan when I see that he hasn't relinquished his current face. 

He quickly pulls out the dagger and launches himself at me with full force. I literally laugh as I realize that he's actually not used to fighting. He uses the face of a loved one to mess with someone's head and never actually has to fight...

I easily deflect his moves, darting to the floor and using my arms to block his swings. He was coming at me with power but not much precision. My father's drilling came to mind about being quick and precise when faced with a stronger opponent with weak technique. Unfortunately, though his fighting was off, his ability to heal was greater than that of wolves. His stomach had already healed from minutes before and his shoulder has healing before my eyes.

How was I going to stop him if he kept healing so quickly?

Using a roundhouse kick to his wounded shoulder, I knock him to the floor and pull out my handgun in the same motion. Looking away from the man who looked just like Scott, I empty all the cartridges I have into his chest while he still attempts to make his way towards me. He was obviously slowed down but his body was already healing around the bullets. They weren't doing much damage because the bullets were practically just wolfsbane. Knowing that this would've killed the real Scott makes the scene much worse. I struggle to soothe my stomach.

Pulling out my other dagger, I back away as I try to form a plan in my head. I was running out of options and time. If Melissa woke up and came down here then he'd have the leg up. I run into the dining table behind me and flinch as I realized I'm cornered. I could fight but I wouldn't win.

Just as I was about to launch myself at the shapeshifter, Deaton bursts through the door with a crossbow in hand. The Scott look-alike turns to face him but has no time to defend himself as Deaton launches the arrow into his chest. I flinch and look away as Scott's body falls to the floor and stills. 

Deaton rushes to my side and lefts me onto the table so that he can examine my injuries. 

"What... did you... shoot him...with?" I asked trying to regain my breath.

His face was stoic as he examined the finger-shaped bruises on my arms, "Just a paralytic poison. It'll stop a shapeshifter for six hours top. We must find Scott, we need him."

I flinch as Deaton cleans some of the cuts on my face with some alcohol wipes he had in his pocket, sometimes I wondered how he didn't become a doctor instead of vet... Well... I laugh out loud to the dumb joke in my head about him taking care of wolves all the time.

"Are you alright?" Deaton looks up and lets his concern show for a fraction of a second.

I hear Melissa coming down the stairs and jump down from the table, "I'm fine."

"What the hell happened?" Melissa yelled. 

How she was able to sleep through all of this was unbelievable... Actually no I knew she was a heavy sleeper from all the times Scott and I had... Nevermind.

"We don't have time. We need to track down Scott." Deaton grabs his crossbow from the floor and heads to the door expecting Allison to follow, "Melissa go to my office, you'll be safe there."

"But why is all of this happening? I don't get it." I call out while limping towards him. I feel bad as I ignore Melissa's look of fear and confusion and ultimately horror when she lays eyes on Scott's bloody body on the floor. 

The bloodcurdling scream of agony that escapes her lips is one that I'll never be able to erase from my mind.

Oh god. None of us thought to warn her before she saw her son on the floor with an arrow through his chest.

Deaton and I both yell at the same time that the boy on the floor wasn't her son but she had already passed out. She didn't deserve this life... who did honestly?

Deaton picks her up in his arms and I can tell that his thoughts mirror mine. She just saw her son dead and yet all we could do was drop her off at the hospital with a bandaid and leave to find Scott.

When we got there we told Sheriff Stilinski who looked horrible. I imagine he'd been here all night with Stiles as soon as he heard. We told him to tell Melissa as soon as she woke up that Scott wasn't dead. He look horrified as Deaton and I told him what had happened. I don't know how much more he could take of this.

He ordered us to leave and fix all of this, "Make sure that you don't make me a liar. When you get back, bring Scott - alive."

Deaton and I nodded in response and turned away from the chaos we were leaving behind. In less than a day, this shapeshifter had managed to tear all of our lives into pieces. 

"There's one thing I still don't understand." I state as we make it to the parking lot. At this point neither of us know how we're going to find Scott but we know we can't do nothing.

"What is that?" Deaton responds.

I sigh, "Why is a shapeshifter going after Scott? What does a true alpha have anything to do with a shapeshifter?"

'Because," Deaton sighs, "True alphas are the only creatures in existence that can kill a shapeshifter permanently. One slash of his claws would kill him instantaneously. I thought they were all dead."

Now it all made sense, the shapeshifter hadn't felt a threat in over a hundred years. As long as True Alphas remained a distant memory, he was safe to do as he pleased. Of course he'd want to kill Scott but what he didn't know is that this True Alpha was protected.