Once Mr. Yukimura's class began, Alistair found himself witnessing a series of really funny and awkward events that began to unfold in front of him. It all started when Kira approached Scott, stumbling over her words as she introduced herself, only to realize, seconds too late, that he already knew her. Trying to recover, she mumbled and stuttered, causing Alistair to bite his lip and cover his mouth with his fist to stifle his laughter, enjoying the show like a new movie in the theater. Recomposing herself, Kira then proceeded to explaining that she made research on Bardo for Scott, which the Keeper thought extremely cute. She started to search for it on her backpack. But then, as if an orchestra director has given the sign for the last part of the musical piece, in this case, a horrible and unsettling one, Kira's father entered the classroom and very loudly announced that she had forgotten the research she had done for the boy she liked before leaving to teach his class as if nothing had happened, leaving a mortified Kira and a dumbstruck Scott. All of this, with Alistair dying in silent laughter in the back.
That was the last Alistair saw or heard before the class officially started.
As Mr. Yukimura began a review of the day's topic, he asked Stiles to come to the front and read aloud. Reluctantly, Stiles obliged, but as he stood in front of the class, Alistair noticed him gripping the lectern tightly, his breathing becoming rapid and uncontrolled. Stiles appeared lost and disoriented, scanning the room with a clouded gaze, his knuckled already white.
Without hesitation, Alistair rose from his seat, with Scott following closely behind. Approaching Stiles, Alistair placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and addressed the professor, saying, "We'll take him to the nursing." Mr. Yukimura simply nodded in understanding, slightly worried about the boy.
As they made their way to the bathrooms, Stiles detached himself from Alistair, stumbling and fumbling, bumping into walls and doors along the way. Once inside, he stood before the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror, repeating that he must be dreaming and had to wake up.
Scott began to panic, his anxiety escalating alongside the other boy's. Sensing the urgency, Alistair's voice grounded the others, offering a sense of calm. "Stiles, tell us what we can do," he said.
In a breathless and agitated voice, Stiles responded, "Count your fingers. You have more in dreams."
"How many fingers do I have?" Scott pressed, eager for Stiles to focus on him.
Gently guiding Stiles towards Scott, Alistair held his head softly, ensuring his eyes met Scott's hand. As Scott presented his hands, Stiles began counting, one finger at a time. With each count, Alistair felt Stiles' agitation subside, his breathing steadying.
Now with his breathing regulated, Stiles slumped to the floor, clutching his head. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he exclaimed.
Scott attempted to sound reassuring, though doubt lingered in his voice. "We'll figure it out. You'll be okay."
Anxious and teary-eyed, Stiles shook his head. "Scott, you can't control your shifting, Allison is being hunted by her dead aunt, and me... I'm losing my mind." Tears welled up as he continued, "We can't help Malia. We can't help anyone."
"We have to try. We can't give up," Scott insisted, his gaze shifting to Alistair, who remained standing, seeking for support.
Kneeling beside them, Alistair squeezed Stiles' shoulder, his voice firm and clear. "We'll try. We'll take it one day at a time. And you won't be alone, not on a single step." The other boys nodded, their expressions a mix of fear and newfound determination.
(...)
In front of the door, outside the house, he heard as the sound of bullets filled the air, the man recklessly fired round after round, the impact of his shots echoing against the ceiling. He locked eyes with the girl beside him, silently communicating their plan. With a nod of agreement, he kicked open the door, creating a wide opening, while they both took cover on opposite sides of the wall, baiting the man to come outside.
As expected, the man stepped out, with his rifle held high in a tight grip. John couldn't help but inwardly facepalm at the predictability. Letting out a sigh, he swiftly grabbed the barrel of the rifle, causing the man to lose his balance. Seizing the opportunity, the girl delivered a powerful kick to his head, rendering him unconscious.
Peering into the room, John spotted Derek and Peter tied up against a fence. Making his way towards them, he couldn't help but address Derek with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Why is it that whenever I think you're ghosting me, you are actually in such dire situations?"
Derek, witty as ever, responded with a smirk of his own, "What can I say? I never realized how prone I am to play the damsel in distress." John couldn't help the belly laugh that escaped him.
Assisting Derek in getting untied, while the girl helped Peter, John turned and began walking towards the door, the urgency evident in his voice. "Alright, we need to leave now."
Derek, however, remained firm, and with a stern voice. "We're not leaving without it."
Turning to face him, John raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "And what exactly is 'it'?"
(...)
Well, shit. It turns out that Malia had attacked the school and nearly got a taste of Kira, leading her father -Malia's, to now want her dead. Of course, he didn't know that the coyote was his daughter, but that didn't change the situation.
In order to safely handle Malia, Stiles, Scott, Isaac, and Alistair decided to seek Deaton's help. They arrived at his clinic, and Deaton placed three small vials on the table.
"These contain Xylazine, a horse tranquilizer," Deaton explained. "I hope it works in seconds for a coyote. Whoever shoots, better be a damn good shot."
Before anyone could speak up, Isaac interjected, "Al has a perfect shot." Alistair glanced back at Isaac and winked, earning a smirk in return.
"Allison is also a perfect shot," Scott added without hesitation.
Scratching his head, Stiles chimed in, "Well, she used to."
Refusing to accept that notion, Scott insisted, "She can do it." Alistair couldn't help but roll his eyes in response, stopping himself from commenting further.
Isaac, sharing the exasperation, remarked with a roll of his eyes, "If we can even find that thing."
Frustrated, Stiles launched into a rant directed at Isaac, "Seriously, what's the point of him? Apart from the persistent negativity and the scarf." Pondering for a moment, he then asked, "What's up with the scarf anyway? It's 65 degrees out."
Looking Isaac up and down, Alistair replied with a smirk, "Well, he looks damn good in it." Isaac smirked in return, while Scott wore a bewildered expression.
Amidst the banter, Isaac posed the question, "Look, maybe I'm asking the hard questions, but how do we turn a coyote back into a girl when she hasn't been a girl for eight years?"
Scott proceeded to explain that he could use his alpha roar to accomplish it, only to be unintentionally belittled by Stiles, who mentioned his evident inability to do 'alpha things', leading Scott to conclude he was an 'alpha with performance issues'.
With their plan in motion, Stiles and Scott set off to find Lydia and the twins, so they could teach Scott how to be a proper alpha again, while Alistair went home to gather his equipment, and Isaac went to God knows where.
(...)
As Alistair stepped into his house, his phone began to ring. Glancing at the screen and seeing the name displayed, a smile formed on his face as he answered the call.
"I thought I told you I'd call you when I had the time," Alistair said, his voice relaxed and casual.
"Well, you see, when it comes to my daughter, I don't have the luxury of patience," came the response. Alistair had to pause for a moment, taken aback by the impeccable accent he heard on the other end. Because, hell, even though his father was British, this man's accent was something else entirely. It was a refined and sophisticated accent, each syllable pronounced with precision and elegance, making clear his aristocratic past.
"Then I'll have to ask you to search inside yourself for it. I'm dealing with a rather complicated matter here, but as I promised you, I will bring her to you. Just give us until a week prior to the full moon," Alistair explained, entering the armory room and rummaging through various rifles, searching for the one suitable for shooting Malia the tranquilizer.
"Why don't you just tell me where you are, and we'll come to you?" The man's voice carried an authoritative tone, brimming with confidence. There was an almost seductive and persuasive undertone, indicating his attempt to compel Alistair. The boy couldn't help but laugh at his failed attempt.
"Nah, the last thing I want is Original Vampires running around town. The stories from Mystic Falls have already taught me enough of that," Alistair replied, followed by a breathy laugh.
"Bloody vervain," the man groaned before continuing. "Look, love, you just told me there's some kind of freaky doppelgänger of my daughter running around, and you expect me to what? Sit still and wait?" His tone clearly conveyed annoyance and exasperation.
"Mr. Mikaelson, I contacted you for a reason. There's no need for you to doubt me," Alistair stated, pausing momentarily as he found the hunting rifle he was searching for. "I could have continued with my life and ignored this, but I believe you and Hope deserve to know, just like Michelle does." Alistair began preparing his bag. "Now, give me these two weeks to settle a few things regarding this place, and we'll be in New Orleans with you." He chuckled softly. "I bet your Vampire Empire doesn't give you much rest anyway."
"No, it doesn't," replied the man, now sounding more relaxed. "And there's no need for such formalities, leave those to Elijah. Just call me Nik, love."
(...)
Hours later, they all gathered at the entrance of the preserve, their vehicles parked nearby. As everyone stepped out, a silence hung in the air while they exchanged uncertain glances. The tension between them was palpable, and the unfolding events and expectations had left them at a loss for words. Awkwardness settled in, weighing down the atmosphere.
Breaking the silence, Lydia voiced the unspoken thoughts, saying, "Does anyone else feel like we're doing more bad than good?"
Scott glanced at Alistair before turning back to Lydia, his reply firm, "We're trying to prevent a father from killing his own daughter."
"Actually," Isaac interjected, "we are stopping a man from killing a coyote, who is in fact his daughter, but we still don't know how to turn back human." His comment was met with sighs of frustration, and Alistair rubbed his temples in exasperation.
"And once again, you're not helping," Stiles remarked.
Alistair placed a comforting hand on Isaac's shoulder when he was about to bite back. "Just because you have a comment, doesn't mean it's worth saying, sweet." With that, he walked over to his car to retrieve the rifle, leaving a dumbfounded Isaac.
Moments later, Scott and Isaac looked up in the distance, their attention drawn to a gunshot sound. Scott hopped onto his bike, and sensing his intention, Alistair quickly joined him on the seat. With a determined expression, Scott revved the engine and darted into the forest, being followed closely by Isaac and Allison on foot. Meanwhile, Michelle, Stiles, and Lydia remained behind to guard the entrance, their eyes fixed on the disappearing figures.
(...)
It didn't take long for Stiles' father to call the boy, delivering urgent news. Malia's father had gone into the forest with a rifle, and Malia had taken the baby doll from her house.
"She took the doll again. What the hell is so important about this doll?" Stiles questioned his father, as Lydia and Michelle exchanged a confused look.
Hanging up the call, Stiles voiced her thoughts, "Why would she go to the school and then to her house just for a doll? It's the same doll that was in the car wreck, not in the coyote den."
As Stiles tried to make sense of the situation, Lydia paced anxiously, while Michelle deep in thought. When Lydia began questioning Stiles about the doll, he showed them a photo. In the picture, two little girls stood side by side. The younger girl was holding the doll, while Malia stood beside her.
"Stiles, Malia isn't the one holding the doll," Lydia pointed out.
"It's her little sister," Stiles concluded, realization dawning upon him.
Suddenly, it all clicked in Michelle's mind. "If she took the doll back, she'll go to the car wreck then," she exclaimed. Facing the bewildered and questioning expressions of the others, she elaborated, "The car wreck is where her sister died, it's like her sister's tomb to her. The doll is like flowers. By taking the doll, you essentially went to her sister's grave and took away her flowers."
The gravity of the situation sank in, and the trio exchanged looks, now understanding the significance of Malia's actions.
Stiles went on to try and call Scott, while Michelle choose to just texted Alistair.
(...)
While riding on the bike, Alistair's attention was abruptly drawn to Scott's sudden reaction. He watched as Scott clutched his head, not wasting time, he abruptly leaped off the bike, seeing it crash down moments later. Concerned, Alistair approached Scott, who fell with the bike, he questioned him about what happened, and Scott explained that he had heard Isaac screaming in pain. Alistair found himself torn between going back to Isaac or continuing with Scott.
Scott insisted that Alistair should go to the injured beta, but Alistair made a different choice. Instead, he dialed Allison's number without wasting a second. As soon as she answered, he wasted no time in getting to the point. "What happened?"
"Isaac stepped on a bear trap. Don't worry, I'm with him," she explained urgently.
Without further delay, Alistair ended the call, helping Scott to his feet, and they resumed their journey. Meanwhile, he saw the text message Michelle sent him regarding Malia, instructing him to go to the car accident. Firmly gripping Scott's arm, he pulled the boy closer and quickly relayed the newly acquired information. Together, they pressed forward, driven by urgency.
(...)
As Stiles desperately tried to get Scott to answer his phone, Michelle's attention was abruptly drawn to Lydia. She watched in horror as Lydia inadvertently stepped on a bear trap, and her immediate instinct was to intervene and prevent any further harm.
"Lydia, stop!" Michelle called out urgently, raising her arms in a gesture for Lydia to remain still. "Don't move." She tried her best to project a calm and composed demeanor.
Approaching the scene, Stiles rushed to help, but Lydia instructed him to search for the disarming instructions. Confused, Stiles questioned who would even include disarming instructions on a trap. Lydia, with a deadpan expression, she simply replied, "Because animals can't read."
Stiles crouched down, frantically searching for the tag with instructions, only to realize he couldn't read them. Desperation laced his voice as he turned to Michelle, suggesting she use some kind of spell to disarm the trap, "you're a witch, do a spell on it or something."
However, Michelle quickly dismissed the idea, with an exasperated tone. "This isn't Harry Potter, there's no 'bear trap disarming spell'. I mean, I could freeze it," then, with a deadpanned expression, added, "alongside Lydia's foot." Seeing as both went immediately pale, she added, "I can contain the energy around it, so it won't snap in the second it's supposed to, but you need to disarm it."
Feeling the panic escalate, Lydia took it upon herself to lift Stiles' spirits. With unwavering confidence, she assured him of his brilliance and his unquestioned problem-solving skills. "You don't need instructions. You're brilliant, you always figure stuff out because that's what you do, Stiles. You figure stuff out."
Michelle extended her hand toward the trap, beginning to chant in hushed whispers, "Glacies Corporis," channeling her energy into freezing the trap in place. Meanwhile, Stiles meticulously located the large wheel on the side of the trap, his fingers trembling as he turned it to disarm the mechanism. With a swift motion, he grabbed Lydia's foot and pulled her away from the trap, coinciding with the moment Michelle intensified the energy flow, effectively freezing the trap in its entirety.
(...)
As Scott fervently pursued Malia through the forest, Alistair made the split-second decision to take a different path, opting for a shortcut that would allow him to reach their destination faster. Arriving at the site of the car accident, he swiftly set down his backpack on the ground and swiftly climbed up a nearby tree, positioning himself for a clear shot with his rifle as he awaited their arrival.
Just as he saw Malia arrive and was about to pull the trigger, Scott landed directly in front of the coyote. The coyote bared its teeth and emitted an angry growl, while Scott gathered himself, taking a few moments to collect his more primitive instincts. Then, raising his head with eyes glowing a fiery red crimson, Scott emitted a thunderous growl that reverberated throughout the entire forest. It was a commanding and imposing sound, deep and powerful.
Descending from the tree as the resonating growl continued, Alistair observed how the coyote began to stumble backward, lowering its head in submission. And then, something truly wonderful spectacle unfolded before his eyes. The coyote began to undergo a gradual transformation. Its bones started to break and rearrange, yet the process appeared serene and natural, unlike the painful shifting experienced by the werewolves Alistair was accustomed to witnessing. Seconds later, in place of the coyote, lay a girl no older than themselves.
Reaching his bag and retrieving a blanket from it, Alistair approached the girl, who was still in a state of bewilderment, glancing around as if it were her first time seeing the world. She examined her own hands, trying to comprehend what had just occurred. Kneeling beside her, Alistair gently extended the blanket, covering her body with care. Looking into her eyes, he offered a reassuring smile and said, "It's okay, love. Just wait here." Though uncertain if she fully understood his words, he could have sworn he saw her nod in acknowledgment.
Now they had to wait for the sheriff and David to arrive, who would take the girl back to the safety of her rightful home. Alistair looked up at Scott and nodded approvingly, but remained by the girl's side, providing a comforting presence as they waited.
(...)
As they cautiously walked through the house, their footsteps echoing in the dimly lit corridors, they finally arrived at the biggest room. Derek's hand gripped John's arm, guiding him toward a chest nestled in a corner, shrouded in shadow.
With a determined resolve, Derek extended his hand to open the chest, only to recoil in shock as his fingertips grazed the smooth surface. The chest was crafted from the wood of a Rowan Tree, also known as Mountain Ash. Undeterred, John stepped forward, using his leg to break the lock.
As the lid creaked open, the insides of the chest were completely filled with mountain ash dust.
There, amidst the remnants of the powerful protective substance, lay a container crafted in the shape of a sleek cylinder. Its top was adorned with an intricate symbol, a prominent triskelion.
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－ ３２８２ ｗｏｒｄｓ －
Author's note
We've surpassed 1,6k reads!! That's wild! TYSM to every single one of you.💜🥺💜
How do you guys feel about the crossover? Any theories? Thoughts?
What pairings would you like to see in the future? Thoughts on the current ones?
Comments, votes and follows are always appreciated.
- 𝒿. 𝒻. 𝒸. 🐼💜