As the group gathered around the table, Peter couldn't help but grumble when Braeden casually rested her feet on a table. "The table is Italian," he said in an annoyed tone.
Unfazed, she retorted with a hint of sass, "Just like these boots. Are we going to discuss interior design and fashion, or get down to business and numbers?"
Derek and John exchanged amused glances at Braeden's response. Peter, eager to steer the conversation back on track, so they could be done with it, scribbled a number on a piece of paper and slid it towards her. Braeden glanced at it briefly before, confidently and considerably, increasing the figure, showing what she meant with business.
Peter raised an eyebrow, feeling a bit exasperated. "We're hiring you to find Kate, not to plan the President's assassination." Looking at John, Peter added, "You're his boyfriend, do something."
Chuckling, John looked back at Derek, and they shared a knowing glance. "The Calaveras hired us to find Kate, you are hiring us to find her sooner. Our betrayal to The Calaveras comes at a high price."
Peter huffed, trying to make another offer, but his attempts were met with firm rejections once more.
They were getting desperate; an entire week had passed, and they hadn't made any progress in finding the cunning werejaguar. This frustration led John offering to reach out to Braeden, hoping her expertise in hunting down individuals for a living, could turn the tide in their favor.
Tired of the back-and-forth, Derek took the paper with the numbers and ripped it up, sending a clear message that they were willing to pay any price if they succeeded in locating Kate.
Entering the locker room after lacrosse practice, surrounded by guys changing, and the not so pleasing smell of their bodies, was not something Alistair would have willingly even think of doing. However, he had missed the morning practice, having promised Liam that he would be there, and now he felt the need to apologize to the boy.
To his surprise, he found Scott and Stiles cornering Liam, bombarding him with an endless plethora of questions about his exceptional skills on the field and dropping not-so-subtle hints about the possibility of lycanthropy, making Alistair palm himself at how obvious and stupid those two could be. Liam appeared visibly uncomfortable, and Alistair couldn't stand by and watch his new little friend being interrogated.
Deciding to intervene, Alistair stepped forward after Liam explained that his stepfather had taught him how to play lacrosse because he was once the team captain in high school. With a confident tone, Alistair stated, "I think the boy's just that good." His words grabbed the attention of the trio, snapping their heads to look at him, and while Scott and Stiles received hard glares from Alistair, making them swallow hard, Liam smiled gratefully at Alistair.
"Alistair," Liam's voice sounded a little high-pitched, but it carried a touch of relief as he acknowledged his presence, and Alistair, with a smile, gestured towards the exit, silently suggesting they leave the locker room.
With a reassuring hand on Liam's shoulder, Alistair addressed him, deciding to ignore the other two, "Sorry I couldn't make it to your practice. Honestly, I overslept." They left the locker room, engaging in a casual conversation as they walked, before parting ways to head to their respective classes.
In the math class, as Alistair entered the classroom, he couldn't help but overhear Malia, Lydia, and Stiles bantering about the importance of math, with Stiles remarking that it was most important related to tips in restaurants, the Keeper huffed, seating down, before the professor called for volunteers, ones that didn't volunteer themselves. Malia, Lydia, and Alistair were singled out as 'volunteers' and reluctantly made their way to the front of the classroom.
As Alistair stood in front of his equation, he paused for a moment, mentally calculating the answer before confidently writing it on the board, not as swiftly as Lydia, but definitely faster than Malia, who seemed a bit lost in the middle of the board, clearly struggling.
Lydia noticed Malia's struggle, and noticing the girl hadn't written anything, she inquired, in a whispery tone, "Didn't you review the notes I lent you?"
Malia whispered back, "I did, but I don't get it."
Alistair chimed in, "I thought Michelle was helping you."
The werecoyote defended herself with frustration, "I don't get math!"
Frowning at Malia's apparent distress, rolling her eyes annoyed, Lydia provided the solution, revealing that X equaled twenty-five. Relieved, Malia wrote it down, but her anxiety and distress had caused her claws to bare, gripping the chalk tightly.
Alistair couldn't help but comment, "Honey, put the claws away." Then, he and Lydia finished, leaving the board.
After the class concluded, Alistair, Scott, and Kira walked alongside Stiles, who couldn't stop talking about an axe murderer who had killed an entire family. Stiles seemed to suspect a supernatural connection, and although Alistair and David shared similar suspicions, they were still investigating, not wanting to get everyone else involved without further proof. The others thought it best to let the adults and police officers handle the case until their assistance was truly needed. Stiles disagreed, but they left for their economy class, the topic lingering in their minds.
Finally, being true to his word, Alistair found himself sitting alongside a very excited Michelle, Kira, and Malia on the bleachers, their schoolbooks still in hand, as they watched the lacrosse practice unfold on the field.
The practice started as usual, with the players running around the field while the coach let a heavy rain of insults fall over them. By the end of it, everyone looked exhausted, except for Liam, who seemed like he had just been fully recharged. In all honesty, Alistair was surprised himself with the amount of stamina the boy carried in such little body.
Amidst Michelle's excitement at seeing Liam, something that didn't go unnoticed by Alistair, she still tried to help Malia with her homework. However, after a while, both girls stopped and turned their attention to Kira, sensing something was off. Concerned and a little annoyed, Malia asked, "What's wrong?"
Kira attempted to appear nonchalant, but her anxiety was evident to the others. "With me? N-Nothing."
Huffing, Michelle couldn't help but point out matter-of-factly, "Sweety, you reek of anxiety, and it's distracting."
Caught off guard, and being cornered, Kira then opened up about her struggles with school and her longing for things to be different, expressing how she felt her relationship with Scott might end without being actually anything important, and how much she longed for it to be more.
On the field, Alistair couldn't help but feel secondhand embarrassment as he watched Scott and Stiles struggle during practice. Their performance was far from impressive, and it almost pained him physically to witness their lack of skill. Alongside Kira and Michelle, he couldn't help but wonder if Scott, as the team's captain, was expected to be more proficient in the sport, or at the very least, good at it.
It was evident that Scott was holding back his supernatural abilities, as he should, but even without his self restriction, Alistair didn't feel there would be much improvement in his performance.
On the other side, Alistair made sure to show his enthusiasm and support him every time Liam excelled in his training, waving at him and cheering. Every time he would draw Liam's attention towards him, the boy reciprocated with a warm smile and a wave. Alistair loved to see Liam's face light up like an excited puppy every time he scored a point, returning to his teammates with their cheers echoing in the air.
After a while, the coach decided to test Scott and Stiles as guards, challenging them to stop everyone coming their way. Miraculously, Scott and Stiles seemed to finally find their rhythm on the field, and their performance improved significantly, earning cheers and support from all their friends.
They were able to successfully stop every single person in the team so far. However, their winning streak was interrupted when it was Liam's turn to face them. The way the young boy moved on the field was the testimony of the countless hours he had dedicated to training and perfecting his skills. Liam's determination and skill paid off, as he became the only one in the entire team to successfully score a goal against Scott and Stiles.
Amidst the cheers for Liam's impressive display, Malia stood up and challenged the coach, claiming it was just luck. "Do over." She demanded.
Dismissing her demand, the coach responded, "Honey, there ain't no do-overs, this is a practice,"
Undeterred, Malia bet 10 bucks on Scott and Stiles to stop Liam, while Alistair confidently bet 20 bucks on Liam, much to the surprise and amusement of everyone, Scott and Stiles a little offended. The Keeper only shrugged, not giving it much thought.
With the challenge accepted, and now smirking, the coach called for a do-over, and the players faced each other once again, getting in position. Alistair watched from the bleachers as Scott, with a determined expression, took Liam over his shoulder and forcefully threw him to the ground. The impact of the fall echoed across the field, and Alistair felt the need to intervene when he saw Liam struggling to get back on his feet.
Disregarding the distance, Alistair lashed himself off the bleachers to help the young boy. After arguing with the coach about the intensity of the play, Scott and Alistair decided to assist Liam, supporting him, with each arm on both of their shoulders, they carried him towards the nursing area for care and attention.
As Derek goes through the files Braeden had acquired from the sheriff's station, all related to the mysterious axe killer, he voiced, "This has nothing to do with Kate. The killer used an axe."
John gracefully steps up behind Derek, enveloping the man's waist with his arms and resting his chin comfortably over Derek's shoulder. "Actually, it was a military tomahawk," John interjects in a calm voice.
Derek tilts his head, directing an inquisitive gaze at John. "But that wasn't on the report," he counters.
John playfully teases, smirking, "Well, we have to keep certain stuff, you know, to keep things interesting," and gently leaves a soft, affectionate kiss on Derek's neck.
Derek chuckles silently, his chest vibrating with amusement. "And do you plan on sharing this information with me soon?" he inquires.
John steps around, positioning himself in front of Derek, and their eyes lock in a moment of connection. "There's not much to say at the moment, but the people we need to talk to, don't speak with people like you," John explains, finishing with a playful finger on Derek's nose.
Derek raises an eyebrow, "People like me?" he inquires with a playful glimmer in his eyes.
"People who tend to make more demands than offers," John responds, tilting his head slightly so that his lips are merely centimeters from Derek's. Locking eyes with Derek, John continues, "I need you to trust me."
"I trust you with my life. But I don't know anything about her." Derek admits, embracing his arms securely around the Keeper's waist.
"You'll know in due time, and I think I know how to defend myself." John retorts with a smug smirk, exuding self-assurance.
A knowing smile creeps across Derek's face. "Oh, I'm well aware of that," he quips playfully before closing the distance between them, initiating a passionate and intimate kiss.
After a few lingering moments of affection, John withdraws slightly, nuzzling his nose gently against Derek's. "I'll tell you everything when I return," he whispers, his gaze fixed on Derek's captivating green eyes.
John bids Derek farewell with a final tender kiss on the cheek, then proceeds to put on his leather jacket as he makes his way toward the door. Derek stands by the table, crossing his arms over his chest, visibly concerned.
"Take care," Derek calls out to John as he retreats.
John glances back at Derek, a wide smile gracing his face. "I always do," he assures, and with that, he leaves the loft, leaving Derek with a mix of emotions.
Alistair strode into the hospital's bustling emergency room, carrying Liam carefully in a bridal-style hold, with Scott and Stiles leading the way, urgently searching for Melissa. Moments later, Scott's mom emerged from a room, being cornered by the teenagers.
After a quick explanation, the woman ordered the staff to fetch a wheelchair for Liam's transport.
Placing a comforting hand on Liam's shoulder, Alistair assured him, "I'll be waiting for you, okay?" Liam nodded softly, looking a little bit scared, as Melissa wheeled him away for examination.
As the frenetic atmosphere subsided, and the adrenaline rush died, Alistair found himself seething with anger, channeling every ounce of self-control to contain his rage. It took every single fiber of his being as to restrain himself from jumping over Scott and poison him with all the wolfsbane he was carrying on himself.
Sensing the intensity of Alistair's anger drowning the place, Scott and Stiles exchanged concerned glances, contemplating whether it was best to make a quick escape or face his wrath. However, before they could make a decision, Alistair turned his steely gaze upon them, and the weight of his disapproval was palpable. Scott, feeling remorseful, looked to be on the verge of tears, began to speak, but Alistair interrupted him, his voice, closer to a growl rather than the eloquent tone he usually spoke in, was laced with anger, "What. The hell. Is wrong. With you?" Alistair's accusatory finger pointed at the alpha.
Stiles, looking ashen, even paler than he already was, took a cautious step toward the exit, but Alistair's sharp warning halted him in his tracks. "Don't you even think about leaving," Alistair warned. Just hearing his voice directed at him, Stiles tripped, almost falling to the floor, raising his arms in surrender.
Scott stumbled over his words, trying to explain, "I -We -It's not what it looks like," Scott almost begged.
But Alistair pressed on, "Great, so, you mean to tell me that the circus show you put out there wasn't because you were jealous or scared to lose your captain title?" The best friends stood there, rendered speechless, unable to conjure any reasonable excuse, their mouths opening and closing in confusion, like fishes out of the water. "I'm quite certain you encouraged him," Alistair accused Stiles with a piercing gaze.
Stiles choked, taken aback, and managed to gasp, "You heard us?"
With an annoyed eyeroll, Alistair retorted, "I don't need to." He glanced towards the hallway where Melissa had taken Liam before returning his focus to the boys, both appearing like scolded children, guilt etched on their faces. "I hope you two realize that if Liam doesn't recover from this, it's your fault." Without waiting for a response, he turned away and strode towards Liam's room, leaving behind the guilt swallowed friends.
Upon entering the room where Liam was being treated in, Alistair noticed that the doctor attending to him was the same man he had that accompanied Liam on his first day at school—a realization that the doctor was likely Liam's stepfather.
"My apologies," Alistair excused himself when the doctor and Liam looked up at him. He glanced at Liam and said, "I can come back later," he turned to leave, but Liam promptly called him back.
"It's okay, Al, you can stay," the boy reassured him, seeking his presence for comfort. He looked at the doctor, "Right?"
The doctor smiled kindly and confirmed, "I don't see a problem with that." Alistair returned the smile. After a moment, the doctor seemed to recognize him, "You're the principal's son, right?"
Alistair affirmed with a smile, "That I am," walking to stand next to Liam, where he noticed the boy's swollen and purplish leg with concern, suppressing an internal wince at the sight. The sight of Liam appearing on the verge of tears tugged at Alistair's heart. "You think it's broken?" Liam inquired, seeking reassurance from his stepfather.
"We'll have to wait for some X-rays to confirm," the doctor responded in a soothing tone.
Frustrated, Liam concluded, "It's broken, and it's all my fault."
Alistair furrowed his brows and firmly asserted, "No, it's not your fault. You only did what the coach asked you to do."
The doctor expressed concern and asked, "Want to tell me what happened?"
Liam explained, looking so small and vulnerable, reminding Alistair he was still a child, "I went up against two juniors—one of them is the team's captain." Alistair placed a comforting hand on Liam's shoulder, while the doctor offered support on the other side, doing the same.
The doctor reminded Liam, "Do you remember what we always say? Be smart, not hard."
Liam seemed unsure and asked, "Are you mad at me?" avoiding eye contact.
The doctor dismissed the idea, showing understanding, "Of course not." He added with a smile, "Your mother might be mad at me for teaching you lacrosse, but we still have to wait for the results before getting all worked up." He encouraged Liam to rest and took his leave, bidding farewell to Alistair. "Please rest. It was a pleasure to meet you, Alistair. I'll come later."
"Likewise, sir," said Alistair as the doctor left.
Once they were alone in the room, Liam started to fidget with his fingers in an anxious manner. Seeing as the boy was getting all worked up about his leg, Alistair pulled a chair closer to the bed and seating, he gently held the boy's hands. "Don't work yourself over it, Little One, no matter how much you think about it, it won't change anything, you'll just end up with a headache." Alistair reassured him. He noticed how Liam blushed, all flustered up. Unsure if it was because of the physical contact or the new choice of pet name, when Alistair made to withdraw his hands, Liam grabbed them, seeking comfort, his cheeks flushed taking a color reminiscing of a tomato. Alistair only chuckled at Liam's cuteness.
They sat in a comforting silence for about fifteen minutes, until the serenity of the hospital was abruptly interrupted by female terror screams echoing through the hospital, followed by Scott's powerful alpha roar reverberating through the halls. As Liam looked anxiously toward the door, Alistair got up from his chair, walking to the door with Liam trailing behind him, limping, despite Alistair's attempts to persuade him to stay in bed.
Behind them sounded a growl. As they turned around, they were met with the sight of a blond teenager, not older than seventeen, standing in the hallway. His clothes were stained with blood, which ominously dripped from his mouth, revealing two rows of shark-like teeth as he opened it.
Without hesitation, Alistair swiftly retrieved two large penknives from his jeans, urging Liam, "Run, Liam," His voice was grave while he kept a permanent eye on the Wendigo.
As Liam hobbled away, Alistair attempted to reason with the creature, "I don't think you want to do this." However, the Wendigo responded with another menacing growl, his eyes glowing white, indicating his hostile intention. Alistair sighed, realizing that this confrontation would not be easily resolved.
Knowing that the Wendigo had recently fed, hinted by his bloody state, Alistair knew that the creature's strength was at its peak. As the Wendigo lunged at him, moving with incredible speed, Alistair found himself thrown to the ground during their tussle. Despite the struggle, Alistair managed to plunge one of the penknives into the creature's abdomen, eliciting a pained howl.
Desperately fighting to keep the Wendigo's teeth away from his body, Alistair was reminded of his vulnerability as a human. He was able to deliver a kick to the wounded abdomen, taking the beast off himself.
After catching his breath, the Wendigo used both of his fists, connecting them with Alistair's abdomen, raising him off the floor and colliding his body with superhuman strength against the wall with its superhuman force. The impact was brutal, and Alistair heard the sickening sound of a couple of his ribs breaking, still, he was thankful the guy used his punches and not his claws. The Wendigo's sadistically grinned as he relished the damage and pain inflicted upon Alistair.
Just as the Wendigo was about to bite him, a fierce roar echoed through the hall, and Scott appeared, swiftly intervening and pulling the creature away from Alistair. And the Wendigo seemed momentarily startled by the unexpected resistance.
Seizing the opportunity to escape, the boy fled, leaving Alistair nursing his injuries with Scott's assistance. The pain was sharp, but Alistair's determination to protect Liam kept him grounded.
"I'm fine," Alistair hissed through greeted teeth. As Scott hesitated to leave, Alistair insisted, "You need to find Liam, and fast," urging the werewolf to prioritize the boy's safety. He gave Scott a determined glare, making it clear that there was no time for debate. "Move!"
Scott nodded in understanding, his instincts urging him to act quickly. With a final glance at Alistair, he dashed off in search of Liam, leaving the Keeper to catch his breath and assess his injuries.
Feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Alistair reached for his phone to text Michelle for assistance. His fingers trembled slightly as he typed the message, requesting her to come to the hospital immediately.
After taking a couple of minutes to catch his breath, Alistair mustered the strength to follow in Scott's footsteps. Each step he took, and every single move of his body, sent searing and burning pain through his entire thoracic cavity, making every breath feel like fire coming down his throat.
As he approached the stairs, the cacophony of screams and growls intensified, indicating the intense battle raging above. The wendigo, Scott, and a terrified Liam were entangled in a dangerous standoff on the rooftop.
Summoning his resolve, Alistair walked up until he was behind the wendigo and plunged his penknives into the creature's back, piercing the skin. The wendigo growled in pain, swiftly turning and delivering a powerful punch to Alistair's gut, sending him stumbling backward, colliding with something nearby, hitting his back and his head. Meanwhile, Liam's grip on the edge faltered, and Scott, in a daring move, used his mouth to grab Liam's arm, preventing him from falling.
Exclaiming under his breath, "Fuck," Alistair observed an axe being driven into the wendigo's back, its lethal force poised to end the creature's life, making it drop blood from its mouth before falling to the ground, lifeless.
An unfamiliar figure appeared on the scene, a tall and robust man dressed in some kind of attire, resembling a military one, apparently the one responsible for wielding the axe. The man swiftly withdrew the weapon, just as Scott successfully pulled Liam to safety.
Before Alistair could process the stranger's presence further, the enigmatic figure gestured for silence, placing a finger over his nonexistent lips, because it didn't have any kind of mouth, signaling them to keep quiet. And before anyone could do anything, the man departed.
The events unfolded rapidly, and as the adrenaline coursed through and then off of Alistair's veins, everything around him seemed to blur into a dark haze, unable to conserve any kind of cohesive thinking. In the midst of the chaos, a female voice called out to him, but his body betrayed him, and he felt himself succumbing to the overwhelming exhaustion and pain.
The world faded into darkness, and the last thing Alistair perceived was the faint sound of the female voice calling his name before his body went limp.
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－ ３９４７ ｗｏｒｄｓ －
Author's note
Don't you guys think Liam is the cutest? I swear, I love him.
How was you guys' Halloween? Did anything special?
Votes, comments and follows are always appreciated.
- 𝒿. 𝒻. 𝒸. 🐼💜