(A/N): Greetings, lovelies! It is us, Ashley and Dakota, otherwise known as Dash, here to give you all a well-deserved Valentine's Day gift: the next chapter of Disturbing the Void! Yes, we know, we know, it took us a very, very, verylong time to get this chapter done. In our defense, we were not expecting school to get so demanding, and for our lives to become so hectic. But, all that is in the past (HOPEFULLY), and here is the next chapter that we hope will satisfy you hungry, hungry readers. This chapter is well over 30 pages long, and though it is not canon, we find that it explores the relationships between our daughter, Mercy, and various other canon characters. We felt the time between Eichen and the finale of this installment of season 3 was a little short, so we decided to extend it by a couple days. Some of you might find it a little tedious, but fear not! We are exploring uncharted waters, true, but our course is clear and we shall be docking soon enough. Anyways, enough of our unnecessary tangents, as you can see we are a tad delirious with the excitement of finally uploading this chapter. Also, we would like to apologize for any possible grammatical errors that we may have overlooked. Not to mention, the lack of Stiles Stilinski in this chapter. He'll be joining us soon. Well, Void!Stiles will be joining us soon… Anyways, ENJOY! Feel free to review with comments, suggestions, riddles, anything. We love it when you guys leave us messages. Thanks to all those who have, you mean the world to us. And thank you for being patient with us! (Remember comments are love! And it's Valentine's Day! Aka the day of love… I think you catch our drift.)

Warning(s): Some strong language, Possible trigger(s): stress, bruises, brief mention(s) of abuse, brief mention of a panic attack

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, negotiations fell through and Jeff still won't let us have a piece of the Teen Wolf pie, so we're sad about that, but, the bright side is Mercy Jacobs and her influence on the TW-verse still remains ours, so there's that...

Chapter 5: Little Empath

"I'll ride with you, Chris. I want to hear more about this hunter business," she smiled to the greying man, already leaning back in the driver's seat, as she opened the passenger door. He revved the engine, and as soon as Mercy was situated, he backed up, shifting gears every so often, and followed behind Lydia as they drove towards the high school.

They had arrived shortly before the first bell. Allison and Lydia had scurried off to their own classes soon after they had parked, and Mercy was left to follow Chris towards the high school's registration office. Once there, they were told to sit and wait, while the secretary attended the couple that had come in before them. Mercy, who had her legs crossed at the ankle and arms crossed over her chest, couldn't seem to still her fingers, which were tapping a nervous rhythm on her right arm. She couldn't help but recall when she had stilled Stiles' nervous tick back in Eichen. It seemed so long ago now, almost a completely different life. So much had already changed since Eichen and she knew it was only the beginning.

"Nervous?" Chris asked his "niece".

"Who, me? Nah. What makes you say such?" Mercy asked in return, looking at him, pulling her eyes from one of the "inspirational" posters attached to the walls of the office; it was of a cat hanging from a tree with the caption "Hang in there!" underneath. Pretty sure every school since the start of the century had that poster somewhere on a wall. She had decided that the school system was well aware of how much torture it was to attend school if they needed to reassure you to "Hang in there!" with cute, little, kitty cats holding on for dear life as inspiration. Chris, with a quirked eyebrow, looked pointedly at Mercy's fingers before returning the girl's gaze. Mercy slowed her movements before stilling them completely and uncrossing her arms. She simply gave a shrug, which earned her a small smile from the older man.

"Don't be nervous. It's just high school, right?"

"Is that supposed to reassure me or?" Mercy asked him, with a bit of incredulity seeping into her tone, because, honestly, he couldn't be serious. High school was a modern day hell on earth. "I mean, you've been to high school, right?"

"Fair enough. Just remember to keep your chin up," Chris told her genially. Mercy looked at Chris for a brief second before facing forward once more. He radiated a sort of tranquility, amongst his other emotions, which Mercy decided to latch onto and "borrow" to help calm her own emotions. From what she could tell, the Empath had somehow learned that she could "borrow" emotions for herself or for others without diminishing the emotion of the person she was taking it from in the first place. It was a handy trick, if she was being honest with herself. It all still confused her, but Mercy knew she couldn't run from her powers, so she might as well embrace them. She was glad to have Chris with his calm demeanour by her side because otherwise, Mercy knew she would be a complete wreck.

"Thanks," Mercy said quietly, seeing Chris' simple nod in response out of the corner of her eye. They stayed quiet for the rest of their wait and before she knew it their names were called.

"Mr. Argent?" the secretary to the registrar's office spoke up from behind her computer screen. "Unfortunately, our registration counselor is out sick today, but the principal will be more than happy to assist you two today," the middle-aged, brunette woman explained, with an apologetic smile to Mercy and her new uncle.

"As long as my niece gets the attention she deserves, I don't see it being a problem," Chris told her, throwing in a charming grin for bonus effect. Mercy saw the woman almost melt in her desk chair, forcing the Empath to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

"We will certainly make sure she is taken care of, Mr. Argent," she said, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. Mercy nearly lost it at that movement. When the woman called to see if the principal was, indeed, ready for them, Mercy snickered, giving Chris a playful elbow to the side.

"Smooth," she whispered out of the side of her mouth. Chris merely smirked in return, with a barely discernible nod in thanks.

"Principal Thomas will see you now, Mr. Argent, Miss Argent," the secretary told the duo, not forgetting to give Chris a parting smile. He only nodded back, and Mercy held back another snicker, as they walked into the small office.

"G- Good morning, Mr. Argent," Principal Thomas greeted from behind his desk, with a shaky voice. There was a thin sheen of sweat forming on the older man's brow. He stood and offered a sweaty handshake to Chris, and then to Mercy, who felt the waves of nervousness and an intense fear oozing from his pores. "P- Please, take a se- seat. How can I b- be of assistance t- today?" he stuttered.

"Well, my niece here, Mercy, recently moved to town. She is now under my custody," Christ explained. "Since she will be living with me from now on, I figured it would be best to enroll at the high school as soon as possible. Here are her papers," Chris pulled out a small stack of, obvious to Mercy, forged papers. "They should all be there." Principal Thomas nervously flipped through the stack, Mercy could sense his fear like a sack of bricks being slapped upside her head. She tightened her fist, hoping to keep herself tethered to the real world. Chris side-eyed her, noting the movement, but made no other acknowledgement.

"Yes, yes, they are a- all here." The principal placed the papers down and started typing furiously on his computer. Chris patiently waited for the process to finish, while Mercy chewed on the inside of her cheek, praying Chris' skills in forgery were as good as she had hoped they were. After a long ten minutes later, in which Principal Thomas asked a few questions regarding Mercy's schedule, the process was complete.

"Alright, there's just one more step I need to complete. This is the physical copy of the emergency contact information that the school is required to keep on file at all times," the older man slid a slip of paper with a pen across the desk to Chris. "Errm… If you don't mind my asking, what happened?" he gestured, rather vaguely, towards Mercy's arms, which she quickly went to cover with her hands. She was officially uncomfortable, to say the least. Chris sensed as much, looking at the poor girl, becoming incensed on her behalf. Mercy didn't know how to feel about that. Nor did she know how to feel about the pity that was now coming from Thomas as he eyed her bruised appendages. The man having any kind of change in emotions towards her appearance, was based on completely unfounded principles. "What the hell does he think happened to me? Crap, does he think I was abused?" Mercy thought, a slight frown forming on her face.

"Well, Mr. Thomas, I do mind you asking. Why Mercy was given into my custody is quite frankly, none of your business," Chris jumped to Mercy's defense. His change in sentiment was nearly as confounding as Principal Thomas'. Chris' anger was very much present now, when it wasn't a few moments before. Mercy was surprised that her fake uncle would come to her aid so quickly, and with such fervor, but she was grateful, all the same. Chris stood over Mr. Thomas now, his shadow loomed over the shorter man. Mercy saw, as well as felt, the fear pool in the man's eyes, but she couldn't summon even an ounce of pity for him. "Serves him right for making crazy assumptions like that. Even if they seemed fairly well grounded; these bruises look like someone beat me with a bat. Damn..." Mercy inwardly ranted to herself. While she was consumed by her thoughts, Mr. Thomas hastened to print Mercy's schedule, and take the half filled contact card from the desk space in front of Argent. With a trembling hand, he handed the schedule to Chris, who snatched it without looking. His eyes were too busy burning holes into Mr. Thomas' skull.

"Have a great day, Mr. Thomas," Chris threw over his shoulder, as he exited the office. The secretary from before, tried batting her, obviously just-brushed-with-cheap-mascara, eyelashes towards Chris, but he barely even registered the woman. Mercy followed behind the fast walking man, pausing to take her textbooks from the secretary, who now wore a sad frown. Mercy shot her an apologetic smile, and followed Chris into the empty hallway. He paused mid stride and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Mercy. I didn't know he was going to ask that," he sighed, turning back to face Mercy. There may have been the words "uncouth" and "imbecile" mumbled, as well, but Mercy didn't acknowledge it.

"It's fine, really. I don't blame him, my bruises got worse last night. Gifts from Eichen," she shifted, to rest her pile of textbooks against her hip, wanting to drop them to rub her arms and soothe the deep ache that suddenly cried out from within her bones. "You know… when I first walked into his office, I was overwhelmed by his fear. Even now, out here, I still sense it. Did you ever… do anything to him? I mean, I'm not trying to be shady or anything, but fear like that only comes from people who have… encountered certain things before, and would much rather not repeat the experience," Mercy asked, looking up at the blue-eyed man.

"I've done things I'm not proud of, Mercy; things from before my honor code changed. Mr. Thomas was on the wrong side of that change," Chris gave a world-weary sigh, not as ready to look the girl in the eye as he was previously.

"So, what's your honor code now?"

"Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes," Chris told her, looking the girl dead in the eye once more.

"We protect those who cannot protect themselves," Mercy translates, before her eyes widen. Chris quirks a brow, impressed.

"You speak French," he says. It's not a question, but Mercy shakes her head rapidly.

"Um, no. No, I do not. Like, at all. I don't think I've ever even heard it before today. "Frère Jacques" is as far as it goes for me," she clarified. "I mean… Spanish is the only foreign language I have ever studied, and even then, it was just the one year I needed for my graduation requirement. This… This is weird," she ranted, kind of freaking out because how in the hell?

"Hey, hey," Chris placed his hand on Mercy shoulder. "Don't panic. We'll figure it out. Okay? We'll do some research after school, see what kind of answers we can come up with," he consoled Mercy. She nodded in response and took a few deep breaths.

"Okay. After school, then," she answered, more to herself than to Chris. She glanced down at her class schedule, which rested face-up on her textbooks. "My first class is… Introduction to Business? Ugh," she sighed, not entirely pleased.

"Hey, at least it's better than woodshop, which was the only other option. Allison has that class, so you won't be alone," Chris smiled. Mercy nodded, and noted the double-meaning. Sure, she would know someone so she wasn't sitting completely alone in the classroom, but then again, that someone was keeping a wary eye on her, in case Mercy snapped. Or started spouting random languages that she shouldn't be able to speak or understand. Yeah, this was going to be a blast.

She waved goodbye to Chris and turned in search of the classroom that held her first period. Mercy tried to steady her breathing and calm her nerves. Just being in the hall of a high school was quite the ordeal for an Empath. There were so many emotions. You'd think it would be worse in a mental health facility, but for Mercy, school had always been the onslaught. Not to mention, her "power" seemed to be extra sensitive these last few days, so that didn't help matters in the slightest. Every door she passed had people behind them who were filled to the brim with colliding emotions. Anxiety, depression, lust, love, worry, stress, anger, fear, and various other things that teenagers weren't supposed to be able to feel, if you asked most adults. High school was rough and Mercy not only had to deal with her own personal emotions, but with those belonging to all the other hormonal teenagers in the building, as well. It was just… Loud. Cacophonous, even.

Taking a deep breath as she came across the door that held her first class, she hoisted her textbooks in one arm, turned the doorknob and pushed. Everyone turned to look at the door, happy for a distraction, Mercy was sure, but she didn't enjoy being stared at, regardless. At the front of the room stood a man with dark, slightly spikey hair wearing a polo and what could only be described as an annoyed expression. He also had a whistle hanging around his neck. Mercy knew from experience that meant only one thing: he was the resident coach. Hooray.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, bluntly.

"Um, Mercy J- Argent? Sir," she replied, awkwardly pulling her crop top slightly lower, where it had hiked up from her textbooks, to make sure her skin was covered. She knew it came out as a question and she was hoping no one would notice. Not to mention, the slight slip of the beginning of her real name.

"Another one?" he tossed his head back, running a calloused hand over his face. "So, what are you, her sister, or something?" he eyed Mercy, noting the frank similarities between the two girls. His eyes traveled to Allison before returning to the new girl. Mercy's eyes followed the teacher's gaze and got a small smile from Allison.

"Cousins, actually. She just moved here," Allison piped up from beside Scott, in the third row of the classroom. Heads turned to the girl wearing combat boots, then back to Mercy. Some raised their eyebrows, others boredly doodled in their notebooks.

"Fine, whatever. I don't care; as long as you aren't as much a pain in the ass as Greenberg," Coach eyed a boy sitting in the back, who only stared back, as if he was used to the constant snarky comments from the black haired man. "Matter-of-fact, you have detention, Greenberg. For… for… doesn't matter what for, but you'll be scraping gum from under my desks today! You, other Argent girl, sit behind Danny," the Coach pointed at a tan, clean shaven boy with a crooked smile and deep dimples. He half raised his hand, and waved at Mercy. She simply hoisted her bookbag more securely on her shoulder, and walked towards the empty desk, intent on having as much of a "good" first day as she could.

"My god, I thought that class was never going to end," Mercy whispered to Allison, as they exited the Coach's class. He kept screaming at Greenberg, but no one paid him any attention.

"Yeah, sometimes Coach tends to get on these tangents and it's kind of best if you just go with it," Allison shrugs. Mercy nods as they stop by the lockers. How she managed to be only a few lockers down from the huntress, she had no idea, but here she was. Mercy dropped her books on the floor in order to open the lock, before putting them in. She organized them in order of her classes, grabbed the necessary one for her second class, and after closing the door, leaned against the array of lockers, rubbing at her arms, again. Allison noticed.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Uh, yeah, just… They're not very pretty, are they?" she gave a dry, unamused laugh. Allison gave a small smile, showing that she understood that the new girl was slightly self-conscious about the dark marks on her arms. Grabbing a black leather jacket out of her locker, she passed it over to her "cousin". Mercy looked at her for a second before taking it and shrugging it on. "Thanks, Allison. I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it. What's your next class?" Allison pried her notebook from within the confines of her locker, and looked over to Mercy, eyebrows raised.

"Umm," Mercy pulled out her schedule from where she had stuck it in her textbook. "I have English next. You?"

"Same. Actually, mind if I see your schedule?" Mercy passed the sheet over for Allison to inspect. "We have the next two classes together," she smiled at Mercy.

"Wonderful. So, which way is it?" Allison headed towards the English classroom, making mindless small talk with Mercy, which she was glad for. It kept Mercy's mind off the intense emotions ricocheting off the walls of Beacon Hills High School.

Two hours later, found Mercy and Allison exiting their French class, trying to crack the code as to why Mercy was picking up on the language so fast.

"It's weird, Allison. It happened this morning too. I had asked your dad what your new hunters' code was and he said it in French. He didn't even have to translate it, I automatically knew!" Mercy whisper-yelled, as they neared their lockers.

"And then, it happened again in class. You spoke so fluently, I swear if I didn't know any better, I would say you're a French exchange student," Allison commented, bag slung over her shoulder.

"Exactly! And it wasn't conscious. I just… I heard her greet me in French, and I answered. It was so second nature. I didn't have to think about it, I just switched from English to French so easily," Mercy wrung her hands, weirded out by her newfound linguistic giftedness.

"Maybe it has to do with your Empath abilities? It's a long shot, but what else could it be?" The girls paused in front of their lockers.

"Maybe, I don't know. Scott mentioned something about his veterinarian boss during English. Maybe he can help? Give me some answers?" Mercy asked, unlocking her locker and putting her books in. She grabbed her lunch, which the kind, John Stilinski had prepared for her that morning, before she had even gotten out of the shower. It was a simple, peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but to her, it was heaven.

"Maybe… I'm sure he could take a look at you tomorrow; today you're coming to my place for your I.D., don't forget," Allison closed her locker.

"I won't. I'll meet you by your car during our free period. You go ahead and eat your lunch. I'll find you in a little bit, I gotta go to the bathroom," Mercy said as she walked past, heading for the girls' restroom. Allison tossed a "see ya," over her shoulder walking toward the school patio tables, searching for her friends.

A few minutes later, Mercy was emerging from the restroom and heading towards the direction she had seen Allison head towards earlier, when she realized she had left her water bottle in her locker, and Mercy was feeling a little thirsty. She sighed, slightly frustrated, and headed back towards her locker. She opened it, and just as she wrapped her hand around the bottle and pulled her arm free of the metal container, the locker door spontaneously shut closed; loudly. Startled, Mercy jumped, as a small cry escaped her lips.

"Well, well. Aren't you a pretty, little thing?" the cause of the noise spoke up. The towering boy was invading her space, making Mercy feel like she couldn't breathe. He began to box her in with his arms and Mercy took in his appearance. He seemed like your typical juice-head jock, complete with the over-inflated ego. He sported a worn out, football varsity jacket, army buzz cut, foul, cigarette breath, and the sweaty odor of someone fresh out of the boys' locker room.

"Look, I'm trying to get to lunch, so if you don't mind," the girl made to move, but the space between her and the imbecile just seemed to decrease in size.

"See, I do mind. I'm trying to ask you a question, new girl. No need to be rude," he sneered.

"I'm the one having my space invaded and I'm the rude one? How does that work, exactly?" Mercy resorted to pure snark for her defense. There was no way she'd be able to overpower the personification of roid rage, so she used her words to, hopefully, protect what was left of her well-being.

"You know, you got a bit of a mouth on ya. I can think of other things you could do with a mouth like that."

"And I know what you could do with yours; wash it. God, your breath smells like a donkey's ass," Mercy was losing her patience now. That was never a good thing; especially with her powers freaking out the way they had been lately.

"You should be grateful I'm even paying you any attention, you little bitch," he sneered, pressing his hips against Mercy's legs, losing his patience. She squirmed under his weight, trying to escape. Mercy was really beginning to think this dick was related to Brunski. This conversation seemed a little too familiar for comfort. She laughed in his face, making sure he knew she was mocking him.

"Grateful? I should be grateful that you are paying me attention? Really? Why is that?" Mercy kept talking trying to buy herself time.

"Because I heard that you were in the loony bin a few days ago. Be careful, baby. Don't want anyone finding out you're crazy, do you?" he laughed when he saw the girl's eyes widen. Mercy had no idea how he would know about her being in Eichen, but that wasn't really something she wanted getting around school, regardless. "You know, I hear the crazy ones are into chains and shit. Tell me, baby, are you kinky like that? Do you like being tied up?"

No one could hear what was being said, but anyone still in the hall heard the resounding slap that Mercy delivered to the boy's face. It stunned him for a second, but he shook it off long enough to grab the girl by her already bruised arms and slammed her against the lockers. Mercy had barely let out a grunt of pain before the pressure was off of her and she heard the brutish guy being slammed up against those same lockers right alongside her, with his arm twisted at a very painful angle to keep him held there. Scott ran to her as she lost her footing from being pushed against the wall so hard, but she gasped when she took in the fact that Allison was the one who held her perpetrator hostage. Scott gingerly held Mercy up by her elbows, careful to avoid touching her forearms. She watched in amazement as the lean female growled in his ear.

"It's not nice to beat up on people, Duncan. Unfortunately for you, I'm not very nice," she said with a cold smirk, twisting his arm a little more, causing Duncan to cry out in pain. "Especially when idiots, like you, think it's okay to assault my friends. Because it's not. Mess with her again, and everyone will know that a girl beat you up. We all know your tiny ego won't be able to handle such a blow."

Allison slammed his face against the locker once more, for effect, before letting him go. Mercy's eyes were still wide and she looked at Scott once more, taking in the proud twinkle in his eyes. Duncan just grumbled something before walking off, cradling his injured arm, making sure to glare at all of them one final time before walking out of sight. Looking at her new hero, Mercy opened her mouth to say something, but no words could express her thoughts. Allison noticed the silence and looked at Mercy, who promptly shut her mouth, realizing it was still agape. She was just so impressed. Allison simply shrugged, like it was nothing.

"You okay?" she asked the girl. Scott let Mercy go as soon as he was sure she wouldn't fall over.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks… Um, how did you know that was happening?"

"Scott heard you. Well, he heard Duncan," Allison's tone told Mercy exactly what she thought of Duncan. Mercy didn't need to have seen what had just happened, nor did she need to be able to feel the girl's residual anger, only hear the way Allison said his name to know that the huntress thought Duncan was absolute scum.

"Second question; how did you do that?" she knew by Scott's chuckle that she must have looked like an overeager, yet amazed kindergartner. She knew that's how she felt.

"Honestly, I can show you better than I can tell you. Meet me in the parking lot when free period starts," Allison said, before walking back the way she had come. Scott threw a smile Mercy's way and they both followed.

The rest of the day flew by uneventfully. Mercy enjoyed lunch with Lydia, Allison, Scott, Kira, and the twins, Ethan and Aiden. The group shared a few stories with Mercy that she would've thought started around the campfire, quite frankly; things she would never have believed a few days previous. Their first half of junior year had been pretty busy, as well as their sophomore year, Mercy soon came to find out. Mercy could feel that Allison wasn't fond of sharing so much with Mercy, despite practically saving her life earlier, but Scott was so eager to bring her into the fold, Mercy was hit with a kind of emotional whiplash. From Scott, she got excitement and tinges of sorrow, yet from Allison, she was hit with waves of mistrust, skepticism, and annoyance, though Mercy wasn't entirely sure if all of those emotions were directed at her. Still, Allison kept her game face on, smiled when she should've, frowned when the moment called for it. Mercy tried her best to seem trustworthy and she listened with rapt attention, but it was slightly difficult knowing how Allison really felt. Nonetheless, it seemed to her that slowly, but surely, she was winning Allison over. It was clear, there was still a ways to go, but with time things would get better. Time. That seemed like the only thing that Mercy had, time.

Mercy had music with Danny for her fourth period, and the two got along really well. She thought that Danny just might possibly be the nicest human being she had ever met, honestly. The class was slightly more enjoyable thanks to him, and her getting to play music again definitely lifted her spirits even more, especially after the whole Duncan fiasco. Although it had been months since she had last seen or even touched a cello, (she dearly missed hers so much from where she had left it back at her old home), it fortunately turned out Mercy still had a knack for it. Sure, she played a few wrong notes here and there, but it was a new composition she had never played before, and she had been sight-reading it. Danny stood with his trumpet right behind her, whispering jokes every now and then to lift her spirits up. It seemed that he knew just how horrible first days at school were, and she was grateful that he had gone out of his way to make sure she laughed that day; even if it was at just the wrong moment. Mercy was sure the music teacher already hated her guts, despite appreciating her skill.

After music, came physics. Most of her newly made friends were in that class, and they ventured out to the lacrosse field for a hands-on type lecture. Just the basic mentos-in-diet-coke trick; like Mercy had never done it before as a child in her backyard and broke her neighbors' window. The memory brought a smile to Mercy's lips, the bittersweet nostalgia of a simpler time, when breaking your neighbor's window was like first degree murder. Class was over soon enough, Mercy being the only one sensible enough to bring her bag on their adventure downstairs.

"Hey, I'll meet you at my car, just have to run up and get my stuff," Allison said, as she walked past Mercy back towards the building. Mercy nodded and turned towards the parking lot. She figured she still had a bunch of time so she languidly strolled towards the paved block filled with vehicles, some new, some used. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a figure, tall and dark. When she turned towards the sight, she saw a tall, handsome man, wearing rather dark clothes, staring right at her. Mercy couldn't quite explain how she knew he was looking at her of all people, now that the lacrosse field was filling up with sports players and sixth period P.E students, but she could sense his gaze. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and a tingly feeling shot up her spine, causing her to hike her bag higher onto her back and walk faster towards the parking lot. The figure never moved, but still Mercy could sense the person's gaze burning holes into her back. Mercy gave up on all pretenses of calm as panic rose in her throat and she sprinted towards Allison's car. The brunette was still getting her things, but Mercy just needed to get away. She ducked behind the body of the car and peered through the window to where the figure was. Or used to be, because as Mercy searched for her stalker, she noticed how the person had disappeared into thin air. Seriously, whoever it was that had been following Mercy had just poof, gone.

"Hey, are you okay?" Mercy whirled around startled, swinging her bag at the same time to whack her attacker. Only, it wasn't an attacker at all, it was just Scott, she soon came to realize. The tan boy easily stopped the bag from hitting him, simply catching the bag with his hand; he didn't even flinch.

"Ohmigosh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was you. I thought… nevermind, what I thought," Mercy ranted, taking her bag back from Scott and placing it on the ground by her feet. She eyed his arm cautiously, still not used to the thought of him being a werewolf with superhuman strength and all. An average human would've broken their wrist trying to stop her bag, at the very least bruised and sprained it, but Scott… His arm didn't even budge.

"Who did you think I was?" Scott asked, leaning against his motorbike. In Mercy's rush to get behind cover earlier, she didn't even notice that Scott had parked his bike next to Allison's car.

"It's just… I don't know, I felt like someone was following me. Just earlier while I was walking off the field, I saw some… guy, I guess? He wore dark clothes and he was all the way on the other side of the field but, I swear, he was watching me. I got scared, so I ran. It was really weird, and slightly terrifying," Mercy explained, readjusting the jacket she was borrowing from Allison on her shoulders. Recognition flashed in Scott's eyes and he peered around Allison's car to look towards the lacrosse field. He furrowed his eyebrows, in deep thought, and as much as Mercy longed to know what he was thinking, she couldn't get a solid read on him. Just as she opened her mouth to ask if he knew who her stalker was, Allison arrived.

"Ready to go? Sorry, I took so long, I had to make a pit stop at my locker and grab a textbook," she explained, as she pressed the unlock button on her key fob.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ready," Mercy looked at Scott, silently pleading him to keep silent about what she'd said. She didn't want Allison to take it the wrong way or something and suspect her of anything foul. Thankfully, Scott got the message and placed his bike helmet on, flipping the visor over his eyes. "See ya, Daft Punk," Mercy joked as she bid adieu to the teen werewolf. Mercy opened the passenger side door and tossed her bag into the back seat. She waved a final goodbye to her new acquaintances as she drove past their group, and buckled her seat belt securely.

"Listen, since we're technically in free period now, we have another hour before my dad expects me to be leaving school. I have to make a quick stop at the hospital to visit my… friend," Allison explained, taking a left turn. "His name is Isaac, and, well, he's wasn't doing too good the last time I saw him… Hopefully, he'll be awake today," she mumbled.

"It's no problem," the Empath assured the huntress. There was a sadness when Allison spoke of Isaac, maybe a tinge of guilt, even. Mercy had a feeling there was a good probability that guilt was misplaced. It was just a hunch, but it was a strong one.

"So, uh, how did you like your first day? Wow, I sound like such a mom! Sorry," Allison asked, after driving for a good five minutes in absolute silence. Mercy threw a smile the girl's way, appreciative of the effort Allison was making.

"No, it's cool. Um, it was good, I guess? Had its ups and downs, of course, but it could have been worse, you know?" Mercy gave a shrug. "I think knowing a few people helped a lot. Made it easier." Allison nodded, confirming that she understood.

"Yeah, I get how that makes it easier. I was the new girl once, but I didn't know anyone. It's better when you know people."

The two girls lapsed into silence once more, but it wasn't necessarily awkward. It was just… silence. Mercy could do silence. Apparently, Allison couldn't, though. She turned the dial on her stereo, letting the car fill with music as opposed to searching aimlessly for something to say.

"Oh, thank God," Mercy breathed out in relief, before she realized she had spoken aloud. She slapped a hand across her mouth, turning to look at Allison in absolute horror. Opening her mouth to say something, all she could manage was an, "Uh…" before Allison burst into a small fit of giggles. Her sudden laughter shocked both girls enough to cause Mercy to join in. They both were having a great time attempting to contain it, with shakes of the head and tears forming at the corners of their eyes. Luckily, they were at a stop sign by this point, so Allison could take the moment to compose herself. Any passersby would think the two had lost it. It was as though a cap had been unscrewed on a container, releasing everything that had been held in for too long. The two girls had let a lot build up, respectively.

"Thanks. I needed that," Allison said, after she had a second to calm down.

"I think we both did," Mercy nodded, coming down from her high, as well. She was relieved that some of the tension broke between the two. Mercy wanted to get along well with Allison and she knew there was more to what was going on with her than met the eye.

A few minutes later found the girls pulling into the Beacon Hills Memorial parking lot. The tension that had not too long ago left the vehicle was now replaced with an overflow of concern and unease. Allison was now so full of worry that when she pulled into the first space she saw, sliding the gears into park, the girl didn't make a move to get out of the car. Mercy had to take a deep breath, the feelings being so overwhelming. She didn't know how to help her new acquaintance, having not seen the girl in this light before. Allison was strong, Mercy knew that. Mercy also knew that Allison wanted to be seen as such, but she was very conflicted internally. She had no idea who this boy was to Allison, but the huntress was… scared to go in and see him.

"Uh, I can stay in the car, if you want?" Mercy wasn't sure if Allison wanted her to go with her or not, but she needed to break the silence. She needed Allison to go see Isaac because that's what Allison needed to do. Mercy could feel it.

"No! I mean, uh, you can come... I didn't expect you to sit in the car," Allison rushed out. She was facing Mercy, but she seemed to look everywhere else, rather than facing the girl's gaze head on. "I'm just… concerned for him. I- I don't think I can even face him alone. You don't mind coming in with me, do you?" Allison's uneasy eyes, finally, met Mercy's. Mercy smiled kindly in response; she could tell it took a great deal for Allison to admit to her fear, to ask for help even, but she was glad Allison had taken the small leap of faith and trusted Mercy with this piece of information.

"Of course, I don't mind. I mean, I know we don't really know each other that well, but I'll be there if you need someone to lean on," Mercy smiled. Allison only nodded, and took a deep breath readying herself to exit the car. With a final nod, she opened the car door and got out, Mercy following not far behind.

It hit Mercy then, as she was walking through the hospital doors. The familiar smell of chemicals and medicine piercing through her sensory nerves, and she was sent back to Eichen House. Her hands trembled, pupils shrinking in fear. Allison continued forward, towards the front desk. Mercy stood frozen in shock, not snapping out of it until a man pushed past her, an annoyed expression etched across his face. She walked forward then, standing behind Allison, shoving her hands in her jacket pockets to hide the trembling.

After asking a quick question to the nurse manning the front desk, the girls were turning down the labyrinth of hallways heading to Isaac's room. The door was closed when they got there, and through the window the girls could see a light haired boy with his eyes closed, as if sleeping, with vibrant flowers on the nightstand beside him. Allison pushed the door open and entered the room. Mercy followed and was hit by the strong scent of medicine and cleaning chemicals once more. She swallowed back the bile rising in her throat and closed the door behind her.

"He's still not awake," Allison said softly, as if not to wake the boy. She stood at the foot of his bed, flipping through the clipboard tied there, with the boy's medical records. He was good looking, features pale and soft, but with a sharp jaw. Mercy noticed his arms had deep burns, though not as bad as they could be, she supposed. There was also a deep redness on his neck; he was healing, at least. Mercy tried reaching out to the boy with her mind, curious as to who this boy was, but reached a thick fog, similar to that of Scott's and the twins'.

"Is he a werewolf?" Mercy whispered quietly, although it was just the two of them in the room, no other ears to listen in on them. Allison nodded in response, still looking through the clipboard; it didn't escape Mercy how Allison had yet to lay eyes on the boy. Mercy reached out again, but this time instead of stopping when she hit the fog, she ventured further. It was… dark, but warm. She could feel the boy's mental presence around her. It felt like he was actively fighting against something. She drew back, not wanting to interfere with his battle to heal. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that Allison was now standing over the boy, cradling one of his hands in one of hers, her other one gingerly swiping the hair from his forehead. But Allison's eyes were trained on Mercy, a sense of knowing coming from her. "She must've realized what I was doing…"

"Uhhh… I didn't mean to intrude or anything, but… well, curiosity got the best of me..." Mercy paused, feeling guilty for doing what she did yet, at Allison's silence, she kept explaining her actions. "He's still there. I mean, not that I thought he… Not that I thought he wasn't. But he's fighting. I think he was fighting to wake up, or, at least, to heal the burns on his arm," Mercy continued, pointedly looking at the marks on the boy's forearm. She suspected that Allison had secretly wanted Mercy to read the unconscious boy, to inform her of his status.

"Thanks. I… I guess a small part of me really wanted to know. If I'm being honest with myself," Allison responded, going back to stroking Isaac's hair, confirming Mercy's suspicion. The Empath nodded, and sat in one of the two uncomfortably stuffed chairs in the hospital room. The steady beep of the heart monitor, and the light buzz of the other machines the fair-skinned boy was connected to, were the only sounds echoing within the white walls of the room. Mercy fought to keep her heart rate under control, wiping her sweaty hands on her skirt. She took deep breaths, but still adrenaline rushed through her veins, an uncomfortable feeling emanating from deep within her bones. It wasn't for another few minutes, until the near silence was broken by a doctor stepping into the room.

"Oh. I didn't know Isaac was expecting visitors today," he said, clasped pen and clipboard in his left hand.

"Yeah, I just wanted to check up on him, see if he had woken up," Allison replied softly.

"Well, his condition has improved since being admitted to the hospital; we moved him from the ICU yesterday, when we noticed his condition had stabilized, and his burn marks had started improving," the doctor started explaining Isaac's situation to Allison. During this exchange, Mercy decided it would be best to give the two of them their privacy; she felt as if she were intruding, so she quietly slipped away, silently grateful for the chance to escape the rank, medicine-smelling room. She walked quickly to the nearest exit. As soon as the door was open, she gulped in the fresh air, not unlike someone that had been drowning and had managed to break the surface of the water mere seconds before drawing their final, water-filled breaths. Mercy drew lungfuls of air, stumbling across the sidewalk towards a wooden bench, its white paint peeling from years of exposure to the natural elements. She sat down heavily, hands gripping the edge of the bench, as if they were the only means of staying tethered to her body. Mercy shook with relief at being free of the confines of the hospital and its putrid scent. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced the panic rising in her chest to subside. Her breaths were still labored, her ears rang, and she could barely feel the slight pinpricks of splinters of wood piercing her skin. To Mercy, it seemed like several lifetimes had passed before she was able to regain control of her breathing and open her eyes. When her pupils adjusted to the harsh sunlight, she noticed Allison was kneeling in front of her, hand tightly gripping Mercy thighs. Mercy could see her lips moving, but it took a few seconds before the sound registered.

"Mercy? Mercy? My God, Mercy, respond!" Allison frantically shook Mercy legs, which prompted Mercy to, at long last, release her grip on the old creaking wood, and wrap them around Allison's taut arms. Words couldn't form in Mercy's mind as she fell back to reality; her mouth opened and closed wanting to explain how she was 100% okay, and she had just needed a minute, but nothing came out. Allison visibly relaxed when Mercy emerged from her stupor, but she did not move from her position at Mercy's eye level.

"I… I'm fine. Just needed some air," Mercy gasped out, after a few seconds of intense silence.

"You don't seem fine. What happened?" Allison asked, eying the girl warily. Mercy noticed she still had a tight grip on Allison's arms, which the Empath promptly let go of, while Mercy waited for her pulse to stop racing.

"Nothing…" she finally admitted.

"That didn't seem like nothing. It most definitely seemed like something, so why don't you try again?" Allison suggested with a stern face.

Mercy was contemplating whether or not she should express her newfound fear of hospitals. She didn't really want Allison to think less of her, to think Mercy weak, despite Allison having shared a moment of weakness with Mercy only a few minutes before entering that godforsaken place. Allison's fears seemed far more substantial than hers and Mercy didn't want to bother the girl with her own pitiful excuse of a phobia. "Way to be pathetic, Merce. You practically had a panic attack over nothing. Meanwhile, Allison is concerned for her friend and keeping it together, yet here you are losing it over nothing," she berated herself internally.

"Were you overwhelmed by the emotions in there? I mean, you could feel Isaac, but you had to push a bit, right? So, I imagine you totally opened yourself up? Or did you feel everything as soon as you went in? Sorry… I just don't know how it works," Allison reasoned, scrunching her brow. Mercy stared at the girl in front of her, amazed by the deductions that just spewed from her lips. The brunette may not have guessed the full reason for Mercy's needing to step out for air, but her guesses as to what her abilities were like, those were pretty spot on.

"No. It's fine. That was all pretty accurate, actually. I mean, I felt it all as soon as we walked in, but pushing with Isaac did make it… louder. It can definitely be overwhelming," she nodded. Allison shifted from her kneeling position to sit beside Mercy on the bench.

"So, is it always like that?"

"No, not always. Some times are worse than others. Some days, I can kind of block it out. It's more like white noise, I suppose. But, places with mass amounts of people feeling a variety of emotions are usually tough, initially. Overwhelming, if you will," Mercy was looking only at the ground, swinging her feet back and forth, with a grip tight on the bench.

"Places like hospitals."

It wasn't a question, but Mercy nodded anyways.

"Like hospitals. Schools, airports, train stations, et cetera. I think you catch my drift."

"I do. That sounds vaguely terrible, I gotta admit," Allison said, giving the girl a small smile. She couldn't imagine what Mercy must be feeling or how she was even able to distinguish what she felt personally and what everyone else was causing her to feel. Allison had a newfound sense of admiration for the Empath.

"It can be a real pain in the ass, to be quite honest," Mercy looked down at her hands, picking at her nails.

"Sorry. I doubt I can be of much help, considering. But I'm pretty much done here. We can go back to my place, get you your I.D.," Allison said, stepping away from the girl on the bench.

"Great. I really need to get away from here," Mercy stood from her place on the worn down seat, the white noise filling her head once again. The pair of girls headed back to the car, silent, but glad to get away. The entire car ride to the Argent penthouse was filled with low volume music from the radio, some new pop songs, some old overplayed ones, but Mercy wasn't complaining. It had been so long since she had listened to current music, she was glad to hear any at all.

"Well, here we are. Welcome to my humble abode. Don't touch anything, it might be booby trapped," Allison opened the door to her apartment, sporting a grin in Mercy's direction. Mercy knew that Allison was joking about the booby traps, but she wouldn't be entirely surprised if she learned that it wasn't just a joke.

"You've got a nice place," Mercy commented upon entering the foyer. Her comment came out rather blasé, but in reality, Mercy was incredibly impressed. She could tell the Argents weren't rich, but pretty damn well-off.

"Thanks," Allison tossed her bag onto the living room couch and headed toward the kitchen. "Want anything to drink? I've got Coke," her voice emanated from just inside the fridge.

"Water is fine, thanks. I've lost a taste for sugary, carbonated poisons," Mercy replied sarcastically, but with good humor. Allison only chuckled and poured a tall glass of iced water for her guest. She handed the Empath her water, and started walking towards the back of the spacious apartment.

"Dad? You here?" Allison called out.

"In my office. Is Mercy with you?" a slightly muffled voice wafted through the corridor. Allison led Mercy to the last door on the right, and opened the door to reveal Chris hunched over a camera facing the wall with a blue blanket taped across it, mimicking the background at the DMV. He looked up when the two girls walked in, shooting Mercy a warm smile, and pressing a light kiss to Allison's forehead. "I'll take that as a yes. Nice to see you, again, Mercy."

Mercy threw a small grin his way, after taking a swallow of the cool liquid. "You too, Mr. Ar- Chris. Sorry, still not used to that."

"You're going to have to get used to it. You can't very well go around calling your uncle "Mr. Argent", you know?" Chris reminded her gently, giving her another smile. He realized this was a lot to handle for the girl, especially considering her last two days. "So, how was school?" he asked, changing the subject.

"It really wasn't as bad as I had expected it to be," Mercy admitted. "Allison definitely helped the time go by faster. The others, as well," Mercy continued. "Though, there was this one part..." Mercy started, intending to tell Chris about that smelly, prick of a juice-head jock that tried to intimidate her at lunch, but from just behind the older Argent, she could see Allison shaking her head no, and Mercy could feel the urgency in the action, despite its subtlety. Immediately, Mercy dug through her mind, for something else adequate enough to say.

"What?" Chris looked at Mercy, concern hidden just behind his eyes.

"Well, when I was in French... I don't know, it's weird, like this morning with you. It was like my brain automatically understood it. Both languages just seemed the same to me. I couldn't really tell the difference; I responded in French when I was spoken to in French, and I switched to English just as easily. I can't explain it. It just kind of… happened," Mercy explained the weird sequence of events that occurred in her French class earlier that afternoon.

"I see..." Chris mumbled in response. He was looking at Mercy, but not exactly, he was so deep in thought. A few seconds of awkward silence ensued until he finally shook himself out of his thoughts. "Well, I'll go over the Beastiary, see if I can find anything on Empaths. You might want to ask Deaton about it tomorrow, though. He knows more about the supernatural world than he likes to let on. But, right now, let's just get this I.D. out of the way. Then, would you like to stay for dinner?" Chris bustled about the room, finishing setting up the lights and hooking up his computer to the camera. Mercy nodded, and maneuvered her way towards her seat.

The pictured came out nice; the make-up magic Lydia had performed that morning lasted all day, and saved Mercy from an embarrassing photoshoot. Once the authentic looking I.D. was printed and all of Mercy's paperwork was finally in order, the trio filed out of Chris' office, towards the living room. "I'm sure you guys have a bunch of time to kill before dinner. Why don't you take Mercy out for a ride, Allison? I'm sure she's had only a limited view of this town, since she was released," Chris suggested to the girls. It wasn't a bad idea if Mercy was being honest with herself. She turned to Allison who lifted a shoulder in consent.

"Yeah, I wanted to show her something, anyways," Allison agreed and grabbed her keys off the coffee table. "See you in a bit," she tossed over shoulder as they exited the foyer. Chris just murmured an agreement, already distracted once again. Mercy could only assume it had something to do with her.

"I'll see you at dinner, Chris. And thanks for the I.D.," Mercy said just before the door closed behind her. They made their way to the car and hopped in, when Mercy had an idea. "Hey, mind if we run a quick errand? I'll explain on the way," she turned to Allison as she clicked her seatbelt in place.

"Sure, where to?" Allison put the gears into reverse and pulled out of the driveway, heading towards the main street.

"The nearest cell phone company. I checked my bank account this morning, and it seems like Phillip decided to transfer my college funds early," Mercy joked, still uncomfortable with the amount of money she received that day. "Let's just say I've got enough to buy myself a place and live comfortably for, at least, 5 years, no problem."

Allison only nodded and turned right heading towards the local Verizon store. Mercy was glad she didn't ask any questions. She's not entirely sure how that conversation would have turned out. They made small talk on the way to the store, and when they pulled in Mercy politely asked for Allison to wait for her there. Her new friend was cool with that, and it only took 20 minutes for Mercy to walk out with the iPhone 4s, 32 gigs, and 4G LTE data, with a monthly allowance of, like, 20 gigs. She was happy with the purchase, and decided to restore all her contacts from her iCloud account while they drove away. She ended up deleting almost all of her old contacts, knowing that if she contacted 99% of her old friends she would have a lot of drama to deal with. She got a couple numbers from Allison, and just relaxed on the ride towards… towards… "Hey, Allison, where are we going, anyways?" Mercy asked realizing she had no idea what the youngest Argent was up to.

"Remember when you asked me how I did what I did earlier? With Duncan? Well, I was gonna show you," Allison said, as she suddenly turned off road.

"Uh, okay? Should I be frightened, right now, or?" Allison's smirk in response wasn't exactly a comfort for the Empath. "Allison?"

"Just trust me, okay?"

"Do you trust me?" Mercy blurted. She wanted to know if Allison would reveal the truth to her. Despite only having spent a few hours with the girl, Mercy felt they had broken down some serious barriers, but she had no way of knowing if that feeling was mutual without prying.

"Don't you know the answer to that?" Allison asked after a minute of side-eying the girl in her passenger seat.

"I don't pry without permission. But, how about we pretend that I don't know? Pretend that I have no clue how you're feeling," Mercy shrugged.

"Okay, honestly? I don't know if I trust you or not. I trust you more than I did yesterday. I even trust you more than I did this morning, but I don't know how far that trust goes, just yet. But I do like you, despite all that and, perhaps, against my better judgement," Allison let out a breath, finally stopping the car near a wall of trees. Mercy appreciated the huntress' honesty and nodded before responding.

"Fair enough. So, what exactly is it that we're gonna do here?"

"I figured I would show you the basics, AKA self-defense," was her only response. Mercy nodded in once more and climbed out of the car. Allison maneuvered herself to the back of the car, whilst Mercy watched on in interest.

"So, we're in the woods, why?" she asked, watching as Allison pulled a bow and quiver of arrows out of the trunk of her car. She quirked an eyebrow, but didn't comment on the weaponry.

"I just like training out here. It's easier to focus," Allison told her, shutting the trunk. "Come on, you'll see," she threw over her shoulder, heading for the wall of trees. Not really one for the outdoors, Mercy made sure to keep up with Allison.

"So, do you train often?" Mercy asked to fill the silence. She stepped over a rather large tree root that snaked its way across the forest floor.

"Yeah. Once a week, at the very least. I tried training Lydia here once, but it didn't go so well." She stopped a few yards from a tree that seemed to have many small piercings in its bark. Cracking her neck, Allison nocked a bow and aimed at the tree. If Mercy hadn't been watching her so intensely, she wouldn't have noticed the breath Allison released as she let the arrow fly. It was as though the bow was merely an extension of her body and Mercy was enthralled watching the simplicity of the action. Oddly enough, learning to use a bow and arrow had always been something Mercy had wanted to do.

Mercy realized she had been staring perhaps a few seconds too long and she shook her head to clear it. "That… That was awesome," Mercy breathed out.

"Thanks. But we should get to work," she handed the bow to the Empath, who nervously grabbed hold of it.

"Here, you nock the arrow like this. Putting this part here, and pulling back until it's right by your chin, this is called your anchor," Allison helped Mercy to pull back the string. She could feel her arm muscles tensing, and struggle to hold the string so far back, for so long. "Take a deep breath. Elbow higher. Now breath and when you exhale, let go of the string," Mercy nodded slightly and prepared for release. She breathed and let go of the string, as instructed. The arrow seemed to fly in slow motion, the metal sliding right past the arch of the bow. The arrow sailed through the air and embedded itself in the tree. Not exactly where she was aiming, but not too far nonetheless. "That's... actually pretty good. Have you done this before?" Allison said, impressed with Mercy's marksmanship.

"No, I haven't. This is my first time," she replied, lowering the bow, a little shocked herself. She had no clue how she managed to hit the tree on her first go.

"We should definitely practice that more, later, though. I think you have some serious potential when it comes to archery. Have you done any self-defense or hand-to-hand training before?" Allison asked, taking back the bow that Mercy held out to her and leaning it against the nearest tree.

"That would most definitely be a negative. Phillip and Holly were of the belief that violence was never the answer," Mercy snorted derisively.

"Well, I'm definitely of the opinion that a basic knowledge of self-defense never hurt anyone. It would have come in handy with that bastard earlier, that's for sure," Allison remarked, turning to face her "student". Mercy was in full agreement with that. Hell, she could have used the basics in Eichen, too. Just another thing Phillip and Holly seemed to have screwed her on, it would seem. "Okay, so first…"

A cold chill traveled up Mercy's spine, and her Empath senses started "tingling". She looked around seeing no one, but Allison. She struck her hand out, motioning for Allison to stop what she was doing. "I think, someone is here..." Mercy whispered softly. Allison visibly tensed, grabbed her bow, and nocked an arrow so fast the movement barely registered with Mercy. Mercy tried to pinpoint where the signature was coming from. It was hard to tell, the person obviously was not human, nor was the person someone that she knew, else she'd be able to tell. Mercy pointed past the tree, knowing the person was generally in that direction. Allison nodded and started towards there. She aimed in the direction that Mercy pointed out and waited. She hadn't told Scott or any of the others where they were going to be, so she was quite ready to shoot and ask questions later. It could be anyone, or anything, and she wasn't going down without a fight. The intruder, apparently no longer caring about a silent entrance, stepped on a stick causing the crack to ring out in the silence. Allison decided to fire a warning shot, in case it was someone they knew. Releasing the string, the arrow soared hitting a tree right beside the head of the person.

Derek, finally showing his face, merely smirked. "Well, hello to you, too."

"You should have said something! I thought you were…" Allison was going to say Stiles' name, but she decided against it. She had just realized that was who she was waiting to step out. It was hard to think of Stiles as the enemy, but her mind had already made that distinction, evidently. She lowered her bow and waited for Derek to explain himself, but naturally, he did no such thing. "What are you doing here, Derek?"

"Um, this is my land, last time I checked. The real question is, what are you doing here?" he asked, eying the other girl. Mercy didn't like his stare and it occurred to her why he seemed familiar.

"Were you the guy that was stalking me at school today?" she asked, suddenly angry.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about. Stalking seems like a stretch, though," Derek smirked, picking at his nails.

"But you were watching me," Mercy asked again, shifting her weight.

"So, you're an Empath, huh? I've only ever heard of your kind once before," the cocky son-of-a-bitch evaded Mercy's question, tilting his head to the side in question.

"You still didn't answer my question," the now enraged Empath, crossed her arms.

"You're unable to read me, aren't you?" the werewolf smirked.

"So what? Doesn't mean I can't hurt you," Mercy stood fast, tired of letting herself be overpowered by other people.

"You? Hurt me? I find that hard to believe, little Empath," Derek took a step forward, squaring his shoulders.

"Derek-" Allison tried to interject.

"Well, believe it, you overgrown furball!" Mercy yelled, her hand shooting forward, curling into a fist. Derek fell to his knees almost immediately, clutching at his head, groaning in pain.

"Mercy! MERCY! STOP!" Allison ran over to Derek, dropping to her knees beside him. He may not always have been one of the "good guys" and the two may not have always gotten along, especially when it came to Peter and Kate, but Allison recognized Derek as a part of Scott's pack; her pack. She didn't want to see him hurt.

"He shouldn't have provoked me. I'm still learning, dammit!" Mercy lowered her hand, appalled that she had let her anger get the best of her. She didn't walk any closer to the pair, nor was she apologetic, but she was still worried she had hurt the werewolf. "And here I was making such good progress on the trust front. Nice going, Mercy," she internally chided herself. Derek released his head, the searing pain gone, replaced by a dull throb. He attempted to get back on his two feet, but faltered, ending up on one knee, as if proposing. He raised his gaze towards Mercy, who stood with her arms crossed, biting her lip worriedly, with a hint of awe in his eyes. In all his years of confronting all sorts of pain, and supernatural creatures, never before had he experienced what the unassuming girl had done to him. Allison hooked her arms under his right armpit, heaving upward, to help him get back up again. Her eyes were also wide with shock and reluctant awe. The huntress could count on a single hand the amount of times she had seen Derek fall that easily. It was unnerving to see that happen again, and with a girl just months younger than her, petite in comparison to the huge werewolf.

"What did you do to him?" she asked grunting with the effort of keeping the large man standing.

"I just…. I made him relive the worst pain he had ever felt, multiplied tenfold," the Empath answered. "So, that he learns his lesson and doesn't mess with me again," she pointedly looked at the older man, who was now able to stand on his own two feet, although he looked a little green. "Still find it hard to believe that a "little Empath" can hurt the big bad wolf?" she sassed.

"Point taken," he grunted, unable to help but feel impressed, though he would take that admittance to the grave.

Mercy nodded once. "Does no one trust me? We're on the same side here," she mumbled under her breath, forgetting the two that accompanied her, had sonic sharp hearing.

"I don't think you have to worry about Scott trusting you. Sounds to me like Derek made that decision," Allison commented. Derek just shrugged, not wanting to voice that truth aloud. Mercy's phone dinged in her pocket. Surprised that she was getting text messages so soon, she unlocked it to see who it was.

Text message from: John Stilinski

Hey, glad you got a phone. I'll be coming home late. It's been a pretty busy day at the office and I still have a bunch of paperwork to do. There should be some leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry. Don't wait up for me.

"Seems like the Sheriff has a long night ahead of him," Mercy said aloud.

"Well, you were already planning on joining us for dinner so that works out," Allison added.

"So, where were we?" Mercy pocketed her phone.

Allison turned to Derek questioningly. "Are you planning on sticking around?" He responded with a raise of his brow as if to say exactly how stupid that question was. She rolled her eyes. "Okay, whatever. So, the basic defense moves," Allison continued.

"Well, Allison. Just a word to the wise, she's wearing a skirt," Derek pointed out, resuming his original position by the tree.

"As much as I hate to say this, he's got a point," Mercy looked down at her outfit, picking at the hem of the plaid skirt. "I mean, I've got boyshorts on underneath, but that only goes so far…"

"You're about as helpful, as ever, Derek," Allison snarked, giving the wolf an eyeroll of her own. Derek gave another of his pointed shrugs, as though he could really care less what the huntress had to say about him. "Don't worry about it, Mercy. I'm just going to show you techniques that every girl should know. It won't require you to pick your feet up very high. Besides, if you're being attacked, chances are you won't have much time to think about what you're wearing. It's more of a punch first, ask questions later kind of deal." Mercy nodded in response, stretching her arms, ready to learn.

By the time they had finished for the evening, the sun was just beginning to touch the horizon an array of pinks and oranges stretching across the cloud-less sky. Mercy was slightly sweaty and her arms were a bit sore. Derek didn't stay still for long, Allison having used him as a dummy of sorts. Her hits didn't have as much effect on him as they might have on any other regular person, but even then Mercy could tell there was serious power paced behind each punch, each kick. Sometimes Derek parried, showing Mercy the proper way to defend his face and torso, claiming those were the areas one should protect at all times. As it turned out, Mercy did pretty well for a rookie. She even managed to land a good punch on Derek's jaw, until she realized she had tucked her thumb. She yelped in pain clutching at her hand, biting her lip to quiet her moans.

"Never tuck your thumb under your knuckles!" Derek had leapt forward, recovering quickly from the blow Mercy had landed. Mercy easily dodged his hands, quickly turning 180°, pivoting her shoulder so he didn't touch her. It wasn't that she was afraid necessarily; it had already been established that she could overpower him with some effort and he was a part of Scott's pack sent only to observe and protect. It was just that she didn't really know the man like that, not just yet. Derek smoothly retrieved his hands, playing it off cool. Allison eyed them, but said nothing. Still, he tried to get a good look at Mercy's hand, but she still clutched it close to her stomach while bouncing on her feet trying to distract herself from the pain. Eventually it subsided and she was able to let go, not moving her throbbing digit for fear of hurting it even more. "Is your thumb alright?" he voiced, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," Mercy said dropping her hand.

"I think that's enough for today. Hopefully, you learned your lesson; don't tuck," Allison eyed Mercy sternly, heading towards where they had left the car.

"Trust me, I learned my lesson. Jeez Derek, you've got a hard head," she told the werewolf trailing behind them.

"You have no idea how true that statement is," Allison snickered. Derek growled from behind them, no serious threat behind it. Mercy smirked, laughing softly. The girls reached the car, Allison popped the trunk to return the bow and arrows.

"Thanks for the help, Derek," Mercy turned to the older man. "Thanks, also, for not continuing to be an ass."

Derek smirked in response, tilting his head down. "Yeah, yeah. I'd say anytime, but you got a lot of personality to deal with." Mercy tried to hide her small smirk. She didn't succeed.

"Turns out, you serve as an exceptional dummy," Allison snarked from the driver's door. "Your skills may be of use to us. If you're up for it?" she posed the comment as a question. More of a dare than anything.

"I'll let you know tomorrow," came the vague reply from the handsome werewolf. Allison nodded, entering the car tossing a "Text me," over the top of the black Toyota. Mercy stepped in as well, clicking the seatbelt in. She watched Derek's body recede from her side view mirror, pondering about the tall man. Although he started out as an ass, and would probably continue to sass her, Mercy found it rather enjoyable to tolerate him. The ride back to the penthouse took some time, what with the evening rush hour in effect. The girls made small talk along the way just to pass the time. eventually the arrived in the parking lot, both starving and ready for dinner.

Allison and Mercy stepped out of the car, walking towards the building entrance, car beeping as Allison locked the doors behind them. Mercy noted, once again, that the penthouse was at the very top of the apartment building, indicating the name Argent carried with it more old money than she had originally thought. The Argents may not have been extremely rich, but perhaps a little more than exceptionally well-off. They stepped through the doorway, into the foyer Allison calling to her father, letting him know his daughter and "niece" had arrived. Mercy chuckled at the thought of being recognized as Chris' "niece" in their own home, when all of them knew so clearly that wasn't the case. But it added a nice touch of humor to the situation, a lightened feeling that Mercy craved so direly.

"I'm in the kitchen. Finishing up with tonight's dinner: grilled chicken and penne pasta with an assortment of herbs," the chef for the night hollered, his voice coming from just to the right from the living room. The two girls followed his voice, or perhaps it was the decadent scent wafting through the air that guided them to the kitchen, but either way, when they saw the hunter, they couldn't help, but burst into laughter. He was wearing the most ridiculous outfit Mercy had ever seen: the dark clothes and boots, which apparently was a hunter's' signature look, covered in a white, though mostly stained apron, with the words "Mr. Good Lookin' Is Cookin" written in big red letters across his chest.

"I can't believe you still have that old thing!" Allison commented between laughs.

"Of course I do! What kind of a father would I be, if I didn't keep my daughter's Father's Day present?" he smirked, wiping his dirty hands on the already dirty apron.

"From when I was ten!" the girl screeched, still bent over laughing.

"That is hysterical, I can hardly breathe!" Mercy laughed, clutching at her stomach and wiping pretend tears from her eyes. "That's great."

"Well, as funny as it may be, I think it's time I take it off and toss it into the hamper, cause dinner's ready, and I'm hungry," Chris smiled as he lifted the tie from around his neck, and pulled on the ribbons securing the apron around his back.

"Ditto," Mercy spun on her heel and headed towards the dining room table, which was already set with silverware.

"What do you girls want to drink?"

"Water," both Argents, native and new, answered simultaneously. Chris entered the relatively small dining room with the platter of food balanced on one hand and pitcher of water in the other.

"So, Mercy…" Chris attempted to start an easy conversation. "Now that you're my niece and all, I was thinking maybe it would be a good idea for us to get to know you a little better. What are your interests? Your hobbies and what have you?" he asked her with a smile.

"Well, I play the cello. Have been since I started middle school. I even competed in a state-wide competition in ninth grade. I came in second, which wasn't too bad given I had only been playing a couple years," Mercy revealed, remembering the joy and pride she felt when she received the trophy. "I used to dance, as well. A long, long, long, time ago."

"Oh, why'd you stop?" Allison asked.

"Well I was in the middle of the performance. Act two of Swan Lake, and somehow I had managed to land the lead role. We were doing a routine where all my little swan friends were circling around me and such. The costumes were so beautiful, but the stitching really needed some work, especially for my little swans. There were pearls lining the collar of their leos, and one of them popped off. It just so happened that I was landing from a pretty high jump right at that moment so my foot slipped out from right under me. Immediately I tried to balance myself, but I shattered my ankle doing so. To this day my ankle acts up sometimes. I tried to pick up dancing again after therapy, but even after months it just kept flaring up. I had no choice but to drop it. I miss it sometimes, but what can be done?"

"That's terrible, Mercy! I'm sorry that happened to you," Allison's eyes showcased her sympathy for the girl.

"It happened a long time ago. I've come to terms with it, for the most part, anyways. After the whole incident, I became interested in photography and I would frequent my old studio, take pictures of the students there. I developed all of the good ones and sent it to them. They hang it up on the wall of Madame Boudreaux's office, the ballet mistress there."

"Well, I'm glad you found another love for something," Chris told his "niece". "After she quit gymnastics, Allison picked up archery, which, in all honesty, is far more useful now that she's aware of the family business."

"Yes, and he was very subtle when it came to helping me decide what I should pick up after I was over gymnastics," Allison joked. Chris smirked, taking a swig of his beer.

"I can imagine. Chris, the pasta is really good," Mercy complimented her "uncle's" cooking.

"Thank you. Mercy, if you don't mind my asking, why was it that you were in Eichen House?" Chris felt more than saw the quick look that his daughter cast his way at his abrupt subject change.

"Oh, um," Mercy took a sip from her glass of water, realizing that this conversation may not end up being nearly as easy as it had started. While, she knew it was for the best if she was completely open with them, this topic of conversation was leaving her a bit hesitant. "It's kind of a long story..."

"We have time. You said the Sheriff was staying at the station for a while, didn't you?" Allison asked while finishing her food, deciding to follow her father's lead.

"Yeah. Yeah... Okay, um... Well to give you some background, I started displaying my abilities the year before I was admitted. It started at a friend's party. She got sick, because, I guess, I was affecting her too strongly. That was the first time I really noticed my power. Anyways, from then on, she kind of had this iron grip over me. Manipulating me. Dictating my every move. I was so scared that someone from the FBI or CIA or even just an obscure clan of mad scientists would capture me and experiment on me or something, which I realize may sound a little crazy and paranoid, but you know werewolves are real, so... Anyways, I stuck with her out of fear, but then one day I just got so tired of it. So, I, uh... I unleashed an unholy wrath on her. Last I heard, she was stuck in the mental ward of a hospital, not really recuperating. The police convinced Holly and Phillip to admit me to Eichen, and they had no idea what else to do with me, they couldn't really explain what I had done. Despite people having seen it, no one could explain what I had done. So, yeah, they stuck me in there..." Mercy explained herself, twirling her hair between her fingers nervously. When she noted that Chris was watching her movement, she stilled her hand before she took another gulp of water, sweaty palms relishing in the coolness of the glass.

"Do you regret it?" Chris asked softly, not eating his food anymore. His eyes were still scanning every inch of her face, analyzing her every tick. Mercy wanted to think there was a softness to the hunter's searching gaze, but she knew she must be imagining things. This was an interrogation. An interrogation that she had to pass. The Empath knew that it wouldn't do to lie here, so she went the honesty route. Mercy may be the one who could actually read the emotions in the room, but she knew the man across from her would be able to read a liar in a heartbeat, supernatural powers be damned.

"I can't, honestly, say that I do. She got what she deserved, and then some. No, I didn't want her to end up in a mental ward, and no, I didn't mean to hurt her quite that much, but do I regret it? No. There are things I regret, though. I regret being in that situation to begin with. I… I hated being under her control. I was living a life tainted by fear. Everytime the doorbell rang, I expected men in black suits to take me away. Every time I used my abilities on another person, like she forced me to, I was terrified that someone would notice and say something, ostracize me, report me. I regret taking part in her sick games and knowing such a manipulative person, but I don't regret doing what I did because what I did? That meant that I would finally be able to live my own life again. That I wouldn't let her or anyone else force me to do something I didn't want to do. I hated being a puppet for her. I felt sick inside. Absolutely disgusting. I needed out of that life, and now I am. That pit stop in Eichen wasn't really what I had in mind when I thought "freedom" but at least she wasn't there. At least no one there knew what I was, what I did." Mercy explained herself, her hesitation and nerves melting away, passionate about her new resolve. She felt sure of herself now; she felt confident that no one would ever attempt to tug on her strings again. She didn't feel proud of putting someone in the hospital, but she did not regret it, nor did she feel particularly guilty. Some would say she lacked a heart, but others would say she was right in not feeling anything toward that ruthless bitch.

A few minutes of silence passed before Chris nodded in acceptance and everyone returned to their meals. The rest of the night went by as normal as one could possibly imagine it would after such a serious topic. Mercy appreciated the attempt at normalcy and knew it was, to some extent, for her. She couldn't really imagine the Argents being the type of people to have the typical "How was your day?" conversations, but they were giving it a try for their new relative and she couldn't have been more grateful. It occurred to her in that moment that she had really missed experiencing normal family moments such as this.

Allison's car pulled up to the driveway, gravel crunching underfoot, headlights gleaming in the windows of the Stilinski abode.

"Thanks for dinner, and for… ya know, in the woods. The 'teaching me to defend myself' thing. It means a lot, so thank you for that… really," Mercy awkwardly expressed her gratitude. She had always been horrible at expressing gratitude, typically using platitudes, though she meant it all with sincerity.

"It's no problem. I could use some touching up on my skills anyways, and this gives me the opportunity," Allison said, changing the car's gear into reverse while Mercy gathered her things to head out. "Anyways, have a good night. You need a ride to school tomorrow?" she inquired.

"Yeah, I do, actually. Pick me up at 8, like this morning?" The huntress nodded in response. "Thanks. Good night," Mercy shut the car door behind her. She watched from the porch as Allison backed out, and drove away, her arm waving from outside her car window. Mercy knelt in front of the door, and under the welcome mat found the spare house key. John didn't tell her it was there per say, but she was half expecting it to be so, she followed her gut. "Typical…" she smiled, sliding the key into the lock, and easily unbolting the door. She dropped her bags at the front door, placing the key back where it belonged.

"Okay, it's only 9:30," she glanced at the clock hanging on the wall opposite her, "I can probably finish up my homework by 10:30," she said aloud, words falling on no one's ears but her own. She traipsed up the stairs to Stiles' room, bag in hand. First day of school, and she was already expected to write an essay. Mercy tossed her bag by her feet as she sat in the surprisingly comfortable swivel chair, the already unlocked PC whirring in the silent room. It didn't take long to locate the Microsoft Word logo on the teen's desktop screen, nor did it take Mercy a horribly long time to complete the essay. It was a rather short one, an analysis on some poetry she was assigned to read during class. She clicked print when she finished double-checking to make sure her fake name was written across the top. It would take some getting used to, typing Argent instead of Jacobs, but it was a change she welcomed wholeheartedly. She glanced at the clock on Stiles' nightstand, reading an outstanding 10:00. "Really? So quick?" she sighed, exasperated. Surprisingly enough, Mercy wasn't even tired. Yet. She stood up from her seat stretching her arms above her head, hearing a few satisfying pops from her spine. She took her paper from the printer's tray, sliding it into her bookbag. "What now?" she looked around the room, bored. A stack of seemingly ancient books piled on Stiles' desk caught her eye. The yellowed pages, contrasted their leather spines; evidently, the books were extremely old and probably somewhat valuable. It was rare to see any leather-bound anything nowadays. She picked up the book on top, and nearly squealed with excitement. Nearly. "I'm such a nerd…" she thought, releasing an outward sigh.

When Allison got back home, she immediately went to Chris' office, finding him standing near a bookshelf, with a book in hand. He didn't even look up when she entered, continuing to peruse the work.

"Found anything on Empaths, yet?" Allison asked, taking a seat in the swivel chair behind his desk, propping her feet up on the corner.

"Not yet, but I don't know the full extent of her powers, either. Just glimpses of what she's told us. Sounds pretty extensive, though."

"I agree. That language thing is really weird. What would that have to do with emotions?" Allison grabbed a pen off of her father's desk and began twirling it between her fingers.

"From what I know, there are different types of Empaths. All one species, just… breeds, I guess. Some breeds can do certain things, others not. The reigning breed, in terms of the amount of abilities they have, is the Maximus. They are the rarest, the fewest in numbers. They show most, if not all of the abilities of an Empath."

"You knew all of this and didn't tell her. Why?"

"Because that's as far as my knowledge on the subject goes. I knew a hunter that came across an Empath. I've only heard stories. I never met her."

"Right. And you were trying to suss her out. Mercy, I mean," Allison wasn't asking a question. She knew her father was doing the same thing that she had been doing all day.

"Amongst other things, yes."

"Which explains dinner."

Chris gave his daughter a knowing look, but didn't choose to comment. Allison waited a second before leaping forward with her next question. "So, what's your conclusion? Did she pass?"

"I think I'm more interested in what you think," Chris remarked, finally looking up from his book with an arched eyebrow.

"I… I don't think…" Allison kept having to reconfigure what she had to say. She had mixed feelings when it came to the new girl. "I don't think she's dangerous. At the very least, not to us. I think she's just as confused as us. I think she's afraid, but she doesn't want to show it. That she's putting up a front, a mask, and she doesn't want us to see what might be behind it."

"But do you think she's unstable?"

"I've seen her have moments, but from what she told me of her power, she has a lot of control. A lesser person would lose their mind if they felt that much. I know I wouldn't be able to hold on for so long."

"So, you don't think she's a threat?"

"No," Allison replied with finality. "Not to us."

"Okay." Chris nodded, bookmarking his place in the book, closing it, and returning it to its place on the bookshelf.

Mercy kicked off the boots she wore, wiggling her toes as she tossed herself on the bed. The title of the book A Complete History of Magick, Sorcery, and Witchcraft, gleamed up at her, neatly written in gold. Actual melted gold, mind you. She was almost afraid to lift the cover, lest she molest the perfectly bound book and disturb it's peaceful slumber. Almost. Her hunger for some actual answers was far too great for her to pass up on this opportunity. She paused before settling in to read it, thinking it would be best if she changed into her PJ's first. She walked back to her new room, stripping as she walked, thankful for the privacy. She changed into her pajamas, a simple black tank and one of Stiles old plaid boxers that were too small for him. Bless the sheriff for being mindful of her lack of wardrobe. She brushed her teeth, cleansed her face, and put on a clay face mask she found in the little make-up bag Lydia had gifted her that morning. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, piled haphazardly on the apex of her head, a stretchy grey headband keeping the fly aways off the thick cream coating her skin. It was a good fifteen anxious minutes before Mercy returned to Stiles' room, feeling refreshed, yet slightly drowsy, nervous about what she was going to learn from the ancient tome. She sat up against the headboard of the bed, the fluffy blue pillows cushioning her back, sock-clad feet crossed at the ankles stretched before her. The book lay closed on her lap, her fingers playing with the corner of the cover, lifting it slightly, then letting it fall back down with a gentle thud. Taking a quick breath, she opened the book letting her eyes glide over the neatly printed words. She searched for the table of contents and found that she didn't understand most of what was written there. She searched for "Empath", but returned empty-handed. However, Mercy wasn't one to give up so easily. At least, not anymore. She flipped to the first chapter, opting to read the preface at a later time.

The book started off pretty simple, and maybe even a little boring. Despite Mercy's excitement, within fifteen minutes of laboring to read the same two pages the exhausted Empath passed out. The book lay open on her lap, hands resting gingerly on the yellowed, yet well preserved, pages. Her head tilted slightly to the left, headband still securing her hair, soft snores coming from her parted lips. It really wasn't too long until Mercy slipped into the deepest part of her slumber, and arguably the most disturbing.

It all started out just fine, her dream not unlike the ones she would have before Eichen, except that it seemed to be in HD this time around; 1080 pixel type HD, y'know? Mercy walked through her dream-world, enjoying the quiet. The white noise she was constantly tortured with was gone, and she was perfectly content with walking around an empty Stilinski house while she remained lucid within the dream. It wasn't the first time she'd experienced lucid dreaming, but it was the first time she experienced such high-quality dreaming. She could feel the hard wood floors beneath her bare feet, hear the creaking within the, otherwise silent, house. Then, the house wasn't so silent. She could hear footsteps coming from just ahead of her. She walked forwards, curious to see who it was. She turned the corner and saw a flash of plaid disappear across the way. She continued forward, chasing the person through the house. She always seemed too far behind, only catching glimpses of skin and a black and red plaid shirt each time she turned a corner. Eventually, she realized the person was climbing the stairs. She ran up laughing and giggling the whole time. She climbed up two steps at a time, arriving on the second floor just in time to see a brown shoe disappear into Stiles' bedroom. She followed him in, running into the room at full speed. Then, it was like she walked through a portal where she was transported to a white room. Completely stark white; white walls, white floor, white ceiling. She spun around, slightly taken aback from the drastic change in scenery, but still looking for the boy in plaid. In the distance, she could just barely make out a tree stump, two people sitting on top of it. It took half a second before Mercy's breath caught in her throat, realizing who the boy in plaid was; Stiles. She tried to call out for him, but her voice didn't seem to work quite right. Somewhere deep down, Mercy knew this wasn't the same dream. It felt vastly different. She watched as Stiles and the other odd figure were hunched over something like a chess board, making the occasional move. Opening her mouth once more, Mercy tried to say his name. Still nothing. She decided to move forward, but every time she made a step, it seemed the distance between her and the boy in plaid grew greater. The Empath began to get increasingly frustrated as she continued to try and gain his attention. Mercy had this vast need to talk to him, ask him what was happening, but to no avail. It felt like centuries had passed and yet, it felt like mere seconds. Time seemed to stand still in this white room with her moving forward and Stiles paying her no attention, but continuing on with his game. She decided to stop. Mercy knew she was getting nowhere.

In that moment, the second figure looked up and gave her a sickening grin, though his face was covered in bandages. Mercy felt her stomach turn. She felt this intense fear take over and tried once more.

"STILES!"

This time, the boy looked up upon hearing the scream that escaped her lips and seemed to see her for the first time. He opened his mouth, but Mercy didn't get a chance to hear anything he had to say. She blinked and the ghastly figure was suddenly standing in front of her with a tilt of the head.

"Not yet, little Empath. But just you wait. I have a lot in store for you."