A/N: TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter features mentions of sexual assault/rape. It's not super detailed or anything, but it is mentioned, so if you're not comfortable with that this is your head's up!

I sat cross legged on my bed, staring at the phone in my lap as if it might try to bite me at any second. Calls from the dead? My life had reached an all time high on the creepy scale. But Scott had told me to just stay here, and he'd come and get me. So there was nothing left to do but wait.

I had the radio on, low notes of bass and guitar and drums filling my room, putting my nerves somewhat at ease. I tapped my fingers idly against my leg in time to the music, concentrating on nothing other than the beat. I was so enraptured in my mind numbing ritual, tap tap tap, tap tap tap, tap tap, tap tap tap, tap tap.

"Ryan?" A throaty voice from my left startled me back to the present, causing me to fling myself out of bed, a scream beginning to make its way out of my throat. Isaac lunged for me, his hand covering my mouth immediately to muffle the sound. "Shh!" He looked at me with widened eyes before releasing me as I stumbled backwards, into the wall.

"What are you doing here?" I panted, frustration seeping out of me.

"I couldn't-I couldn't stop thinking about you. I had to see you." He panted, as if he were out of breath just from looking at me. I squinted at him, running a hand through my tangled hair.

"What? Isaac have you lost your mind?"

"No! Yes? Maybe, I don't know. Probably." He angrily ran a hand through his own hair, hanging his head to stare at his feet. "I just…I care about you Ryan. Way more than I should. It's terrifying me. I can't even think straight anymore. I close my eyes and all I see is you, all I smell is you, all I…all I want is you." He lifted his eyes to chance a glance at me, as I stood frozen in place, my mouth hanging open, grasping for words.

In the end, all I managed out was another "…What?"

"All I want. Is you." He repeated, slightly more confident, more sure of himself and his words.

"That's-that's not true! Don't you dare try and trick me like this Isaac!" I brandished a finger at him, shaking slightly for a reason I couldn't place. "You don't want me. You-you hate me! You despise me! You-" Isaac cut me off, marching towards me with purpose, grabbing me from my waist and pulling my mouth to his. It was better than anything I had imagined it would be like, and I took that moment to grudgingly admit to myself that I had imagined it. Many times over.

His mouth was hard and soft at the same time, his lips moving over mine slowly with a tender urgency, almost as if he was guiding me, guiding me through my insecurities, my doubts about his feelings for me, any fears I had previously had about what my first kiss would be like. He tasted like warmth and comfort and blueberries, and when we broke apart I smiled at him, my eyes moving from his eyes down to his lips and back again.

He let out a small nervous laugh, as if he couldn't believe he had just kissed me. And as if he couldn't believe I had just kissed him back. I bit my lip, moving my hands from his chest up to his neck, testing the waters. He let me, watching me intently as I ran my hand through his hair, my other hand tracing his jawline down to the pulse point in his neck. His breathing was heavy, his pulse fast under my touch. I smiled up at him again before moving closer, kissing his neck in ways I didn't know I knew how to.

He let out a groan, an almost feral sound, before he spun me around, lifting me up and pinning me against the half open window. I wrapped my legs around his waist as his hands ran up my shirt, his lips finding my own again. I bit at his bottom lip, laughing into the kiss as he pressed up harder against me. He laughed too, smiling at me as he kissed me over and over again, his hands running up and down my sides, settling firmly on my ass. His kissed from my lips to my jaw, from my jaw to my neck, from my neck to my collar bone, nipping at the skin there as he pushed the thin material of my shirt aside. I threw my head back, biting my lip again to stifle my moan. But I guess that kind of stuff didn't work with a werewolf and their heightened sense of hearing. He grinned up at me in victory, and moved us from the wall to the bed, roughly setting me down and pulling his shirt over his head.

I stared for a minute, not bothering to hide my obviously impressed appraisal. I ran my fingers down his chest, leaning up to kiss right above the waistband of his jeans. He pushed me down quickly, slamming his mouth down onto mine again, his tongue running along my bottom lip. I opened my mouth obligingly, wrapping my arms and legs around him, as if I could somehow crush myself into him.

"Ryan," he breathed into my ear, and I felt like I had been electrified, every nerve ending on my body more sensitive than they had been ten minutes ago. His hands moved down towards my jeans, hastily undoing the buttons and dragging them down my legs…

"Ryan?" I shot up with a startled gasp, as Scott stood in the doorway of the animal clinic, looking slightly worried. "Are you okay? Your heart beat was going crazy."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." I mumbled, adjusting myself in the uncomfortable plastic chair. "Just a nightmare." I took a deep breath and straightened up, suddenly feeling very exposed in my thin gray tank top and a-little-too-short-pajama shorts. I had figured Scott would just take me to his house or something, so I had stripped off my dirty and slightly bloodied clothes in exchange for some comfy pajamas and thrown my hair into a messy bun, not worrying about anyone seeing me.

However, we ended up at the animal clinic, where I met Scott's boss. Dr. Deaton was an odd man with eyes that held a lifetime of secrets for someone who couldn't have been over 40. Scott had thought Deaton might be able to help me, since he "always seemed to know more than everyone else", but after looking me over once or twice, he simply smiled at me and offered me tea, which I politely declined. After that, he told me to take a seat and he'd make me some hot chocolate instead. I obeyed, though I wasn't sure what a cup of tea or hot chocolate was going to do in terms of figuring out what the hell was wrong with me. But who was I to refuse hot chocolate?

I zipped up my black sweatshirt, pulling the sleeves over the ends of my fingers as Deaton appeared behind Scott, a warm mug in his hands. He handed it over to me and my eyes fell to Scott, who nodded encouragingly. I sighed, staring at Deaton over the rim of the cup as I took a few hesitant sips. The last time I drank something given to me by someone else, it had been drugged. The hot chocolate tasted normal though, and I waited for side effects that never came. I didn't know Deaton, but I knew Scott, and he seemed to be the best judge of character in town. If Scott trusted him, then so did I.

"So are you going to ask me why I'm here or…?" I asked, eyeing him to gauge his reaction. All Scott had told him was that something weird had happened to me, and Deaton didn't question it once, not even to survey the situation.

"No." He shook his head pleasantly, like I had just asked if the office was infested with termites and he was proud to say that no, it was not.

"You don't want to talk to me or anything?" I raised my eyebrows, giving Scott a sideways glance. Why had he brought me here?

"Not right now." He smiled again, a kind of neutrally calm smile that somehow put me at ease and made me nervous at the same time. Barking erupted around us, the dogs visibly growing anxious in their cages, and Deaton turned to Scott as he fetched the keys from the wall.

"He's here. I'll let him in." he said, making his way back out to the front.

"Who's here?" I asked, leaning forward to see where he was going. Deaton just stared at me, as if he was waiting to see if I would magically combust or not. I eyed him suspiciously before turning my attention back to the voices out front.

"What's he doing here?" I heard Scott ask, as he opened the door.

"I need him." I heard a low, familiar voice sigh. Derek. I stood up, making my way over to the door and stopped dead in my tracks.

"I don't trust him," Scott complained, his voice thick with obvious disapproval.

"Yeah well, he doesn't trust you either." Isaac pushed past Scott with a roll of his eyes, leaning against the front desk. I felt my cheeks flare up immediately, my heart hammering in my chest so loud that, werewolf or not, I knew everyone could hear it.

"And Derek really doesn't care." Derek scolded, turning and locking eyes with me. "What's she doing here?" he mimicked. Isaac turned his head, standing up as soon as he recognized me. His eyes raked over my outfit and I pulled my sweatshirt down nervously. He cocked an eyebrow, looking back to Scott awaiting his answer.

"Uhh…" he started, looking at me for help. I shrugged at him with wide eyes, more worried about getting the blush across my face to subside. "We had an incident." He settled with, causing Isaac to raise his other eyebrow.

"I thought you and Allison were a thing?" He offered, a bit offended.

"I-what?" Scott narrowed his eyes at Isaac, cocking his head to the side, confusion splayed across his face.

"Not that kind of incident!" I growled through my teeth, narrowing my eyes in annoyance to cover up the heat in my cheeks. "I-" I began, cutting myself off when I noticed Scott shaking his head in the most miniscule of movements. "I decided to go for a walk."

"And you ended up at the animal clinic…? In your pajamas...?" Isaac pressed, raising his eyebrows as I crossed my arms, defiantly lifting my chin to meet his gaze.

"Oh I'm sorry, I forgot. My room is my prison cell and you're my jailor. Right?" Any trace of embarrassment I had had suddenly transformed into a blinding rage. He could've been an eight foot hulking grizzly bear with three heads and bloodthirsty eyes and I wouldn't have budged.

"No. I just didn't think McCall was your type."

"He's not my type!" I shook my head, baffled as to why this was even relevant. "No offense," I added over my shoulder towards Scott, who smiled politely at me and nodded.

"None taken."

"What makes you think you even know what my type is?" My voice rose an octave and Isaac just stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking down at me, a small smile tugging at his lips. Barking sounded from the back of the clinic, and my head snapped towards the sudden barrage of sound. Derek let out a loud roar, and I flinched as the barking subsided.

"All right, enough of the high school drama. We have more important things to worry about!" Derek sighed, clearly frustrated with being surrounded by teenagers. "Now where's the Vet? Is he gonna help us or not?"

"That depends," Deaton appeared in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him, or save him?"

"Kill him."

"Save him."

Derek and Scott respectively answered. The two turned to look at each other, each clearly annoyed.

"Save him," Scott countered more forcefully, staring Derek down until her looked away with a roll of his eyes, signifying his reluctant agreement. Scott turned back to Deaton, giving a small nod. "Save him."

Deaton ushered us into the same back room I had been sitting in minutes before, clearing the metal operating table in the middle before he began to dig through the cabinets. I kept my eyes on my feet, for fear of them somehow drifting over to Isaac like they always managed to do. I kept my distance from him, sitting in my plastic chair and kicking my feet back and forth as if I was a child. In some ways I still was a child, refusing to grow up and join the real world because of what had been stripped from me when I was younger. My innocence had drowned in that lake along with Casey, leaving nothing but a chilling emptiness and a sense of dread in its place.

Even now I felt it, like an old friend as permanent as the shadow below my swinging feet. A shiver ran down my back and I grew cold. Not the kind of cold that can be fixed with a blanket or a sweater, but the kind that needs someone's arms around you, stroking your hair and telling you that you'll be okay. But I wasn't going to find that here. Here I was all but intruding on this meeting that clearly wasn't something I was meant to be here for.

"Ryan? Could you give me a hand please?" Dr. Deaton called, lifting down what looked like a spice rack from one of the top shelves. He handed it to me and I brought it over to the table, carefully setting it down. Almost immediately Isaac reached for it, his hand hesitant but persistent. Derek grabbed him, roughly yanking his hand away with a roll of his eyes.

"Watch what you touch." He looked like a grade school teacher who had to continuously tell his students not to eat the crayons, and I bit down on my lip to stop myself from laughing. Deaton began rummaging through the contents of the tray, lifting up jar after jar of assorted sands and spices.

"So," Isaac bent down, leaning forward so that his forearms rested against the metal table. "What are you? Some kind of witch?"

"No." He eyed Isaac levelly, a jar still in his hands. "I'm a veterinarian."

"Oh." Isaac breathed, nodding exaggeratedly. I let out another giggle, and when Isaac looked up at me, another dumb smirk on his face, I let myself smile back at him for a minute.

"Unfortunately I don't see anything here that's gonna be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin." Deaton sighed, setting down another jar.

"We're open to suggestions."

"What about an effective offense?" Isaac offered, looking from his hands up to Deaton.

"We already tried. I nearly took it's head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up." Derek countered.

"Has it shown any weaknesses?"

"Well one, it can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No." Scott interjected. "He's the captain of the swim team." There was a collective sigh as Isaac straightened himself up, and Deaton spoke again.

"Essentially you're trying to catch two people." He spun around, quickly opening a drawer and drawing out a small medallion. "A puppet." He held it up for display, emphasizing his point. "And a puppeteer." He placed the medallion on the table, watching everyone, including me, closely. "One killed the husband, but the other had to take care of the wife. Do we know why?" I crossed my arms behind my back and rocked forward on my feet, staring down at the medallion like that would make the answer come to me. It felt very much like I was in class watching a teacher do their 'I-know-the-answer-but-I'm-not-giving-it-to-you-until-someone-says-it' routine. Finally, Scott offered up an answer.

"I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too and she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn't let the same thing happen to someone else."

"How do you know it's not part of the rules?" Isaac kept his eyes on the table as he spoke, the gears in his head turning slowly. "The kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too."

"Does that mean your father was a murderer?" Scott glanced over at Isaac, his face a mask of cold indifference.

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was." I ceased my rocking, accidentally knocking into the table. My arm flew out to steady myself, knocking into the side of the spice rack and sending a jar of dark black powder on the end smashing onto the table. Everyone stared as I sheepishly looked up, muttering a sorry under my breath.

"What do you think Ryan?" Dr. Deaton asked, cocking his head to the side as he surveyed me.

"Me? Don't ask me. I know who's a werewolf and who's a kanima, but that's pretty much where the extent of my knowledge ends." I shook my head, shrugging. "I didn't even know it was afraid of the water."

"Give it your best educated guess then," He pushed, leaning forward as his fingers danced across the top of the jars. I blew out a breath, staring at the medallion again for some kind of inspiration.

"Okayyy. Well, you said Jackson's being manipulated, right? From a psychological standpoint, I would say that maybe whoever is controlling Jackson is the one afraid of water. But I don't really think that's helpful." I folded my arms across my chest, trying to think of anything else that could be useful.

"Wait, why do you say that?"

"Well it's like a defense mechanism of sorts, like projection. Like, when you really don't like someone but you have no real reason, so your mind writes it off as saying that person doesn't like you. The reality is too stressful and anxiety-provoking for the mind to deal with, so it rids itself of the blame, placing it elsewhere." The three boys in front of me stared at me dumbfounded, but Dr. Deaton seemed to understand where I was coming from.

"I mean, I'm fairly certain psychology and the supernatural are on two opposite sides of the spectrum. But that's the first thing that popped into my head."

"I actually think we're getting somewhere here." Dr. Deaton nodded at me encouragingly, turning back to the rest of the boys. "The book says they're bonded, right? So what if," Deaton grabbed the remains of the jar I had smashed, emptying the remains around the medallion. "something that affects the kanima also affects it's master?"

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning we can catch them." Scott smiled, glancing around the room at all of us. "Both of them."

"Exactly." Deaton nodded. "Ryan, would you mind helping me clean up?" He turned to me, another polite smile on his face.

"Of course," I nodded, taking the empty jar he handed me. "Sorry about the jar." I unscrewed the top, holding the jar against the edge of the table and sweeping the black powder into it.

As soon as my skin made contact with the powder, there was an odd blue spark and I felt an electric current run up my arm.

"Ow!" I yelped, jerking my arm away immediately. "What is that stuff?"

Dr. Deaton stared at me for a minute, his expression a mixture of curiosity and confusion.

"That is mountain ash. And it's believed by many cultures to protect people."

"Protect people? Protect them from what?" Isaac asked, as Scott came up behind me, glancing at the hand I was cradling against my stomach.

"From the supernatural." I felt the spare jar in my hands slip through my fingers, but I heard no crash. I turned around slowly, vaguely noting that Scott had caught the jar and was placing it on the metal table.

But you knew Ryan. You always knew.

I looked at Derek, who was kept looking between me and his hands like he was having some big epiphany, as if the creation of the universe finally made sense to him. Isaac looked just plain confused, eyes wide as he looked me up and down, as though someone as inconspicuous as me just could not be something supernatural. Scott looked more worried than anything, holding his arms slightly outstretched to me, like he would catch me if I fell, staring at me like I might shatter into a million little pieces at any second.

"I think it's time we had that talk Ryan." I looked back at Deaton, feeling only half awake. Was I still dreaming? This had to be a dream. I nodded, moving towards my plastic chair in the corner when all of the barking started up again.

"What is up with them today?" Scott sighed, making his way into one of the side rooms.

"Deaton! It's Rosie!" He called back, panic creeping into his voice. There was a fumbling metal sound, and then Scott reappeared, cage in hand. There was a small dog inside, lying limp on its side, black blood pooling around its mouth. He quickly opened the cage, pulling her out to check her pulse, before he let out the breath he had been holding.

"She's dead."

I stared at the dog's head, its sandy fur stained black, as a sinking feeling settled into the pit of my stomach. You know. You know you know you know. A voice drilled into my head. You know what happened. My head pounded and my vision swam, slivers of my past infusing into my present. I blinked and Rosie was gone, replaced by Casey's limp body, black blood oozing from her mouth and ears.

"No," I shook my head, digging the bottom of my palm into my eye, to stop the throbbing and what I was seeing. Every time I blinked the image changed, from Rosie to Casey and back to Rosie. I felt like there was a strobe light blaring from the ceiling, obscuring reality and slowing it down. I reached my hand out towards the dog, gently petting it's paw, before I had the breath stolen from me, as if I had been hit hard in the stomach. I flinched, backing away with a gasp.

"She's dead! I killed her! I killed her!" I cried out, the sobs racking my body so hard I felt myself leaning forward, the weight of my body feeling heavier and heavier as I sunk to my knees. Rosie. Casey. Casey. Rosie. It didn't matter which I was talking about, because I knew. I knew I had killed them both. Tears streamed down my face and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop the wailing or the awful convulsing gasps that were overtaking me.

I felt arms wrap around me and I instinctively clung to them, fearing I might break apart if they let go. I twisted in their grasp, expecting to see Scott there, eager to try and calm me down. But instead my eyes met crystal blue ones, Isaac staring at me in a frenzied panic.

"I'm sorry about your dad," I choked out, unsure why but unable to stop myself. He gave me another look before pulling me closer, cradling me against his chest as his hand smoothed down my hair. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I repeated over and over, a persecutor's prayer for the lost. I heard people talking in the background, but it all seemed like white noise. My vision grew hazy, and the last thing I heard was Isaac shushing me softly as he stroked my hair, pushing it out of my face.

I awoke to bright lights, feeling both cold and warm at the same time. I tried to push myself up onto my elbows, but immediately fell back down, feeling absolutely drained. My arms hit cold metal and my head hit something only slightly softer. I blinked harder, realizing I was lying atop the table in the middle of the clinic. I had a blanket draped over me and with a twist of my head, I saw that my head was resting on a folded up leather jacket.

I tried sitting up once more, letting out a strangled yelp when my blanket started moving, leaping towards my face. I pulled back as something warm and wet brushed my nose, scrunching up my face.

"More of a cat person?" Derek sat slumped in the plastic chair to my left, jacketless and amused.

"I'm allergic to cats." I stroked Rosie's head a few times, as it sat on my lap wagging its tail happily. "What happened?"

"We were hoping you could tell us." Deaton appeared in the doorway, glancing from me to Rosie. I still felt like he knew more than he was letting on, like there was something he wasn't telling me.

"Where's Scott?" His absence suddenly became very apparent, and I wasn't sure how much I trusted Dr. Deaton anymore.

"He's…talking to a friend." Deaton gave Derek a quick look and I raised my eyebrows, turning my attention to Derek. He stared down at his hands, refusing to meet my eyes. It was then that I noticed the yelling, particularly Isaac's raised voice.

"You're not going in there!"

"Isaac, it's okay. Let her go in."

"No, she's not getting anywhere near Ryan, are you insane? What happened to Mr. high and mighty Scott McCall, savior of EVERYONE?!"

"What are you talking about? I'm not gonna let anything happen to Ryan!" Scott said, sounding exasperated and annoyed. I heard Isaac scoff, and Scott's voice grow louder. "Oh what, now you suddenly feel the need to try and protect her? You think you could do a better job than I have?"

"Maybe I could!"

"Ryan is perfectly safe with me!"

"If you ask me, you both seem pretty incompetent, and I don't think you could stop me even if you wanted to, so…" hearing her voice felt like being doused with ice water, my body completely awakening and going into fight or flight mode. I straightened up, glancing over my shoulder towards the open door at the back of the room and before I knew what I was doing I was flinging myself off of the table, running towards my only escape route.

Big arms scooped me up as I approached the door, and I reached out to cling to the door frame, kicking at Derek as he locked me against his chest.

"Come on Ryan," He coaxed, pulling me away from the door and back towards the center of the room, as I continued to thrash. He set me back down on the table, but kept his hands tight on my arms. "Please. I promised Casey."

"Promised Casey what?!" I yelled, feeling myself reach my breaking point. I leaned forward, letting my face fall into my hands as Derek let go, rubbing my temples in hopes of killing the budding headache I felt. "Will someone tell me what is going on?!"

"Well that is what I'm here for, but you felt the need to flee the room when you heard me, so I don't know how helpful this is going to be." Ava stood in the doorway, Scott and Isaac standing behind her on either side.

Avery had a small bruise which looked like it was in the process of fading on her right cheek where I had struck her, and her hair looked like it was leaking brown, her roots finally attempting to overtake the fake blonde dye. I stiffened up instinctually, and Derek gave my hand a comforting pat, surprising me. She took another step towards me and Derek immediately intervened, moving to stand in front of me.

"That's close enough."

"Is this some kind of joke? Last time we talked, she punched me."

"I didn't mean to," I interjected, my voice stronger than I thought it would be.

"Right, your arm just twitched, hitting me with the force of a freight train."

"You started it," I mumbled, defending myself like a four year old.

"I know, I know." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. After Casey died, my parents took me to see a doctor. Apparently I wasn't handling everything the way I should've been. I was acting out. I was sad for a while but then I was happy, and I was just so angry at everything. All at the same time. The doctor diagnosed me with Bipolar I, experiencing episodes of Mixed Bipolar Disorder." Avery made her way over to the chair in the corner and I felt my jaw drop slightly, staring at her with wide eyes. I had done this. I had ruined this girl's life.

"This was my fault," I muttered, shaking my head slightly. "Ava, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It wasn't your fault Ry. My grandfather was bipolar. It's hereditary. The stress just triggered it, that's all. I could have as easily been triggered by a hard test at school or a bad fight with my parents. It was going to come eventually. Don't you dare blame yourself for this." She brandished a finger in my direction, sighing as she relaxed into her seat.

"I was just…so angry and upset and I know it wasn't your fault, I know you had no choice, but you still left. You know the truth is, if you hadn't left you probably wouldn't be half as confused as you are right now." She made a face at me and I managed to smile at her, the knot in my stomach slowly untying.

"Tell me about it," I huffed, and she smiled back at me, nodding a little bit.

"There's the Ryan I knew."

"And there's the Ava I knew."

"Do you remember when Casey and you were so determined to have your own little club at school? You guys wanted to be the girls everyone envied," She started, a look of nostalgia painted across her face.

"Casey wanted all of that! And I wanted Casey to be happy." I laughed, shaking my head at the memories I had been denying myself to remember for so long.

"And you guys said that aside from you two, the only other person allowed in the club was me. Casey wasn't thrilled about the idea at first, but you fought her on it. You fought for me, you always did." She let out a sad chuckle, rubbing a hand over her forehead. "Some club we have now. Casey's dead, you have PTSD, and I'm a Bipolar mess. Looks like sick is the new sane." She let out another dispirited breath, massaging her temples.

"But I'm not here to talk about the past. I'm here to talk about the future. There are some things you need to know, and as hard as it may be to listen to them, I need you to try Ryan." Her serious tone made me feel lightheaded and I gave my head a weak nod, already feeling the room start to spin. But I was going to try. For Ava and for Casey.

"Do you remember that party we went to? Duncan Monroe's party?"

"Wait a minute, Ryan used to party?" Isaac took a few steps forward, leaning up against the edge of the table I was sitting on, pointedly ignoring the glare I was giving him to look at Ava. She gave him a small smile, raising her eyebrows.

"Are you kidding? Ryan loved parties. I could tell you so many stories. Like there was this one time-"

"Ava." I warned, giving her a look and getting her back on track.

"Right, sorry. That's when it all started I guess. Do you remember that night? And what happened with Casey?"

"You mean when he raped her." It wasn't a question of whether I remembered or not. It was a question of if I could forget. I squeezed my eyes shut, as anger and hatred flooded my veins. I heard Ava talking, but I couldn't understand what she was saying. All I heard was a dull beat, growing louder as the bass dropped. Indistinguishable chattering and slurred words and Casey, where was Casey?

I opened my eyes and I was back in the living room, bodies crowding me as I pushed through, spotting a brunette with porcelain skin sitting with her friends on a sofa.

"Case?" I stumbled forward into the group and Ava caught me, giggling.

"Hey Ry, did you have too much to drink?"

"I haven't had anything to drink," I narrowed my eyes at her, grabbing the red cup dangling from her fingers. "But apparently you have." Ava burst out into another fit of laughter, the blonde girl next to her joining in as she looped an arm across her shoulders.

"Where's Case?" I shouted over the music, and she shrugged, tilting her head to the side.

"Ryan? Ryan! Stay with me, come on!" Ava's face morphed, her voice maturing and sobering up. I watched blonde streaks appear in her hair as if the sun had shed its tears atop her head.

"What's happening?" Scott's panicked voice broke through to me, and the scene before my eyes flickered before melting away. Ava knelt in front of me, her small hands encircled around my wrists which were currently pressed up against the sides of my head. She tapped her forehead against mine, a gentle sigh escaping her lips.

"Come on, you're tougher than this. Fight through it." She whispered sternly at me before drawing away. "Find something and focus on it. Let it keep you grounded. Stay with us, here. Don't go back there Ryan. You won't like what you find, you already know that."

I took a deep breath, surprising myself with how much I seemed to need it. I felt like I had just ran a mile, like no matter how much air my lungs consumed, it wasn't enough. I had had enough panic attacks in my lifetime to know that that wasn't what this was. This was something different entirely. My hands began to shake, and Ava pursed her lips.

"What's happening to me?" I asked breathlessly, looking around from Derek to Deaton to Ava, hoping someone could finally give me some kind of answer. Drawers started flying open, cabinets and doors slamming. A potted plant behind me shattered and I bent forward, covering my head as I let out a scream.

"Ryan calm down! You need to calm yourself down!" Ava shouted, glancing nervously around the room, eyeing me like the loose cannon I was.

"I don't know how to!"

"Well you better learn fast!"

Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. I chanted it like a mantra in my head, reminding myself of how a person might count sheep to fall asleep. But counting sheep never actually worked, and neither did this. You're tougher than this Ryan. Ava's voice echoed through my head. But what if I wasn't? What if I just simply was not strong enough?

I thought of Lydia and how effortlessly she could control herself. How strong and smart and resilient she was. Lydia would suck up the tears, tell herself to breath, and march on in her heels, her designer handbag swinging at her side. She would leave the chaos and despair in a crumpled mess behind her, and she would not look back. I threw a frantic glance in Scott's direction and he caught my eyes, flaring his nostrils once and then opening his mouth as his chest deflated.

In through the nose, out through the mouth.

I mimicked him, squeezing my eyes shut tight to quiet the world around me. If I could not see it, it was not happening. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Scott would fight through this. Scott would fight for me to fight through this. Scott would save me, no matter what it took. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Scott would save me. I am safe.

Scott and Stiles and Allison and Lydia, they would all save me. My friends would save me. My friends. Even Erica and Isaac and Derek might save me if they were in a good mood. I am safe I am safe I am safe. They would protect me. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It was time to protect myself. They were all so strong, and it was time for me to follow in their footsteps. I needed to be strong. I was strong. Throughout everything life had thrown my way, I had survived. I was a survivor and I would not let myself give up. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

"You did it." Isaac tapped my hand lightly as my eyelids fluttered open, and everything had gone still in the room. It looked like a hurricane had swept through the clinic, leaving nothing but a few shattered jars and broken drawers in its wake. Ava's hair was windswept, and she gave Derek a sad, defeated look that normally would have sent my stomach rolling into a fit of anxious disappointment. But instead, all I felt was relief.

It had taken me a while to calm down, but I had done it. I had stopped…whatever it was that I was doing. For the longest time my greatest fear had been myself. But if I could control myself, even just an act as simple as calming myself down, then there was still hope. I was not as strong as I wanted to be, but I wasn't as weak as I thought I was either. It was a tiny victory in a war full of losses, but I was feeling strangely optimistic.

"Ryan if this is too much for you we can wait." She gave me a small smile that didn't reach her eyes, and I immediately shook my head.

"No. I can do it." I nodded, more sure of myself. "Just…rip the bandaid off. No suspenseful story telling tactics." She gave one curt nod, before continuing.

"Okay. Well, Casey and I had known about werewolves our whole lives. Our family helped out a pack that lived in the woods by us up in New York." She fiddled with her fingers, like she wanted to say more but was restraining herself. "After she was raped, Casey changed. I know you saw it too. I had always heard stories of girls feeling a lot of guilt after being sexually assaulted. Feeling dirty, scared, paranoid. But Casey wasn't like that. Not at all. She became hell bent on revenge. She wanted Duncan to pay for what he had done. With his life." Ava paused, gauging my reaction. But all I did was raise my eyebrows at her.

"No dramatic pauses." She sighed, rolling her eyes a bit at me.

"I had never seen her like that, and anytime I tried to talk her out of it, she would shut down and shut me out. I was so scared I would lose her trust forever, that I told her I'd help. First she went to the pack, asking them to do her bidding for her. They refused her, of course. They were peaceful, and didn't believe in killing humans, even ones as vile as Duncan Monroe. That's where Casey met Derek. He was staying with the pack while he was in New York and…" Ava trailed off, staring at Derek's feet as he grew increasingly uncomfortable.

"I told her that humans could be turned into werewolves if an alpha bit them." He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Is that bad?" I asked, turning towards him. "I don't understand. Hadn't she already known that?" Ava shook her head, her lips pursed into a thin line.

"There were some things our parents kept from us, for obvious reasons. They didn't want something like this to happen. But when Casey found out, there was no stopping her. You know how stubborn she was. Thomas, the alpha at the time, rejected her. He knew that biting Casey would destroy his relationship with our family. And not to brag or anything, but the Scott's are a pretty prestigious family in the ranks of the werewolf community. But Case wouldn't let it go. She found a different pack, a willing alpha, and she took the bite. But what she didn't know was that the bite doesn't always work. It will either turn you…or kill you."

"But that doesn't make any sense. She was fine before she jumped into that lake. She was alive."

"She was alive, but she wasn't healthy. She was getting sick. She was dying."

"It's not always instantaneous. It's usually slow and painful." Derek chimed in, his eyes dark and guilt ridden. "Casey was a strong hearted girl, so it was slower than usual. She grew sicker and sicker. It lasted weeks." Derek shook his head and I turned my attention back to Ava, who was biting her lip as she stared at me.

"What happened in the lake might have killed Casey. But Casey was already as good as dead. If anything, you did her a favor Ryan. You have to stop blaming yourself for it."

"Everyone blamed me for it," I mumbled, settling my gaze on my hands clasped together in my lap. "You blamed me for it."

"I blamed you for leaving me. Not for what happened to Casey. Never for Casey."

"While this seems to be a painfully unnecessary trip down memory lane, you still haven't answered the biggest question, and the reason we brought you here." Isaac quipped, tapping his fingers impatiently against the table. "Everyone is so certain Ryan killed Casey in that lake, but no one can tell us how."

"I'm getting to that." Ava shot back, annoyed.

"So much for short and suspenseless," Isaac muttered, looking away. Avery ignored him, launching back into her story.

"Casey figured out what you were before anyone else. It started on the night she had planned to enact her revenge; the night she planned to murder Duncan. You had slept over because she wanted to make sure she knew you were safe, and she had me watch over you. Casey had been talking to Derek about her condition, but she just wouldn't believe that she was too weak for this. It was her swan song so to speak, and if she was dying she wanted to make sure she took Duncan with her."

"Did she?" Scott asked, breaking the eerie mood of her story. Ava clenched her fists, clearly frustrated with her audience, but I gave Scott a small smile, grateful for the interruption. It helped to keep me in the present. "Did she kill him?"

"She never got the chance to." She shook her head, her voice cracking slightly. "He was camping in the woods with a bunch of his dick bag friends, but when Case got to their campsite, it was chaos. Everyone was in a frenzy, running everywhere and screaming as if they were little girls dropped into a horror film. She never got a chance to kill Duncan, because Duncan was already dead." Her eyes fell on me as she straightened her back, and I felt four other pairs of eyes follow.

"Me? You're saying I killed Duncan? I was asleep! You were watching me!"

"I know Ry. That was the weird part." She scratched at the back of her head, as if she still didn't quite understand what she was telling me. "You were talking in your sleep. You kept tossing and turning, and crying out, like you were having one hell of a nightmare. I couldn't wake you up because I knew you'd see Casey gone and freak out. But you just kept saying 'don't do this, please don't do this'. When Casey got home and told me what had happened, we woke you up. I think you were still probably half asleep, but you sat up and asked what time it was. It was raining and you asked why Casey's hair was wet. We didn't answer you though and you got annoyed, rolled back over, and went back to sleep."

"I do remember that. I remember seeing Casey's eyes glowing yellow. I thought I was dreaming."

"The thing is Ry, when you sat up, your shadow didn't look like you."

"What? A shadow is a shadow Ava, how could it not look like me? It's just a silhouette."

"Well…your silhouette had wings." I noticed Isaac briefly shift his position so he could stare at my back and I turned to him with narrowed eyes.

"I do not have wings!" He held his hands up in defense, his eyebrows rising on his forehead.

"I was just checking…"

"After I told Casey what you had said she became obsessed with it, on cracking the code. 'How had you killed Duncan?'"

"I still don't understand how she was so sure I was the one who killed Duncan," I furrowed my brow, cocking my head to the side. Duncan was an awful, awful kid, and Casey had told me he was the one who raped her. And yeah, maybe I had wished that bad things would happen to him once or twice or three hundred times, but I had never wished death upon him. Ava let out a big sigh, and dug a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket.

"This might be a little triggering. Remember, stay calm." She handed me the piece of paper slowly, and I unfolded it, my eyes scanning over the brown letters carefully. Only four letters, and yet they meant the world.

R y a n

"It was written in his blood. Casey found it next to a shattered wine glass, with his finger sliced open."

I felt my mouth open and close a few times, searching for words I knew I'd never find. I shoved the piece of paper away from me, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat. Derek took it, gently folding it and sliding it into his own pocket.

"After that she looked through book after book on mythical creatures, googled everything she could on supernatural causes of deaths, read our entire bestiary cover to cover. It wasn't until she had found some of our family's old notes that she pieced it together. She called you an angel of death." Ava stopped, letting the information sink in. I could feel everyone watching me, Derek, Scott, Deaton, Isaac. My new sense of pride from before had vanished, and once again I felt ready to dissolve into my surroundings.

"An angel of death." I repeated incredulously. That couldn't be it. It couldn't.

"I didn't really buy it either. But that was the last thing she told me before she ran off to that lake. After she died…well I figured that she couldn't have been completely wrong. So I picked up the last of her research and dug deeper. I still don't have all the answers, but I was hoping you could help me with some of that yourself,"

"How am I supposed to help you if I don't even know what I am?"

"You're a Valkyrie Ryan. A corpse prophetess."

"A Valkyrie?" Dr. Deaton stepped forward, looking at as if I were one of his furry patients. "I can't say I've run into too many of them. Their name is derived from the Norse word valkyrja. Do you know what valkyrja means in Norse Ryan?"

I felt my mouth go dry as everything seemed to fall into place. The constant shroud of death that seemed to ride around on my back. The weird dreams that sometimes held hidden truths.

"'Chooser of the slain,'" I said, feeling the color drain from my face. "I am an angel of death."

"Hey," Isaac nudged my shoulder with his arm and I looked up at him, feeling the tear slide down my cheek.

"You can also be an angel of life," Ava said softly, picking herself up out of the chair and coming over to me to place a hand on my knee. "Like with that puppy." She smiled, her thumb rubbing soothing circles against my skin.

"I killed Rosie."

"And then you saved her." Deaton spoke with a quiet authority, a soothing tone to his voice.

"You're not in this alone Ryan. We'll figure all of this out. Together." Scott smiled at me, offering me his hand and helping me down off of the table. "Why don't I take you home so you can get some sleep. It's been a long day."

"Actually Scott, I need you and Derek to help me with a few things. Isaac, why don't you take Ryan home?"

"Uhhhh…okay…" He pulled his lips in, standing up straight and walking towards the door. I moved to follow him but Ava caught at my arm, a light tug on my sleeve like she used to do when she was little.

"Ry? I just wanted to say…I'm sorry for how I acted. Really. I know how hard everything must have been for you. And…I've missed you. I hope you don't hate me." Ava sniffled a little and smiled at me, holding back the tears like she always used to. She was a tough girl, through and through. I pulled her into my arms, squeezing her tightly. She was all I had left of my old life, a life I had loved so very dearly, and if there was one thing I was sure of, it's that I wouldn't let anything happen to her.

"I could never hate you, Ava." I kissed the top of her head as I pulled away. "Hey wait a minute. Where have you been staying? Do you need a place to sleep?"

"Don't worry about it right now Ryan. I've got a place to stay though. We'll talk about it another time. Head on home, you look like hell." She smiled at me and I rolled my eyes, giving her arm a playful shove.

"Ready to go?" Isaac rocked back and forth on his heels a few times, looking like the personification of nerves. I nodded, following him out of the clinic. My hand tingled and instinctually swung up, and I immediately shoved it into the pocket of my sweatshirt when I realized that I was craving someone's hand to hold. And by someone, specifically I meant Isaac.

Vivid memories of my dream came flooding back to me and I pulled my hood up in an effort to hide how red my face must have been turning. Isaac looked down at me offhandedly, tilting his head up so I was painfully aware of the pale skin of his neck, stretched tight over his collar bone peeking out of his shirt. All I wanted to do was taste the skin there, feel how soft and smooth it was under my mouth-

"Are you cold?"

"Hm?" I blinked up at him, hearing everything he had just said but unable to process any of it.

"You put your hood up. Are you cold?"

"No." I answered too fast, and let my eyes fall shut in exasperation. This was Isaac. Isaac who thought I was annoying and helpless and in the way.

"Oh. Okay…" The sidewalk suddenly seemed too small and he was too close to me, and I needed to get away from him, I needed air, I needed space, I needed to not be thinking about what it would be like to kiss him.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, and I couldn't remember ever feeling so nervous because of a boy before. Especially one I had previously and still presently kind of sort of hated? Whatever was going on, I did not like it, and I would not let myself fall for Isaac Lahey. I would not.

Of course, the moment I mentally declared that was the moment I tripped over the crack in the sidewalk, and, quite literally, fell for Isaac Lahey.

He caught me by the elbow, quickly propping me back upright on my feet and quietly chuckling at my misfortune.

"Shut up, you overgrown puppy." I grumbled, pushing my sleeves up angrily and storming ahead.

"Well the overgrown puppy has better reflexes than you do."

"The overgrown puppy has enhanced supernatural reflexes!"

"And the Valkyrie doesn't?" His voice was low, serious and inquiring.

"I…I don't know. Apparently not. Looks like I got the short end of the supernatural stick." I kept my eyes on my feet, determined to keep any other potential disasters to a minimum.

"You really miss her, don't you?" Even though it was a bit on the random side, I knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Every minute of every day."

"I'm sorry. I know how much it must hurt." I looked up at him, slightly taken aback by his sudden change of topic.

"I-" My eyes drifted to my house, a few yards down the block and I felt my heart sink to the floor. All of the lights were on, including the one in my bedroom, meaning one thing and one thing only. My parents were awake. My parents were awake and aware that I was gone. "Fuck."

A/N: OKAY SO THE CAT IS OUT OF THE BAG. Ryan is indeed supernatural yayyyy. :D The whole Valkyrie idea is actually what made me decide to start this story, so I hope you guys like it. :] There's still more to it than what Ava was saying, but that's still to come. ;] Ryan is starting to have some conflicting feelings for a certain blue eyed werewolf ooh la laaaaaaaaa. :* Heh hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Lots of revelations. Let me know what you think!

Thank you so much to everyone who has favorited or followed this, and thank you to aMuseMe13, WickedlyMinx, Katherine, BriancyyD, Kazuha159, Ryanrene97, THORina2245, myharlequinromance321, CrimsonHeart77, nikkita starr ta, MaybeRun, Jenna, Lin148, and guest 21 for your lovely reviews! And a special thanks to my angel, LionHeartMisfit, for all of her encouragement and help with figuring out what wacky shit my computer is doing. :*

Teen Wolf season 4 finale tomorrow guys, are you ready? I'm not. Hella excited for Wolf Watch though!