CHPT 7: Dilution, The Fate of A Race and The Change of a Shifter.....

Since leaving Beacon Hills High, the day transformed into night with a rushed sense of urgency. The Sun dimmed and cowered behind the tall bordering of trees that served as Beacon Hills vast expanse of forestry. With the sky open to be claimed, the Moon rose to power. The height of it's power and size in all it's full glory.

Like an eye in the sky, it slowly began to take watch over the town of terror.

Stiles tried to ignore it's gaze, sinking deeper into the seats of Derek's Camaro like a Wolf trying to find peace in a den that wasn't its own. Naturally, he failed. The Moon's gaze peered through all that was physical. And at the moment, it felt like his forcefully changed soul was on full display. If that's even what the Moon wanted. Maybe it was a simple age old response brought on by a heightened sense of fear and anxiety at the sight of the Moon.....it would make sense considering Wolves don't selectively howl at the Moon. Then again, maybe it was all magic. It had to be. Despite his raging nerves.

The roaring engine of Derek's car halted to a stop, relieving the seats of the constant state of rumbling vibration and leaving Stiles feeling numb. Everyone remained silent. Derek yanked the keys out of from behind the wheel and told them to follow as he exited the car.

"Alpha indeed." Stiles mumbled.

The doors shut loudly behind him, tightening the sleek cord-like muscles in his back and arms like the fastening of straps. He fought off an itching twitch from the beads of sweat that slowly glided down his head and neck.

It was like his body was reacting before his eyes could witness the disturbance. Correction. Not his body, his senses.

It was the house. Sure, the Full Moon made him feel both agitated, feverish, and stronger than usual, but the House is what was drawing so much tension from him. He could smell it.

Heat-- scorching heat.....rot...chemicals and pain. All emanating from the raggedy excuse of an abode that was Isaac Lahey's house.

Like most houses on the block, it was originally a calm and quiet home. A humble spacing with no more than four bedrooms. Two wide oriel windows and a nice wooden door at it's center. Simple. The type of house one sees attached to the word in their minds eye.

Unfortunately, the home had been trashed. Inside and out. The simple grey paint bubbled and chipped as if the inside grew so blisteringly hot that it had gained sentience and attempted to flee. The windows were shattered, their glassy shards reflected the rising Moon-light from the piles they rested in on the ground. The shingled rooftop was missing pieces and marred by scratch-marks. And as if the haunting look required a final touch, the door creaked loudly while it swung in and out on repeat endlessly. The caution tape that once bordered the home lay in the streets, moving with each stray gust of wind it was able to catch.

It was like the place had a physical depression. Like all life was sucked from it after a violent bout of rage and destruction emerged within that it couldn't contain. And now, it was only hollowed remains...

"What the hell happened..." Scott mumbled to Derek.

"They think some sicko's tried to burn down the house to freak everyone out and make them think Kate was back...." Derek replied.

"Who thinks that?" Stiles asked from his left.

"People who can't sense what we can. You feel it don't you?"

"It's impossible not to..." Scott whispered.

"Some of this feeling was here before the house was trashed....back when it was a simple home belonging to a very dysfunctional father and son." Derek explained.

"So you don't know what did this?" Stiles asked.

Derek shrugged, "Could be the Hunters...could be actual arsonists....or it could be our newest problem."

"The Blue-Eyed Beast..." Scott thought to himself.

"Whatever it is, it's not here anymore. Nothing is. Which is why I brought you here, a place to learn, understand and hide. Now let's move."

Scott tightened the hold on his backpack, allowing Stiles to hear the heavy jingle and clank of the chains within.

He shivered to himself before following.

***

When they entered the hollowed remains of the Lahey home, the feeling only intensified and the destruction only grew worse.

Busted chairs, porcelain counter tops lined with streaking cracks, scorch marks lining the walls and floors, it looked like hell had fitted it's way into the home for a fraction of a second.

Derek stood deeper inside the home, looking down at the shattered remains of a polished oak-wood table. As stoic as ever.

Scott and Stiles came to a stop beside him, noticing that he was looking down at a newspaper laying beneath the wooden rubble.

"The reason only we can get Isaac out by working together is downstairs. For now, I'll give you what you want, Stiles."

He stayed silent as Derek turned to look at him with his slightly reddened eyes. "Answers.."

Following his words, he began sifting through the wooden remains until he could pick up the newspaper. Once it was in his grasp, he began talking as he took them on a sort of twisted house tour.

They only followed for one reason. As he said, answers.

"So....." Derek started as he led them down a slim hallway, "It was Scott's second Full Moon. Not even a Month ago. Unlike the first time, you thought you were prepared. He cut off all romantic connections, he worked to tap into his primal anger. He was close to learning his control....but, it was only his second full moon. And Scott is only a halfbreed."

Scott cast an annoyed glance at Derek before the Alpha continued. "Naturally, the Moon affected him in every way. More anger, irritability, aggression, sensory development, weird sexual drive....."

Stiles didn't even need to work to forget the memory that Scott kissed Lydia. He had too much on his mind already.

Derek continued, "By the end of the day, Scott Mccall was not Scott Mccall. He was a WereWolf influenced by the Moon. It happens to the young one's often. A complete character switch. As a result, he no longer wanted to be restrained when night fell-- in fact, he became aggressive towards you whenever you proposed the idea....tell me if I'm getting anything incorrect."

Only when he finished speaking, did Stiles and Scott realize that they hadn't told him a thing about that night.

"Didn't think so." Derek said flatly as they exited the trashed bedroom and headed down the slim hallway once more.

"All that's left....is the violence. Scott's violence. You tried to restrain him, Stiles. You tried to keep him somewhere safe because you knew he wasn't himself and if he got out, it would only mean bad news. So, as a sixteen year old boy with no idea of what he was getting himself into, you tried to restrain a WereWolf."

Stiles' entire back was lined with sweat. His palms felt like they'd been submerged in water and his chest shook with the heavy beat of his heart. He didn't remember much about that night, but the parts he did were nothing short of messy.

He could smell Scott's guilt from a mile away.

"Yea...I tried." Stiles responded as Derek rounded a corner and entered what looked like it used to be a bathroom. He took up speaking again as he flipped through the array of cabinets within. No need for any light in the dark room.

"And you failed-- but not entirely. Any human that fails to restrain a WereWolf on a Full Moon is dead. Dead a dozen times over. But you're fine. A little traumatized-- but fine. It's because you're not Human, Stiles. But you already know that. You knew that the second you woke up in that forest the morning after the Full Moon. The morning after you blacked out while you were being mauled by Scott. Suddenly you could hear better, smell things from miles away and see without the smallest remnants of light-- just as you are now."

Night had almost fallen completely. The interior of the house made it feel darker when combined with the scorched black walls and feelings of pain and rage that permeated the halls. Even so, he could see just fine. Just like everyone else in the house.

Derek closed another cabinet and led them back into the living room as he continued his eerily well understood rehash of their lives post Full Moon, "In that department, you were nearly identical to Scott. But physically, you were different. Unlike Scott, you weren't so easily tempted to Shift. You weren't as physically powerful either. Even so, you made first line just as he did because of your deadly speed and agility. At times you question if you're faster than Scott. And when you do find your anger rising, you grow claws....your gums itch with the growth of your fangs...and you can feel your muscles bubbling and growing with power. Just like Scott. But also, unlike Scott."

They stopped by the shattered table again where the newspaper once resided.

"I'm not a WereWolf." Stiles said what he already knew.

Derek turned to face him, "No, Stiles. You're not. The difference between you and a WereWolf is as clear as day right now."

Stiles looked over at Scott who's eyes flickered in and out of orangish-gold with the rising pull of the Moon. His lips protruded from his face with the growth of his fangs. Despite the growing feral appearance, he still only looked sad. Racked with guilt.

"Scott..." Stiles started before he was cut off by Derek slapping the newspaper to his chest.

"What is this?" He started.

"Read it." Derek demanded.

Stiles pulled his eyes from Scott and looked down at the headline that read, "Coyote Sighting at Beacon Hills Forest Shows the Familiar Canid at Record-Breaking Sizes!"

"You checked the Beastiary for what you are, didn't you?" Derek asked.

"Yea. None of it checked out. And since Scott scratched and bit me, I assumed I was just a faulty WereWolf."

"You ever heard of Sub-Species?" Derek asked. Scott's ears perked up at the word.

"I didn't know that was a thing."

"Most Bestiaries produced by Hunters don't usually show them. Shape-Shifters with little difference often mean little change in danger level. As it does for you....in most cases."

Scott and Stiles stayed silent until Derek said it plainly.

"Stiles, you're a WereCoyote.....also called Were-Lites." Derek said, flicking his head down to the newspaper in Stiles hand once again.

Scott looked even more speechless than before.

Stiles looked from Derek down to the paper in shock. The picture didn't entirely look like a Coyote....more like a large long-limed slender wild-dog. As the paper said, record breakingly large. The image of the Coyote was blurry but unmistakable-- almost the size of a Wolf with it's short-fur and glimmering eyes. Even the low quality camera shot couldn't entirely hide them.

Stiles could've laughed as he muttered the words, "You're saying that's me?"

"Yes."

"H-How?" Scott muttered as he looked down at his hands.

"WereCoyotes aren't changed the way we are." Derek started as he led them to the entrance into the basement. "The change is entirely hereditary for them and is often triggered in life threatening situations. Which is why it happened for Stiles on that Second Full Moon."

Stiles stopped in his tracks, "Wait....hereditary...like inherited?"

"Maybe we should be watching out for Sheriff Stilinski tonight too." Derek said as he headed down the stairs.

Despite his words, Stiles felt nothing from them. He knew his father was as far from a Shape-Shifter as one could be.

Instead, he was left confused until Scott came to a stop beside him. His eyes in full glow and his breaths heavy as he whispered, "Mother...."

"Oh my...."

***

They made it to the basement. Oddly enough, it was far less damaged when compared to the upstairs. The walls were intact, the floor's didn't reek of fire and chemicals. Even the bookshelves remained upright. But the feelings of pain and anger were at an all time high, hanging on the musky basement air like a contained fog.

"Now that you know what you are, you understand how much more involved you are in this right, Stiles?" Derek asked as he led them deeper into the basement.

"We're not joining you." Scott growled.

"Not after what you did." Stiles added.

"I'll bring up the discussion again after." Derek said.

"After what?" Scott asked.

"After you learn." Following Derek's words, he stepped behind a bookshelf, giving way for them to walk deeper inside on their own.

The basement had essentially turned into a long stone-floored hallway. The light of the Moon peering in through the awning windows near the ceiling that cast shadows over the single box freezer on the ground below.

The scents and feelings of pain heightened.

"Don't just look with your noses. Follow all of your senses." Derek said quietly from behind them.

Scott took the lead, absolutely sure of what Derek wanted them to see. Stiles followed, newspaper clutched tightly in his hands.

Once they reached the freezer. They remained still. Not quite ready to understand.

"Open it." Derek said, suddenly at their side.

Looks like they didn't have much of a choice.

In unison, the two Shifters grabbed each side of the lid and pulled it open. The second the airtight seals loosened and the lid rose, the two could've gagged at the sight and smells of it.

No food remained within. The freezer was completely emptied and instead filled with more haunting objects.

Scratch marks, highlighted by dried blood that stood out against the white surface. Scott took an inhale and ran his fingers along the cuts, taking in the scents and feelings until he was reliving it. Seeing it through the eyes of a young and terrified boy trapped in the cold blackness as he clawed away at everything in an attempt to escape.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself looking down at the floor where broken bloody fingernails, torn shards of clothing and the unmistakable scent of urine remained.

"This is why he agreed to the bite." Scott realized.

"The weak are attracted to power." Derek said flatly.

"They're also the most likely to misuse it...." Stiles retorted.

"Context matters." Derek replied, stoic as always.

Silence fell in unison with the tension in the room.

Scott spoke once more, eyes glued to the inside of the freezer. "If we help you. You can't do this anymore. You can't just go giving this kind of power and responsibility to anyone you want, Derek!"

Derek's eyes flashed in response to Scott's growling tone, "I can if they desire it!"

"Did you tell Isaac about Alison's family? About the people helping them?...The Moon?--"

"Or the Beast?" Stiles added.

Derek nodded, "Yes and he still agreed."

"What a dumbass..." Stiles whispered.

"And you're friends with the dumbass dating a Hunter's daughter." Derek snapped.

Scott and Stiles' spines stiffened at his words. Sometimes his ability to know things he shouldn't was almost unfathomable.

"Yea. I know your poorly kept secret. And if I know from all the way out here. They're bound to find out sooner than later, Scott. You two may be a tightly knit duo...but don't let yourselves forget. You are both Omega's. Scott, you've seen what happens to an Omega. With me, I can teach you both to use all of your senses...sense every feeling and difference wherever you are.....and whenever you desire...."

As he spoke, he grabbed their shoulders and forced them to look into his vermilion eyes. His strong hands slowly beginning to crush them into the floor with his incredible power. The pain reversed their transformations, leaving them standing, in pain and covered in sweat as they tried to avoid his gaze. He continued speaking once more.

"...Whenever you desire, even on a Full Moon."

The growl stayed on Scott's face, never wavering even as he was forced back into his human form by the eyes of an Alpha. But Stiles' mind had considered Derek's words. He wasn't wrong. They needed a pack, they needed numbers more than ever or else the piling number of deaths would reach their doorsteps and they'd have no way to defend it.

Their intense discussion was interrupted by the ringing of Stiles phone that had them all jumping like scared cats.

Derek grunted and adjusted his leather jacket as he let them go.

Stiles fumbled through his pockets until he found his phone and answered.

"Hello?"

"S-Stiles...? Stiles!" Alison's distressed rang out from the speaker.

Scott was behind him in a flash, listening intently.

"Yea, Alison, are you ok?" Stiles asked.

"I'm fine. If you guys have a plan for Isaac, you need to act it out.....like right now."

"What happened?" Scott said from behind Stiles.

"My dad and the others...they were asking me about Lydia and if I knew Isaac....and they brought this man in and they had this box....a--"

"Alison, slow down. What is happening." Stiles said.

Alison went silent for a moment. He could hear her breaths shaking over the line before she stilled and continued, "Hunters..dressed in police uniforms. And a man is coming with them. He's wearing a cloak....it smells awful, but when he moves I can hear metal. He's wearing something for combat...."

"What..like armor?" Scott questioned.

"Yea...and I could hear them loading up weapons." Alison added.

"What kind of weapons."

"Guns....traps. The man in the cloak is carrying a Great-Sword....a literal Great-Sword..."

Scott and Stiles' mouths went as dry as a desert. Claws were nothing compared to a Great-Sword.....even worse was that they couldn't go. Not on a Full Moon. But Isaac needed help.

Behind them, Derek eyed the ground with a stony expression as he listened. But, she didn't need to say much more. It was obvious what they planned to do.

"They're going to kill Isaac."

"And possibly any Police that get in their way..." Alison added, voice still lined with terror.

"We're going." Scott and Stiles said in unison as they both remembered Isaac's saddened face at the back of the Police car.

Derek shook his head despite their circumstances, "No. You aren't. It's a Full Moon and neither of you have any control. You'll be a liability. I'm going alone. You two lock up here. Consider my words while I'm gone."

The Alpha made his way out of the basement, prepared to go face a small unit of weapon toting and Great-Sword wielding Hunters.

"Wait." Stiles said, eager to do something for the sake of his father.

Derek stopped in the shadows at the end of the basement hallway.

"We'll help you. We're not in your pack, but you need all the help you can get. One WereWolf isn't surviving against that many Hunters." Stiles blurted out in a rush.

"What are you suggesting?"

Stiles raised the phone to his ear, "Alison, you remember Derek don't you?"

"Stiles...Stiles, no!" Scott started.

"We don't have any other options!" Stiles snapped.

"Alison, Derek will come pick you up where you need it. If you guys can slow them down and get to the station before them. We could save Isaac and my Father, you just need a safe way inside. Usually the front office is less packed around these times. One officer-- two at most. Form a distraction, get in, get the keys behind the desk and get him out." Stiles said to both Alison and Derek.

When he was finished speaking, he threw his phone down the hallway. Derek caught it without looking.

"If you let her get hurt..." Scott started with a growl.

"I know.....What changed your mind." Derek asked.

Scott and Stiles looked up at him with glowing eyes, speaking in unison and hiding a million extra reasons for the sake of one. A simple one that they both believed in, "He's innocent."

As Derek walked deeper into the darkness and out of their sight, Stiles couldn't help but think about if the Blue-Eyed Beast of Beacon would be out under the Moon tonight.....

Hopefully not.