"Stiles!"
"What?!" Stiles spun around to face Scott who briskly speed walked down the white tiled hallways behind him.
Scott threw his hands up in frustration, "What do you mean, what?-- Where are we going, and why did Alison tell you to bring Derek? What's happening?"
Stiles shook his head, "I- I don't know. Everything was normal, I was relaying your message. Then she went all young huntress on me and started giving me directions."
Scott blinked at Stiles' words, "Young hunt--"
"The point is we need to go. She said it was an emergency." Stiles said, trying to get Scott moving. He should've just said Alison was in danger at this point.
"O--" Before Scott could agree a teacher walking down the halls behind them called out to them.
"Excuse me, where are you boys supposed to be?"
"Awe damn!" Stiles cursed to himself before Scott turned to address the teacher.
"W-We're heading to Study Hall."
The teacher came to a stop a few dozen feet away and side eyed them suspiciously, "All active Study Hall periods take place on the opposite end of the school." She said.
Stiles' face fell into his hand.
Scott fumbled with his words, only increasing her suspicious until Stiles had enough, "Just go!"
He shoved Scott and the two began sprinting down the hall and out of sight towards the exit.
"Excuse me! Boys!" She called after them, the click of her heels on the floor functioned as a steady reminder for them to keep running down the hall.
As they faded she came to a halt in response to a voice coming in over her walkie-talkie holstered at her hip. The voice radiating from the speaker was old, gravely and chilling. It was the principle. Mr. Argent.
"Leave them."
The teacher picked up her walkie and replied, "Yes, Principle Argent. Would you like to give me the students names? I can contact their parents if they're skipping."
The old chilling voice came again, "Oh no that's fine. I'll talk to them myself....."
***
Stiles stumbled through the parking lot in search of his blue death machine on wheels. It didn't take much searching. He could probably spot the thing from a mile away with a single glance. It just had so much... personality.
With Scott at his side, the two descended on the car at the end of the lot.
"Man, can't say I've ever been chased by a teacher before...that was kind of wild, right?" Stiles said from the driverside door.
"Yea, let's just hurry up and get out of here before she finds us."
"Good point." Stiles said before digging into the pocket of his hoodie.
Nothing.
His pulse quickened as Scott stared. He chuckled sheepishly and dug into his pants pocket.
Nothing again.
His pulse followed.
After about forty seconds of Stiles patting himself down and muttering unintelligible wordings to himself, Scott spoke.
"You're joking, right? Cause if you are it's not funny. Please tell me you didn't lose your keys, Stiles...."
Stiles looked up from his pockets, "Ok.... I won't tell you I lost my keys..... even if it's true.... erhm."
Scott pinched the bridge of his nose.
"It must've happened when we we're running-- I don't know."
"We're going to have to run across town..... if this really is an emergency." Scott said.
"In broad daylight, Scott?"
Scott shrugged, "We can stick to the for--"
The two stopped talking as the sound of footsteps fell on their sensitive ears. Coming from the direction of the large, bricked school. The first thought was the teacher from before. That was until Scott scented the air.
His face went hard as the jingle of keys began to accent the footsteps. And then, out from the cover of the other cars around them, Isaac appeared holding Stiles' keys.
"What are you two delinquents doing?" The lanky WereWolf in black asked.
"What are you doing, Isaac?" Scott returned the question.
"Planning to trick us into thinking you want to turn Jackson again?" Stiles added.
Isaac spun the keyring on his finger as he watched them, "I am sorry about that-- I heard it went..... badly. I was just following orders."
"Yea, well you should know some orders shouldn't be followed. These are innocent people Derek is trying to pull into this."
Isaac shrugged, "Ah. I think that all depends on what you see as innocent.... and what an individual's willingness means on the matter."
"It means nothing, Isaac. Nothing. Are you telling me any of us should've been changed?" Scott asked, his voice rising with his frustration.
Isaac shrugged, as dead in the face as ever, "I don't know, Scott."
"I do." Scott growled, "Hand over the keys."
"Tell me where you're going."
Stiles rolled his eyes, "We don't even know where we're going!"
"I think you're lying." Isaac replied.
"Why is that?"
"Because I have superior senses. You guys talk a lot.... and I hear it."
Stiles raised an eyebrow at him, " I have superior senses as well, goth boy. And guess what, I didn't smell cheap leather and even cheaper cologne anywhere near the library twenty minutes ago. So, I'm calling your bluff. Hand over the keys before we jump you."
Isaac looked serious for a moment and sighed as he tossed the keys to Stiles.
As they two entered the car, Isaac stood by, backing away as they pulled out of the lot. Before they could take off he spoke once more.
"None of you know where Derek lives."
The jeep skidded to a halt.
"...Shit!"
Stiles' head popped out of the driver side window, "Get in the car, man."
Isaac entered the car in a rush and then they were off.
***
The ride through the city was eventful. They raced down streets and backroads taking Isaac's directions that eventually led them to Derek's new residence. At first, Scott and Stiles thought it was a trap after watching Isaac enter an abandoned railway. But then he emerged with the Alpha, who demanded to know what was going on.
He wasn't very happy when they could only say they had no idea. But he came nonetheless, following after them in his sleek black Camaro.
Less than an hour later spent driving a few miles over the speed limit, they ended up in an abandoned plot of industrial land. Rusted grey metal sheds, rows of storage lots and massive warehouses cluttered the area for at least a mile. Behind the clutter of it all, a water tower with the name of the next city loomed, telling them how far out they truly were. The place felt untouched in a real way.
No sounds other than their car engines and the wheels crunching over the uneven gravel echoed through the metal jungle for as far as their sensitive hearing would take them. It was chilling, but it also meant no danger... in theory.
After a few minutes spent navigating through the abandoned steel labyrinth of an area, they skittered to a halt in the driveway of one of the largest warehouses. It had a squared off slanted rooftop, plain metal walls and no more than three windows dozens of feet above eye level. The only way inside came in the way of a sort of pull-down garage door covered in rust and graffiti that said "The Lions Den."
That felt ironic to Scott and Stiles for reasons they didn't know.
But, as Stiles held up the note given to him by Alison, he could see that the address's matched.
"This is it?" Scott asked curiously.
"Yep." Stiles said before following Scott out of the car.
Derek pulled up behind them and exited his car with Isaac.
The group eyed the building in silence. After a few seconds passed, Scott and Derek moved on the door while Isaac and Stiles stood by.
With a loud metallic friction sound, they pulled the garage sliding door open. The smells of old musty air, sweat, metals, leather and Shifter filled their noses immediately.
It was the last smell that had everyone's pulse rising.
Derek forced out his claws and rolled his shoulders with the exhilarating pain of the shift, "Stay alert." He growled.
Soon after, they entered the warehouse, eyes like feral flashlights in the dusted darkness.
The whole area was emptied out, save for a few oddities.
A couple shelves hugged up against walls. Thick ropes running through rings connected to the walls behind them. A pick up truck loomed ahead of them. Surrounding it were weights. Bench presses, squat racks, free weights, kettlebells, sandbags, tires. Everything.
As they approached the pick-up, Stiles looked in the back and found it filled with punching bags.
"What the hell is this?" Derek asked.
"Looks like an abandoned set for Fight Club....." Stiles whispered.
"I loved that movie." Isaac replied as he ran his claws over the hood of the pick up.
Pebbles fell from above suddenly, causing them all to spin around and begin scanning the cieling.
Nothing.
The upper deck showed itself in a metal guarded walkway that bordered the perimeter of the warehouse, there was nothing up there that any of them could see. The ceiling was the same story. Pure darkness with scarce rays of light shining on the oddly intricate network of metal rod work and chains.
Nothing.
"Why did Alison tell us to come here?" Scott asked again.
Stiles froze as something moved in the darkness above. Suddenly, slitted yellow eyes fell on him.
"She told you to come here because I asked her to." Marco's voice echoed from the ceiling.
Everyone's eyes snapped to the ceiling where Marco stalked soundlessly.
Stiles suddenly understood. Back when he was talking to Alison, and she was suddenly completely taken by her phone..... by Marco-- who was hidden in the Library, texting her. He must've seen Stiles bouncing to and from the Library in conversation with both Scott and her. So, he took advantage of the situation. Now the question was, why?
"Why'd you bring us here?" Derek demanded, letting his Alpha Spark empower his voice in the empty warehouse.
"You're texting my girlfriend?" Scott questioned angrily.
Marco's eyes dimmed, "Seriously? That's what you're worried about right now? Romance? Focus on the task at hand for like five minutes, you child."
"What is the task, Marco?" Stiles questioned.
His eyes flashed over to where Stiles stood and for a moment, he felt like he was back in the forest with the Blue-Eyed Beast.
"War, Stiles."
"The Hunters." Derek clarified.
"Yes. This is the task-- this is the focus. Not Romeo and Juliete stories..... not Lacrosse games. War and survival. Victory."
"And that's why you brought us here?" Stiles asked.
"Yes. I don't exactly enjoy the presence of your Druid-- but, I digress. A Druid is rarely the one to present an idiotic idea. I'm here because... Deaton wasn't wrong." Marco explained.
The group couldn't help but notice how he struggled with saying someone was correct.
Scott, Stiles and Derek immediately recalled their discussion with Deaton after fighting the Hunters and Warlocks. He told them they'd die if they continued as they were..... they had nothing to say to that.... hell, they got closer to death by the week it seemed. Deaton would only be more correct in time it seemed. And apparently, Marco had a problem with that. That's why they were in this Warehouse.
"So what are you saying?" Scott asked.
"I'm saying I don't like any of you....."
Stiles rolled his eyes and nodded, "Nice. Very nice."
"I think the Shifters here are weak. You lack knowledge just as much as you lack the power some of you should've been born with. The Hunters here have invaded the land and tainted your history as a species. But, you are Shifters.... like me. That means, in the eyes of everyone else. We are one in the same." Marco explained.
The group on the ground began to listen. This wasn't Marco berating them..... cursing them.... trying to separate himself from them. In fact, it seemed to be the opposite.
"It's because of this that we need to act as such. As the same. Shifters in a war. Because that's what this is. War. And the other side is already advancing by the day. We need to do the same. Or it's as Deaton says. We'll die. I'll be damned before I let those bastards take me without a fight, if any of you have a backbone and a brain, you'll feel the same."
Silence fell. A powerful silence that gave way to an internal roar of understanding.
Scott had that backbone. He had motivation. He wasn't a mindless Monster. He had to protect the innocent-- a responsibility due to a power he now had. He had to protect Stiles-- he brought him into this world because of his own lack of control. And he had to save Alison.
Stiles just wanted to stop being so afraid. He wanted to survive-- to keep his father safe. Stiles was all he had left. And where would Scott be without him?
Derek wanted power. As an Alpha it was his right-- and what he required to stay alive with so many Hunters after him.
Even Isaac had his own reasons. Sure, he had an abusive and belligerent father. But he wasn't always that way. There was a time when he was.... exactly what Isaac needed. The Hunters took the chance of his father ever returning to that away from Isaac. He wouldn't forget that.
Maybe.
Maybe all this equated to what Marco was suggesting. Maybe it always had, beneath the superficial presence of infighting, petty differences and internal drama. Maybe this was always the conclusion..... the new beginning that awaited them.
Derek looked around the warehouses, "So what, you want to start a fitness club and somehow that'll turn the tide here?"
Marco dropped from the ceiling, falling as a yellow eyed blur before abruptly hitting the ground with barely a sound. The fall was almost one hundred feet.... and he hit the ground as if he jumped down a set of stairs.
He rose from his crouched position in front of them wearing a black hoodie and sweatpants. No shoes, no socks.
"No, Alpha." He replied, "I want to teach you all the truth of what you are. I want to teach you how to fight-- to kill, as I've learned. And I want to awaken your shifting potential. I've seen the Wolves of the North in all their glory. You all have the potential to terrify the enemy-- but not as you are. You need to be more in touch. Fully Synthesized. Once we get there, then we can take them. I can get my revenge." Marco explained, saying the last portion of his statement in mind.
"What changed your mind?" Stiles asked.
"The Canima. I can rip through Hunters and Warlocks all day... but they've shown us they're advancing. It's beyond what I can take on my own.." Marco growled, angered by such a fact.
"And you think together we can take it?" Scott asked.
Marco shook his head, "I don't know..... but I'll try."
Stiles had thought it was a good idea to stay on Marco's good side since he first smelled him. "Well. I'm in."
Marco nodded at him faintly. Then his eyes hovered over to Scott.
Scott's gaze didn't falter in the slightest, "We don't hurt anyone that isn't a Hunter."
"Scott..." Marco started as his muscles bubbled beneath his sweats and hoodie, "I will maul anyone that gets in my way."
"And what if it's a Shifter in your way? I thought we were the same." Scott replied.
"We're the same until we aren't. And when we aren't, you'll know." Marco replied.
The threat was tangible in the air. Stiles spoke up, "We're in. We can work out the logistics later..... preferably when we're in a better position as a whole maybe?"
Scott didn't say anything, he just continued to stare at Marco as the Feline Shifter's eyes hovered over to Derek.
"Alpha?"
"We're in. As long as I get to kill the Argents, I'm in."
Marco sniffed the air, "Bad blood?"
Derek said nothing, but also didn't deny.
Marco nodded, "That's good. Real good."
Silence fell. Marco simply looking them all over in the dark warehouse.
It stayed that way for a while until Isaac spoke for seemingly the first time.
"So... what do we do now?"
Marco took a deep breath. At first, it seemed as if his chest was simply rising with the inhalation of air.... but his whole body rose. Swelling and hardening at incredible speeds followed by his jaws extending and thickening with the growth of fangs and deadly incisors.
They looked on at his shifted state in shock and wariness.
In the silence he rolled his neck and shoulders causing a series of booming cracks to ring out through the warehouse. Then he reached up to grab his shoulder and ripped off his hoodie.
As he tossed it off to the side, he took a step towards them to answer Isaac's question.
"Now, we fight."