Kate screams because that's the only action her mind can comprehend to carry out. The last thing she remembers is the feel of Peter's sharp alpha claws tearing into the soft flesh of her throat and the smell of blood. Then everything went dark, blank. She faded into nothingness. She died. She knows that she died.

She screams again because this isn't real. This can't be real. People don't come back from the dead. Somehow the sound of her ear-piercing scream amiss the stone, cold, quiet darkness calms the huntress and gives her a chance to take a breathe and look around.

She lets out a chuckle for probably longer than any sane person should have. "You've got to be kidding me." An eye roll followed as she looked around the Nematon. Of course she'd been here before, more times than she probably should have. She knew what this place was, but it had always been dead. There was something different now, something darker. Kate could feel it. She could feel the power that surrounded the Nematon, the power that was undoubtedly responsible for ripping her from death's claws.

Kate tried to stand, but her body was still weakened. She's still wearing the same blood stained and dirt-covered clothes she was wearing the night she was killed. Obviously rising from the dead took a lot out you. She found herself crashing to the ground, getting light headed all of a sudden. Great. Just great. The huntress was stuck in some godforsaken root cellular without any way to get out or protect herself. She was a sitting wait, vulnerable to attack.

Isaac was walking by himself, headed for his old house to get some of the stuff he'd left behind. After the police investigation on the death of his father had been closed, he'd been cleared to go back in, but had decided against it. It held too many bad memories, and all he wanted was a fresh start. He was texting Scott to let him know where he was, and he wasn't paying much attention to where he was going. 

He wasn't in the best of moods, the thought of going back to the house even just for such an errand made him nervous, so when he bumped into someone walking in the opposite direction, he barely looked up and huffed out an half-hearted, "Sorry." 

                    All she could remember was the pain.

She had absolutely no memory of who had attacked her, or why she was so stunned to not fight back. Sure she wasn't a boxer, but she was a hereditary Druid. She knew how to defend herself and her pack, and yet she was almost positive she had died.

That was until she woke up sprawled over the stump of a tree, her throat burning as if she had swallowed gasoline. Her body was tingling and she barely had enough strength to roll onto her back and try to catch her breath.

What had happened to her? How long had she been out here? Why hadn't anyone come to find her yet? Surely Kali would have realized she was gone, and if she knew her best friend she would tear apart heaven and earth to find her.

"He... Help..." even trying to speak hurt like blazes, so Julia had to army-crawl over to a bush of small berries. She rid the shrub of it's edible contents and paused for a little while longer, waiting until she felt strong enough to get up and head for the nearest road.

She wasn't really paying much attention, her head was up in the clouds trying to recall how she had ended up in the woods. She barely registered the screech of tires, managing to fling herself to the side just as a Toyota came to a halt where she had been standing not two seconds ago.

The Druid was about to curse and swear at said driver when her gaze caught the bewildered expression of the man behind the wheel. She had never seen him before in her life, and yet he was staring at her like she was his own personal ghost. 

My muse winks at yours and slips a note into your hand before leaving the room

Lydia was a girl on a mission. She strutted up to Derek—right in the middle of his own environment—with a confident swing in her hips and a mischievous look in her eyes. Her five inch pumps clicked against the floor and the sound bounced back at her off the walls.

"Hey, you—" Her voice was deceptively sweet, almost teasing, and she traced her fingers down his arm. Derek parted his lips to respond, probably about to ask what she was playing at, but her perfectly polished fingers pushed a slip of paper into his hand. One round, green eye winked and her lips were just slightly parted to make way for the giggle bubbling up in her throat. Just like that, she was gone as suddenly as she came. Large fingers worked to unfurl the tiny message in a hurry, the tips of his ears turning red.

Send me ‡ for my character's reaction to yours climbing into bed with mine.

Scott frowned and sat up a little. He'd been only half asleep when Derek climbed into his bed, and when Scott tilted his head to look at him, baffled, Derek froze. Scott was a little baffled, but it occurred to him that, with everything going on, Derek probably just needed the comfort of a pack mate -- and God knew Derek hadn't gotten around to opening up to anyone else.

        Deciding that if he could share a bed with Stiles, he could very well share one with Derek, Scott rolled his eyes and laid down again, patting the place beside him in bed. "C'mon, it's fine. Get some sleep." Scott closed his eyes, fighting a smile. After a long moment, he felt Derek lay down and settle.

It had been almost a week since Scott had seen Derek, and it was starting to worry Scott. He kept expecting to see Derek at random intervals, lurking around in the shadows or waiting around the corner to startle the shit out of everyone. Every time they had a pack meeting, Scott half expected Derek to show up -- Scott considered Derek his pack mate, after all, especially after they had teamed up to beat Deucalion, and especially now that Scott was an Alpha and could fight and protect on his own terms. But Derek never showed up.

       Scott almost thought that Derek had left, skipped town to start a new life elsewhere. Scott wouldn't have blamed him for it. He knew Derek had a lot of demons lurking behind all that snark, and even if they weren't the kind Derek could outrun, maybe he could fight them more effectively outside of Beacon Hills. But, no -- Cora was still around. She was quiet, sitting in the back of the room at every meeting, a shade of irritation, reluctance, and, though it was well concealed, loneliness, surrounding her in a constant shroud. One of the few times Scott had actually talked to her, she had confirmed that, yes, Derek was still in town -- so where had he been?

      Scott didn't intend to go and pester Derek about it -- he would  come out when he was ready, surely -- until Isaac came around one day complaining about him. Apparently, Isaac had grown sick of Derek hiding himself away and had gone to talk to him about it, but Derek had only lashed out at him. "No surprise there," Isaac had said, scoffing, but Scott knew that his feelings were hurt. Seeing no other alternative and, honestly, getting pretty worried about Derek and the situation that surrounded him, Scott decided he had to go and confront him about it.

      So here he was, outside Derek's loft. It was locked up, but Derek had given him a spare key, with a mutter of "Just in case" and "Don't let Stiles copy it." Normally Scott would never abuse that power, but when he gained no response with a knock, Scott felt like he had no other choice but to unlock the door and let himself in.

{Huh? Derek Hale? Socializing?} 

"Well, if it isn’t big wolf on campus. Don’t you have some ignoring my incredibly sound advice to do? Because it may just be me, but I don’t recall ever coming to you with something 'real'.” 

{She makes finger quotes around the word “real”, as used in the phrase real mature. Something she isn’t exactly being. Sorry not sorry.}