UNSPOKEN DESTRUCTION

​"Hey, Dad."
​
Stiles Stilinski stood in front of his father, the two of them delving into a thick silence only moments after they made eye contact. Sheriff Stilinski instantly wondered how the others had done it – stood directly in front of a person that had meant so much to them and felt so little for him – wondered how Carter and Scott had done it. He wondered how the two of them had fought through watching someone they loved being twisted and turned into someone unrecognizable. The teenage boy was so much more than just another victim to a violent crime. This was his son. This was the boy that he had watched grow up, make mistakes, fall in love. He was not a monster – not a murderer. He was Stiles.
​
Not even thirty seconds after the Sheriff walked through the doors into Derek's loft, Carter was taking a step forward to go inside as well. Her mind was racing with all of the possibilities of what the Nogitsune could do to the man and knew very well that she would not forgive herself if anything happened to him. But that would not even begin to touch the amount of guilt that Stiles would face if they saved him. She saw it in his eyes at Eichen House, could see it in the way his jaw clenched every time he looked at her, and she could smell the raging guilt radiating off him.
​
Before she could even turn the corner, a hand firmly grabbed her bicep, locking her in her place while her converse squeaked on the cement floor. Immediately, the brunette whirled around to narrow her eyes on whoever had stopped her and found that her glare had been directed toward her brother. Derek's jaw was set firmly, using his werewolf strength to let her know that he wasn't messing around when it came to her safety. There had been an exchange between the siblings that hadn't gone unnoticed by Chris and Allison, the Argents' brows furrowed slightly at the silent conversation that the two seemed to be having; it was as though Carter and Derek had developed their own secret language in the tranquility of looking at one another. To be that bonded to someone, and to know their intentions before they even thought about playing them out.
​
Something had been shattered all those years ago between them, and the relationship that they had before that night had been shredded to a bitter ending. It could have been because Derek had become so blindsided by keeping her safe that he almost got her, Laura, and himself killed. It could have been because Carter had to grow up at such a young age, and every protective instinct that the man had inside of him that screamed to protect her had ended up just pushing her further away. Maybe it was because Scott and Stiles had filled the hole in her heart that Derek had spent years trying to do himself. Maybe it was just that Carter Hale was just destined to be damned into damnation.
​
Carter broke the intense glare that she had been burning Derek's cloudy gray eyes with, her teeth grounding against each other for a moment before she reluctantly nodded. The Beta cautiously removed the hold that he had on her arm, shifting away slightly to give her a little space. Despite the loss of connection and the gaining interest of disloyalty, they were still family. They looked after one another just as Chris and Allison did to each other.
​
When they had finally focused themselves back on the conversation happening between Stiles and Sheriff Stilinski, all four of them had tensed shoulders when they heard the next four words leaving the man's lips: "You're not my son."
​
And just like that, all hell had froze over when four figures turned around the corner and entered the loft. Allison and Chris had stepping in first, the father and daughter barely sparing a glance toward the criminal at large as they positioned themselves beside Sheriff Stilinski. However, the hunters weren't the interesting sight that the Nogitsune trained his eyes on. The attention fell on the teenage girl that had followed behind them alongside Derek Hale, her body stiffer and straighter than a board and her eyes colder than ice. At the sight of a being filled with so much power, the Nogitsune felt his cold heart, Stiles' heart, lurch at the sight of Carter; the dark fox thirsted for her – craved every ounce of power and pain that swirled within her glorious form.
​
Before anyone had even a moment to react to the suffocating tension, Allison directed her stun-gun at the Nogitsune and pressed the trigger. The jolts of electricity crackled throughout the loft causing Carter to swallow thickly and follow the cords with her dark eyes. She wasn't exactly surprised when the Nogitsune easily grabbed a hold of the cords in his hands, his face setting into a deep and disappointed sneer before he was snatching the cords back and slinging the entire gun across the room. They were playing a vicious game with someone who had all the cards, and they hadn't even been dealt their hand.
​
The response had quickly set everyone in motion, Carter's eyes darted over to Chris to see that his right hand was nearing toward the back of his jeans in preparation. Before she could even open her mouth to speak, a large body barreled between her and the man, a menacing growl echoing throughout the hollow room. Derek rushed toward the Nogitsune, sharp fangs bared at Stiles without a second thought of how strong his opponent truly was. In a matter of seconds, the Nogitsune had managed to grab a hold of the werewolf and slam him into the table, the disadvantage that Derek had become motivation for the Nogitsune to take a secondary action. With that came the loud bang of a hard body slamming into the support beam in the loft, Derek had been momentarily winded as he slid to the ground.
​
The sound of a gun cocking had ricocheted off every single wall that was in the place. A bitter taste – like rotten milk – found its way onto the tongues of everyone in the room, each and every single one of them fully aware of the only thing that could make that sound. Slowly, five heads turned left to see that Chris Argent had a hold of the gun that was previously hidden in the back of his jeans.

​"Argent." The voice was distant in the back of his mind, but he knew even without turning his eyes away from the Nogitsune that it was Sheriff Stilinski. It was the tone that he would use in hostile situation just like that one, use it when he needed to talk a shooter into putting his gun down. The part of Chris that had listened before had shut down, and the only thing that mattered was the hunt. "Listen to me. Don't do this."

​"Why not?" Chris asked, tightening the grip on the gun but didn't release. He knew why he was doing it – it gave him the ability to manipulate the situation, and to do exactly what he knew anyone else would do if in his shoes. He would use everything in his power to ensure that the Nogitsune didn't leave until Scott arrived. He knew why he was holding gun. "I've done it before. Werewolves, Berserkers. I can easily add a Nogitsune to the list."
​
Carter didn't know why she wasn't trembling at the expression that crossed over Stiles' face as his attention continued to flicker from the gun in Argent's hand to her dark eyes. It wasn't fear that he was pushing in her direction as she swiftly stepped in front of Chris Argent – the gun now being aimed directly at her head – it was look that had her stomach twisting in knots because he was impressed, from the days that the Nogitsune had spent crawling through each and every crevice in her mind, he was finally beginning to see the fruitful darkness that was starting to consume the brightest parts.
​
From the corner of her eye, she saw that Derek had taken a few fearful steps forward as she stood her ground; mind and body ready to take the bullet that was itching to be fired from Argent's gun. All he could think about was all of the times that he had let her down; all he could think about was the fact that the teenage girl was willing to die for someone who might not even be able to be saved.

​"You're not going to shoot my son, or Carter," Sheriff stated, pointing his own gun at Argent.

​"Well, you said it yourself, Sheriff, that's not your son."

​"Put it down."
​
It felt like Carter had been hit by a semi; her hands trembling as she stared at Argent with wide eyes, not even realizing that she had inhaled loudly as Argent hovered his finger over the trigger while she felt the atmosphere drastically change. The sole purpose of her stepping in front of the gun was so that he wouldn't pull the trigger and seek a drastic solution. While it scared the man himself to point the gun not only at Stiles but at Carter, that amount of fear did not measure to the panic that Carter felt surface in her chest when she realized that no matter who had stepped in front of him – he was going to pull the trigger on anyone until he got to the Nogitsune.

​"Argent," Carter began, moving to raise one of her hands to try and see that he needed to put the gun down. The level head that she had before when she had voluntarily placed herself in front of a weapon had just accelerated to a painstaking extent, and the teenage girl was facing the problem of needing to scream out from the sudden flare of heat. "You can't shoot him or me – you know you don't want to."

​"Dad," Stiles' voice interrupted the strenuous air. It was the first time that the Nogitsune had spoken since they walked through the door, but it wasn't the first time that the dark Kitsune had acknowledged himself as Stiles instead of who he really was. Just from the cold undertone of his voice, Carter could tell that it wasn't her Stiles. "He's going to shoot us. He's going to kill us, Carter."
​
Argent shook his head, taking on the role that no one else could. "Don't listen."

​"Put it down," Sheriff Stilinski said, his gun never wavering from its original position. "Now! Do it!"
​
The Nogitsune was growing more riled up by the second, turning to Argent with a lifted smirk. It was just sadistic enough to break the barrier between guilt and survival in the man's mind, and Chris had enough reasons in that very moment to let go of the morals everyone was trying to hold him to keep. "Pull the trigger. Come on."

​"Listen to me, you put the gun down now! Put the gun down!"
​
Allison realized that her father was actually going to consider shooting Carter and then shooting Stiles. She had known Carter long enough to see that there was a shadow in her brown eyes, she was unwilling to move an inch from her position in front of Chris – a glint of apprehension in her eyes showcasing that when the time came, she would be ready to die. "Dad."
​
Allison's eyes quickly moved over to Carter to see that the brunette had moved three steps from where she was ten seconds ago, continuing to grow closer and closer to the place where Argent's gun was. The two brunette girls met gazes for a fraction of a second, the expression that Carter had on her face unnerving enough for Allison to take her own step forward.

​"Shoot her!" the Nogitsune snarled, breaking the momentary silence that had settle upon those in the room. A thick vein in the side of his neck bulged out, the blood rushing to his face as he glared over Carter's head with a sudden rush of anger. Now, he was furious; were he and Carter truly not worthy evils in Argent's eyes to be shot down immediately? "Shoot her!"
​
Derek and Sheriff Stilinski could feel their hears plummeting further into their stomachs. "Put the gun down! Argent, you put it down!"

​"Strife." And at that very moment, the sun that had been shining through the large loft dimmed until the horizon faded into a dark hue. The three things that had been repeated in the minds of her friends for two weeks had finally come into play, eyes widening as she caught on to what the Nogitsune's motives were since the very beginning. "Stop, stop it! This is what he wants! This is exactly what he wants!"
​
Stiles turned to face Allison, his hands falling behind his back. It was in that very moment that the shouting ceased. "Not exactly. I was kind of hoping Scott would be here. But I'm glad you all have your guns out, because you're not here to kill me."

​"What do you mean?" Carter asked, turning around to face Stiles only to flinch back at their close proximity. His body was so close to hers that she could practically feel the cold beat of his heart; the fire inside her raged on in attempt to push away the cold feeling.
​
Materializing from the dark hue that the night provided, masked silhouettes began to seep into the atmosphere one by one directly in front of them. Almost immediately, the six in the room took a step back, knowing very well the threat that the Oni posed to them. "You're here to protect me."

​The loft had never been quieter that night. They failed. The Oni might not have been able to get their hands of Stiles, but it didn't take away from the fact that the dark Fox had still gotten away. They were defeated. They were torn to shreds because they were so desperate to help Stiles – but there was also the part of them that wanted to give up, too, though they would never admit it, it was still there. It lurked around at the end of the when they had to lick at their wounds with shallow hearts.
​
Derek and Carter had created a good distance between one another, something they found themselves doing more often than not. Both of them had been injured by the Oni. There was a split second in between the fight that Carter had looked behind her to see if Stiles was still there, and that had cost her a gash on her arm and impalement to her thigh. Derek had become distracted in the haze of the fight, much like her, and the Oni's sword had given him a large laceration on his shoulder.
​
Carter's head lifted from her hands at the sound of footsteps bounding into the loft. Scott McCall stood in the doorway, face contorted into one of shock. "What happened?"

​"They disappeared," Allison said, her chest heaving up and down as she tried to steady her racing heart from the heat of the fight. "They literally just vanished."

​"And so did Stiles."

→ 

​"The couch, put him on the couch."
​
Scott was panicking. While Lydia was driving throughout Beacon Hills with Aiden, she found herself unable to get to her desired destination. Her abilities as a Banshee pulling her to an abandoned parking lot to find Stiles' bloodied and unconscious body lying at the center of it – the deep and wide gash spread across the entire span of his waist and it appeared to fatal if not patched up. Carter hadended up back at the McCall residence along with Scott, Deaton, Lydia, Aiden and Melissa watching as the Beta and True Alpha carried Stiles' limp body over toward the couch.
​
The Were-Pheanix's mind was racing with all of the possibilities as to how Stiles got in that state. Had the Oni done that to him? It was a plausible option, none of them knowing what exactly happened after the Oni and the Nogitsune disappeared from the loft last night. The entire thing was driving her absolutely insane – the thoughts that raged in her head made Eichen House and five-point restraints sound like a very good idea. She just felt like there were still so many important pieces to the puzzle that they were missing.

​"Guys, this is crazy," Melissa announced, wringing her hands together nervously as she looked down toward the boy who was practically her second son. She watched him grow up; him and Scott were always attached at the hip. It pained her to see him like this. "He needs to be in the hospital."
​
Scott stepped away from his best friend, casting a look toward his mother. "Mom, remember what happened last time he went to the hospital?"
​
As Scott continued to speak with his mother, Carter tuned them out as she watched Deaton kneel down in front of Stiles, grabbing the separate halves of his shirt where it was torn. He peeled it away from the hot and sticky blood that coaxed the lower half of his abdomen. The blood, though, was no longer seeping out of the wound – whatever had caused the bleeding stop, it didn't matter, as long as the wound didn't prove to be fatal for Stiles.

​"It doesn't look like he's bleeding," Deaton said, bringing Carter's thoughts into reality. "I think he might even be healing?"
​
Aiden instinctively glanced down at the most powerful creature in the room; him and Carter shared a look as the two of them tried to decipher whether the revelation was a good or bad thing. They certainly didn't want Stiles to be injured, but in that moment, Stiles wasn't Stiles. Meaning that if they found a way to free him from the Nogitsune's hold then it would be a good thing, but if they couldn't, things could go south very quickly.
​
Finally breaking their gaze, Aiden looked back toward Stiles. "You mean, healing like we heal?"

​"That's good, right?"

​"For him, yes," Deaton assured, moving away slightly. "Us?" He looked back toward the group of five worrying faces behind him, slightly shaking his head. "I'm not so sure."
​
Aiden took a step forward, "Well, if we're not going to kill him, why aren't we at least tying him down with really big chains?"

​"I might have something more effective," Deaton announced, pulling out a small black case. Undoing the buckle at the top, he pulled out a small glass jar containing a liquid that Carter and Scott and Lydia were all too familiar with.
​
Kanima venom.
​
The vet looked between the three wolves, the teenagers all nodding in understanding before moving to Stiles' side. Scott and Aiden both grabbed a hold of his face, prying his jaw open so that Deaton could get the venom into his system the most effective way possible. Carter moved to stand behind the couch, placing her hands on either side of his head so that if he did wake up, he won't be able to put up as much of a fight as they tried to get him paralyzed and unable to harm anyone.
​
Just as the clear liquid was squirted into Stiles' mouth, Scott and Carter flinched and went jumping backward slightly when Stiles' eyes snapped open. Immediately, his expression held certain malice, the venom not quite taking its toll on him. He reached out and grabbed a hold of Aiden's neck. His grip tightened around Aiden's airways, even Aiden, a former Alpha, unable to break the grip of the Nogitsune.

​"Get him off me!" Aiden managed to choke out, struggling to get the words out as oxygen failed to fill his lungs as Stiles' hand continued to tighten its hold.
​
Carter had been rendered motionless; his manic laugh had caused something inside of her to run cold – blood turning into frozen streams in her veins. The breath in her breast stilled, too fearful of what was happening right in front of her to bother with breathing. It was as though the fiery beast within her had been crippled as the sight of its fated other to be attacking one that it was bonded to. She had known all along that what was inside of Stiles wasn't good, but something about the way it lunged itself at Aiden had caused her to finally come to terms with its evil.
​
Suddenly, the Nogitsune's hand began to tremble, his hold loosening and Aiden quickly pushing himself backward – finally breaking free of his hold. Scott moved away, his arm instinctively reaching out to block Carter, but stopped when he realized that she wasn't beside him. He glanced up and saw that she had her back pressed up against the wall, chest heaving rapidly; he could visually see her skin paling as sweat beaded across her forehead.
​
Stiles grunted, the venom beginning to coax the inner workings of his body and made his limbs feel like a billion pins and needles were pricking at his skin. He was rendered completely paralyzed, frozen to his spot on the couch as he sank back into its plushness, eyes flittering up toward Deaton. "Kanima venom," he growled. "Nice touch."
​
A low roar emitted through the room, Aiden's claw slicing through the air as his fangs protruded from his gums. That had been enough for Carter to break out of her haze, eyes snapped in his direction knowing that she wasn't exactly shocked by the situation.

​"You know how they say that twins get a feeling when the other one's in pain?" Stiles wondered aloud in a taunting manner, a smug expression plastered upon his face. The corners of his lips were fighting the urge to grin at the thought of knowing something that the rest of them didn't. "You didn't lose that talent, too, did you? Oh, I hope not. You're going to need it. Okay, I'll give you a hint – Ethan's at the school."
​
Before Aiden could say anything, Scott was already speaking: "Go."
​
Aiden's jaw was set firmly, trying to keep his temper in check before he stormed toward the front door of the McCall's family home. And that left the rest of them to simply stare at the teenage boy that had quickly become a stranger, his head lolled back as he watched Aiden slip out of the house.

​"Oh, I hope he gets there in time," Stiles said, feigning worry. "I like the twins. Short tempers. Homicidal compulsions. They're a lot more fun than you bakemono trying to save the world every day."
​
Melissa stepped forward, growing tired of his shenanigans. "Doc, you brought something to paralyze his body – you got anything for his mouth?"
​
And within a matter of seconds, the sound of duct tape being torn off the roll was heard, a long piece of the silvery adhesive strip in Deaton's hold. The Nogitsune smirked slightly, amused at the situation at hand. But quickly became enraged when Deaton finally placed the tape across his lips; making it so that he wouldn't be able to speak, the sound of his muffled screams filled the air around them. Carter grimaced at the sound, not being able to stand seeing Stiles like that. She understood that it wasn't him, but having the illusion that it was made her nauseous.
​
It pained her to see someone so close to her in such a state.
​
His screams quickly died into laughter, Deaton's gaze never wavering. The dark Kitsune didn't faze the veterinarian, but for the rest of them, it was currently taking an emotional toll. Which was why the three supernatural teens were ushered into the kitchen and away from their shell of a friend – none of them would be able to think clearly while being around him. As Deaton assisted the teenagers devise a plan in order to save Stiles, Melissa opted to stay out there and tend to his wound.

​"How much longer do you think we have?" Scott demanded, getting straight to the point as they entered the kitchen. Carter had been wondering the same thing, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the venom was washed out of his system. Even though she wasn't able to be effected by the venom, she knew that with heightened healing that it dwindled away even faster.
​
Deaton shrugged, "I wish I knew. But if we don't figure out something soon, we're going to need to find a better place to keep him. I think we're grossly underestimating the danger here. He might be paralyzed, but it still feels like he's got us right in the palm of his hand."

​"But the scroll said to change his body," Lydia announced, referring to the tiny scroll they found in Katashi's silver prosthetic finger.

​"That's if I translated it correctly," Deaton clarified, his dark eyes surveying all three supernatural creatures in front of him; each one different from the other. True Alpha; a werewolf who rose to the rank of Alpha without killing one to do it – self-determination. Banshee; the wailing woman, an omen of death who wails if someone is about to die – messenger from another world. Pheanix; a pain-sponge, receiving just as much pain and suffering from the ones closest to her – harbinger of death. "We're looking for a cure in something that might actually be nothing more than a proverb or a metaphor."

​"What if he doesn't want it?" Scott asked, finally voicing the question that had been replaying in his mind since they found the scroll. "He's never asked to be a werewolf."

​"You didn't either, and neither did I – but, I don't think he asked to be possessed either, Scott." Carter snapped, her tone cold and hard as steel. Scott was immediately taken aback by her hostile tone, watching as she clenched and unclenched her jaw, he instantly knew that something other than Stiles was weighing on her mind – could smell the raging emotions pouring out of her. "It's just – Scott, what if it saves his life?"
​
From across the table, Deaton spoke up: "What if it kills him?"

​"I've never done this before," Scott stressed.

​"No ones' asking you to."
​
Scott's eyes went wide, and in that moment, he was shocked. "What? Are you saying that you were the one that planned on turning him this entire time?"
​
Carter's teeth sunk into the smooth flesh of her cheek, blood filling her mouth as the coldness in her veins melted from the fire as she suddenly became enraged at Scott's inability to man up and make the decision of saving his best friend. "I mean, if you're not going to do it and possibly save his life then someone has to – and I don't happen to see any Alphas in the general facility other than myself."

​"Okay, guys, calm down, that is not going to last long," Deaton interjected, momentarily putting an end to the couple's out of line feuding. The argument had Lydia on edge, not liking the way Scott and Carter were both so eager to snap at one another – like the both of them were keeping a secret from the other. "Something needs to be done sooner than later."

​"I can try calling Derek again," Scott breathed out, pulling his phone out of his pocket and preparing to scroll through his "recent calls" list.

​"Maybe we should call someone else."

​"Oh, hell no."

→ 

​"He doesn't look like he would survive a slap across the face, much less the bite of a werewolf – and certainly not the bite of a Were-Pheanix." Peter Hale mused, slowly making a completely three-sixty around the couch before coming back around and facing Stiles, crouching down in front of him and locking eyes with the Nogitsune.

​"You don't think it would work?" Scott concluded, knowing that it was their only option, their salvation, the only way possible they knew how to save Stiles, and now it's being questioned whether or not it's actually possible.

​"This is more a war of the mind than the body," Peter explained, Stiles seemed completely unamused by the former Alpha's words. "There are better methods to winning this battle."
​
Deaton stepped forward, untrusting of the man beside them. "What kind of methods?"
​
Peter had been quick to flick Scott's wrist out, claws emerging from his nail beds mere inches from Stiles' face. He raised a condescending eyebrow, completely unbothered. "We're going to get into his head."
​
After delving into his explanation, which involved Carter and Scott going into Stiles' mind, the Were-Pheanix's uncle tugged Lydia off to speak. She watched as the Beta and the Banshee became engrossed in conversation, Carter was becoming increasingly curious as to what they were talking about. Curious or not, Carter encircled her hand around Scott's wrist – taking into account that she felt nothing at the skin to skin contact like she used to – and tugging him into the kitchen.

​"Scott," Carter began, her voice cracking, becoming strained as she suddenly found it hard to speak knowing that she was about to reveal to her boyfriend what had happened between her and Stiles at Eichen House. "There's something that I need to tell you, and it has to do with Stiles. I know I shouldn't have waited this long, but with everything that's been going on, I just didn't know how to tell you."

​"Car," Scott stated slowly, using her nickname against her as he tried to find a soft spot in her exterior knowing that he was about to reveal to his girlfriend something that he had been meaning to tell her for a while. "I have something to tell you too, and you know that you can tell me anything."
​
She nodded, but before she could say a single word, Deaton's voice sounded: "Hey guys, we need you both in the living room."
​
Irritation was prominent on her face, just when she had finally mustered up the courage to tell him they get interrupted. She quickly turned away, making her way toward the living room, unable to meet Scott's eyes. But before she could enter, though, Scott's fingers were reaching hers and lacing them together, squeezing tightly as he followed her along into the living room. She couldn't deny the surge of guilt that rumbled in the pit of her stomach knowing that she had cheated on someone as great and caring as Scott – but little did she know was that he had been keeping a dirty secret from her as well.

​"So, let's hear this great plan, Oh Great and  Powerful Oz," Carter deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at her uncle.

​"Scott is going to try and dig through pale and sickly Evil Stiles' mind to unearth pale and sickly Real Stiles and guide him back from the depths of his own subconscious." Peter explained. "But he's not going to do it alone."
​
And with that, Carter was being ushered to the seat on the couch beside Stiles, the teenage boy glancing over at her with a knowing glint in her eyes as Scott stood directly behind them. The True Alpha's claws were bared, Peter guiding them so that they rested upon Stiles' neck.

​"So, what do we do if we find him?"

​"You're going to have to guide him out somehow." Peter replied. Carter's body visibly stiffened when she felt the tips of Scott's claws reach the back of her neck – her mother, Talia, had the same thing to a much younger version of Carter, taking away the memories of the Nemeton. "Try to give him back control of his mind, his body."

​"Could you elaborate of the "somehow"?" Lydia demanded, her eyes trained on Carter as she watched the girl practically writhe in her seat next to Stiles. "It's not feeling very specific at the moment."
​
Peter rolled his eyes, "Improvise."

​"What if this is just another trick?" Scott finally asked.

​"When are you people going to start trusting me?" Peter questioned, his voice light as Carter raised an eyebrow as she glanced at him through the corner of her eye.

​"He meant the Nogitsune, dumbass," Carter hissed, allowing her swirling emotions to get the best of her.

​"Oh."

​"Scott, we're running out of time," Deaton announced.
​
The Alpha nodded, sucking in a deep breath as his eyes blazed their supernatural crimson while he fully prepared his mind and body to pull himself and Carter into the subconscious of Stiles Stilinski. And without a moment's notice, a loud gasp emitted throughout the room as she felt Scott's claws puncture her skin.
​
The fine line between reality and the alternate universe of thought blurred as the pain in her neck failed to compare to the feeling of death that would consume her when the sun had fallen that night.