THE CONFIRMATION THAT THE
deadpool was officially over came in the form of a text message to our group chat. It was sent by Scott followed by a message that he, Kira, Derek, Braeden and Chris Argent had just fought off an army of assassins with the remaining werewolf pack in Beacon Hills that was ran by a woman called Satomi.

Lydia followed with a message that stated she was still at the Sheriff's station with Meredith but that she was almost finished there and had something to tell all of us. We decided upon a mutual meeting spot of the animal clinic and I had left Malia with no choice but to get in the car with Stiles and I, stating we were on our way to pick her up. She still hadn't made up with Stiles or any of our friends and I wasn't going to be the one to tell her when she had to either. If she wanted to hold a grudge forever then so be it, but Stiles was more than prepared to face her when she came out to get in the Jeep.

He worded his apology perfectly, making even me see why he had decided to keep such a big secret from her. It came from a place of friendship and care and Malia saw that after some heavy convincing and by the time we were pulling up to the animal clinic we were all back on good terms with one another.

Stiles, Malia and I were the last to arrive and when we walked into the back room of the clinic I was surprised to see we all fit back here. We all shared our greetings and I formally forgave Scott, Lydia and Kira for keeping the secret of Malia being being my sister from me and she, too, forgave them.

We all gathered around the table in the animal clinic, waiting to hear the story. Stiles stood behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist and I leaned back into his chest while we waited but before anyone could even think to begin, I looked at Lydia with a sympathetic smile on my face, "Sorry for destroying the wall."

Stiles nodded, "And Alex shattered that bottle of wine all over the kitchen floor."

Lydia looked at us with exhaustion in her eyes and waved us off with a tired smile, "It's okay." She said with a sigh before adding, "It was for a good cause, you stopped the deadpool."

I felt Stiles's arms tighten around me slightly. I glanced upward at him, seeing relief in his eyes and he met my gaze fleetingly while saying, "Alex did. She was the one that figured it out."

A blush crept onto my cheeks that I couldn't contain and knowing all my friends could see it made it even worse. I tried to hide my face but there was no where to go. I ended up smiling bashfully and saying to Stiles, "I couldn't of done it without you."

There was a soft silence in the clinic as Stiles and I shared our moment. The both of us looked back to our friends after a few seconds, very self-aware that we were being watched, but everyone was looking at us with smiles—glad to see that we had made up.

I glanced around the room before I frowned and looked at Scott, "Where's Liam?"

My friend grimaced and said, "I texted him... he ignored me. I think after last night he's pretty freaked out."

I pressed my lips together, guilt racking through me even though I wasn't to blame for anything. I made a mental note to check up on him after this.

Stiles pushed the conversation onward quickly, looking at Lydia, "So Meredith didn't commit suicide?"

Lydia released a heavy breath as she shook her head. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she glanced between us all, exhaustion shining in her eyes and making them heavy. She looked like she was in desperate need of a hot meal and a decent nights sleep.... In fact, we all did.

"She faked her own death." Lydia responded.

"I don't understand why." I voiced aloud.

My friend shrugged and suggested, "Maybe it made it easier to get Brunski to do her dirty work if she was supposedly dead?"

"So it was her?" Stiles asked, "She is the Benefactor."

Lydia nodded and a thick silence settled over us. I scratched my eyebrow, trying to think it through and failing massively. The truth was, I had no idea what her motive was. Nor did I know why she did it or how she funded it. Though I had a feeling I was about to find out.

Lydia took a deep breath and released it before saying, "Meredith Walker made the deadpool on the back of an idea she heard whilst she was in a coma after my grandmother nearly killed her."

"How did she hear an idea if she was in a coma?" Kira asked the question we were all thinking.

Lydia pulled a face that told us she didn't quite know herself and she said, "Because she's a banshee... I'm not exactly sure of it myself."

"What was the idea?" Derek asked curiously, speaking for the first time since I had arrived. He was leaning casually against a table backed against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest with his leather jacket on.

"To kill all the supernatural in Beacon Hills and start again," Lydia explained, "a stronger pack of mixed supernatural creatures, all loyal to one Alpha. It gave Meredith the idea to create the deadpool, to expel us essentially and start fresh."

"Whose initial idea was it?" I found myself asking.

Lydia looked at me but I didn't expect to see apology in her eyes. Nor did I expect to feel guilt emitting from her chemo signals. It made me uneasy and her silence did nothing to help. The way she was looking at me was the way you looked at someone when you gave them bad news, I should know, I recognised the expression.  But why was she giving me bad news? Why was she just looking at me this way and no one else in the room?

It made me feel sick.

Stiles squeezed my shoulder, recognising the look in our friend's eyes and he said, "Lydia?"

"Alex, I'm so sorry." Lydia breathed.

I felt my knees wobble and she hadn't even delivered the blow yet. My heart started thrashing against my chest in a mixture of fear and anticipation. A knot formed in my throat that I couldn't get rid of, not even clearing my throat worked, and my voice came out shaky as I said, "Why, Lydia?"

"It was Peter," she said, "it was his idea. He's the one Meredith heard."

My knees buckled under my weight and Stiles caught me with ease. The weight of her revelation hit me hard and for a minute the world just stopped moving entirely. A strange sense of betrayal coursed through my veins and I couldn't quite figure out why. It was no secret Peter and I's relationship was exceptionally strained but I knew he still cared for me as much as I sometimes like to pretend that he didn't.

I was still that child he loved and cared for all those years ago. I was that little girl who he rescued from a burning building when he could've saved himself and left me there to burn. He still ran back into that building to try and save my mother, putting himself in a coma for years.

So why did it hurt so much that he was responsible for the formation of the deadpool?

"So Peter created the list and made his own daughter the number one target?" Stiles said with such anger. I'd never heard his tone so clipped before. The emotion rolled off him in intoxicating waves... pure fury.

Lydia shook her head, "Peter never gave the names, he just had the idea of a deadpool and that he would fund it with the barer bonds." Our friend explained, "It was Meredith who did everything else. She used Brunski to create the tapes and tricked Kate Agent into opening the vault so he could retrieve the barer bonds to facilitate the payments."

I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes and took a deep, deep, breath trying to make sense of what she was saying, "Let's just rewind for a second," I said, hopeful it would help me make more sense of this if I said it out loud, "Meredith got Brunski to trick Kate into opening the Hale vault which, in turn, was the reason why Kate ambushed the Calaveras that day they broke into the Loft when Derek and I were there?"

"Yes." Lydia replied.

I dragged my hands across my face and finally opened my eyes, taking another moment to think it all through before I continued, "Kate took Derek and preformed some ancient Aztec shit to regress him back to when he trusted her to get him to open the vault so she could get the Triskelion thinking it would help her with controlling the shift, only for Brunski to then break into the safe and steal the barer bonds. Is that right... am I right?"

Lydia nodded, "Yes." She said softly.

Rage ripped through me and knocked me completely sideways for a moment. All that... just for some money to facilitate this scheme. All the collateral damage, the fear.. the days spent running around Mexico looking for Derek. I didn't even know where to put myself. I didn't...couldn't, "I need to sit down." I breathed, feeling my legs start to wobble again.

Scott dragged a chair over to me and held it as Stiles helped me sit down, his and Scott's hands holding my back and my arms before I collapsed. Everything was starting to click. The story was finally coming together... but the revelation was just too much this time.

"Why now?" Kira asked, taking us all by surprise until she elaborated, "Meredith heard this idea years ago, right? Why did she wait so long to act?"

Pain tore through Lydia's eyes as she said, "She heard me the night Allison died... when I..."

"When you predicted her death." Stiles said quietly.

The Nogitsune took her from the McCall house, using her to know if it would be his death she would predict. At first I thought it was Stiles's death because while the Nogitsune still lived, he started to die. None of us expected it to be Allison who was the one who would actually die so when she did it rocked us all massively.

It was a cataclysmic event that kickstarted all of this and ultimately led us to this very moment. That concept of the butterfly effect coming back around again. It was all our lives seemed to be focused around lately. How one misstep, one decision could lead to such events and each and every time it always came back to the same question.

What if Stiles never did drag Scott out into the woods that night?

I guess we would never find out.

______________

The deadpool had been over for almost a week and yet I still couldn't move on and neither could Stiles. We were both still fixated on why I had been worth so much though neither of us actually told the other. I had wanted to find a time to talk to Meredith but that wasn't an option and it had been frustrating. I needed to know what made me different—if anything—and Meredith had been the one to create the list and decide on the worth of us. What did she know that I didn't?

It was late on a Friday night when I'd received a text from Deaton of all people. Stiles was with Scott playing video games at his house for the first time in years and I hadn't wanted to bother them. I had been planning a night to myself but Deaton's text changed my whole evening.

274 Bellvont Road..
I might know a way to figure
out your worth on the deadpool

That was all he had sent me. At first I thought he'd sent it to me by mistake. I had intentions of just ignoring it but then I was curious. I had never spoke with Deaton over the phone before. He would've had to search for my name and contact information. Then, while I had been contemplating it, a second text came through.

Come alone. Don't tell anyone.

I had been the only one in the house anyway and... I trusted Deaton. Whatever this was I didn't think it was any kind of trap. I changed into black jeans, a white long sleeved tee and my black leather jacket before firing a text off to Stiles that I was spending time with Lydia. I'd tell him about it tomorrow if it were anything of interest. If I told him where I was going he'd only want to come.

The address Deaton gave me brought me to an industrial estate out of town. It looked abandoned and the units were all dark. There was only one car parked outside and as I slowed to a stop I saw Deaton leaning against the drivers side door of the car, seemingly waiting for me. I slowed to a stop beside his car, turned the engine off and got out. Meeting his gaze I said, "What's all this?"

Deaton regarded me with his usual closed mouth smile and said in way of greeting, "I need a favour of you first."

Hesitant, I inhaled and said slowly, "Right," after a moments pause, I added, "what sort of favour?"

He shifted and under the single street lamp not far from us I saw him holding something in his hand. My eyes flickered down to it and it elongated, turning into a very familiar weapon the Argents used to hold in their arsenal.

I looked back up at Deaton and dared ask, "Why do you have a taser rod?"

Deaton jerked his head toward the warehouse we were standing in front of, "Because what's in there isn't friendly."

It all fell into place hearing him say that. I released a short sigh, glancing fleetingly to the ground before I met his gaze again and held up my hand for him to see, "So the favour you need isn't really from me, rather these?" On queue my claws elongated, the sound of them snapping out cutting through the silence between us.

Denton gave me a pressed smile and said, "I'm hoping it doesn't come to that." I hummed in response as he added, "This way."

Silently we slipped into the empty unit in the middle of this seemingly empty industrial estate and I followed Deaton's lead, listening to everything my senses were telling me. There wasn't a single doubt in my mind that he was leading me anywhere that would jeopardise me but I was curious as to why he'd asked me to come alone and not tell anyone. If he hadn't of saved my life on more than one occasion I'd of thought he was planning on leading me into some kind of trap.

Luckily, I trusted the man.

Deaton led us forward through a thick metal door that I wrenched open. I looked down a staircase that looked like it lead to the abyss but a single overhead light somewhere on the narrow corridor at the bottom of the staircase gave the smallest scrap of light. Cold air lingered around my ankles and curled up my legs, encasing me in invisible bonds and then the smell hit me.

I staggered back retching as my hand flew to my mouth. Tears pricked my eyes, blurring my vision, but there was no way to rid myself of the smell. It had burnt my nostrils and infused itself there. I don't think I would ever smell anything but it ever again.

"Oh—" I bent over, emptying my dinner out on to the ground in front of me. Just when I thought I was done, my stomach twisted and I vomited again, tears rolling down my face. For a brief moment I remained bent over, my hands on my thighs as I rubbed the back of my mouth with the sleeve of my jacket, "Fuck," I cursed, my voice coming out in a rasp, "that smells like—"

"Dead bodies?" Deaton said over me. I lifted my head to see him grimacing in front of me, "I'm sorry, I should've warned you about that."

"Where the hell are we going?" I pried, straightening up again.

"To catch a wendigo."

My jaw almost hit the floor, "I'm sorry?"

He opened his mouth to respond but a terror-filled, muffled, scream floated up the narrow stairs to us. I knew by the look of concern flashing through Deaton's eyes that I didn't have to be supernatural to hear it. The fear behind it hit me like a punch to the gut and alarm flared through my body, setting my heart away in a frenzied beat. My eyes slid slowly to meet Deaton's and I was sure my facial expression mirrored his.

At the same time, the two of us rushed down the dimly lit stairs, not bothering to pause and think about what danger lurked ahead. All that mattered in my mind was that someone was in trouble and they were afraid. Every step down the dark and narrow corridor brought me closer to the fear spiking through the warehouse, to the erratic pounding of that person's heart.

I followed behind Deaton as we ran. A male voice grew louder but so did the muffled screams. We ran into some sort of meat locker where the stench of dead bodies was at its worst. I tried not to let it consume me, tried to think of anything but that and the hanging carcasses wrapped in bags. Along the walls an assortment of butchers knives sat hanging and on the ground, not ten feet away from us was a man curled over a girl who couldn't be much older than me, her hands taped together over her chest and the bottom half of her body zipped in a large body bag.

She was sobbing, absolutely petrified, and I merely stood there frozen in shock as the man growled at her. It was a sound I'd never heard before, a lot more sinister than a werewolf, and it sent shivers skittering down my spine.

The sobbing stopped and a brief silence seeped across the room. I peered over Deaton's shoulder to meet the girls gaze as she looked at Deaton and I. Her makeup was smeared all over her face, black mascara running under her eyes. My breath hitched in my throat when I looked at her and felt her fear.

But the wendigo stood to his full height, looking at Deaton and I. He growled at us, salvia flying from his razor sharp teeth, furious that we'd just interrupted his meal time. He pounced at us, or rather at Deaton, but before I took it as my queue to jump in Deaton hit him head on with the taser rod he had been carrying.

I jumped out of the way, watching Deaton fight the wendigo with skill and precision before I remembered the girl on the ground. I tuned their fight out and rushed over to her, getting to my knees beside her. Fresh tears stained her cheeks as she met my gaze and I grabbed the side of the duct tape and ripped it free from her mouth.

She sobbed loudly, uncontrollably, as I slipped my claw through the tape around her wrists without her even realising. I tried to comfort her, shushing her gently and telling her it would be okay, as I did so but nothing worked. She was beyond hysterical at that point.

Metal clanked against the ground and I turned my head to see Deaton had the wendigo on his knees, arms raised in surrender and he looked at him and said, "Wait, stop! The deadpool's over, you're not going to get paid. It's over!"

My brows furrowed lightly as I watched them both, he thought we were assassins?

"I'm not here to kill you, Patrick," Deaton said to him, "I'm taking you back to Eichen House. Where they know all about your culinary practices."

He growled again but before he could even move a muscle Deaton hit him with the taser rod, knocking him out stone cold. The thud of his body echoed over the space in the room and Deaton turned back to look at me and the girl before offering her a reassuring smile.

A half hour later I was pulling into Eichen House behind him having taken that poor girl home. Part of me felt awful for leaving her in such a vulnerable state but Deaton's promise of finding out my worth on the deadpool and the mention of Eichen House had me itching for answers.

We were met at the gate by two Orderlies with a stretcher. Deaton popped the trunk on his car and together, the two Orderlies scooped the unconscious wendigo out the trunk and put him on to the trolly, strapping him in with leather bindings. A man in a white coat joined us and he greeted Deaton like an old friend, shaking his hand with a smile on his face. I stood in silence the entire time, watching them converse before the doctor invited us to follow him inside.

I eyed the building with distaste, wishing I was anywhere but here but followed Deaton and his friend nevertheless. We entered through the main doorway but headed for the elevator, riding down to the very bottom floor that needed a code for access. The air in the metal cage was thick and it wasn't until the doors opened did I breathe again but the second I stepped out on to the floor I felt the shift in the air.

It was almost overwhelming. My senses didn't know how to respond but every hair on the back of my neck rose in warning. I had never once sensed supernatural creatures here when I'd come that one time the night we checked Stiles in but now I could sense more than I ever had before.

I glanced at Deaton as we followed his friend down the corridor and said quietly, "This is where they're keeping Meredith?"

Deaton merely glanced at me and said, "We're not here to see Meredith Walker, Alex."

My brows furrowed in response but before I could say anything else, his friend glanced back at us as we walked behind him and said, "While I'm relieved to have Patrick back in our care, I still need to advise you against doing this, Alan."

I glanced to the left as we passed an open cell. A seemingly normal man looked back at me though his eyes were pure white, no irises to be seen. I looked away from him quickly as a chill crept up my spine and forced myself to keep walking. If I could sense these people were supernatural would they be able to sense the same of me?

"There's a reason this floor isn't listed on the brochure." The doctor said.

My heart pounded in my chest in fear. A pair of long talon-like claws curled around the bars of the cell we passed. What if this doctor somehow found out I was like these people he kept here and tried to put me in a cage alongside them? How would I ever escape...

"I came through on my end of our bargain, now it's your turn," Deaton responded, "all I want to do is talk to him." 

We slowed to a stop outside a closed door and I glanced between the two men trying to remain as inconspicuous as I could. Whoever this 'him' was, I wanted to talk to him too. If he could somehow know why I had been worth so much I wanted the answers.

"The last person that went to see Valak left the room, but not the building, and all they did was talk." The doctor warned.

I cursed inwardly, having the sense to keep it to myself. I didn't need this man to know how scared I was. A lifetime in this prison was a death sentence. What the hell was Deaton getting us into and more importantly, who was this mysterious man we were going to see?

"I'll keep that in mind." Deaton replied casually before he looked to me with an encouraging smile and said, "Shall we?"

I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat and nodded silently, not trusting my voice. Deaton opened the door for us and went in first, much to my relief, and I closed it behind us. When silence followed the tension in my shoulders eased somewhat. At least we weren't getting locked in.

We walked into a room separated by thick glass panels. On the other side of the glass panels was a simple... room? I wasn't sure if you could call it that. It was more like a cell. There was a singular overhead light on just above the bed and the silhouette of a man sat there.

Deaton and I stopped and stood for a moment, meeting each other's gaze. He hadn't given me any instructions to remain quiet, to not speak. I was free to talk to whoever this man was, the question was... did I want to?

"Dr. Valack?" Deaton said.

"You must be important." The man replied, his voice chirpy, "They don't usually let people get this close." He said, before adding, "They let me read. Unfortunately, all I get are these trashy romance novels. I've read this one seven times." I watched him toss the book into a pile on the floor I hadn't noticed until just now.

"I was hoping we could talk. My name is Dr. Alan Deaton."

Silence seeped through the room, thick and long, until the man eventually stood from his seat on the edge of the bed and walked toward the glass separating us. I got a glimpse of his face under the light and frowned lightly. He looked like a completely normal person aside from the bandage wrapped around his forehead.

"Oh, I know your specialty, Dr. Deaton... and I know it's not cats and dogs." He replied.

The closer I looked, the more I examined him, I saw an old blood stain on the centre of his bandage. Perhaps that was why he was locked in here like a crazed animal. Either way, I didn't want to comment on it, nor did I want to make it look like I was staring at it.

"Dr. Valak, this is Alexandra Hale." Deaton introduced me by my full name, gesturing to me as I stood beside him.

Valak turned his attention to me and smiled and it took everything inside of me not to shrink away in fear. Instead, I lifted my chin and held his gaze as he examined me with that chilling smile.

"Yes, I've heard of you Alexandra. The half-breed born to a human and a werewolf, living under the roof of a hunter for almost seventeen years."

I took a calming breath and said, "It's Alex." Valak rose his brows in question until I responded, "My name is Alex, not Alexandra. Not even my mother called me that."

Valak's smile never changed. He merely nodded, "I presume you've come to ask me if I know why you were worth so much on the deadpool?"

I kept my face neutral. I had no idea how this man knew so much about me and I didn't want to think about it either. Araya Calevera knew all about me, said I was famous in the world of hunting. This man didn't strike me as a hunter but Deaton had called him Dr. Valak. Obviously somewhere along the way he had been some kind of doctor but what had happened in his life for him to wind up in Eichen House on a secret floor that seemed dedicated to supernatural creatures was beyond me.

That, and I realised I actually didn't care to find out, either.

With a stoic face, I crossed my arms over my chest and said, "It would be nice."

Valak's eyes dropped to my boots and he looked at me from the bottom to the top, lingering on my face. I couldn't read the expression on his face, nor did I even want to try and decipher it.

"Tell me," Valak mused and I clenched my teeth, knowing it was too good to be true. Of course he wanted something in exchange.

"What?" I grit out, trying to remain composed.

Valak smiled, "How did it feel to kill the creature that invaded your boyfriends body?"

Air stormed out of my lungs and I staggered back a singular step. White noise echoed in my ears, not loud enough to dull out everything else, but enough to lull me into silence. I managed to stutter out a strangled, "H-how?" Looking at Valak in complete and utter disbelief.

"The walls talk, Miss. Hale." Valak responded, gesturing to the bricks around him, "Just because I am imprisoned in this cell does not mean I do not know what goes on outside these walls."

I shook my head, trying to clear my shock and my head. I didn't want to know how he knew. Meredith had Brunski wrapped around her fingers, it wouldn't surprise me if Valak had an Orderly feeding him outside knowledge also.

"So tell me," he implored again, "and I'll tell you what I know about your worth on the deadpool."

I glanced at Deaton for any advice he could give me. The night we expelled the Nogitsune still haunted me regularly in the form of vivid flashbacks and all-too real nightmares. It was a night I could never escape, no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't ever forget the power that surged through my veins knowing I'd finally one-upped the Nogitsune. I still saw the shock in his eyes when he realised it was me delivering that killing blow and I hated how it filled me with sheer satisfaction every single time.

Deaton's face was carefully blank but he inclined his head once in a small nod. The unofficial durid to our pack had spoken, giving me his advice.

I looked back to Valak again and swallowed, "It was—" I cleared my throat as my voice trailed off. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, exhaling as I said, "it was empowering."

When I opened my eyes again and looked at Valak he was already watching me with slick amusement on his face, satisfaction in his eyes. He hummed to himself, nodded and said quietly, "Yes... you are the one."

I furrowed my brows, "Say that again?" I challenged him. What the hell was he talking about?

His grin broadened, frustrating me even further. He changed the subject instead of giving me the answer I demanded of him and said, "Your father had you injected with the strongest, rarest, form of wolfsbane for almost seven years. He suppressed the werewolf gene before it began to progress... that's something no one has ever been able to do."   

"What are you trying to say?" Deaton asked, speaking for the first time since he introduced me to Valak.

The man standing behind the glass partition glanced to Deaton for a fleeting second before he turned his focus back to me, "Either you were born with an altered gene chemistry, Miss. Hale, or years of having the werewolf gene subdued has changed it manually. Regardless of which, you are a very rare, very special, kind of supernatural creature."

I shook my head and said tightly, "I'm a werewolf, there's nothing else to it."

"You're a strong werewolf." He corrected me, "One whose genetic program can be altered with wolfsbane," he shrugged, "what's to say it can't then be altered with something else?"

"I'm not some science experiment." I snarled.

"Perhaps not." Valak said, amusement still thick in his words, "But whether you like it or not, you are not an average werewolf, Alexandra."

____________

A/N; Hopefully that's given you a bit of an insight into Alex's worth on the deadpool. There's also a hint in there somewhere...