---

Michael and Cora are still alive. Or, at the very least, they escaped the fire. 

Alex stared at her hands, breathing in slowly. They were alive. With that redheaded woman. They were alive. 

Cora was alive. 

It had been four years since her best friend had allegedly died in that fire. Four years that Alex had grieved Cora, thinking about her every single day. And this whole time, Cora was alive. Cora had escaped the fire. 

Alex sobbed, covering her mouth quickly in order to stifle it. Her shoulders trembled and she shut her eyes, trying to calm down her breathing. Cora. Alive. That was insane. 

God, how was she going to tell Derek? She had to tell him, she knew that. It was his siblings. He had to know they were alive. But that meant telling him about the visions and the hallucinations and the ghosts. That meant telling him about That. 

Alex hadn't talked about what really happened That Night since she'd been interviewed in the hospital room by the police. Her father had flown out for the weekend, he was sitting next to her and holding her hand and she was telling the police everything. 

Looking down at her phone, Alex's thumb hovered over the newest contact. 

'Derek Hale' 

He had put it in when he dropped her at the motel. He wanted her to be able to contact him. She had to tell him. God, she had to. 

Finally, she dialed. 

"Hey, I really need to talk to you." 

---

Alex opened the motel room door. Erica Reyes stood on the other side, in her hands were two cartons of ice cream and spoons. Her blonde hair was perfectly curled and she had on what seemed like ten pounds of makeup, but it was Erica. 

Alex barely recognized her friend, but she was eternally grateful to see her. "Okay, spill. Also, why the hell are you in Devonford?" Erica spoke, looking around the drabby motel room before walking up to the bed and sitting down, crossing her long legs. She wore stiletto boots that added an extra three inches to her height. "Like, Devonford, really?" 

"I needed to get away from Beacon for a little bit," Alex sighed tiredly, settling down on the bed next to Erica. "You remember those hallucinations I was telling you about?" Alex fisted the covers of the bed in her hand, trying to calm her racing pulse. She wondered if Erica could hear her heart beating its way out of her chest, but she knew that was crazy. Erica didn't have super-hearing. 

Erica rested one soothing hand on Alex's shoulder, her thumb moving in a small, comforting circle. "Yeah, did something happen? Are you okay?" Erica's voice was laced with genuine concern and it helped Alex relax. Erica was still Erica despite the complete 180 in appearance and confidence. 

The small room was lit up with sunlight from the opened shades, bathing everything in a comforting golden glow. It chased away the gross shadows that motels always seemed to have, the light seemed to fill every inch of the place. Like a balloon of sunlight had exploded on every surface. 

It was so warm. It felt safe to say the words that terrified Alex to her very core. 

"I've been seeing other things, too," Alex finally admitted, breathing slowly, "Things that I definitely shouldn't be able to see. And, if they're real then . . . then a lot of what I thought I knew is wrong." 

Erica's thumb froze in its circling and the brunette could feel the blonde's gazing boring into the side of her head. "Like what?" Was that a note of fear in Erica's voice? Alex wasn't sure, glancing sideways at the blonde but Erica had a soft, supportive look on her face and she was smiling as if trying to urge Alex to keep talking. 

"Well, I already told you about the other hallucinations. The cabin and the graveyard. I had another one yesterday. Well, last night. Except, I'm not sure it was a hallucination . . . it felt too real." Alex raked her hands through her hair, sucking in slow, deep breaths. "She felt too real." 

A single blonde curl fell off Erica's shoulder as she shifted her weight, brown eyes locking Alex in place. "Who's she?" 

The corners of Alex's eyes pricked as tears fought their way to the surface. "My - my girlfriend. My dead girlfriend. I saw my dead girlfriend. Actually, she sat right on that chair," pointing at the arm chair, the Stilinski girl pulled her knees to her chest, "and I talked to her. She told me that I'm psychic because of some gene that gets passed through the women in my family and it was passed to me by my mother. She also said that this gene gives me special abilities, like visions and the ability to see ghosts, and that it was triggered the night she died." Alex hesitated, she hadn't told Erica about That Night. She wasn't even sure if she could. "She said that I died that night, too." 

Erica was silent, but she still rubbed Alex's shoulder. "Oh, wow." 

"Yeah, I know," Alex laughed softly but tears had begun to flood down her cheeks and she broke into violent sobs. "God, I don't know what's wrong with me." In one swift motion, Erica had pulled her into a tight hug and her face was pressed into the blonde's shoulder and sheet of golden hair. "I don't know what to do, I feel like I'm going crazy." 

"Shhh," Erica murmured, gentle in her comforting. "It's okay, Alex, you're gonna be fine. You're not going crazy, we'll figure this out." 

There was a long, quiet silence as the two teenage girls sat in the motel room bathed in sunlight, holding each other and crying. 

---

Erica's POV

Erica was scared when she knocked on that door. She wasn't even really sure why, but as her fist rapped gently against the motel room door, she felt a sliver of fear shoot down her spine. She hadn't really felt fear since getting the bite from Derek. She felt confident, beautiful, powerful, but not scared. That had been the whole point. He was giving her a gift that chased off any fear. 

She loved it. She was drunk on the power of it. She loved being able to hear things from hundreds of feet away. She loved being able to smell when someone was lying, she could practically read minds just from using her senses. 

Derek was a fantastic teacher, too. Besides being extremely attractive, he actually knew what he was doing and cared about her knowing, too. She wasn't really sure what she thought of Isaac, yet, but threads of pack loyalty were beginning to be weaved between them. 

In the rush of everything after the bite, Erica had forgotten her new friend. She'd let Alex slip into the background as she adapted to this new reality. So, when Alex had called her, she'd been worried. Was Alex mad at her? Were they still friends? 

Erica didn't want to lose the friendship they had created over the past couple weeks. Alex was her first real friend in years, and Erica was grateful for that. She loved Alex's humor, her loyalty, her wit. Erica admired the brunette, but she also felt scared for her. It was clear to anyone in the Stilinski girl's life that she was going through something. Something big had happened that made her come back to Beacon Hills, and it affected her on a very core level. 

The hallucinations were a large part of that. 

Erica shifted in her stilettos, smoothing down her skinny jeans. She wasn't sure why Alex was in a motel in Devonford. She hadn't even realized Alex had left Beacon Hills, which made a shot of guilt race through her. Erica had not been a good friend, she was determined to make up for that. 

Alex opened the door and looked like a mess. Her dark hair was in a messy halo around her head, tufts stuck up all over the place. She had black circles around her eyes like she had barely slept. Her freckles looked far more faded than usual, and she was pale and skinny. Like an emaciated ghost or vampire. 

Honestly, for half a second, Erica hadn't even recognized her friend. She shifted in her boots and then held out the ice-cream and spoons she'd brought, smiling awkwardly at Alex. "Okay, spill. Also, why the hell are you in Devonford?" She glanced around the shabby motel room and Alex stepped back, letting her walk into the room. 

Alex told the story and when she was crying, Erica held her tight. The icecream sat against her thigh, cold even with the jeans separating her skin from the carton. 

"How did she die?" Erica asked softly, unsure if she was pushing Alex too far. 

The brunette sighed, fidgeting with her sweatshirt. "Um, car accident. I don't really want to talk about it. But, if she is a ghost and not just a hallucination then that means . . . that means that my last hallucination was actually a vision." 

"What was your last hallucination, Alex?" Erica whispered, that fear feeling beginning to build. 

Alex wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt and pushed her curls away from her face. She was red and blotchy from crying, it gave her a dewy complexion. Sometimes Erica felt jealous when looking at her friend, admiring how completely and utterly beautiful Alex was. Even crying, the brunette somehow looked like she'd walked off the cover of a magazine. 

"It was of the fire. The Hale fire," she clarified, as if that wasn't where Erica's mind had gone to immediately, "I saw what happened after the fire. I saw who survived." 

Erica nodded slowly, her lips pursed slightly. "Yeah, Peter, Derek's uncle is the only one who survived." 

Derek's evil uncle, the Alpha that turned Scott. Erica had heard from Derek a few things about Peter, but he avoided the topic. Peter was a cautionary tale for their pack, and that was that. All Erica really knew was that Peter was dead and Derek was the one who killed him. Peter had been a monster, and he deserved to die. 

"No, Erica. Not just Peter," Alex whispered. "I saw a woman go into the fire. A redhead. She saved Peter and Cora and Michael. She saved all three of them. Then, she took Cora and Michael into the woods." 

Erica shook her head, her eyebrows knitting together. "Cora and Michael are dead, Alex. They died in the fire. Derek would know if his siblings had survived the fire." 

Alex was silent, staring at the brown carpet floor. Erica's mind tried to put together what Alex was saying. Cora and Michael were dead, Derek was pretty certain about that. They'd been in the house, there was no way they survived. 

But, they could've. The bodies were all burnt to crisps. There were a lot of people in the Hale house that night. Maybe a good Samaritan had come and saved the kids? But why had Cora and Michael not come forward, yet? Maybe it was a werewolf that had saved them and had kept them hidden for their protection. 

The Hales were being hunted and the fire had been set by Kate Argent to kill the pack. Derek and Laura had left Beacon Hills for their own safety to hide from the Argents, couldn't someone else have done the same thing with Cora and Michael? Hidden them for their own safety? Could it be that all four of the Hale kids survived the fire? 

Alex reached over Erica and grabbed one of the cartons of ice cream and a spoon. 

"I don't want to tell Derek, yet. Not until I know if it's a hallucination or a vision." 

But, there was no way to know. How could Erica and Alex prove that it was real or not? They had to prove one of Alex's other visions as being real. If it was real, they would have to tell Alex about werewolves. 

Erica wasn't sure her friend was ready to learn that. Looking at Alex, it seemed like a gust of wind would knock her right over. Alex was too on edge these days, resembling a flighty rabbit. Even now, she was perched on the edge of the bed ready to spring up and run if anything happened. 

The room was cold and drabby and brown. Erica didn't really get why Alex had picked Devonford to spend the weekend. It was so miserable and boring. This room, in particular, was dark and dreary. Even with the shades drawn back, Erica felt like the room couldn't get nearly enough light. 

Gross motel shadows stretched out from the furniture, promising diseases, bacteria and germs from places that rarely get cleaned. Erica guessed that if the bed got pulled from the wall, there would be mountains of grossness back there. She could practically smell it. 

She grabbed the second ice cream carton and spoon, pulling her hair from her face before she began to slowly snack on it. "So, why Devonford?" 

"It was close enough to bike," Alex replied softly with a weak laugh. "I just needed a break, a couple days to just recharge. I guess that didn't work out like I hoped." 

Erica nodded and then paused as a thought came to mind. "Wait, so, according to your girlf- dead girlfri- your, uh, ghost? Um," she hesitated, unsure how to proceed with the question, "you are psychic, right? And you see ghosts. So, why don't you just try to see a ghost right now? I mean at least one person had to have died in this motel at some point, right? Also, wait, why could you see the first ghost? I thought ghosts are tied to the places they die." 

Alex frowned, as if that hadn't really occurred to her. Then, her light blue eyes lifted to the armchair in the room and she froze, staring intently at it. As if there was someone there.

The room's temperature dropped a few degrees. It suddenly got very cold and Erica shifted uncomfortably. "Alex?" 

"She's here," Alex murmured, studying the corner. "Hi, M." 

---

Alex's POV

Myra lounged across the armchair, her gray eyes glancing to Erica every once in awhile. "Hi, love."

"What're you doing here?" Alex queried, spooning some more ice cream into her mouth. "Is this about Cora and Michael?" 

Kicking one leg, Myra stretched out, crossing her long legs at the ankle over one armrest, her head resting on the other one. "Yes and no. I'm here to tell you that your visions are real, Alex. They are real, and they are important. You need to pay attention to them. People will die if you don't." 

Alex scoffed, tugging on her messy curls. "Right, coming from the ghost in my motel room. How am I supposed to believe you? You're not real." 

"We're just going in circles here, babe!" Myra threw herself out of the arm chair and paced the room. It was a familiar move, watching as she moved from the window to the door and back again, taking the exact same number of steps both ways. Her fingers weaving into her hair, tugging on the tresses of dirty blonde. "Alex, I'm sorry to do this, but I have no choice." 

"What-" 

Alex gasped as Myra rushed her and then there was a brief flash of blinding light that burned Alex's retinas and everything went dark. 

---

Erica's POV

Honestly, Erica wasn't sure what to expect when Alex gasped. 

Then, the brunette froze in place for a moment, her entire body locking up like a statue. Slowly, every so slowly, she relaxed and stretched, moving strangely, like she wasn't used to the feeling of limbs. She lifted each arm and stretched them out, examining her fingers and hands closely. 

"Alex?" Erica whispered, not sure if the ghost was still in the room or if Alex was okay. Finally, Alex turned and looked at Erica. But, her eyes were white not blue. 

"Hello, werewolf," Alex spoke in a crystal clear, thick British accent. This wasn't Alex. Erica immediately felt her hackles rise, eyes beginning to glow gold as a growl rose in her throat. "Shh, relax, I'm not hurting her. I just needed to prove a point to her that I'm real. I'm not a hallucination." 

That didn't help. 

"Listen, Erica, my name is Myra. Myra Brown. I was Alex's girlfriend for two years. I died a few weeks ago in a car accident. I am a ghost, I am dead, and I am real. Alright? Alex is a Seer and needs to know that." 

Erica just kept staring at her possessed friend. Possessed by a ghost. A ghost. Ghosts are real, great. That totally helps with everything else that Erica has had to wrap her head around. 

"Cora and Michael?" Erica finally asked, breathing slowly, trying to calm down. "Are they actually alive?" 

Alex - or, well, Myra? - shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. What Alex saw was real, that did happen. They did make it out of the fire, but I don't know if they're alive now. They're hidden from our plane by a woman named Evelyn. Telling Derek would just upset him, this is one secret you must keep from your Alpha, werewolf. You mustn't tell Derek until after the Worm Moon has passed." 

"The Worm Moon?" 

But Alex had bent over coughing, her eyes shut and arms wrapped tightly around her torso. Every cough shook her entire body like a leaf, rattling her organs against her bones. 

"Erica? What - what happened?" Alex whispered, looking around the little room. The temperature had returned to normal and Erica guessed that Myra was gone. The ice cream had melted. "I blacked out, did something happen?" 

The blonde nodded, sighing as she contemplated the past couple of minutes. "Myra is real. Your visions are real, Alex. You're a psychic. She called you a 'Seer'. That's what you are." 

Alex just stared at Erica who shrugged. 

"You're a Seer, Alex." 

---

Alex's POV

It was Sunday. 

Alex sat outside the motel with her bike and her backpack. It was Sunday night and she had spent most of the day watching movies on the crappy TV. She'd figured out a way to change the channel using the buttons on the TV, and ended up just browsing through different channels, watching bad action movies. 

Erica had left the night before. She had promised to help Alex get to the bottom of whatever the hell was going on. She'd told Alex what had happened during her black-out, what Myra had said. She told her that Derek couldn't find out about the vision until after the Worm Moon, whatever that meant. Alex wasn't fully sure, but it had seemed like Erica was hiding something from her. She had seemed a little dodgy when Alex had pushed about the Worm Moon. The blonde had just told the Stilinski girl to google it before changing the subject.  

There was another world besides Alex's own. A world that co-existed with the humans' and they had no idea. Psychics were real. Seers were real. Ghosts were real. There was a second plane of existence layered over the first one that held the dead. 

Alex had spent a lot of the day talking to Myra. She explained it as such: there were multiple levels of life, and they all sat on top of each other. They all existed at the same time, operating together but they couldn't see each other. Occasionally, there were tears in the different 'planes' - as Myra called them - and one could see into the other layer. But those were very rare. More often than that, though, was that different individuals from a specific family line were given the gift of seeing between layers, seeing the whole picture. These individuals were called Seers. 

Alex was a Seer. 

Myra had said there was a lot more to the world than Alex knew. That the death plane was not the only one layered over the 'mortal plane' - the one with the people - and that with time Alex would be able to see all of the different planes. 

In the present moment, Alex waited for Derek to show up. She'd checked out of the room and now sat on the curb outside, phone in hand. Her gut was in knots at the idea of getting back in a car. But, she'd been able to do it just a couple nights earlier. She was pretty certain she could do it again, no matter how terrifying. 

The black Camaro rolled to a stop in-front of her and Derek slid out. "How was your weekend?" He asked as he rounded the car. Alex pushed herself to a stand and wiped off her sweatpants before helping him miraculously shove the bike in the backseat. "Achieved your goal of rest and relaxation?" 

Alex wasn't sure if he could tell how stressful her weekend was and if the question was to be ironic or not. But, whether or not it was ironic, she still sighed and forced a smile. "Yep, super relaxing and restful." 

Derek's head tilted as he opened the passenger door for her, grabbing the t-shirt from the seat to be used as a blindfold again. "That sounds convincing. Did something happen?" 

She closed her eyes and felt his hands on the back of her head as he tied the shirt. He was so close his smell wrapped around her like a giant hug. He smelled strongly of coffee, leather and mint this evening. It was masculine and sexy and attractive and nearly enough to make her forget the car she was slowly settling down into with the help of Derek's hand on her back. 

"No, nothing happened," she lied and smiled up at him. He was quiet, helping her into her seatbelt and then closed the door. When he settled into his side, he didn't start the car immediately and only sat there. 

Her stomach was in knots as they sat quietly in the vehicle. She rubbed her hands on her knees and felt them slide with sweat. God, the sides of the car felt like a vice slowly moving in to choke her. Even without the ability to see, she could feel the drums of fear within her getting louder. 

Just a train. A train. A really tight train seat. A train. A train! Train. Train. Train. She was just in a train. Absolutely, just a train. 

"Alex, what happened?" Derek finally pushed and she pursed her mouth, both to not speak and to not vomit from the rising tidal wave of fear and panic. She could not have a panic attack in-front of Derek Hale. She could not have a panic attack in this car. 

In this car. 

She was in a car. 

She was in a fucking car. 

"Alex?" Derek reached across the seat, his hand grabbing hers. She felt his fingers slide into the spaces between hers, their palms pressing together. She could feel how warm his hand was, the rough calluses on his palm, the firmness of his grip. He held her steady, his hand an anchor during a storm. 

She breathed deeply, counting by threes silently in her head. "Sorry, sorry," she whispered. "I really don't like cars." 

Derek was quiet and they sat there in silence before he slowly pulled his hand from hers. "Alex, did something happen this weekend?" 

God, had something happened this weekend? Had it not been one of the strangest weekends of her life? 

She was a fucking psychic. A Seer who sees ghosts and has visions. 

Alex wasn't even sure how to label that. "No," she finally lied again. She brought her thumb to her lips and began chewing on her thumb nail, eyes shut behind the blindfold. "Can we please just leave?" 

Train. Train. 

She forced the thoughts, eyes shut as the car rumbled to life. Not car. Train. A train. A super compact train. 

Derek grabbed her hand. 

His palm was rough against hers. She could feel every line of his hand against hers. His thumb brushed over the back of her hand, rubbing a small comforting circle. She poured all of her attention on his hand. On how it held hers, how it rested on the center console, how firm it was, how muscular, how strong his grip was. 

It seemed like only a couple of minutes passed before they were stopping outside her house. Before Derek was opening her door and helping her out, pulling off the blindfold. 

As they stood outside her house, which was dark and quiet, Derek cupped her face in his hands. She peered up at him from under long lashes, unsure what he was doing or how she had possibly gotten into this situation. 

"Listen to me, Alex. No more running off in the middle of the night, it's not safe. If you need a break, you call me and I will pick you up. Do you understand?"

His voice was still so cold. So callous and hard and lacking any emotion. But, she could see it in his eyes. He cared about her safety. He cared about her well-being. Somehow, someway, Alex was worming her way into Derek's heart. 

"Okay." She nodded and he dropped his hands, stepping back from her. Her bike rested on the grass and she pulled it up, wheeling it to the garage. "Thank you, Derek. Good-night." 

He pressed his lips together and then turned, getting into the car and driving off before she could even get in the house. 

After putting the bike away, Alex let herself into the house. She kicked off her shoes next to the door and turned on all the lights. 

Nobody was home. 

Alex meandered over to the kitchen and made herself a bowl of cereal, studying the empty house. Photos lined the fireplace, photos of their family, of her mother, of their grandparents and different life events. 

This didn't feel like a home, anymore. Not without her mother. Alex barely felt like a Stilinski, anymore, either.