"𝒾'𝓂 𝑔ℯ𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ℴ𝓁𝒹ℯ𝓇, 𝒾 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒾'𝓂 𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁"

The drive back to California was long. Well, it was made longer because every single teenager in the Jeep was thinking about how the hell Derek Hale had been aged backwards. As soon as they return to Beacon Hills, Kira and Malia are dropped off to their respective houses and the remaining group of four head straight to the animal clinic. If anyone's going to know something about their current dilemma, it's Deaton. Ophelia's seen a lot throughout her life: resurrections, massacres, dozens of psychopaths, torture... and now possibly time travel. She has no idea, not even the slightest, where to start. However, when they burst into the clinic and she sees Alan Deaton's incredulous expression for a short second, she quickly realises that he also doesn't know what to do.

Swiping the examination table clean, Deaton helps them lay the unconscious boy onto it. When Derek is settled, the veterinarian takes a step back to properly study him. "Wow..."

"Wow?" Stiles raises a brow at the single word comment. "Wow as in, 'I've seen this before and I know exactly what to do,' kind of wow? 'Cause that's the kind of wow we were hoping for."

"I think you might be overestimating my abilities," Deaton tells him. His eyes flick over to the hybrid questioningly and she immediately shakes her head.

"I've seen a lot of shit across the years, but this is also way out of my league."

Lydia reaches out and takes Derek's hand, her eyes widening in alarm. "He's cold," she says. "Really cold."

Whilst Deaton takes the boy's other hand to check for a steady pulse, Scott hesitates for a moment before asking, "Do you think this is permanent?"

"I'm not sure a medical diagnosis is even adequate," Deaton replies, shining his torch into Derek's eyes. "This is well beyond my experience."

"Well, what the hell do we do with him?" Ophelia questions.

"Until he wakes up? Probably not much." Rain patters against the windows and Deaton suggests, "It might be best to leave him with me. He'll be safe here."

Stiles sighs. "You mean from Kate?"

"If she's alive and she is what you say she is, she won't be able to walk past that gate."

Lydia stares at Derek, still beyond confused as to why he's even like this in the first place. "Why would she want to do this to him?" she asks quietly.

"Knowing Kate, it's probably for a reason that won't be any good for anyone but her," the vet answers grimly.

"And bad for everyone else," Stiles finishes.

Ophelia purses her lips together. "So far, I'm really not a fan of this lady. Actually, I'm rather keen on killing her myself."

Deaton cracks a smile. But then he takes notice of how exhausted each of them look. He watches them all blink rather excessively to keep themselves awake and says, "You guys should probably go home. He doesn't look to be in any danger. So maybe the rest of you should get some sleep?" He smiles slightly again before adding, "It is a school night." Ophelia loudly groans. "And you all need to start taking care of your own lives again."

Without any hesitation, Scott recommends, "Someone should stay with you."

Deaton's eyes move back over to Lydia whose hand is still being gripped by Derek. "I'll stay," the banshee offers. She shrugs at the sceptical look Scott throws her. "My grades are fine... despite missing a few classes."

Ophelia's eyes narrow. "No, absolutely not," she denies firmly. "I am beyond not okay with this."

Stiles quickly raises his hand. "Also not okay with this," he agrees.

Lydia rolls her eyes and turns to stare Ophelia down. "Guys. Go."

"No."

Scott is so tired at this point that he's not even going to let them argue any longer. "Text us if anything happens," he tells Lydia. She nods.

"Nope! Still not okay with this," Stiles protests loudly. His eyes widen when Scott grabs him by the collar to drag him out of the room. "All right, just 'cause you're stronger..."

But when the True Alpha grabs Ophelia's arm, he instantly regrets it. "Get your grabby hands off me, you little shit," she snarks, slapping his hand away. When Scott stops himself and Stiles to give her a pointed look, she rolls her eyes. "Fine, I'm coming, give me a second."

Lydia turns to look at her as the boys exit the clinic whilst Deaton busies himself by grabbing some equipment out of the desk drawers. "Fi, I'll be fine," she reassures her softly. "Really. Go home. You need to sleep."

Ophelia's eyes dart across Lydia's face, trying to find any sign of hesitation or reluctance to stay. But there's nothing. Her stubbornness is rubbing off on the girl. "Crap," she mutters. With a sigh of defeat, she nods. "Fine. But if you need me or if you even think something might go wrong, call-"

"We're gonna be fine," Lydia repeats, a little more firmly this time.

"But-" Ophelia closes her eyes when her phone rings. It's four in the morning, what could someone possibly need with her at this hour? Hayley Marshall. Instinctively, her heart beats faster at the possible reasons that float through her head as to why the woman might be calling her. Has something changed with her siblings? Have their conditions worsened? Or has she found the cure?

Lydia gently shoves her arm. "Lia, answer it and go home." When her best friend nods again, she leans forward to chastely kiss her cheek and waves a hand toward the door.

As Ophelia exits the animal clinic, walking straight out into the rain, she stands in the open and lets the water drop onto her body. It's a refreshing change in environment from the deserts of Mexico. She answers the phone on its last ring. "Hayley, what's wrong? Did something go wrong? Are you okay? Is Hope okay? Is everyone okay?"

"Hi, sorry, I know it's early — and yeah, everyone's okay. I was just- I was calling because I have an update."

"A good update?"

She hears a door close on the other side of the line and listens to Hayley shuffle, presumably sitting down. "Look, Fi, I've found the cure for Freya, and I've got a witch who can siphon Rebekah's hex."

Ophelia's eyes widen in shock. Quickly, a grin spreads onto her face and she tilts her head up to look into the dark, starless, cloud filled sky. "Holy shit," she whispers. She blinks a drop of rain out of her eye. "You did it."

"I'll pretend it sounds like you always had lots of faith in me. I've got six out of the seven werewolves, and someone I know has a lead on the last one: something about a sole survivor of the pack. I have to check it out."

"Okay, yeah, where is it? I'll meet you there, I can leave in an hour-"

Hayley sighs. "No."

Ophelia blinks. "Excuse me?" she retorts calmly.

"I said no, Fi. I'm not letting you uproot your life again. I can do this on my own. Plus, it might just be a dead-end, even though I'm praying it's not..."

"Hayley, that's insane. You're not going on your own. Where's this bloody dog located?"

"Yeah, because if I told you then you wouldn't come."

She clears her throat. "No, I wouldn't come," she states innocently.

Hayley snorts. "Don't bullshit me, I can hear your heart." Ophelia rolls her eyes. "I'm leaving Hope with my mother-in-law, ex-mother-in-law, so I'll pack up and leave in the morning. I'll let you know what happens, okay?"

The teenage girl takes a deep breath and nods. "Okay," she whispers. This is now completely out of her control. "Be safe, yeah?"

"Always. You too." There's a pause. "Hope misses you. We both miss you."

A sad smile graces her face. "I miss you guys, too. Good luck, Hayley." And she hangs up.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

She had surprisingly gotten a decent four hours of sleep once she finally had returned home. Although that's only because a minute after her head had hit the pillow, she had heard the front door open and close, and a second later Malia was slipping into her bed. It's not the first time it's happened, but Ophelia isn't complaining. She knows the werecoyote is having trouble sleeping because she's not used to having a fur coat anymore, and she's more than happy to help her get comfortable and used to this new side of her life.

She strolls across the school parking lot and toward the building, a quiet hum leaving her lips as she feels Malia swinging their joined hands. "Excited to be back?"

"No."

"Me either, don't worry."

"How does anyone like this place?"

Ophelia turns to look at her friend thoughtfully. "I really don't know," she answers honestly.

History is the first class for the day, which is made slightly more bearable because of their past experiences with Ken Yukimura. It's more bearable for her friends. For Ophelia, it's beyond awkward. She still can't meet his eyes without feeling guilt shred through her body.

"It might surprise you to know that some of history's greatest leaders have had to endure some pretty great failures." Mr Yukimura puts his chalk down and turns around to face his class. "One you'll recognise from last night's reading failed in business, had a nervous breakdown, was defeated for both houses of Congress, and lost as Vice President, before he was finally elected as one of the greatest presidents that this country has ever seen. Who was he?"

Ophelia stares into empty space. She obviously didn't do the reading last night. As she listens to Malia beside her frantically highlight pages in her textbook, it's becoming clear that the girl also didn't do it.

A few of the students raise their hands, including Stiles who playfully winks at Scott. But of course, none of the students who actually know the answer are called on. "Malia."

With one of the neon pens gripped tightly in her teeth, the girl halts her highlighting and looks up like a deer caught in headlights. Scott and Stiles anxiously turn around to look at her whilst Ophelia's eyes widen. She couldn't help her friend even if she wanted to.

Mr Yukimura raises his eyebrows, silently asking for the answer. But then a phone rings loudly. "Ophelia, phones off," he calls out. She nods but her anxiety has spiked once noticing that it was Lydia trying to get in contact with her. "Malia? One of our greatest presidents." Malia places the other pen in her mouth as well and nods whilst she starts shuffling through her notes. "Gettysburg Address?" Kira waves her hand to try and get her father to shift the attention onto her.

Another phone chimes. This time it's Scott's.

"Phones off. Everyone." He watches Malia continue to study her notes and sighs, eyes shifting onto the girl seated beside her. "Ophelia?" She turns to stare at the teacher exasperatedly, giving him a look that says, Does it look like I know the answer? He sighs once more. "Does anyone else know?" The entire class, save for Scott, Stiles, and Ophelia raise their hands.

Ophelia frowns at how Malia deflates in disappointment that she couldn't answer the question. "Hey, it's okay, he was a dick for calling on you," she whispers.

Another phone rings. "I said phones off!" the teacher yells.

"Dad," Kira calls out. "That was yours."

He shifts awkwardly, embarrassment etched onto his face. "Oh. Um..." As he takes his phone out to switch it off, he reads the text aloud in confusion. "'Ophelia, call Lydia.'"

And it's then the Stone comes to realise that something has gone incredibly wrong.

Herself, Stiles, and Scott say their goodbyes to Malia and Kira and hastily leave the school to drive straight over to the animal clinic. They enter the building to discover Lydia bandaging up an injured Deaton's arm and Derek nowhere to be found. The banshee and veterinarian quickly begin to fill them in on what had occurred whilst they were gone. "I don't think he's just younger in body," Deaton admits. "I think he's younger in mind, too." He holds a hand up when Ophelia offers her arm with a drop of her blood on her finger, but he doesn't have the energy to fight her off as she takes his hand without a word and siphons the pain away.

"He didn't recognise either of us," Lydia adds. She sighs and places the last piece of tape onto Deaton's arm. "And he looked like he was scared out of his mind."

"So, if you're a teenage werewolf and you're scared, where do you go?" Stiles asks.

"Den," Ophelia answers immediately. "His den."

Scott frowns. "But Derek lives in a loft," he points out.

"Not when he was a teenager," Stiles corrects.

"The Hale House," Lydia realises.

Deaton's eyes widen. "He wouldn't remember the fire," he says, informing them all an alarming detail. "It wouldn't have happened yet."

Ophelia rubs the side of her face. "Oh, this is bad," she mutters. "This is really, really bad."

As her friends get ready to take off and try and find Derek, Lydia stops them as she says, "Hold on, say you do manage to catch up to him. What are you going to say to him? That his whole family is dead?"

The hybrid's eyes squint slightly. "Yes," she replies bluntly. Everyone turns to look at her. "Just rip the band aid off. It's always the better option." She misses the look Stiles and Scott share, both thinking of another situation that they've yet to deal with.

Scott sighs softly. "I guess we're going to have to," he agrees with her.

Lydia scoffs. "Oh, good luck with that."

"She's probably right," Stiles agrees, glancing to the two on either side of him. "Maybe you shouldn't. You know, at least until we figure out how to get him back to normal."

"I can't lie to him," Scott says.

Stiles gives a curt nod. "Okay, I'll do it."

"I don't think any of us can," Scott clarifies. "Remember, he can hear a heartbeat rising." Ophelia points to him. "When we find him, we tell him the truth."

And then Alan Deaton points out something important. "If he gets to the house first, you won't have to."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Ophelia skids to a stop in the doorway of the Sheriff's Station with Stiles and Scott right in front of her. All three of them look at Sheriff Stilinski with wide eyes who moves his attention off Derek seated on a bench and over to them. He sighs in understanding. "I'll handle this," he tells his deputies sternly. He gestures for the teens to follow him into his office and once inside he closes the door. "I want you to be honest with me," Noah begins, his eyes lingering on his son. "Absolutely and completely honest." Whilst Stiles is a little uneasy about this, both Scott and Ophelia shrug in agreement. "Have you been time-travelling?"

Ophelia's eyes widen at the completely genuine question, no sarcasm coating it. He's serious. She spares a glance to the boys and both have an expression like her own. Stiles blinks quickly. "Hang on, what?"

"Because if time-travelling is real, you know what? I'm done. I'm out. You're gonna be driving me to Eichen House."

"Believe it or not, but we actually found him like that," she says. The boys rapidly nod along. But her words do nothing to reassure him.

"Where? Swimming in the fountain of youth?"

And now Ophelia laughs. She slaps a hand over her mouth when the Sheriff turns to scowl at her. "No," Stiles denies. "We found him buried in a tomb of wolfsbane in an Aztec temple in Mexico underneath a church in the middle of a town that was destroyed by an earthquake..." Scott, realising that this might be one of the most ridiculous things they've ever said, closes his eyes and deeply sighs.

Of course, they leave out the parts where they had gotten kidnapped, some of them tortured, and gone through life-threatening experiences, again.

"Dude!" Ophelia whispers. Stiles purses his lips.

But Noah completely disregards all the insanity in the explanation and focuses on the most normal part, that all of them were in Mexico. "You told me you were camping!" he hisses exasperatedly.

"Yeah, we were," Stiles insists with furrowed brows. "It was- it was in Mexico."

As she watches the man glare at his son with a newfound level of anger, Ophelia subconsciously inches closer to Stiles. "Derek's been aged backwards," Scott interjects, saving them from starting a heated argument. "He can't remember anything."

"We just need to talk to him," Stiles adds seriously.

With a sigh, the Sheriff sits back on his desk. "Yeah, well, so far he's not talking to anybody."

Ophelia looks out the window and watches Derek lean his head back against the wall. She grins. "Oh, he'll talk to me."

Sharing an alarmed look with each other, the boys instantly recognise her tone of voice. "Fi, how are you gonna do that?" Scott asks hesitantly.

"Well, torture is on the table-"

Stiles' eyes widen even further. "It's not even in the dining room!"

A few minutes later, they bring Derek into the office whilst Noah waits outside, watching them through the blinds. "Why would I go anywhere with you?" the boy queries sceptically.

"There was an accident," Scott begins calmly. "Okay, you lost some memory, but we can help you get it back." Ophelia arches a brow. He's not lying, per say, but he's also not telling the full truth.

"How much memory?"

"A lot," Scott continues.

"But you can trust us," she jumps in, giving Derek a small smile when his eyes meet hers. She stands in front of him and allows her eyes to glow crimson.

Once he understands that she's a werewolf, and Scott as well when he notices his eyes also red, Ophelia listens to his heartbeat settle slightly. "You're Alphas," he says quietly. He straightens up on the couch. "Okay, who are you?" Derek nods his head over to Stiles. "And who is he? Who are you?"

Stiles looks up from the medical bills scattered across his father's desk. "Oh, we're the people keeping you out of jail," he replies bluntly.

"Derek, let us help you," she says softly.

But he shakes his head adamantly. "No." She closes her eyes and inhales a deep breath. It turns out Derek Hale has always been stubborn.

"Okay, dude, you almost tore apart two cops back there," Stiles reminds him. "You need to listen to us. And that starts with no fangs, no claws, no wolf man. You got that?"

"I'm fine as long as it's not on a full moon," Derek confesses.

Ophelia and Scott share a look. "You still have trouble with the full moon?" the latter questions in surprise.

"I said I'm fine," the boy retorts.

"All right, you coming with us or not?"

"You want me to trust you?" Derek asks incredulously. His eyes flick between the three. "Where's my family?"

"Ah, fuck," Ophelia murmurs. She and her friends all share a look with each other, silently debating how they're going to play this out.

Scott nods slightly. "There was a fire," he starts. "And..."

Initially, she had been all for telling Derek the truth; no lies. But as she stares at the devastation on his face, she begins to rethink her entire plan. "They're not here anymore," she says. Derek's eyes dart over to her, widening slightly. "But they're okay, they're fine, don't worry," she reassures quickly. "They just had to leave Beacon Hills." She crouches down in front of him and gently places a hand on his knee. "But I swear to you, as soon as we figure out how to get your memories back, we'll take you to them. Okay?" And in a way, they could. She assumes the Hale family have graves...

With teary eyes searching her face, Derek takes a deep breath to compose himself and exhales shakily. "Okay," he whispers.

While they wait for Derek to fill out the respective paperwork to be released from custody, Stiles studies Ophelia's face curiously. When she finally glances over to him, he grins. "You are such a softie!"

"I will punch your face."

"There it is..."

"We shouldn't have done that," Scott begins quietly. "Fi shouldn't have done that," he corrects. "She lied her ass off."

"Hey, Fi's ass is fine," Stiles retorts.

Ophelia places a hand atop of his and smiles. "Stiles, that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

He rolls his eyes whilst Scott cracks a grin. "Shut up, you know that's not what I meant. Look, you saved him a ton of unnecessary pain. We'll figure this out in a day or two, he goes back to being old Derek, everyone's happy... Except for Derek, who's never happy."

"It's just another person that we're lying to," Scott points out. Ophelia frowns. "It's just- I always feel like it's always been better when you tell the truth. With Lydia, my mom, your dad."

"I would normally completely agree but this is an exception, Scott." She nods over to the boy talking with Deputy Parrish. "That's Derek Hale over there."

"Agreed. He may be a kid right now, but he's still Derek Hale."

"All right. Take him to my house, and don't let him out of your sight," Scott tells Stiles, heavily emphasising the last part of his sentence.

Stiles raises his eyebrows. "And where are you going?"

"I'm going to go talk to the guy we should have gone to before."

As Scott turns around, Stiles glances to him over his shoulder as he exclaims, "Uh, yeah, I hate that guy!"

Ophelia places a hand on his shoulder. "Which is why I'll go with him." Stiles breathes out a sigh of relief as she disappears to follow Scott.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Scott's dirt bike pulls up on the ramp in front of the building containing Derek's loft and both he and Ophelia step off the vehicle. His eyes widen in surprise as Malia stands before them. "What are you doing here?"

"I called her," Ophelia says, giving the werecoyote a smile.

Malia returns it then turns her gaze onto Scott. "Yeah, she said you guys were coming to talk to Peter, and Lydia tells me he's basically Satan in a V-neck..."

"That's surprisingly accurate," the hybrid agrees.

"I thought I'd tag along."

"I can handle Peter," Scott insists. He glances to his best friend. "You don't even need to be here."

Ophelia rolls her eyes. "Scott, please. I secretly scare the shit out of him, plus we're friends. So of course I need to be here." Malia grins as Ophelia loops their arms together and they stride through the open door, leaving Scott to trail after them with his heart anxiously thumping away.

None of them had told Ophelia about the newfound information about Malia's biological family. Peter Hale is her father. After the nogitsune had left her body, the Stone had up and left Beacon Hills without much notice. Telling her over the phone that her best friend's birthfather is a homicidal werewolf wasn't the best option, but now they have the chance to tell her in person it would seem like they've been purposefully keeping the information away from her (which they sort of have) and been lying to her face.

Malia also doesn't know, because how do you tell your new friend that the family you've grown up with your entire life, the family that you love and trust more than life itself, actually isn't your family? Not to mention that they've been lying to her as well.

As Scott opens the barn door to the loft, the girls share a look with each other. They have to address the werewolf's suffocating scent of anxiety. Ophelia knows that he isn't the biggest fan of Peter, but why is he this scared? "What's wrong with you?" Malia asks bluntly, scrunching her nose up slightly.

"Nothing," Scott replies.

Ophelia rolls her eyes. "Right, sure. Explains why your heart's beating like crazy." She turns to stare at him when she hears the organ's pace increase even more at her words. "Still nothing?"

"Are you nervous?" Malia adds.

"He's just bad at introductions," Peter drawls.

Scott jumps a little having not noticed the man when they had first walked in. Ophelia grins. "Evening, sunshine!" Peter lowers his book and smiles at her.

"Peter..." Scott turns to the girl beside him to awkwardly introduce them to one another. "This is Malia."

Once he lays eyes on his daughter, he immediately drops the book in his hands and stands up from the couch. After a few seconds of studying her, he says, "Beautiful eyes."

Ophelia grimaces. "All right, she's about fifty years younger than you."

He ignores her comment and continues to approach Malia. "Did you get them from your father?"

"Mother," Malia corrects uncomfortably, instinctively moving closer to her best friend. She feels Ophelia's hand brush against her own and she takes a deep breath, shifting under Peter's scrutinising gaze.

"Interesting..." After another moment more of staring at her, Peter starts to realise how uncomfortable he's making Malia and turns the topic of conversation. "Anyway, I'm sure they've told you a lot about me."

"The homicidal killing spree came up," Malia mentions sweetly.

"Well, we're all works in progress." He glances to the hybrid. "Aren't we, Fi?"

She rolls her eyes. "No need to throw me under the bus."

"Well, when you progress to your next killing spree," Malia narrows her eyes at him, "why don't you try and make sure they all stay dead?"

Peter's brows furrow in confusion. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asks, eyes flicking between them all questioningly.

"What do you know about people being turned by a scratch?"

He turns his head to look at the boy. "Did you scratch someone, Scott?" Scott tilts his head. "Don't worry about it, the claws have to go pretty deep."

"But it's possible," the werewolf gathers. "Like, if you clawed out someone's throat?"

"Well, yeah, it's possible," he replies with a nod. "It's also beyond rare. We're talking one in a..." Peter cuts himself off as he finally realises what they're trying to tell him. "Million," he growls. "Can't someone in this town stay dead?" he yells as he paces around the loft.

"I think they were hoping you would," Malia retorts.

Ophelia snorts out a laugh. "Look, do you have any clue why Kate would have any interest in turning Derek back into a teenager?"

"What colour were his eyes?"

"Blue," Scott answers.

Peter nods. "After Paige... Which could mean around the time he first met Kate."

Scott's eyes widen in shock. "Derek and Kate knew each other?" he queries incredulously.

Peter's lips twist into a smirk. "Biblically," he responds dramatically. He turns around to look at the bewildered expression on the teenage boy's face. "That's right, Scott. You weren't the first wolf to climb into a hunter's bed."

"Bloody hell, boys are fucking stupid," Ophelia says. Scott glares at her whilst Peter grins.

The older werewolf continues to pace around the loft in thought as they try to discover what Kate's intentions are with Derek. "Okay, Derek went to the site of the house thinking it was still there, right?"

Both Scott and Ophelia nod. "Yeah, but he doesn't remember the fire," the former says.

"But if doesn't remember the fire, then he doesn't remember that it was Kate that set it," Peter reminds them.

Ophelia's eyes widen. "He doesn't remember that she murdered basically his entire family."

"So, what does that mean?" Malia asks.

"Kate didn't just take him back to being a teenager. She-" Peter finally stops pacing as his face falls in a dawning realisation of her motives. He turns to face the three as he reveals, "She took him back to the age where he still knew her. When he still trusted her."

Scott immediately gets on the phone to Stiles, updating him on the alarming details they had just figured out. "No, he's in your bedroom," Stiles tells his best friend. "He'll be totally fine. To be honest, I'm starting to miss the old Derek. So, if you actually think that Kate's coming to find him-"

The group of four in the loft share a look when they hear Stiles abruptly stop talking. "Stiles?" Ophelia calls out.

"You might be right."

Malia, Peter, and Ophelia immediately race to the loft door, entirely ready to jump head-first straight into the situation involving Kate without thinking for a second about what could possibly be awaiting them. "Wait," Scott yells.

"For what?" Peter counters impatiently. "Kate's out there twisting her way into Derek's head yet again. We need to find her."

Ophelia nods. "All we need is to catch a scent."

"But that could take hours," Scott argues. "If we want to get ahead of her, we need to figure out where she's going." The girls lock eyes, silently agreeing that he's probably right. If Ophelia has learnt anything from what she's heard about Kate, it's that they need to be a step ahead of her. Perhaps impulsively running into a situation blind isn't the best option here.

"Not to underestimate my own cognitive faculties, but we're not exactly a brain-trust of geniuses here," Peter responds.

Ophelia sighs. "Yeah, that's not not true," she admits. Her eyes light up as she grabs her phone out of her pocket. "Which is why we're going to call one!"

It's not long before she gets hold of Lydia who instantly rambles that she and Kira had found a dismembered body in one of her banshee fugue states. "We called Stilinski," she tells the hybrid. She groans and Ophelia can only guess that she's laid eyes on a rather gruesome part of the crime scene. "They're on their way."

"Okay, what does it look like? The body? Can you send pictures for me, please?"

"Uh, okay." Lydia clears her throat. "But to be honest, I have a four-point-oh in AP biology and there are parts of the human anatomy I have never seen before on these walls."

They say their goodbyes and when the photo finally comes through Ophelia arches a brow. "Huh, that's not bad," she praises. Scott rolls his eyes at her natural violent tendencies. Only she would positively critique someone on how they've committed a murder.

"Why would she want to kill a gas station attendant?" Malia questions. They quickly delve into another brainstorming session.

"I don't think she could help it," Peter says.

Ophelia's eyes narrow as she studies the picture for another second, then she looks up to him and nods. "It doesn't look like a murder to me."

Peter nods in agreement. "It's a symptom."

Scott's brows furrow in confusion. "Of what?"

Peter and Ophelia share a look. "She can't control the shift," she tells them.

"Derek said he had the same issue on the full moon," Scott says. "That he's still learning."

"Kate's still learning?" Malia guesses.

"She wants to learn," Peter corrects.

"So, she wants Derek to teach her?"

"Not the best choice," Ophelia comments.

And then Peter finally figures it out. "No," he denies with a smile. "She wants the triskelion."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

On the drive toward the high school, Peter uses the time to explain the reason why they're headed to said location and exactly what the triskelion is. The Hales have a vault underneath the school's sign. A vault. Underneath a high school. In Ophelia's opinion, it might be the best place to have a secret spot to stash expensive and sentimental items. No one would ever look there.

As the group race up the steps, dried leaves blowing around their feet, Ophelia suddenly stops in her tracks, Malia not far behind her. Her eyes instantly glow a bright red and a snarl slips past her lips as she recognises the scent hanging in the air. "Did you catch a scent?" Scott asks.

Malia glances to the girl beside her. "It's the same one."

Peter looks at them both curiously. "The same damn one as Mexico," Ophelia growls.

"What are they talking about?"

"One of them came after us in the church ruins," Scott tells him.

"And one on the road," Malia says.

Ophelia's brows knit together in confusion. "But they can't have followed us here."

"But they could've been brought, by Kate," Scott realises.

Everyone stills as a loud growl reaches their ears. Peter closes his eyes for a second, fear seeping out of his figure. "Oh, I've heard that sound before," he mutters. He turns to the girls. "Did it have an animal skull? A human wearing a skull over its face?"

Malia hesitates for a second. "I think so," she replies.

"What the hell are they?" Ophelia asks impatiently.

The growls grow louder and the sound of footsteps suddenly echoes through the air. Peter freezes as he spots something over Malia and Ophelia's shoulders, eyes widening in panic. "Berserkers."

When she spots the creature approaching them in the tunnel, Ophelia's blood boils with rage. It's covered in bones, just like in Mexico, and its fingers are those incredibly sharp, dagger-like claws. Through her crimson tinted vision, she realises that is does look like a human concealed in animal skins and bones. And because all rationality has fled her mind, instead replaced by red, hot anger, Ophelia roars and lunges toward it. Malia's animal side also kicks in, following in her footsteps.

However, Peter tightly grabs onto both of their arms, stopping them from going any further. "Are you crazy?" he asks them in disbelief.

"There's just one of them," the werecoyote says.

Ophelia curtly nods. "Yeah, I can take it."

Peter shakes his head incredulously. "One of them means we have a chance."

"To beat him?"

"To survive." Without another second of hesitation, Peter spins on his heels and races up the stairs, leaving the teenagers to take on what they've recently learnt is called a berserker.

Scott glances to them in alarm and they all look back to the growling creature stalking toward its prey. Ophelia grits her teeth together and closes her eyes for a brief second before grabbing her friends' hands and taking off after Peter, aided by her vampiric speed. They speed across the school grounds, trying to get as far away from the creature as they can. When Ophelia declares they're safe, they finally stop, both Scott and Malia too frightened to acknowledge the nausea and light-headedness that overtakes their bodies.

Malia's eyes grow wide and she grips onto the hybrid's arm. "Fi," she whispers frantically.

Ophelia follows the werecoyote's line of sight and she growls at the berserker that now stands in front of them. "Oh, I really don't like you," she hisses angrily.

"We should run again," Scott stresses.

She tilts her head, contemplating his suggestion, but is leaning toward ripping the damn thing's head off. She watches its clawed fingers twitch with anticipation as it studies them. "Yeah, you're right," she agrees. She grabs both of their arms again as they back up the stairs, and then she catches sight of another.

"It's both of them," Malia utters in terror. "They're both here."

"Where the hell is Peter?" Scott yells.

"He ran like a coward." The berserker takes the stairs two at a time, closing the gap between them all incredibly quickly. Ophelia tightens her grip on their arms and takes off, their figures a blur as they place a decent distance between themselves and the two berserkers. However, right as they turn a corner, one of the creatures jumps down in front of them. "Oh, you've got to be shitting me!" she yells. She's too pissed off now to run, way too pissed off.

A deafening roar leaves her jaws as she lunges toward the closest berserker and her claws swipe at its chest, trying to get in between the bones and imbed into skin. As she sees Malia and Scott launch themselves at the other creature in her peripheral vision, Ophelia realises that it's not going to be as easy as she initially assumed. The bones aren't just decorative, they're armour. Claws aren't going to work. She needs to catch it off guard and somehow rip off the armour protecting its body, then rip out its heart or tear off its head.

Ophelia ducks under the berserker's arm as it swipes at her, whirling back around with a snarl as she firmly kicks its chest, sending it stumbling back a few feet. She hears a growl from the other creature, then hears Scott grunt as his head is slammed multiple times against one of the columns.

Black veins crawl down her cheeks as she races toward the berserker still gripping onto Scott and she grabs its shoulder before tossing it into the nearby fence. He gives her a grateful nod as they breathe heavily, watching it stand up and growl at them once more.

But when she hears Malia cry out in pain, her entire world slows down. Ophelia's head snaps to the side, eyes widening in horror as she immediately smells blood in the air, and she finds the girl crumpled on the floor clutching at her leg as the berserker looms over her. "Malia!"

Whilst Scott struggles to take care of the other, Ophelia feels a type of anger fill her body that she hasn't felt before. She watches Malia try to crawl away from it, her face scrunching up in agony as the pain of her leg stops her from making any sudden movements.

It's all a blur as Ophelia roars once more, racing over to the creature covered in bones then launches herself onto its back, tearing the skull of its face with such an ease that it slightly frightens both her friends. As soon as it is unprotected, her hands grip onto either side of its neck, and with one swift movement she rips its head cleanly off its body.

Ophelia drops back onto the ground as her chest heaves up and down, watching in shock as the berserker disintegrates into a cloud of dust. She blinks through the blood coating her eyelashes, and most likely her face, and turns around to face the remaining one. She casts an anxious look over to Malia who stares up at her in what looks like awe. However, before she can attack the remaining creature, Kira suddenly jumps into the battle, swinging her katana expertly.

With a spare moment as Kira distracts the berserker, Ophelia rushes over to Malia, dropping onto her knees beside her. "Are you okay? Is it bad?"

Malia winces and smiles slightly. "I can't believe you did that," she says quietly.

"It hurt you," Ophelia replies, not looking up at her as she bites into her wrist. "Nobody hurts you." She brushes Malia's hair off her face as she places her bloodied skin up to her lips, letting the girl drink from it to heal her body.

"Kira!"

Scott's scream brings their attention back to the scene at hand, just in time to watch the berserker quickly disarm her and throw her back. The kitsune lands on the ground beside Scott, both of them trying to catch their breath as the bone covered creature stalks toward them again.

And just as Malia and Ophelia stand up, eyes glowing brightly as they prepare themselves to attack it once more, they hesitate as someone beats them to it. Derek Hale comes out of nowhere, sprinting down the corridor and kicking and punching at the berserker, swiftly ducking and dodging its returning strikes.

"When did Derek learn to fight?" Ophelia questions in disbelief. Derek is slammed up against a locker, narrowly missing a deadly punch, then gets knocked to his knees before eventually kicking the berserker back as he jumps up. She and her friends are in completely shock as they watch the teenage Derek morph into his current adult state in various moments of the fight.

Suddenly, a loud screech-like roar fills the air, and the berserker instantly abandons the teenagers and rushes to join Kate who had called it. Derek is still crouched on the ground and when he finally stands up it's clear that he no longer holds the figure of his seventeen year old self.

"Derek?" Scott calls out hopefully, blood trickling down his nose and mouth.

The werewolf is panting, winded from the fight, and he slowly turns around to face his friends. Ophelia takes a step toward him, brows drawn in concern as she quickly realises that something isn't right. She locks eyes with him and freezes when his irises glow a brilliant golden. Not blue. Golden.

Before she can share words with any of them, her head snaps around at the familiar scents that her nose catches. Without any warning, she disappears into a blur, speeding through the school and toward two of her best friends, more than worried as to why they're here. Ophelia finds Lydia and Stiles by the school sign that has been rotated to reveal a staircase leading underground to the Hale vault.

Stiles yelps in fright at her sudden appearance and Lydia's lips part in fear at the blood staining her shirt and spattered over her face. She runs over to Ophelia, gently gripping her arms as she rushes out, "What happened? Are you hurt? Why are you bleeding?"

Ophelia smiles at her weakly. "It's not my blood," she says softly. Lydia's eyes widen further and she nods slightly, taking a step back. She meets Stiles' worried eyes. "We really need to get you something other than a baseball bat."

He rolls his eyes. "Glad to see you, too."

And then they all notice the smoke floating up out of the vault. The three share a look and hurry down the stairs and into the vault where they find Peter kneeled on the floor, hysterically muttering words before an opened safe. "It was- it was never about the triskelion." The teens share a look of confusion as they approach him. "They took it, they took it while I was blinded."

"Took what?" Lydia asks.

If Peter's surprised by their arrival, he doesn't show it, but Ophelia doesn't think he is given by how stricken he is by whatever had happened here. He stands up, staring at the safe. "Bonds," he responds. Peter turns around to look at them, eyes lingering on Ophelia a little longer as he notices the amount of blood staining her body. "Bearer bonds and they took them all."

"Bearer bonds?" Stiles smiles. "Hold on. Are you saying you got robbed?" he questions in amusement, pointing at the visibly distressed werewolf.

"This was a heist," Peter corrects. "Somebody planned this," he exclaims, only spiralling further as he continues to think about it.

Ophelia frowns at his state, rattled by just how upset he appears to be. "How much was taken?"

"One-hundred and ninety-seven..."

Stiles' brows shoot up. "Thousand?" he assumes.

"Million."

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘚𝘖 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵. 𝘍𝘪'𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘻𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵. 𝘞𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵. 𝘐𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 117 𝘵𝘰 197 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰 🙃

𝘞𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘺 𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘉𝘜𝘛 𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘓𝘪𝘢𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘠𝘈𝘠𝘠

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺!! 🤍