A/N: I can't stop writing for this fandom, it's becoming a problem... Anyway, Weaponized is my favorite season 4 episode, and I just started thinking about everything that could have gone wrong, and this story was the result. Enjoy!

Warning: Major character death(s)

This was easily becoming the worst week of Derek's life- and that was saying a lot, considering how awful his life had been. First finding Satomi's entire pack dead, then Liam almost dying, then Braeden almost dying... And now no one knew where Scott, Stiles, Kira, and Malia were.

So yeah. This week was shit.

After Deaton had figured out the cure for the virus, Melissa has called her husband with the information. As he was still in the dark about the supernatural, she was as vague as possible while still giving enough information to save Scott and the others.

Agent McCall had called back about twenty minutes later, explaining that he had found Stiles, told him the information, and hadn't seen Scott or the others at all.

That was thirty minutes ago. Now Derek was pacing the grounds outside the high school, wondering where those stupid teenagers had gone. Finally, he spotted the sheriff.

"Sheriff Stilinski!" Derek shouted, jogging towards the older man.

The sheriff looked up, looking slightly overwhelmed, but he gave Derek a small smile. "Derek," he said, "good to see you."

Derek nodded distractedly. "I need to get into the school," he snapped, the tensions from the week coming out in his voice.

The sheriff nodded, looking slightly startled. "Why?" he asked, already leading the werewolf toward the front doors.

"I think Scott and Stiles are still in there," Derek responded, "and Kira and Malia."

The sheriff looked over at him, eyebrows raised. "Of course they're still in there. The quarantine hasn't been lifted yet. Everyone is still in there."

Now it was Derek's turn to act surprised. "If the school is still on quarantine, how are you letting me in?"

The sheriff just shrugged. "Official jurisdiction. Don't worry, I'll handle it. I'm going to trust that you know what you're doing."

Derek nodded, although he wasn't sure he did know what he was doing. Stiles could have gotten the information about the cure to Scott just fine, and they weren't able to communicate because of the quarantine. There were, Derek was sure, plenty of harmless reasons why Scott or Stiles hadn't called him.

But he didn't think the real reason was one of those. He couldn't explain it, but Derek knew that something was wrong. And he was going to find out what it was.

So he followed the sheriff to the front doors of the school, pushed them open, and stepped inside.

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

Inside the doors, it was chaos. Impromptu quarantine spaces set up in the halls and classrooms, men and women in yellow suits running around, people conversing everywhere... But something wasn't right. There was chaos, but there wasn't panic. Some kids were even walking around outside of their quarantine spaces.

The students were... Getting better?

Derek supposed that made sense. The virus was designed to kill supernatural creatures, not humans. It made sense that they would get better eventually, just like they were healing from a normal illness, but Derek hadn't expected it to happen this quickly.

Shaking his head, the werewolf pulled himself out of his thoughts. The other students weren't his problem right now. He had a pack to find.

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

A few conversations later, and Derek was no closer to finding Scott and the others. Lydia's mother had told him that she had seen Stiles about 45 minutes beforehand, asking about coach, but hadn't seen him or the others since.

Derek had then looked at the coach's office, and had seen signs of someone rummaging around, but nothing else.

But then Derek thought of something- what if they were still at the vault? They would have gone down there to get the tea anyway, so maybe they were still there? Derek knew that there was an entrance to the vault in the basement of the school, although it hadn't been used in years, so he headed for the basement.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw where a shelf had been moved out of the way, probably to access the entrance of the vault. Rounding the corner, Derek saw a single figure slumped against the wall.

Stiles.

Derek walked toward him cautiously. The teen wasn't moving, just leaning there as if all the strength had gone out of his body. "Stiles?" Derek asked, voice quiet and hesitant.

Stiles lifted his head, and Derek physically stumbled back at the expression on the human's face. It was an expression of true grief, a sadness more intense than Derek had ever seen. It was the face of someone who had lost everything.

"Stiles, what's wrong? What happened?" Derek asked, moving closer to the wall and the boy on the floor in front of it.

But Stiles just shook his head, tears streaming down his face.

Derek was losing his abilities, but he still had his hearing. So he stepped up to the door of the vault and listened. He heard his own heartbeat, and Stiles', but nothing else. The room was silent.

Derek swallowed, beginning to guess what was behind the door, but not wanting to believe it.

"Stiles," he said, sinking to his knees beside the teen, "are the others in there?"

Stiles looked up at Derek, tears still falling, and his expression was so broken that he didn't need to answer. "Can you hear their heartbeats?" Stiles asked, voice raspy and quiet.

Derek bit his lip, feeling the tears beginning to form in his own eyes, and shook his head.

Stiles fell apart. It was as if he was waiting for confirmation of what he already knew before he let himself truly grieve. He cried audibly now, sobs physically shaking his body as he sank completely to the floor, banging his fists against the cement.

"Hey hey hey," Derek said, grabbing Stiles' arms, even as he felt the tears falling down his own cheeks. The werewolf pulled the teen's shaking body toward him in an awkward hug, trying to keep Stiles from hurting himself.

"Scott," Stiles sobbed into Derek's chest, "he's... He's..." He broke off, crying desperately.

Derek rubbed Stiles' back, struggling to keep his own emotions in control. It wasn't fair. They were all so young, only teenagers, and they had been sucked into a world they never chose to join. First Allison, then Aiden, and now Scott and Kira and Malia. All taken before their time.

And what about the boy still shaking and sobbing in his arms? Stiles was dating Malia, but Derek knew that Scott was his everything. The pair was inseparable, and everyone knew it. How long could Stiles survive with his other half gone?

As if he knew what Derek was thinking, Stiles suddenly mumbled, "He should have killed me. He should have killed me."

Derek pushed Stiles away from him slightly in shock, looking him in the eye. "What did you say?"

"I said he should have killed me!" Stiles screamed, face red and covered in tears. "The assassin," he continued, more subdued, head down. "He was going to kill me if I didn't tell him where Scott was." Stiles looked back up at Derek, completely broken. "I wish he had."

Derek shook his head immediately. "No, you don't," he said, trying to show that he meant it. This was Stiles, the hyperactive spaz who was always there with a sarcastic comment, a smile, and a plan.

Except there was no smile in the boy sitting in front of him. There was only the agony that came from losing your entire world. The tears were falling again, and Stiles didn't even try to argue with Derek. He just slumped forward, completely spent. Derek caught him immediately, pulling the human back into a hug.

But as Derek rubbed Stiles' back again, trying to provide any measure of comfort he could, one thought was running through his mind.

How could any of them survive without Scott McCall?