Chapter Twenty Three: Unfortunate Circumstances, To Be Sure

Stiles choked on a jumble of words, an exhale of disbelief and some saliva when Alex looped her arm through his and demanded he walk her to class.

This girl and her mood swings were going to give him a heart attack.

She was warm and she smelled so good. It was hard not to stand there looking dumbfounded as she lead him through the halls - smiling coyly at him from under her lashes every steps. The mood she was in was so unlike any other variation of Alex he'd ever seen. He decided it was most akin to 'sleepy' Alex. When she'd stayed with him at his house before she'd moved in with Derek, she's always woken up in the morning bleary eyed and soft.

More often than not, her body would span the length of his bed, her soft curves pressed against his arm or his leg. It was almost like she was cautious, even in her sleep, of getting too close. He'd always wake up a little before her and watch her sleep, and when she finally opened her eyes, a small smile would play at the corners of her mouth without her permission and she'd mumble a sleepy greeting. His favourite was when she'd snuggle a little deeper into his pillow and let out a contented sigh.

This Alex reminded him of sleepy mornings, soft smiles and lazy whispers.

He nearly groaned with displeasure when Scott intercepted them, worry etched deep into his features, effectively breaking whatever spell Alex had been under this morning. Instantly her walls were back up and her mask firmly in place. The happy glimmer in her eye was replaced by focus and determination.

Why did Scott always look worried and why did it have to be now?

Scott pulled them aside, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"They think it's Lydia." The words were urgent. "Derek, Erica, Isaac, Boyd - they're coming for her."

"Boyd?" Alex asked, confused. She removed her arm from where it had been slotted against his and Stiles felt the cold air replace her warm skin and he reminded himself to kick Scott's ass later - or attempt too, anyway.

"Newest addition to the ranks." Stiles explained.

"If you'd answered your phone last night-" Scott interrupted himself, awareness flickering across his features that now was not the time to pick a fight with Alex. "They think she's the Kanima. They're going to kill her."

"Woah, woah, woah. Kanima?" The word tasted familiar in her mouth and the realization dawned on her quickly after that. She'd spent her childhood pouring over the Bestiary. "Shit. That makes sense. Holy hell, how did you figure that out?"

"Allison." Was Scott's hasty answer.

"That's impressive recon on her part." Alex complimented. "She's getting better at this."

"Focus." Stiles urged, with a gentle nudge to her shoulder. He was just looking for excuses to touch her now - like maybe he could bring back her easy amicability from earlier. It was a stupid thought, they were in a particularly situation now that required focus, not pining.

"Right." She shook it off. "Why exactly do they think that it's Lydia?"

"According to Derek, he was pretty sure that it was Jackson - it would explain why the bite didn't turn or kill him." Said Scott. "Jackson was pretty quick to throw Lydia under the bus after Derek confronted him. He thinks she did something to him that interfered with the bite."

"What a moron." Alex said, shaking her head. "I knew that much, Lydia told me last night that Jackson was harassing her about it."

"What does she know?" Scott demanded, his worry lines carving deeper grooves into his forehead.

"Nothing. Jackson didn't give anything away." Scott seemed satisfied with her answer.

"Derek thinks that Peter might have done something to her the night of the dance." Scott finished, glancing around at the students who were milling around the hallways and into the Chemistry Lab.

Lydia walked by them, giving her a wink and a smile as she walked through the door. Alex watched her take her usual seat at the work bench. Scott or Stiles nudged her and she turned her head away from Lydia to see Erica and Isaac, who wore not only matching leather jackets - but matching smirks, as well.

"Wait? Now?" Alex exclaimed. "In the middle of Chemistry?"

"So not how I imagined high school dramatics." Stiles muttered under his breath, watching the confident strides of Derek's new Beta's.

"Let's go." Alex said stonily, making a move to walk into the classroom and park herself so close to Lydia that the school would write her up for indecent behaviour. Then Stiles put his hand around her forearm, stopping her and she looked up at him with her usual fire, but also with a quiet questioning.

"You're not in this class." He reminded her.

"I am now." She said with impressive determination.

"No, if they're planning something, Derek has to be around here somewhere right?" Stiles was right, of course. "If anyone can talk some sense into him, it would be you. Go. Find him. We'll keep an eye out for Lydia."

"Stiles is right, Alex." Scott agreed. "Besides, Allison is in this class. Lydia will be fine."

Alex reluctantly agreed after telling them in concise detail exactly how she was going to mutilate their bodies if anything happened to Lydia.

"Ms. Alex Argent, please report the principals office." A shrill voice rang out over the school speakers. "Ms. Alex Argent to the principals office."

"Shit." All three friends echoed the same statement, three sets of gazes bouncing between each others worried faces. Alex drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Stiles watched as more tension build in her shoulders as opposed to relaxing them. She was steeling herself, he realized, for a different kind of fight.

"I'll go deal with Grandaddy dearest." Alex decided. Scott and Stiles nodded, continuing into the classroom. Stiles turned to look at her once more and they shared a look that didn't need to be accompanied by words.

Keep her safe.

Be careful.

.

Alex was instructed to wait in the reception area for, what Alex thought was, a ridiculous amount of time before the receptionist beckoned her over. Her thoughts were preoccupied by what was going on in that chemistry class, but she was still herself enough to roll her eyes at the receptionist, who's face was caked in way too much pink blush and a smile far too cheery for Alex to stomach.

Alex didn't bother knocking before strolling casually into her grandfathers office.

Gerard had the wherewithal not to look startled at her entrance. He merely peered at her over his glasses. They were obviously just for show because the old bag had perfect eye sight. He tapped his fingers, which were riddled with the signs of aging, on a stack of papers and leaned back in his office chair.

Alex flopped uncaring into the chair opposite him, across the large oak desk that she was well aware no ordinary high school principal would be able to afford. "Hey Gramps." She said with an unbothered smile. "How's it hanging?"

"I wish I could say I've been looking forward to seeing you, Alexandra." His deep monotone voice filled the room like it always did. "These are unfortunate circumstances, to be sure."

Alex took stock of his office. He'd redone it since taking over as principle. The last time she'd been called in to the Principal's office the room had been filled with cheap Ikea furniture and motivational posters of cats. There was a warm, rich feel to it now - all teakwood, and mahogany. Grandiose wooden pictures frames intricately carved and housing pictures of sprawling landscapes of European countries. Mostly France, and Alex fought back a scoff.

He'd always been elitist.

"I like what you've done with the place." She commented. "It's very 'Dumbledore' meets 'Dead Poets Society'."

"I was expecting to see you at your Aunt Kate's funeral." Gerard declared, ignoring her useless commentary. "She was your family, after all."

"And a murdering psychopath, to boot." She deadpanned, disappointed when only a flash of hurt appeared on his face and disappeared too quickly for her to relish in it.

"You have an obligation to your family, Alexandra." His eyes only stayed on her for a moment before returning to scan over something in a file on his desk. Alex was certain it wasn't anything important or pressing - he just wanted her know that she was barely worth a glance.

"Since when has family ever meant anything to you?" Alex asked genuinely. She couldn't ever remember a time when Gerard had called her on her birthday or come to her grade school recital (not that she ever had the time to actually be in one). Grandfathers were supposed to be strict, but loving and interested. They were supposed to have hard candy on hand and smell like moth balls and Nivea cream.

Gerard had never cared about anything other than his families ability to hunt and his own resulting power.

He'd proved that one chilly night, her thirteenth birthday to be exact. He'd made a show of coming to see her - but had other motives. They were living in Chicago at the time and the city had been in a state of panic.

The Argents had gotten themselves in a sticky situation with a violent pack of were coyotes living in the sewers beneath the city. The pack was careless with their attacks and every media outlet had started running stories about serial killers and cannibals prowling the streets. The headlines were a new horror every day.

Chris, Gerard and Alex had easily found the den, they'd expected a small pack of five or six but happening upon just under 100 sleeping in a huge pile with the filth and grime was unexpected. Carnage from their victims had been piled high in the dank recess of the sewer and the stench was unlike anything Alex had ever experienced - it had made her stomach turn violently. The smell of rotting flesh would haunt her for years afterwards.

The fighting hadn't lasted long before the Hunter's had corralled the weres, doused every available surface in gasoline and set the place on fire. During the commotion and as the smoke filled the enclosed area, Alex had gotten separated from her team. The smoke was thick and the sewers were dark, she was running but she couldn't tell in which direction. She could hear the wails of dying were coyotes and the sound of claws scraping desperately on damp cement. One sound caught her attention above the cacophony.

She could hear the echoes of Gerard's screaming reverberating from the concrete walls. It was like a labyrinth, all winding passages and dark hallways. Despite being scared, lost, and completely on her own, she followed her grandfathers shouts for help, hoping desperately that the echoes weren't leading her away from him.

Alex made a sharp turn through a small hole in the concrete and came up upon a larger space. It was hard to see through all the smoke, but a large whimpering mass sprawled out on the concrete certainly looked like her grandfather. She only took two steps towards him when two were coyotes growled from beyond the thick smoke. She could only see the blue of their eyes glimmering through the haze and she reached for her knives.

"Alex," Gerard croaked, reaching a bloody hand towards her. "Help me."

She made quick work of one of the supernaturals, though the limited eye sight was working to her disadvantage, the were's were torn between fighting for their last meal or fighting to get out of the Den alive. The flames had spread quickly and were now licking at the sides of the walls of the space they were in. One of the were's had backed up significantly after watching its counterpart fall to the ground, its arm severed from its body. She took the opportunity to reach for Gerard's outstretched hand while she had some time.

He smiled gratefully at her while the second were let a growl rip so viciously from its throat that it sounded like a battle cry. Alex went to turn and protect her wounded grandfather when she felt two strong hands pushing her shoulders back, causing her to fall, landing right in the were coyotes outstretched claws. Gerard, smile still on his face, turned and ran.

"It's nothing personal." He had said.

At only thirteen, Alex was small and quick. She'd learned to use that to her advantage while training with her father. The struggle with the second were coyote was a brief one, but still left her out of breath. She checked her watch and grumbled, she was out of time. She had made the stupid choice to go after her grandfather instead of trying to find her way back to the sewers entrance.

A fucking stupid choice.

She knew that her team had already sealed the grate they had entered from.

She was trapped for two days in the burning sewer before Chris, Gerard and a few other members of their team had come back down, with the intent to kill whatever were coyotes had survived the ambush. They'd be scared and starved and easier to kill.

When they had found Alex, who'd figured she might as well make herself comfortable after wandering aimlessly four hours, she was curled up in a circular ledge cut into the cement to keep dry. She'd killed all the remaining were coyotes who had amazingly survived the attack and subsequent arson, it had drained her energy substantially. She was nearing delusional when they found her, covered in blood, filth and soot.

Her father nearly cried. Gerard had told them all that she had died in battle. Alex chose to keep her mouth shut about Gerard's betrayal as her father pulled her close, whispering prayers of thanks and a few other inaudible ramblings. Gerard watching her with a narrowed gaze - he had been impressed. With her ability to survive or her silence, she didn't know.

Now, however, her grandfather was decidedly not impressed with her. He was trying not to lash out, she could tell by how his hands clenched and unclenched into a fist on the sophisticated new desk.

"Our family is everything - we hunt those, who hunt us." He stood from his chair, his voice raising as he recited their awful family motto with reverence. "I was hoping to persuade you to remember that."

"Fat chance." Alex rolled her eyes, matching his glare and refusing to back down.

"Every hunter goes through this phase of morality." His voice had regained some composure, but Alex could still see his Argent anger bubbling just beneath the surface. "They always find their way back to the right side of this fight."

"I am on the right side." She stated, "I've done a lot of terrible things in the name of this family - in the name of this fight. Things that I'm going to have to find a way to live with. I only hope one day I can forgive myself. You on the other hand," She looked uncharacteristically sullen now, "I hope the weight of your choices crush you."

Gerard stared at her for a moment before laughing, a garbled sound punctuated by some unhealthy wheezing and coughing. "When you've finished having your fun shacking up with Derek Hale, I'm going to expect quite an elaborate apology."

Alex decided that she was done with this conversation. She had won, obviously, otherwise he wouldn't have resorted to such low hanging fruit. Implying something untoward about her sex life was beneath him, he was scrambling. She was done sitting idly by while her family took control of her life, while they laughed at her, while they undermined her. They'd created her, that was true.

But she wasn't playing by their rules anymore.

She stood from her chair with a practiced arrogance and walked with a purposeful stride, stopping at the door. She looked over her shoulder at the patriarch of her family, "Do me a favour, at the next family game night," She sneered, "Ask my dad about our family trip to Scotland." She carefully watched his reaction; a crease between the brow and a lilt to his withered mouth. He schooled his features almost immediately, so fast that she would have missed it if she wasn't looking. He smirked at her.

He didn't know shit, but he didn't want her to think she had any kind of upper hand.

Her grandfather continued to remain a reprehensible coward. She let the door slam on her way out.

.

Alex was waiting impatiently against the bank of lockers across from the chemistry classroom. Her foot tapped against the linoleum floors and her fingers itched in a familiar way. It was her body's way of telling her that it wanted to stab something. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth until it was sore. Alex found it strange that Gerard had no idea about her fateful trip to Scotland, Alex had assumed he had either been the mastermind of whatever had been done to her or at the very least, been aware of what had happened. But her grandfather had tells; cracking his knuckles, a pattern of blinking, tapping his foot. Alex knew them all and had catalogued them as she spotted them. The poor bastard was of absolutely no use to her, but he would have no trouble making himself a pain in her ass.

He had made that clear enough.

The shrill wail of the bell made her stand up straight, craning her head over the line of students exiting the classroom. Stiles, Scott and Allison rushed out in a sloppy formation around Lydia who was looking exceptionally annoyed at the three of them. Surprisingly, Jackson followed behind the foursome looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

Alex fell into step with them, catching Stiles' eye as she leaned into Scott to whisper, "What happened in there?"

"Nothing good." Scott answered, "They managed to get her to ingest Kanima venom. She wasn't affected at all."

"Ingest . . . Jesus, what kind of science class . . ." Alex interrupted herself realizing that now was not the time to jump into a critique of the Beacon Hills High curriculum. "We'll circle back to that." Scott glared, "Seriously, nothing? She didn't even cough, or sneeze?"

"Nope." Scott answered, eyeing the hallway with a frantic kind of nervousness. "Erica and Issac are out for blood."

"So, what's the plan?" She whispered.

"I have to talk to Derek - I have to make him understand." Scott whispered back, urgently. He looked panicked, which wasn't good. He needed to keep it together for the sake of his friends. "I need you, Stiles and Allison to go to my house - fortify it. Protect Lydia."

"Maybe I should go with you." She suggested, "Derek might listen if we tag team him."

"They need you." He gestured in front of them where Stiles was throwing curious glances back towards them, Allison was walking with her head high and an arm through Lydia's elbow. Allison was new at this and Stiles, though great with a bat, was not ready for an attack like this. Alex knew Scott was right and squared her shoulders.

Lydia was bombarding the them with asinine questions that no one wanted to deal with. Stiles was coming up with lame excuses that Lydia was obviously not buying and half way through another question Jackson growled low, grabbed Lydia's arm in a bruising grip and shoved her forward.

"Move." He hissed.

Alex was on him in an instant. She'd pressed one of her ring daggers painful hard against his groin. He yelped at the pressure and looked down at her hand and the glint of sharp silver. He let go of Lydia and put his hands up in the air in a show of surrender. Allison, seeing the conflict kept walking ahead with Lydia while Stiles and Scott moved in front of Alex and Jackson to obscure the scene from any onlookers.

"If you touch, speak or breath near Lydia in any way I don't like - I'll neuter you." She spat, digging the tip of her weapon into the sensitive skin. Jackson's breath hitched at the bite of her dagger. "I don't have to use these either." She continued dangerously. "My bare hands, a rusty pair of scissors. Either way, I'll enjoy it."

"You crazy bit-" He cut himself off, which she imagined was hard for him to do, when she pressed her weapon a little harder. Entitled as he was, he'd probably never had to bite his tongue or watch his words.

"Ah ah, Jackson." She put her dagger back in its holster, but held him in place. "We haven't been formally introduced, but I kill for sport. So don't test me. Okay? Hands off the strawberry blonde."

She smirked triumphantly and she beckoned him to keep walking, Scott and Stiles parting for him. Jackson walked quickly to catch up to Allison and Lydia, throwing a concerned look over his shoulder at her. She grinned toothily at him (it may have been more of a snarl) and he picked up his pace.

Stiles and Scott who had watched the exchange with equal parts horror and excitement both turned to each other after Alex had strutted down the hall. Stiles clapped Scott on the shoulder with a glazed over look in his eyes and a grin nearly splitting his face in two. "I totally love her, dude. I'm in so much trouble."

"So not the time." Scott smiled.

.

Alex, Stiles, Allison, Lydia and a very reluctant Jackson spent fifteen abnormally silent minutes in Stiles' Jeep on their way to Scotts. Everyone but Lydia was tense, eyes on the road expecting the worst. Stiles thrummed his hands on the steering wheel while Jackson huffed annoyed at the sound in the passengers seat. Lydia was slotted between Allison and Alex in the backseat and she was prattling on about her up coming birthday party.

When they finally pushed the door of Scott's house open, Alex was surveying the area with a careful consideration and Lydia looked at her with slight confusion until Jackson approached her slowly.

"Lydia," Alex turned her pointed gaze on him the instant her name left his mouth, "May I speak to you for a moment?" A pause, another look towards Alex, "Please?"

Lydia peered at him like he'd just grown a second head. When she finally snapped out of it she said, "Sure."

They headed up the stairs, Jackson looked back to chance another glance at Alex. She was twirling her ring daggers in that impressive too-fast-for-the-human-eye way. It was intimidating and when Jackson visibly gulped she let out a low chuckle at his expense.

Stiles was eyeing her with a hint of amusement but mostly awe, and eventually turning back to the door to keep watch when Alex had caught him staring. Allison was scowling at her like Jackson was some kind of Saint and she had greatly offended him.

"Don't you think you've frightened him enough for one day?" Allison glowered, dropping her purse to the ground. "You're lucky no one saw what happened in the hallway. Were you always this careless?"

"Apparently not enough for you to catch on." Alex quipped, cruelly. "Besides, contrary to popular belief, I'm not lucky - I'm discreet."

Stiles began to laugh from his spot staking out the front door. "No." He managed to get out through raucous rounds of laughter. "You're not." He wiped away an imaginary tear and quickly refocused his attention out the window. "Did your grandfather have anything interesting to say?"

"Just the usual pile of bullshit." She shrugged, peering out the window through the small sliver of space between the curtains. The sun was just starting to set and Alex felt a chill creeping up her spine. Derek was theatrical, a known fact really, so dusk would probably serve as a perfect backdrop for whatever he was planning.

"Did you mention Scotland?" He pressed.

"I threw out a feeler." She offered, "Nothing."

"What are you two talking about?" Allison demanded, an irritated edge to her voice. She was irked about being left out - she really had an issue with that particular feeling as of late. For obvious reasons.

Stiles looked at Alex as if to say, "Your secret - you gunna spill it?"

"Stop doing that!" Allison huffed.

"Doing what?" Alex asked, genuinely curious as to what she could have done to piss off Allison in the past 3 seconds.

"Communicating non-verbally." She stressed, "It's annoying."

"We'll do our best." Alex scoffed.

"What about Scotland?" Allison continued, circling back.

"It's nothing."

"We're on the same side now, you don't have to lie." She scolded. She flinched dramatically when an upstairs floor broad creaked. Alex's focus was laser-like, she was up and off the couch in record time, daggers at the ready. Stiles gave his bat a few practice swings.

"You can barely look me in the eye." Alex argued, "And, I'm not lying. I just don't trust you - and I know you don't trust me."

"Then be honest with me and I might!" Allison's voice was bordering on desperate and Alex so didn't have time to hash out their family drama again. Right now. It was becoming a viscous circle of fighting, verbal sparring and heated looks - when they were already dealing with so much it seemed a little petty.

But Alex always had a hard time controlling her anger and the resulting words that came with it.

"Don't pretend this is about me." Alex hissed, rounding on Allison with a glare so fierce she stepped away from Alex. "You're in over you head. I can see it. You're scared. People are dying. Monsters are real. To top it all off, you're lying to dad and you know when he finds out, because he will, he'll kill your secret werewolf boyfriend." Alex took a breath to ground herself. "And the one person you want to talk to about it, is the same person you've decided is dead to you."

The air in the dark living room was charged with animosity as the two sisters stared defiantly at each other, Allison looking pale. Alex had hit a nerve, obviously. It wasn't hard for Alex to put herself in Allison's shoes and had their roles been reversed, Allison would be the one person Alex would rely on. They were sisters, and prior to moving to Beacon Hills, they were best friends.

Another thing her family ruined, she thought, bitterly.

The stand off was interrupted by Stiles, jumping back from the window also suddenly he nearly tripped backwards over the coffee table. He steadied himself before falling face first into the carpet.

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed, eyes wide. "I think they're here." He stepped forward, after calming his racing heart and peered out the window again. "Yup. Yes. Definitely here."

"Allison, find Jackson and Lydia." Alex instructed, game face firmly in place. "Protect her." Allison nodded. "Stiles? Bat at the ready?"

Stiles nodded, perfunctory and gripped his bat with both hands, brandishing it like a sword. "Never leave home without it."

Allison's quick steps up the stairs faded as she got further away and Alex was suddenly struck with an overwhelming sense of panic. This was the first time she'd gone into a fight with her sister. She fought down the bubbling sense of anxiety, trying to banish the thoughts of Allison getting hurt - or worse. She had a crossbow with her, compact and small but it would get the job done. She hoped her aim would make up for her lack of experience. There had been a reason her father hadn't put Allison out on the field yet, even though she'd passed the age where Hunter's normally started - Allison was soft, emotional and not ready. Her breathing started to get a little frantic and her heart was hammering in her chest. She always knew she was a place holder until Allison took her rightful place at the head of the metaphorical table - but this feeling, the one where she was all too aware that she could lose Allison, was new.

When Isaac kicked in the front door Alex channeled all of her negative energy into aggression.

Scott's door had nearly been blown off of its hinges at Isaac's arrival and he stood in the middle of the wreckage with glowing yellow eyes. He dropped to his haunches as he took in Stiles and Alex standing in front of him.

He lunged.

Alex easily dodged his attack, sinking low to the ground with her ring daggers poised for a fight.

"Where's Erica?" She yelled to Stiles as she dodged another amateur attack from the newborn pup.

"She was right behind him a second ago!" Stiles called back, barely managing to duck under a roundhouse kick meant for Alex.

Isaac growled low in his throat and began swinging his claws in a speed that could only be described as supernatural. Alex launched herself into an impressive backbend to avoid a claw, she swung her legs over her head and landed a foot away from Stiles who was clutching his bat that had been broken in half.

"Is it just me?" She panted, "Or has he gotten better at this?"

Isaac responded by coming at her quickly, springing forward on his hind legs and using his brute strength to send her flying into the wooden railing that ran perpendicular to the staircase. It snapped as she crashed into it and white hot pain blossomed in her back, running the length of her spine. A few stray pieces of wood had lodged itself in her skin and her vision blurred momentarily.

Stiles called her name, rushing to her side. She felt his hands on her and tried to reassure him that she was fine but she couldn't form words around the intense pain in her back. She groaned and managed to move slightly only to see Isaac advancing towards them. Stiles took the opportunity to clip the werewolf in the head with his splintered bat.

Isaac's head snapped to the side, but other than that he was completely unfazed by what would have been for any other person, blunt force trauma. Isaac turned his attentions to Stiles, snapping his huge canines at him, while seemingly forgetting about Alex.

"Run." She growled out, pushing herself up from the awkward angle she'd landed in. Stiles sent her an agonized look, not wanting to leave her but he eventually did as he was told and took off running into the kitchen. He grabbed one of Melissa's good butcher knives and hoped that he would survive long enough to hear the lecture he was surely going to get if he ruined it. He crouched low behind the island in the centre of the kitchen and listened closely.

"Stiles," Isaac sing-songed, "I can hear your heart beating. I can smell how scared you are." Stiles heard s few footsteps coming his way. "Neat trick, huh? I can smell Alex's blood, too. Flowing out of her. Like it wants me to taste it."

Stiles grimaced at the thought while he tried to slow his breathing and steady his heart rate. His grip on the knife was bruising, turning his knuckles white. When Isaac's footsteps got a little too close for comfort Stiles slid to the other side of the island. When he peered around to get a better look into the living room Isaac's face appeared in front of his, snarling.

"Boo."

Isaac had Stiles by the neck, lifting him up off of the ground. A cruel grin made its way onto his face when Stiles made a choked garbling noise.

"All we wanted was Lydia, you know?" He laughed, "You stupid little shits have no idea what you're dealing with-"

Isaac's speech was cut comically short when Alex, bleeding from a horrifically sized piece of wood protruding from her back, swung one half of Stiles' bat up in-between Isaac's legs. He went down hard, letting Stiles go as he dropped to the floor with a wail of pain.

Stiles spluttered his lungs desperate for air. Alex fell to her knees, the energy it had taken to crawl into the kitchen and swing the bat had been too much. The large splinter of wood had narrowly missed her lung, which was good, but it might have a cracked a rib or two and she was having trouble staying conscious. Stiles reached out for her, and she reached back for him. He helped her up from the floor, and she gave a strangled whimper when she tried to straighten her back. Black spots danced in front of her and she figured they might be pretty if she gave herself enough time to watch them - but as it was, they needed a better plan than that.

"You okay?" He asked, eyes flitting back and forth between her eyes and her back. "Alex, talk to me okay? Keep talking to me." She was leaning heavily into his side, allowing him to help her.

"Living room." She grit out despite the pain, "Get to the living room."