Night had fallen over the Argent house. Chris and Kate stood in the garage. Chris was bent over a workbench, inspecting a crossbow and a Desert Eagle. He checked the pistol carefully — ejected the magazine, counted the rounds, slid it back in, and holstered the weapon behind his back, concealed beneath his jacket.
"All set?" Kate asked, hauling a black duffel bag that looked heavy.
"Almost. Just checking the weapons," Chris answered.
"Always so thorough," Kate remarked, a playful edge in her voice. But the smile faded fast. "Shouldn't we be going after Derek Hale?"
"He's not our target. Besides, we've had no leads on him since you went after him."
"Oh, don't give me that. He vanished before I even got the chance," Kate shot back.
"Right. Anyway — did you brief the guys?" Chris sidestepped.
"Already done. Their radios are tuned to our frequency, and they're monitoring the police scanner. Anything suspicious comes through and someone calls the cops, we'll know."
Chris finished adjusting the crossbow, placed it inside a black case, and shut it.
"Put this in the car. I'm going to say goodbye to Vic and Alisson."
"Ugh. I always get stuck with the heavy lifting," Kate grumbled.
Chris turned, stepped back into the house, and made his way toward the kitchen. Victoria was slicing vegetables. The moment he walked in, she stilled the knife and faced him.
"It's time?" she asked.
"Yeah. Everything's ready."
"Take care of yourself. Be careful. If something happens to you, I swear I'll kill you," Victoria said, dead serious.
"I know, love. Don't worry. Just look after Alisson. Let me handle the dirty work."
Victoria smiled, then asked, "And the boy? He's really not going with you?"
"No. He said he'd stay home."
"Do you believe that?"
"Not entirely. But knowing his grandfather, I know he's prepared."
After a few more quiet seconds together, Chris left the kitchen and headed for the stairs. Before he could climb them, Alisson's voice came from above.
"You're going out?"
"Yes, sweetheart. Your aunt Kate and I are visiting some friends. Don't worry and don't wait up."
"Right… Be careful, Dad."
Chris turned and walked to the garage. But as the car pulled away, he didn't see Alisson watching from the living room window, a single thought running through her mind:
Something about all this doesn't add up.
Across town, Scott moved through the pitch-black streets, following the path Derek had given him. He walked on until he spotted the entrance to an abandoned subway line. He glanced around — no one on the street at this hour — and descended the stairs, thinking to himself:
Why does Derek always pick places that look haunted?
At the bottom, he found a wrecked subway car, falling apart and strangely lit. He tried to locate Derek among the shadows, but saw nothing.
"Boo!"
"Ahhh!"
Scott nearly jumped out of his skin. Derek had been right behind him, hidden in the darkness of the station.
"God, you almost gave me a heart attack! Why do you always have to hide?"
"Precaution, Scott. What if it had been the alpha instead of me? Concealing yourself and waiting for the right moment to strike is a skill I had to learn to survive."
Scott didn't argue. He just asked, "So, how are we doing this?"
Derek met his eyes.
"Come on. I'll show you."
Derek led him toward the subway car. The doors were already open, and most of the metal was eaten through with rust — this train had been rotting here for years.
"Sit," Derek ordered.
"Look, maybe this isn't even necessary. Maybe I can control it."
Scott didn't have time to say another word. Derek forced him into the seat, and while Scott was still stunned by the sudden move, he clamped the shackles around Scott's wrists and secured him to one of the subway poles. In that instant, a searing pain ripped through Scott — the cuffs were lined with countless screws that pierced straight into his skin.
As Scott struggled to process what was happening, Derek sat down in a chair across from him and said, "The pain will help keep you sane."
"Son of a bitch!" Scott spat. "I should've listened to Stiles. Coming alone to meet you was insane."
"The moon hasn't peaked yet. Hold on. I'll be right here if anything goes wrong."
And so the two of them waited. Derek stayed mostly silent, locked in total focus in case something went sideways. Scott, on the other hand, felt the moon working on him, and he hated to admit it, but Derek was right. The moon clouded his mind, stripped away every boundary, and pushed him closer to the wolf — while the pain from the screws wrenched his thoughts back.
The minutes crawled. The moon climbed higher, closer and closer to its peak, until it finally reached the apex. The moment the clock struck midnight, Scott felt something twisting deep inside him — something primal and feral. It was as if a beast was trying to claw its way out of his body.
He didn't even realize he had already shifted. His face had transformed, his eyes blazed gold, and his claws scraped against the metal. But the screws worked against him — they kept him from fully extending his claws. Even with his healing, he couldn't generate enough force to slice through the steel and tear himself free. For a few agonizing minutes, he stayed pinned in place.
While Scott writhed, Derek stood with his arms crossed, more focused on what was happening inside himself. He'd already been through this. He'd reached the full hybrid shift. The moon still affected him, but far less — like a poison his body had long since learned to tolerate.
Then Scott's phone rang, jolting them both. Scott grabbed it. Derek opened his mouth to say something — but Scott let out a guttural roar, hurled the phone away, and thrashed with such force that the chain let out a sickening crack. Derek shot to his feet to stop him, but it was too late. Scott broke free, shoved Derek back with monstrous strength, and bolted out of the abandoned station.
Derek, thrown across the room, recovered fast. He stared at the spot where Scott had been and saw the chains — his family's chains — snapped apart. That shouldn't have been possible. Even in poor condition, no beta who hadn't even achieved the true hybrid form should have been able to break them. His gaze dropped and found Scott's flip phone lying face-up, the screen still lit, displaying the message that had made Scott lose control completely. Derek read the words and breathed:
Damn it.
Not long after, somewhere else, Trevor was on his own mission. With the original plan scrapped, he'd switched tactics. He'd been circling Beacon Hills Hospital — where Derek's uncle was being kept. He'd only just arrived, but something already felt wrong. He stashed the whip inside his backpack and moved closer. Nothing. No reaction. There wasn't a single supernatural creature inside that building.
"You've gotta be kidding me. If I'd gotten here sooner… Damn bike."
He'd sworn to himself he was never using that thing again. Somehow, some way, he was getting a car.
Then his phone rang.
"Huh?"
He checked the caller ID.
Stiles.
He answered.
"Make it fast, Stiles. I'm busy."
"Trevor! Thank God I got you. The alpha, man… he got Scott's mom!"