Chapter Text
The whole of Beacon County was new territory to Timberly. She wasn't from here, rather further east and north, in the mountainous and cold state of Montana. Her pack had made the journey over the Rockies into California only from force: Olivia Cadieux. A werewolf huntress who had made a living off of using werewolves to hunt other werewolves. Timber could remember the few times she had encountered other families, how they had looked at the Cadieuxs and her own fellow wolf. Like they were abominations, something that should have never existed, and in a way she understood it. What werewolf hunter keeps werewolves?
There had only ever been four of them, and an assortment of people that worked directly with Olivia. She hadn't seen the other two in days, but the third, her Alpha, Timber had seen just a few nights ago. It was fresh in her memory, the sharp, metallic scent in the air, the dark red blood that had Tala's fur sticking straight up, spiked. The blade. The reek of Argents. She hadn't witnessed it, but she had felt it. Like chains being lifted from her neck and shoulders, her head clearing, but her heart dropping straight to the ground. Tala had been kind to her when the others hadn't, when Olivia had beaten her so bad once that the healing was struggling to keep up with the whippings. Tala had come with her from the ring, and Timber had joined her as her Beta willingly.
They'd left for California once the news of Kate Argent's death had reached them and arrived in time to stumble across a new series of killings. A werewolf was speculated, from conversations with the Argents, but Tala disagreed. Werewolves didn't kill humans like this for no reason. Or so she'd like to believe.
The night she found her dead, Timber had been out with her and some mouse-like new hire for Olivia. It had been chilly, but the ground had been moist, making excellent conditions for Timber to track in, and since she had the best nose out of the pack, that's what they had her set out to do with Tala for some added umph. They'd split up, the tracking collars around their necks making it easy for Mouse to keep an eye from a distance. Timber had actually been on the trail of a werewolf when she smelt it. Tala. Blood. Death. She'd pinpointed it, found the large werewolf fell with an incurable wound in her gut. Split in half. A blade. It had to have been the culprit. And the Argents. She'd heard plenty of Gerald from Olivia.
Despite the fear in her body, Timber recognized a rare thing had occurred: she had nothing to lose. Tala was dead, she didn't care about the other two, and the hunter assigned to watch her was too far away to do anything about it. No longer under the influence of an Alpha she cared about, Timber had tore off that tracking collar and split.
That left her to where she was now, wandering the woods of Beacon Hills and keeping closer to the town than she would have liked. While she hadn't picked up on the Cadieuxs having any sort of recent activity, the Argents were out in full force with their tech. They hunted deeper in the woods, though, and she found their blind spot on the difference between rural and urban. It was harder to hide from human eyes as a somewhat bi-pedal, six foot something wolf-woman, but it was better than being in the heart of the woods and risking an altercation with the rivaling hunters.
Dangers all around meant a need to flee, and Timberly couldn't convince herself to do it for some reason. She knew she could just cut loose and high tail it out of California, head north, join a pack and live out her days like almost every other werewolf would, but she couldn't escape the feeling that there was something more for her to do here. Anytime she stared out to the north of the county, her hackles would raise between her shoulder blades, and no matter how hard she tried to step any further, it wouldn't happen. All this meant was she needed to figure out what was keeping her here, and that came with the addition of figuring out how to be more subtle. She needed to blend into the town, but being sixteen and without a guardian would mean unwanted attention from the local police station.
So, tonight, Timber continued her "normal" routine of mostly hiding on the woods that bordered a highway, but the recent smell of a coyote had peaked her curiosity enough to draw her away, deeper into the woods. She slid down a hill, pausing beneath a leaning tree with exposed roots. The scent was a bit stronger here, indicating that said coyote had rested here for a while, and she couldn't quite blame it. It looked cozy, but a little too small for herself to comfortably sprawl. She might be able to curl up into as small a ball as possible and fit, but she doubted it. Her tail wagged a little at the thought, absentmindedly nosing some fallen foliage with her nose to get a better whiff of the earth underneath.
The sounds of something approaching through the woods interrupted her. Her ears immediately flicked backwards into uncertainty, and she pulled her narrow head out from under the roots to look around, audits now perked to see if she could hear a potential threat before it got her. She hoped it was the coyote, worried it would be a hunter, and didn't expect... a werewolf.
A hulking one on all fours with broad shoulders. She could tell by scent alone it was male, and even in the dark she could see his fur was like hers. Dark, but not black, and where hers leaned more gray, his dipped into a rich brown.
"An Omega?" Was her first thought, followed shortly by wondering if this was their killer. That was quickly discarded, though. Unlike her own, which were shamefully blue, this guy's eyes were yellow. Unless he was killing murderers (which was, arguably, justified to her), he hadn't killed anyone.
Uneasiness settled right in her bones as Timber remembered that there was at least one other Alpha in these parts, and she realized her previous assessment of him being an Omega might've been wrong. An idea only proven slightly further right when he rose to be bi-pedal, showing off just how much bigger than her he actually was. See, werewolves were a lot like bears. They maintained a lot of their human-ness limbs, with five fingered, half paw half hands, and half paw half feet rear ends. What changed the most was the fact they tended to grow top heavy, but muscular shoulders and necks for tearing, and large chests to accommodate lungs that grew for stamina. Standing and even walking bi-pedal was accomplished easily enough, but for most locomotion, they preferred to be on all fours.
Timber instead lowered herself slightly, ears flattening against her cranium and tail starting to tuck. Reflexively, her lips started to curl back to reveal her ivory teeth, a warning that she could, should she have to. Her opponent didn't take this too well, confirming two things at once in her mind before he charged: he had an Alpha because he was bitten, not born. He didn't get wolf body language yet like a seasoned turned would or someone born. She fell into the latter category, for anyone curious.
He was deceptively fast, but she was faster. Timber produced a snarl deep within her chest and throat, ducking low and to the side so her ribs took most of the force and left her face free. She dropped herself down, and he seemed to trip on her, teeth missing her entirely and forcing him to focus more on catching his balance as they rolled. With a combination of luck and skill, Timber ended up mostly on top and free, and against her desires, she bit down onto the space between his shoulder and neck.
He yelped, and Timber's shoulder lit up with sharp, hot white pain, but this was something she was used to ignoring, especially in fights of life or death. She wrenches her head back and forth, and the other werewolf finally finds his footing, and pushes himself so he's on top. She unhooks her teeth from his shoulder, tasting blood on her tongue, and then uses his own body to sort of shimmy up the ground so she can take her back feet and tuck them on his chest. She wounds back and kicks forward, throwing him off of her and into the roots of the tree. There's a loud thud, he slumps to the ground, and there's a dull ache in the back of her head.
Before she can check herself out, a tawny brown werewolf launches himself from behind the leaning tree, and she sort of catches him, initiating a mostly bi-pedal fight. She grimaces as she ducks side to side, his teeth making audible snaps in either of her ears.
"I don't want to fight!" She reaches out through the Aura, the telepathic wave length werewolves in close proximity can tune into to communicate with one another. It took practice and focus to be able to do it for pups and just bittens, though it came naturally to her. Tawny didn't stop, however, rising on his toes to try to tower over her and use his weight to push her down. Another new one. Great.
She takes the opportunity push upwards on him and sweep a leg forward at the same time, knocking one leg out from under him skillfully, even if it strains herself. He falls like a log, and Timber disentangles herself so he doesn't take her down with him. While he's stunned, she grips the loose skin on his back, leans into her rear, and half throws him away from her to put distance.
Her chest heaves with exertion, pale eyes falling onto the frame of the blonde werewolf she threw him at. A female. Both of them stare back at her angrily. Both yellow eyes. By now, she figured that the Alpha of the region was new and was rapidly expanding his pack, which would explain why they were sloppy fighters and weren't listening to the Aura.
"Can we talk, please?" She tries anyways, and her shoulders slump in defeat as the pale wolf throws herself at her. Timber allows herself to fall backwards, rolling with the other she-wolf away from the males and through the woods, all the while the two of them snapping and landing bites on each other, Timber feeling twice as much of it as the other.
They come to a stop only when she gets sick of it, the pain starting to bring fear into her stomach as she comes to the realization that even if they were clumsy, she was out numbered, they were aggressive, and their Alpha couldn't be too far behind them. She needed to move, she needed to get away from it. She finds her footing, bringing the two of them into a rear, and briefly locks eyes with the other before throwing her full weight at her. Timber was bigger, just barely, and Blonde collapses. Timber grabs her wrists, pinning them down, prompting a roar from the underdog. She roars back, frustrated, fearful, and then pushes away from her to turn and run. Blonde is too quick for the movement and sinks claws into Timber's mid back, tearing downwards with claws that eventually catch on her hip bones. She screams.
Her whole body rotates, an open palm landing a painful strike across Blonde's face, of which Timber feels both in her cheek and her paw pads. This sends the other sprawling across the forest floor, but she recovers quickly. With blood dripping down both of her sides, Timber holds her ground, hips shaking with pain as her healing starts to kick in, but not nearly fast enough. She worries she might have to kill one of them to get them to leave her alone.
The small Blonde rears up, revealing the other two racing to catch up behind her. As she starts to inhale to snarl, Timber braces herself to prepare for the worst.
A roar sounds, but not from any of the three in front of her, and she watches as the two males skid to a stop and the Blonde shrinks down immediately. She recognizes the behavior. The roar too, she felt it in her gut, fear immediately floods her entire body, and she turns to bolt, but has to slam on the brakes before she can even gather her legs underneath her. She comes face to face with a hulking, jet black mass, with a little white on his chin. Crimson eyes bear into hers as she hunkers, ears pinning and tail pinning.
"Please. I haven't done anything," she pleas. Wolves are territorial, but sometimes, just sometimes, a particularly benevolent Alpha might let a wandering Omega go.
"Are you sure?" It sounds accusatory, and she knows he knows what her eyes mean. Maybe they all do. She racks her brain, comes to a conclusion:
"I'm not killing anyone. I'm looking for them," she knows better than to full on lie, but a half truth will suffice.
There's a heartbeat of silence between all of them. She starts coming to terms with everything, including that time she intentionally walked into the boys' bathroom when nobody was in there and she was a kid because she was curious about what it looked like. Especially her sins and what she had done to survive, but particularly especially about that one time she accidentally stepped on a cat that was just trying to love on her. This was surely going to be the end of it. At least it was by werewolves and not hunters. They wouldn't let her suffer.
"We are too." Wait, huh? There's a softness in his voice that Timber is barely picking up on, but his expression reads pissed off. She dares to take a step back, ears starting to perk.
"I can help. I... I'd like to help," this was the truth. Nobody should be dying, werewolf killer or not. Besides, she needed a pack if she was going to survive, and even if the other three had tried to kill her, these guys were also looking for the killer. They were far safer than being out here alone and if she could also help them in protecting innocent people and clearing werewolf names from hunters, then she was willing to give them a shot.
"Are you asking to join?" He just has an asshole voice, Timber decided then and there, since it sounded like he was combative about the idea.
"More asking for refuge. I'm sure you know there are hunters."
"Yeah, I know." Timber watches his gaze finally look up from her and at his pack. She can't tell what he's thinking, his body language unreadable, but she hopes he's considering her proposal. After a bit, he sighs and rolls his shoulders back.
"Come on. We're better together," he doesn't wait to see if she follows as he turns around, skulking off towards the city. Timber lingers where she stands for a bit, ears perking up fully as she watches him, hope starting to soar in her chest. She pays no mind at first to the trio as they pass her, following their Alpha without any argument, but eyes them curiously as the dark brown and blonde wolf lean on each other. They already seemed a lot closer and more in sync than her previous pack. Maybe because they formed under kinder circumstances. She shakes off her coat to un-stress, blood spraying the foliage around her, and half limps after them.
The journey back to the subway station had managed well enough without incident, and Timber had been given clothes courtesy of who she now knew as Erica and Derek. The other two boys were Boyd and Isaac.
While Erica and Boyd were talking quietly among each other, Timber was getting a brief run down of everything from Isaac when they had gotten there: He, Erica, and Boyd were turned willingly by Derek, they all attended school, Isaac was initially blamed for the murder of his father by both police and the Argents, but Derek had gotten up and close with it and knew it to be a kanima, which was apparently like them but... not?
"Wait, just so I'm following, the kanima is a werewolf but reptile? A were-lizard?" Timber interrupted him, brows furthering together in confusion. She had hunted a few supernatural beings in her life before, but this was the first time she'd encountered that.
"Uhhh..." Timber wasn't sure Isaac was actually forming a thought, but he might've been close. "Yeah, were-lizard!" Oh, he was. Timber blinked a couple of times, subconsciously twirling one of her dark curls around her finger. She puffed her cheeks and exhaled.
"Okay... and the kanima is killing people?"
"Mhm."
"And it can't swim."
"Yep."
"Is it rabid?" The avoidance of water, the aggression, it all checked out. Werewolves only became vicious like that on full moons.
"No. Wait, maybe? No. Probably." Isaac answered her and Timber snorted at his indecisiveness, but nodded along.
"Okay, cool, a rabid- possibly- were-lizard is running amok killing people for no immediately apparent reasoning, there's hunters that think it's a werewolf and are trying to genocide them, and we are now looking for the were-lizard. Am I missing anything?" A recap mostly entirely to make sure she was understanding correctly. She watched Isaac think for a second, and when he shook his head she exhaled, relieved. A lot to catch up on, and the note that the Cadieux were not mentioned was not lost on her. Either they didn't know about them or they weren't a big enough problem yet. She decided she'd tell them about the other group of hunters soon, but she had an additional pressing question to ask first.
"Do we have... any leads on who it might be?" Isaac leaned back in the chair he sat on, hands clasped on the back of it that he'd been resting his chest on.
"Actually, yes, we think it might be-"
"Lydia." Derek's voice interjected as he stepped out from the train car, catching everyone's attention. Timber bit her cheek, racking her memory in an attempt to put a description to that name. When nothing appeared, she turned her dark brown eyes to Isaac, flashing him a look. He shrugged and avoided her eyes, giving her no hints, so she turned back to Derek expectantly: "Lydia?"
"A girl from our school. She's the only one who wasn't affected by the saliva," Erica pipes up in a tone that makes Timber's skin crawl with annoyance. She casts Isaac another look of "what the hell."
"We can't let her live," Derek continues, his eyes falling on each and every single one of them. "Tomorrow, by any means necessary, we finish this quickly. No one else gets hurt."
Timber felt her shoulders sag at that, a deep frown forming on her face. From one hunting mission to the next. Seems like that's all life was. Eliminating some supernatural threat for somebody else, but she was going to remain hopeful. Maybe they wouldn't even have to kill this Lydia, even if Derek seemed absolutely certain he had to. Then again, maybe she should follow the lead of the other three, since they also appeared to have full faith in this plan.
"Timberly, is it?" She focuses back on Derek, nodding. "Are you with us?" She can't tell if he picked up on her reservations or if he was genuinely concerned for her well being, but what she knew for certain was that this was her pack now. It was normal to be concerned, but she shouldn't doubt too much. Derek took her in, after all.
"Of course." Her voice feels small, but he holds her gaze for long enough she knows he knows she's telling the truth. Satisfied, Derek gestures with his hands.
"Get some rest, then." Boyd and Erica get up to one of the other train cars. She herself gets up to follow Isaac, sheepishly, since he marches towards a different one and he is the closest thing to a friend she has here. He pauses in the aisle when he gets there, leaning his weight on one of the bars, and she thinks he's trusting it to hold his weight too much.
"I take it you don't have anywhere particular to go either?" He quizzes her and Timber tips her head into her shoulder, curls obstructing her view for a second before she shakes her head to clear it.
"No, not really," she looks past him to a pile of blankets on the floor, then back at him. He flashes her a friendly smile.
"I'll go see if there's any others," he eases past her and she shuffles to the side to get out of his way. She watches him for a bit and then slowly leans against the wall, sighing and sinking to the ground to sit, only just now realizing how exhausted she was. A lot had happened. She hadn't even fully grieved Tala, and she didn't feel the need to now. Not yet, at least. She couldn't really fully tell how she felt about Tala's death. Angry? Remorseful? Guilty, sad? Maybe all of the above. A part of her wanted to avenge Tala, but even with a pack behind her, she didn't stand a chance. Hunters had guns, electric prods, sound machines. They knew their enemy, and she knew them enough to know it'd take a huge pack and even then they'd probably barely win. The other part of her wanted to cry, but she couldn't really bring herself to do that either. She had just spent days wandering the woods as a wolf, got jumped, and then adopted into the pack that jumped her. That was a lot to happen, most of it in just the past few hours. And now, tomorrow, she was going to war for that same pack.
The idea of peace after that was nice, but there would still be hunters. There would always be hunters. There was no such thing as peace. Only in death or if you're a sneaky Omega.
A pile of blankets is deposited in front of her, and Timber looks up at Isaac. He crouches down to her level. She can see the concern starting to etch onto his face and he gives her a questioning thumbs up, to which she nods and gives a thumbs up back to him. This seems sufficient enough and he walks off to his makeshift bed, leaving Timber to make her own. She picks the seats closest to the door, using a few stray pieces of concrete to hold the blankets down as she drapes them over the seats. It takes two blankets to form a "roof" and allow one to drape over the section between seats and aisle and create a makeshift door, leaving two blankets for the floor itself. She's slept in worse conditions.
"Oh, wow. You're a lot more creative than I am." Timber looks over at Isaac, who has his head in the aisle.
"Nah, it's just a den. It's a wolfy thing," she smiles lightly, resting on her knees.
"I just tried to make a mattress with these. Now, I feel like I gotta rearrange my room. Can't be outdone." Timber laughs a little, shaking her head.
"You're new to being a werewolf. Still very human."
"Is that a bad thing?"
She thinks about it for a second, pondering, but not for long. The humanity in them is what differed them from monsters and basic animals. The wolf, humans.
"No." It's a definitive answer and he gives her a big smile before retreating to his not-fort, and she turns her full attention to her actual blanket fort. She crawls in, doing a weird dance on her hands and knees to fold one of the blankets over for padding and then crawling underneath the additional blanket. Ignoring that she can see under the seats, she turns her back to where Isaac rests and stares out of the train car into the railway depot, thinking, compartmentalizing, until she doesn't notice herself drifting off to sleep.