A police station in Vermont receives a call, among a slew of calls they receive on any given day, and the information gets shoved to the back of the queue they have going. It's a crazy world out there now, and there's just not time to respond to every crime that's already been committed – only time to try to get to the ones that are in progress. There's no shame, they try to convince themselves, in dedicating manpower to saving people who still have a chance, rather than those already damned and gone.

This call is from a small hospital in town, however, regarding a young, unidentified woman who was brought in by ambulance hours ago, having sustained multiple injuries. She had been assaulted at night somewhere near the university campus.

In the time between this call, and an officer getting round to the hospital, the girl has fled in spite of her injuries and fragile state of mind. She's nowhere to be found, and though an APB is issued, there's no doubt in everyone's mind that she will not be found.

"And she was mugged late last night?" the officer asks the doctor and nurses who were assigned her case.

"Not mugged," one of the nurses corrects. "It was sexual assault, rape."

Later, once the harried, disillusioned officers have collected the evidence on hand and gotten statements from the hospital staff, they make their way back to the station.

"Poor bitch," one says. "It was a wonder she managed to escape in her condition."

"She's a werewolf, man," the other reminds him. "Nothing'll keep them down except for a bullet to the heart. Not even a gangbang."

"She's lucky she even made it that long without being caught for trying to pass herself off as a human."

The third, a quieter officer who had hung back thus far, is unsettled by the way they're talking about the young woman in question. He's human, by all accounts, but he doesn't understand how anyone could see werewolves as anything less than people themselves.

"But she didn't deserve it," he said quietly. "No one deserves that, werewolf or not."

The other two laugh perversely and shoot him down for his naïveté. He is briefly angered, but there's not much he can do anyway, so he hangs back and listens with discontent for the rest of the journey.

Across town, still dressed in lightly coloured scrubs, the girl is standing at a payphone, swaying on her feet. She's still in unimaginable discomfort, but refuses to think too hard about what happened to her. She dials the only number she can think of in the moment and waits as she listens to the dial tones.

"Hello?" the tired voice greets.

"Daniel?" Diana asks. There's no wobble to her voice, she hasn't shed a tear. Hasn't spoken a word since. She just feels cold and empty inside.

He notices immediately, as she knew he would. "Diana? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she lies. "I know we haven't spoken for a while, but I just wanted to know – could you come pick me up?"

Daniel's in Virginia in a motel, trying to sleep after a long week just outside of Richmond. Before he's even wiped the grogginess out of his eyes, he's up and getting dressed with his phone pressed to his ear. He tells her to wait for him, that he's coming and to stay out of sight and out of trouble. She doesn't even ask him to hurry, she just waits the ten hours of non-stop driving until he gets there. And once he does, they don't talk about it.

***

"Caroline," her grandfather says. "I need you to leave."

She's not sure she hears him right, when all is said and done. They've just finished breakfast and she's doing the dishes when he broaches the subject.

"I'm sorry?" she asks.

There're still suds all over her hands and up her arms when she turns to look at him. Senator Mason sees so much of his own daughter in Caroline, so it hurts him all the more when he makes to send her away.

"They're going to come for me, and your grandmother too, there's no avoiding it for us," he says. "I don't want you to have anything to do with those compounds – I need you to get out of here."

Caroline feels herself frown as the soapy water from her hands drips to the floor.

"They can't do that," she argues. "The bill hasn't been passed yet."

"I think you and I both know we're long past legalities and politics here, sweetheart. I just need to know that you're going to be safe if I'm going to go with them."

Caroline tosses her hair angrily and goes back to scrubbing dishes. She turns her back on her grandfather.

"Don't be ridiculous, if I'm leaving then you're coming with me, and so is grandma."

She feels her grandfather join her at the sink. She feels his apologetic look on the back of her neck. Caroline feels all of this but she doesn't care. She won't leave them.

"You know your grandmother is ill, she won't last very long on the run," he says gently. "Please listen to me, Caroline."

She bows her head, dropping the dish back into the depths of the sink. She feels, rather than sees, the tears that run down to the tip of her nose. It's a very quick turnaround from stubborn anger to crushing grief.

"I can't. You know I can't," she says.

"I wish it didn't have to be this way."

"I lost mom and dad," she says. "I just can't lose you too."

"I know, sweetheart. Believe me, I know."

"But you're going to leave me, anyway?"

"No," he says and pulls her into a hug. "You're going to walk away and you're not going to look back. Alright?"

She shakes her head against his chest, her arms crushed between them. Caroline feels like a child again, small and insignificant in her grandfather's arms.

"Yes, you are," he says. "You're a strong girl, Caroline, just like your mother and your father both were. You'll make it. I know you will."

"I don't want to leave you."

"No one ever wants to leave their family behind, sweetheart. But sometimes we have to."

After a moment more he presses a kiss to the top of her head. He looks ridiculous with her tear stains and soapy patches on his shirt, but Caroline can't find the humour in it.

"Now, come and say goodbye to your grandmother," he says sadly. "And then you're going to get your stuff and you're going to go."

Caroline nods stiffly and wipes the tears from her red, raw eyes.

An hour later, she's crying again, but she's crying on a bus on the way out of town, away from her future at Cornell as a pre-law student, away from her last family members. She's got fake documents with her that certify her as human as long as no one contests it with a blood test.

She doesn't know what to do, so she calls Stephanie, but it goes straight to voicemail. She calls Diana and finds the same. So she resolves to call Daniel, and he picks up, though she can hear the sounds of the highway in the background. It kind of sounds like he's speeding.

"Hey, Daniel," she says.

Her voice is ugly with tears and snot, but she can't find it in herself to care.

"Can I meet you somewhere?"

***

When Daniel sees the broadcast, he's five hundred miles from New York City at the very least, and has nearly a full day of driving on weighing on his eyelids and his mind. Caroline sees it first. She's the one that tells him to take a look at it. But Diana is the one who recognizes Stephanie.

With a jolt, Daniel realizes she's right. A deep, unsettling sense of foreboding thrills through him when he works out why the timeframe is so important. It was the facility.

By the time the first play through of the video concludes, Daniel is frozen, Diana's eyes have darkened and Caroline has a hand to her mouth in shock. He looks at his watch, already in motion. Before he can register what he's doing, he's already snatched up his duffel bag and is dialling Stephanie's cell number with his free hand. Neither of the girls has moved a muscle.

"Daniel," Caroline says quietly.

The phone rings and rings but no one picks up. Daniel's already trying again before the first words from the voice recording give him instructions. Caroline doesn't get up from her perch on the chair in the corner of the room. The phone rings unanswered again. As Daniel paces past the blonde-haired werewolf, she makes a gentle grab for his arm. He stops and looks down at her.

"Come on," he says. "We've got to go to New York."

Caroline frowns in regret. "Daniel, we'll never get there in time to save her, and you know it."

He looks at his watch and knows that he can't make a journey of five-hundred miles in the next five minutes. He looks at Caroline and sees the truth. He looks at Diana and sees the hopelessness in the situation. And if he looked at himself, really looked, then he would see blame. It was his fault, after all. Stephanie had been locked away, by herself, because of him.

He feels himself falling apart and there's nothing he can do.

"What are we going to do then?" he snaps. "Just sit here? Just drive away and – and what?"

"There's no shame in... in surviving," Caroline murmurs.

"You don't get it, do you? She killed another werewolf, and she never said a word. Now it's out there, and it's just proof that we're all blood-thirsty killers. Wolves are going to go after her for killing that girl," he yelled. "She dies, and we're all done. They kill her, and we're all prisoners on death row in those fucking compounds. We're the dogs in the pound waiting for a needle to the vein because we're a danger to society. Do you get that?"

Caroline doesn't rise up to the bait. Her blue eyes are hurt. Daniel realizes it's the most human he's ever seen her look. She's not wearing makeup, her eyes are still puffy and red, she has a dusting of freckles over her nose, her hair's falling out of a haphazard ponytail, and she's wearing worn out jeans and an oversized shirt.

"I get that," she replies, calm as can be. "But what are you going to do, huh? What could we possibly do to hold back hundreds of angry wolves? Even if we could get there in time, which we can't, what would you do?"

Daniel looks down at the phone in his hand. This time there's nothing he can do. Diana clears her throat, and they both look to her, suddenly remembering her presence in the room.

"Do we really have anything to lose if we try?" she asks.

Her voice is strong and even despite the flat expression in her dark eyes. Daniel thinks she's the last person he'd expected to be on his side about this.

"Kirsten's probably seen this by now," Diana said. "You work with her, right?"

Daniel nods mutely.

"Well, maybe we don't need to hold back hundreds of angry werewolves," she said. "Maybe we just need to... slow them down until we can get Stephanie and her family out."

No one says anything. They just stare at Diana, sitting cross-legged on the bed. She's dressed in a spare set of Caroline's clothes now, and they've ditched the scrubs. Sighing, she rises from her place in the room with an exasperated twist to the lips.

"You know, just because I –," she stops and takes a deep breath. "It doesn't mean that I'm some kind of invalid, okay? And I figure, well, Stephanie did stand up for me way back when we were all in high school and we knew nothing about each other. I might hate her for what happened to my father, but right now?" She crosses her arms and shrugs. "Right now, I want the right people to pay. And she's not that person."

Caroline looks to Daniel uncertainly, and he feels himself warming inside. An incredulous smile works its way onto his face.

"So call Kirsten and get in the car," Diana says. She swipes Daniel's keys off the table and strides toward the door, holding it open. "But I'm driving because you drive like there's still a reason to obey the law."

No one moves. Diana's eyes flash with the slow, predatory grace of a wolf.

"Well?" she huffs.

Daniel's out the door and on the phone without another word. Caroline hesitates, but soon they're all in the car and on the road once again.

 ---

It was midnight when I wrote the third scene of this thing but it got pretty intense. Looks like Diana has ideas other than what I had for these guys, so I've had to reevaluate the next few chapters. Thanks, Diana. What do you guys think of her now? Haha.

Also, sorry about the potentially upsetting subject matter in the first scene, debated putting up a warning but this whole storyline and it's nature is kind of dark anyway... if anyone believes I should, then let me know.

Thanks ever so much for reading and your endless support, I really appreciate it.