The Tell 1x05

The Tell 1x05

Episode 6

Being stuck at home with Michael wasn’t the worst thing in the world for Fallon. Would she rather be out with Noah and Stiles sitting in his police cruiser? Yes. But her dad has been apparently lacking quality time with his only daughter, and wants to “catch up.” His words, not hers. She somehow earned some freedom as Michae sent her out to go rent a movie from the video store about five minutes away from their house.

She shoots her dad a text, letting him know she arrived. Her plan was to get the Iron Man movie and just head back home. But to her surprise, when she removes her helmet and steps off her bike, Jackson is also walking into the store. Lydia sits alone in the car, adjusting her makeup in the mirror before taking her own phone out.

Before Lydia could spot her, Fallon rushes inside. It’s not that she didn’t want to talk to the strawberry blonde, it’s just that she knows she’ll get roped in to do something with the couple, and she doesn’t want to have to explain that she’s on lockdown.

The entire store is basically all window panes, which is a great advertising tactic as everyone can see their wide selection of merchandise. The tiny bell rings overhead as she walks in and her feet carry her to the superhero section on the right side of the shop.

She runs her fingers along the spines of each DVD before finding the one that she desires. She plucks it out with a grin, getting ready to go checkout. Or at least she was until she heard Jackson call out for some assistance.

“Can somebody help me find The Notebook?”

The brunette stops in her tracks. She could just continue on with her night, pretending she didn’t hear the boy. But seeing as no one else in the abandoned store is coming to his aid, she might as well do the nice thing.

She pokes her head around the corner, “Well, I’m pretty sure one of the biggest romance movies of all time isn’t gonna be in the sports section,” she says playfully, walking up to him.

Jackson turns around, surprised to see a familiar face. “Donovan,” he looks at her with wide eyes. He crosses his arms and frowns at her sarcasm, “Yeah, no shit. I think I know that.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she tilts her head before gesturing for him to come with her. “Follow me. It should be over here.”

She guides him around the corner and over to where the romance section is. It has to be the biggest part of the store which only makes it more humorous that Jackson still couldn’t seem to find it. Her eyes scan over all the disks, fingers running over each one as she searches for the Ryan Gosling film. No doubt Lydia’s choice in film as Jackson would never willingly see this on his own accord.

“I’m surprised you’re here by yourself,” the blonde comments with a hidden meaning. “I didn’t think your drug dealer boyfriend would be so lenient with you being out at night.”

Fallon furrows her eyebrows, her head snapping towards him, “I’m sorry?” She asks for clarification.

“The high-as-a-kite white guy who came into the school asking about you and Scott,” he explains with a disgusted look on his face.

Fallon realizes he’s talking about Derek. She shakes her head with a laugh, “I can assure you, he’s not my boyfriend.” She pulls The Notebook out of its rightful place on the shelf, handing it to the blonde.

He takes the DVD from her with a small nod, “Well, he seemed pretty pissed off when he couldn’t find you. He looked desperate. So I just assumed he was your boyfriend looking for a midday quickie,” he voices his thoughts. “Since you’re way too much of a goody goody to have a dealer.”

“First of all, you’re disgusting for even thinking I would stoop as low as a midday quickie. Second of all, if I wanted a dealer, I could get one,” she states confidently. “But I choose not to ruin my body or my life, so yeah.”

“I don’t think your boyfriend has the same concerns,” Jackson tells her as the two of them start to walk towards the checkout counter.

Fallon exhales loudly, “For the last time, he’s not my boyfrie–”

The brunette’s breath catches in her throat as they round the corner and come face to face with the dead store employee. She stumbles backwards into Jackson, the boy placing his hands on her waist to steady her. The man’s throat is ripped apart, his mouth hanging open as if he tried to scream for help but never got the chance to. Jackson tries to pull Fallon away from the scene, but ends up hitting the tall ladder behind them. It tips over, knocking down one of the light panels above their heads.

They scream as it narrowly misses falling on them. Fallon splutters, “W-we have to–” Jackson shushes her as they maneuver through the aisles. “He’s dead, Jackson,” she whisper yells. “We need to call the police.”

He shakes his head, pulling her towards the door as fast as he can, “No, what we need to do is get the hell out of here!” His face is pale and scared, similar to hers.

The two of them freeze in the middle of the store as the lights go completely out. Fallon clutches his hand tightly, him doing the same. A deep growl erupts behind the two and she can feel her insides trying to become her outsides. She and Jackson both slowly turn around and are met with a pair of glowing red eyes. Fallon swallows thickly as she tries to steady her breathing and pulse rate, but fear is the only thing on her mind.

Jackson yanks her to the side, pushing her up against one of the many shelves of DVD’s. Their backs are pressed firmly against it as they try to remain as quiet as possible. Fallon’s heart is practically pounding out of her chest, making her have an instant headache. She bites her fist as the Alpha’s loud footsteps echo around the store. A loud banging is heard and some discs fall on top of the two of them causing them both to tense up. Fallon peeks her head around the corner, trying to gauge where this thing is. Unfortunately, her search is cut short when every single shelf in the line up they’re hiding in starts to fall forward like dominos.

“Crap!” She exclaims, getting up on her feet to jump out of the way. She tries to pull Jackson along with her, but she’s too late. Right as he’s about to be in the clear, the last shelf snags his leg, crushing him with its weight.

Fallon rushes back to him, kneeling down as she tries to lift the shelf off of him. She grunts loudly, using every ounce of strength she has to try and free him. The shelf lifts slightly, but not enough to help get his lower half out. “Come on,” she pleads, continuing to power lift as much as she could.

The shelf suddenly becomes much heavier. Fallon yelps as her fingers are almost crushed by the shelf sinking down onto Jackson. When she looks up, she is staring into two bright red eyes. She swears her soul leaves her body at that moment. Its breath is hot against her face. The girl wants to run, scream, but she can’t move. It simply peers at her and Jackson, analyzing their every move. She’s paralyzed by her fear. The creature glances at Jackson before fully focusing on the brunette knelt in front of him. She squeezes her eyes shut as his claws graze the side of her face, but he doesn’t scratch her. Her chest rises and falls at a rapid rate as she processes what could be her last few moments alive. The Alpha leans forward, sniffing the brunette which makes her dig her nails into her hands to keep from making any sudden movements.

Suddenly he pulls away. She opens her eyes again and it looks as if he’s almost smirking at her. Like he knows who she is. Her mouth falls open as the werewolf growls loudly before running away from her and Jackson. He crashes into the front window panels, making his escape. The only thing Fallon hears is Lydia’s scream before trying to pull Jackson out once more.

—-

Fallon’s eyes are cloudy and distant as she barely tunes into the EMT talking to her. He tries to wrap a blanket around her shoulders but she slowly shakes her head, putting her hands up. “I’m okay,” she mutters lowly. “I just wanna go home.” Her voice sounds broken, like she’s crying but no tears are falling from her eyes. Lydia on the other hand accepts all of the help the paramedics give her. The strawberry blonde is more disheveled than her two counterparts. Jackson has a more angry aura about him. Fallon isn’t surprised that’s his method of coping with the situation. That seems to be his go to when he doesn’t know how to handle things. Not that she can judge. All she’s doing is shutting down which is no help to anyone.

“Paul, let’s get this area locked up.”

Life fills Fallon’s eyes at the familiar voice of Noah Stilinski. She feels a wave of relief wash over her when she sees him walking towards them. Noah’s eyes soften when he sees the terrified teen, “Fall? Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks gently, pulling her into a hug.

He can feel her shaking in his arms, but she still nods her head, “I’m fine. I just really wanna go home.”

“I know, kiddo,” he whispers. “But you know the drill. They gotta take you to the hospital to make sure there’s nothing seriously wrong.”

“Please?” She begs him. “I feel fine. I really just want to go. You can even take me,” she tries to propose.

He sighs, going to respond but is cut off by an angry Jackson stomping over to him. “Why the hell cant I just go home?” He asks irritably. He’s being asked to go to the hospital as well. “I’m fine.”

“I hear ya,” Noah says calmly. “But the EMT says you and Fallon took some pretty massive hits in there. They just wanna make sure you guys don't have a concussion.”

“What part of "I'm fine" are you having a problem grasping?” Jackson snaps, getting in Noah’s face. “Okay, I want to go home.”

“And I understand that–”

“No, you don't understand that, which kind of blows my mind, since it should be a pretty basic concept to grasp for a minimum-wage rent-a-cop like you! Okay, now, I want to go home!” The blonde screams.

“Jackson,” Fallon scolds him with one glare. “He’s just doing his job. It’s a basic process. I want to go home too, but we have to let them do their thing.”

Jackson goes to argue but their attention is diverted, “Oh, whoa! Is that a dead body?”

Fallon watches as Stiles points to the dead employee, vomit threatening to escape her lips as she sees his limp arm falling out from underneath the white sheet. Sheriff Stilinski sends his son a pointed look, huffing in annoyance, “Everybody back up. Back up,” he instructs.

She looks over at Stiles who seems to be struggling on deciding whether to get back in the car or to run over to his now traumatized best friend. Fallon makes the decision easier as she slowly travels over to him. He looks over her form, his heart breaking when he sees how scared she looks. She practically falls into his arms, wrapping her own around his shoulders. Her body trembles softly as small sobs leave her mouth.

Stiles looks shocked. Fallon isn’t a big crier. Not unless she has a reason. He holds her tightly, pulling her in by her waist. “I got you,” he whispers. “It’s okay, Fall. I’ve got you. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“It was him,” she managed to whisper. “The Alpha. He was right in front of me, Stiles,” she explains, wiping any evidence of her tears away. “He touched me, smelled me, and then he just ran away.”

He furrows his eyebrows, “What? Why would he–”

“I don’t know,” she answers quickly. “I don’t know why he did any of that. Or why he didn’t kill me and Jackson ‘cause he could have. He had every chance to. It doesn’t make sense.”

A fierce determination lights behind Stiles’ eyes, “Hey, we’ll figure it out, okay? We’ll talk to Scott.” He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, “Just don’t freak out too much, okay? I know you’re scared, but I promise, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“Stiles,” Noah calls out as he walks over to the two kids. Jackson is still complaining loudly making the sheriff sigh and probably have an internal breakdown. “Why don’t you let Fallon sit in the car with you?” He suggests. “As long as you promise that you feel fine,” he says to the girl.

She nods, “I do. I’m alright.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Then just give me a couple minutes to wrap this up and then I’ll drop you off at home, alright?”

Fallon surges forward, hugging the man again, “Thank you.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

After being dropped off by Noah and Stiles, her father had gotten a long winded explanation on what happened. So when Fallon decided to forgo the movie, Michael was more than understanding. He made her a bowl of popcorn anyway, allowing her to retreat up to her room for some much needed alone time.

She lays on her bed, her laptop quietly playing episodes of Gossip Girl to keep her distracted. She lazily takes a handful of popcorn, putting it in her mouth. She closes her eyes and relishes in the different seasonings and splash of lemon she puts on it. Stiles and Scot have always made fun of that little quirk of hers, but she can’t help loving it.

She tries to focus on the silky smooth voice of Chuck Bass, but the only thing her mind can seem to do is remind her of the dead man in the video store. His mutilated face plagues her mind, no matter how hard she tries to think of something else. She feels a high level of frustration, knowing that she can’t miss school tomorrow. Most of her teachers are understanding, but if she were to miss Mr. Harris’s class, she’d be screwed. He wouldn’t take pity on her even if she was in a full body cast.

Michael tried to talk to her after the Stilinski’s left, but she wasn’t very responsive. He tried to reassure her that nothing like that would ever happen again, but she knows that’s not true. The likelihood of running into the Alpha again, especially with her connection to Scott and Derek is high.

She just wishes she had more information. Like why the Alpha was there. Why did he kill that employee specifically, but spare her and Jackson? She could still see its blood red eyes staring into her soul. The way its claws touched her face made shivers run down her spine. Its hot, stinky breath still lingers on her skin. Did he pick up on Scott’s scent? Maybe Derek’s? She did just have his vomit plastered on her skin not too long ago.

Fallon sits up, staring at the now empty bowl of popcorn in front of her. She frowns, wishing she could still eat away her feelings. The urge to walk into the kitchen and grab a pint of ice cream is strong, but her desire to waste away in her bed rules out. She thought watching Serena and Blair argue for the fortieth time would be enough to make her feel something, but she just didn’t. Either she really is traumatized or she needs sleep.

She shuts her laptop, laying down on her wide array of pillows. She chooses the second option, figuring if the other one is true that she can decide that in the morning. She rubs her tired eyes, everything becoming blurry as sleep threatens to overtake her. Her desk in the distance looks like an oddly shaped blob, different papers scattered around it that she completely forgot about. She glances out the window, the only thing in sight is the stars and towering trees. The small amount of light from the waxing crescent shining through. She feels a sense of serenity, until suddenly the light is blocked by a looming figure standing in the way.

Fallon shoots up from her spot, immediately reaching for the pair of scissors on her night stand. She slowly inches around her bed as the figure opens her window. The glass slides open easily due to her bad habit of always leaving her window unlocked for Scott and Stiles. Right as the stranger sets foot in her room, she launches her entire body, scissors ready to stab whoever it is. A small gasp leaves her mouth as a hand grabs her wrist, spinning her around and pinning her arm behind her back.

She looks behind her, “What the hell?” She furrows her eyebrows, dropping the scissors to the floor. Her back is still pressed to his chest, him holding her in place. “You’re not the Alpha,” she breathes out.

Derek lets her go, gently spinning her around. “You thought I was the Alpha?”

Fallon nods with wide eyes, “Uh, yeah,” she states obviously. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but the thing touched me. He smelled me like I was a five course meal. It’s all I can really think about. So when I see a shadowy figure climbing through my window, that’s gonna be my assumption,” she breathes out, her chest heaving up and down from the adrenaline.

Fallon took the time to look the werewolf up and down. He looks exactly the same as he always does. Tight fitting t-shirt covered by one of his many leather jackets along with a pair of jeans. His hair is black and messy like usual. She never really took the time before to look at it. Maybe that’s what adds to his “stay away” personality. The dark and mysterious hair. She thinks back to the conversation she had with Stiles when Scott was on the bus. She really wouldn’t mind running her hands through it.

She shakes her head of the thoughts when she realizes she’s been just staring at him for an oddly long period of time. She crosses her arms over chest, “What are you doing here?”

Derek shrugs, “I was there with Scott,” he reveals. “I didn’t know you were in there until we saw the EMT’s pull you and Jackson out. I know you saw the body.” She swears his eyes soften for a moment before he asks, “Are you okay?” But she could’ve easily just imagined it. She nods her head silently and he tilts his own, “Can you tell me about what happened?”

She looks apprehensive at first, but ultimately decides it would be best for him to know everything. She sighs, sitting down on her bed. “I was there trying to find a movie for me and my dad,” she begins. Derek hesitantly sits down beside her on the bed, eyes staying on her form. He nods, encouraging her to continue. “Jackson and Lydia ended up being there. He asked for help trying to find The Notebook and I went to go help him. We found it and went to check out and that’s when I found the dead guy,” she explains. “After that Jackson and I ran into a ladder, almost got crushed by a lighting panel, and that’s when we saw the Alpha.”

“You said he smelled you,” Derek brings up. Fallon just nods silently at his words. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she admits quietly, the crease in her eyebrows becoming deeper. “I’ve been thinking about it. I thought maybe it smelled Scott since he’s a part of his pack and all. Like he has a sensitivity to Scott’s scent or something. But then I thought he might’ve smelled your scent because you kind of threw up all over me the other day,” she nudged him teasingly. “But what freaks me out is that it looked at me like it knew who I was. He had an almost smirk on his face. Like he got off knowing I was scared. I don’t know why he attacked that guy and left me and Jackson alone. I don’t know what his original plan was. Why he didn’t bite either of us,” she shakes her head as she continues to try and figure it out with her own logic. “It didn’t make sense. I mean, maybe he didn’t know who I was, but formed some sort of plan for me on the spot, I don’t know,” Fallon drops her hand into her hands, rubbing her eyes frustratedly.

“You think he might come back for you?”

“God, I hope not,” she laughs humorlessly. “That would be unfortunate.”

“If he bit you?” Derek wonders.

“Well…” Fallon huffs, “I don’t know. If he came back for me and killed me that would kinda suck. But I guess it wouldn’t be the most unfortunate thing if he bit me.” She shrugs, looking Derek in the eye. “It’s not everyday you get the opportunity to have the strength of a superhero.”

“So you’d be okay with it? If he were to try and turn you.” He looks almost perplexed with her outlook on it.

“I wouldn’t say I’d be okay with it, but I wouldn’t be trying to get rid of it like Scott has been,” she says. “I’d probably just be a little nervous.”

“You’re already nervous,” Derek points out.

“Thanks,” she rolls her eyes at his bluntness. “Trust me, I know.”

“But it’s impressive how you’ve been handling it,” he concedes.

She smirks slightly, “Did you just compliment me?” She questions playfully.

Derek rolls his eyes, “No. I’m just giving you credit. Don’t turn it into something it’s not.”

“Well, thanks for the credit that sounded a lot like a compliment,” she flops backwards on her bed, her head hitting the soft mattress with a small smile.

“Did you ever finish the book you were reading in the woods the other day?” He asks, seeming to be genuinely curious. “You looked pretty into it.”

Fallon looks at him, her irises flashing downwards in his direction. She pats the spot next to her, telling him to lay down too. She doesn’t think he’s going to by the unsure expression, but is pleasantly surprised as he lowers himself down. Now they’re both just staring at the ceiling, but for whatever reason, it’s comfortable.

“I did,” she answers. “I finished it the day after. I’m already almost done with the next one.”

“Do you ever not read?”

She nods, “When I’m playing lacrosse. Or studying. Or doing homework,” she lists off. “But other than that, I’m usually reading.”

He moves his head to the side so he can look at her, remaining on his back. “Why do you like to read so much?”

Fallon sighs. She feels herself about to open up and be vulnerable, and she doesn’t like it. It’s not Derek’s fault, it just usually takes a minute for her to say anything personal. Derek can sense her change in mood, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want,” he says stoically. “I was just wondering.”

“No, it’s okay,” she reassures him, flipping on her side to fully face him. “It’s just something my mom and I used to do a lot when I was a kid. She would bring a small cup of coffee for her and a hot chocolate for me, and we’d just sit at our kitchen table and read while my dad was away,” her eyes turn flicker with bittersweet memories as she recalls that time in her life. “She’s the reason I like to read.”

Derek doesn’t know the story behind Fallon’s mother, but judging by the aroma of sadness filling the room and the fact he’s never seen the woman, he can assume that she’s no longer around. Fallon suddenly feels very awkward at the sad shift in the atmosphere. “Anyway…” she clears her throat, “I’m like ten pages away from finishing The Prisoner of Azkaban, so, yeah. I spend a lot of time with my nose in a book.”

“Most of my family died in a fire,” he says. Fallon stiffens at his words. She already knew that, but he’s never said anything about it. At least not to her. She doesn’t know how to handle him saying something so intimate about himself. “My mom, my siblings. Some of them were human.”

She watches as his jaw clenches in anger, “It was the hunters… wasn’t it?” She asks softly, coming to the conclusion from the previous signs she’s gathered from speaking to him.

He nods, “The Argent’s.”

Then it all clicks, “That’s why you don’t think Scott should trust Allison,” she realizes.

“She’s going to end up just like them,” he stares back at the ceiling. “He’s gonna get himself killed by staying with her.”

“Maybe,” Fallon concedes. “But, maybe not,” she finds herself scooting closer to him. “You can’t determine who a person is just by their family,” she says wisely. “If we did, then we’d all be stuck. Individuality wouldn’t be a thing.” He brings himself to glance back at her as she speaks. “I mean, do you think you’re the same as all your family?”

He hates the fact she’s right. “No,” he answers simply.

“Exactly,” she pokes his side. “Hell, if I was the same as my dad, I wouldn’t be riding my motorcycle. And I love that thing.” She chuckles at her own comparison and Derek just watches as she returns to normal for a split second. Forgetting all that happened to her just a few hours ago. Once she stops laughing, her features soften again. “I am sorry though, Derek,” she tells him quietly. “No one deserves to go through what you have.”

He shrugs, “Nothing I can do about it now.”

“You can talk to someone,” she suggests. By the expression he makes, she can automatically tell that’s never even crossed his mind. “You have talked to someone about this right?”

“No,” he replies. “I’ve never seen a reason to.”

“That explains why you’re so freaking grumpy all the time,” she says. “You’ve seriously never spoken to anyone about it? Like, not even a friend?”

“I don’t have friends.”

A beat of silence washes over them. Fallon frowns at the thought of the man next to her not having anyone to rely on. He’s had to grieve his entire family, alone, for years. She never would have gotten through her moms passing if it wasn’t for her dad, Scott, and Stiles. The two boys might have come a bit after Grace’s passing, but they still helped her through it nonetheless.

She looks at him determinedly, “Well, now you do.”

Derek stares at her as if she has three heads, “What?”

She nods happily, “You said you don’t have friends. So it’s been decided… I’ll be your friend.”

Derek shakes his head, looking away from her. “No. I don’t need friends.”

“You’re getting one anyway,” she insists. “We don’t have to like sit here and tell each other about our day and braid each other’s hair or whatever, but I just want you to know that I’m here,” she explains. “I don’t expect a nightly phone call or anything dumb like that. But at least now you have someone you know you can talk to. Or not talk to, and just sit in brooding silence with,” she grins. “I know that’s more your speed anyway.”

“Why would you want that?” He questions warily. “You already have two idiots as your friends.”

“I can have more than two friends,” Fallon justifies. “And no matter how much you piss me off with your dark and mysterious demeanor, you don’t deserve to go through life alone,” she says seriously. “So it’s settled. We’re friends.”

Derek wants to fight it. He wants to tell her no and that she should be running away from him, not towards him. But there’s something about her. She’s easy to talk to. A little annoying, yes, but not insufferable to be around. He hasn’t even noticed that about an hour has passed since he’s arrived at her home. Having a friend still doesn’t seem like a possibility for someone like him. Everyone he’s ever cared about is gone. He doesn’t want to allow himself to get close to her in order to protect her. But arguing with her seems pointless. Her mind is set.

“Okay,” he nods. “We’re friends.”

Fallon smiles widely, “Good,” she moves up to the head of her bed, dragging him along with her as she grabs all of her Harry Potter books from her nightstand. She looks up at him, “Have you read any of these?”

He glances down at the thick pieces of literature, “No,” he admits. “I was more of a Chronicles of Narnia kind of person.”

“Well, not tonight you’re not,” she places The Philosopher’s Stone in his lap.

The book feels heavy on his legs as he looks at her with amused eyes, “I’m not reading this.”

“Uh, yes, you are,” she insists. “You’re gonna read the first ten pages right now and then you can come back tomorrow and read some more with me,” she tells him. “We can have designated silent reading time. I’ll read mine while you read this one.”

He denies, “No.”

“Yes,” she scoffs.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Please…” she begs him. “Just try it. I promise you’ll like it. And if you don’t, you can force me to read any book of your choosing.”

Derek’s interest piques at the offer, “How do you know I even read?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Reader’s intuition, I guess.”

Derek shakes his head. He narrows his eyes in consideration. “Fine. I’ll tell you what… I’ll read it. The whole thing.” Fallon’s eyes light up. “But if I don’t like it, I don’t have to read the rest of the books, and you still have to read a book of my choosing.”

“Hm… interesting proposal,” she considers it for a moment before sticking her hand out. “Alright, you got yourself a deal.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon silently works on her essay for English, writing it in her best handwriting as it is the final draft. Her and Stiles are currently in Mr. Harris’ chemistry class. The man just sits at his desk, no doubt grading their last assignment. He sends some disappointed and disturbed glares to certain students when he reaches their paper. Fallon wasn’t worried about it. She never struggled in chemistry. Her hand moves effortlessly from left to right. It surprises her that she hasn’t cramped up yet with how far she’s gotten.

The seat beside her was left empty. She assumes that Jackson didn’t come to school today because of last night's events. She didn’t blame him. But earning a lecture from Mr. Harris about slacking off wasn’t something she was in the mood for. He’s never liked her, and she assumes it’s because of her choice in friends. Not that she would ever care what Harris thinks of her. Truthfully, she finds it satisfying when she proves his snide remarks about her wrong by getting high grades in his class. Watching him fume as he writes a one hundred percent on her paper is the best revenge a girl could ask for.

Fallon huffs annoyed when the teacher finally stands. She was hoping he’d remain seated for at least a couple more minutes so she could finish her final paragraph. Reluctantly, she puts her essay back in her English folder before turning her attention back to Mr. Harris.

He claps his hands as he rounds his desk to address all of his students, “Just a friendly reminder– parent-teacher conferences are tonight! Students below a C average are required to attend. I won't name you, because the shame and self-disgust should be more than enough punishment.”

Parent-teacher conferences. The best and worst night of the school year for some kids. It truly is just a judgment ceremony. An opening for teachers to completely expose the kids who don’t put in a lot of effort. Even though they say it’s only for students with a C average, pretty much every child is forced to go because of their parents. Fallon knows she’ll have to be in attendance. Part of it is because her father loves bragging about how intelligent his daughter is, the second part is because he still doesn’t trust her to abide by the enforced curfew. She’s not worried about her grades in the slightest. Her perfectionism and inability to accept failure has forced her to have straight A’s since she was old enough to be graded by the letter system.

Mr. Harris stops by the desk where Stiles is sitting, the spot next to him empty. “Has anyone seen Scott McCall?” On a side note, Fallon’s pretty mad about that. He allowed Scott and Stiles to sit together after forcibly separating all three of them, but wouldn’t let Fallon move any closer.

Stiles shakes his head at the teacher, indicating he has no idea where their best friend is. The boy then returns to his chemistry book, highlighting every other sentence in a bright yellow. Harris glances at Fallon who simply shrugs in his direction.

The door to the classroom swings open and every eye in the classroom falls on Jackson as he saunters in. He doesn’t make eye contact with anyone, holding onto his backpack strap as tightly as he can. He rushes to his seat next to Fallon, setting his backpack on the floor. Mr. Harris approaches the blonde gently, “Hey, Jackson– if you need to leave early for any reason, let me know.”

Fallon can’t help but scoff as she scribbles down notes in her chemistry book. Harris didn’t even acknowledge her existence until wondering where Scott was. “Everyone, start reading chapter nine,” he instructs. “Mr. Stilinski,” Stiles looks up at the mention of his name, highlighter dangling from his mouth. “Try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It’s chemistry, not a coloring book.”

She snickers at her friend’s misfortune, but covers it cup with a cough as Stiles glares daggers at her from across the room. She blows a kiss at him before turning her attention back to her chemistry book, which has the appropriate amount of highlighting in it.

“I’m surprised you came,” Jackson comments quietly.

Fallon turns to him confused, “Why?”

“You seemed pretty shaken up,” he points out. “Just didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“Ditto,” she nods in his direction. “After all that complaining about wanting to go home, I assumed you’d stay there for a couple of days.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, a certain anger behind his eyes. “I can’t miss class. Not with lacrosse and stuff.”

“Yeah, I feel the same way,” Fallon admits. She notices his hands are still clenched rather tightly. Her lips turn into a frown, “Are you doing okay?” She asks quietly. “You seem… tense.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Obviously I’m tense. We got attacked by some weird ass creature at a freaking video store, Fallon,” he says through gritted teeth. “We saw a dead guy. The real question is, why aren’t you more tense?”

“I don’t know…” she mumbles. “I guess I slept it off.”

“Slept it off?” He shakes his head with a humorless laugh. “My ass, Donovan. You don’t just sleep something like that off.” He stares directly at her, making her feel like she has to make eye contact with him. “What? Did your doctor dad give you some medical marijuana or something to help you process?”

“Why does everything come down to drugs with you?” She narrows her eyes at him. “Did you ever think that maybe I just talked to someone about it? Like a normal person.”

“Who? McCall?” He asks, clearly digging for more information than just how Fallon coped with last nights ordeal.

“No,” she answers. “And it’s none of your business who I did talk with. All you need to know is that it helps, and maybe you should try it. With your girlfriend perhaps,” she suggests with a sarcastic tone. “Who also happened to be there and could probably use her boyfriend to comfort her.”

“She doesn’t want to talk about it,” Jackson says coldly. “She didn’t even bother coming today. Go figure,” he rolls his eyes bitterly. “She wasn’t even in the damn store and still needed the day off.”

“Everyone processes things differently, Jackson,” Fallon breathes out, not interested in hearing him complain about Lydia, who has been nothing but good to him since they started dating. “She just needs time to recuperate,” she finishes writing down the important information of the chapter, closing the book and putting it in her backpack as the bell rings. “You should probably find a healthy outlet to do the same.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon chases after Stiles once the bell rings, releasing them from Mr. Harris’ classroom. The boy glances at his best friend, a stressed out expression overtaking his face. “Have you seen Scott?” He asks her. “I haven’t seen him and he’s not answering my messages.”

Fallon shakes her head, “No, I haven’t heard from him. I assumed he and Allison took the day off since today’s her birthday,” she reveals thoughtfully. “Lydia asked me to decorate her locker this morning before school.”

“Speaking of, why are you even here?” He questions her. “I don’t know if I’d necessarily be up for tests and homework the day after seeing a dead body.”

“Stiles, you’d be thrilled to go to school after seeing a dead body,” she points out. “In fact, we did go to school after seeing half a dead body.”

“Okay, well, you know what I mean,” he rolls his eyes. “Something crazy happened in that video store and you’re walking around like it’s just another normal morning.”

Fallon goes to respond, but Stiles’ phone ringing prevents her from doing so. “Oh thank God,” he huffs, plugging his headphones into the charging port on his phone, handing Fallon the other earbud before answering Scott’s call.

“What?” Scott asks, tired of the incessant phone calls.

“Finally!” Stiles exclaims. “Have you been getting any of my texts?”

“Yeah, like, all nine million of them…” he says, a bit annoyed.

Fallon shoots Stiles a look, “You really just can’t leave the poor guy alone.”

“We have more important matters to attend to,” Stiles insists. “Do you have any idea what's going on?” He asks Scott. “Lydia is totally MIA, Jackson looks like he's got a time bomb inserted in his face, Fallon for whatever reason is acting totally fine, another random guy's dead, and you have to do something about it!”

“Like what?”

“Something!” Stiles emphasizes.

“Okay,” Scott replies distantly, his mind occupied by other things. “I’ll deal with it later.”

Stiles tries to stop him from hanging up, but it’s too late. Fallon sighs, “You can’t expect him to know how to deal with all of this on his own, Sti,” she says. “We barely even know what to do, so how would he know?”

“He’s that things Beta,” Stiles points out. “And he went after you last night. His priority should be here trying to help us find out why it was there and who it is.”

“Look, I’m with you,” she agrees. “I wanna find out all about the Alpha’s motives, but we can’t force Scott to give up his life just to find the guy. He likes Allison, it is her birthday, just let them have the day to themselves.”

“Okay, I don’t know when you got all freakishly zen, but it’s freaking me out,” Stiles narrows his eyes at her. “Go back to old Fallon.”

“Just because I'm being more rational than you doesn’t mean I’m zen. I’ll still happily punch you in the face.”

Stiles scoffs, “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that violence isn’t the answer?”

“Violence is always the answer,” she pats his back. “That’s why we play lacrosse.”

Stiles can’t help but smile. He shakes his head before turning to her with a more serious matter, “Hey, I was gonna go see Lydia after school today. Y’know, ‘cause she wasn’t here today. I just wanna make sure she’s okay after last night. Do you wanna come?”

Fallon frowns, “I would love to, but I can’t,” she says sadly. “My dad took the night off for parent-teacher conferences. He wants me home right after school so we can ‘spend time together.’ Also known as, ‘keeping me on a leash so I don’t sneak off.’”

“Man, he’s really not letting you off the front porch without him knowing, is he?”

“No,” she laughs irritatedly. “It’s driving me crazy. And after what happened last night, he’s even more on edge. I thought I was in prison before, but forget the curfew. I’m not gonna be allowed out past four at this rate.”

“Luckily, you have me,” he wraps his arm around her. “We’ll find new ways to sneak you out without him knowing.”

“Yeah, I’m sure we will,” she nods. “Just not tonight. I really don’t wanna push my luck.”

Stiles huffs disappointedly, “All right. I won’t force you. I’ll keep you updated on how she’s doing though.”

“Yeah, please do.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon has been home for the past couple hours. She and Stiles have been texting back and forth for the past couple hours, the latter still being stuck on what happened at the video store. She took the alone time to finish off her homework for the week, pick up her room, and get back to reading. She plans on moving on to The Goblet of Fire before she has to leave for parent-teacher conferences. Her attention is diverted when she feels her phone buzz next to her. Stiles’ name pops up on the caller ID and she quickly answers it. Putting it on speaker next to her while she continues reading.

“Fall,” his voice comes through the phone.

“Hey freckles,” she greets. “I thought you were going to Lydia’s?”

“I did,” he huffs, bothered by something. “I left a little bit ago.”

Fallon furrows her eyebrows as she can hear the clear distress in his voice. “Is everything okay? You sound upset.”

He sighs loudly, “I-I don’t know, just– have you heard from Scott at all today? Or maybe Allison?”

“No…” Fallon trails off, her concern growing. “I haven’t heard from him since the call earlier with you. I thought you said he would take care of it. What’s going on?”

“Well–” he tries to say but is cut off by Noah walking into his room. “Hold on, Fall.”

The brunette could hear the entire conversation, chuckling as she remembers a very similar one happening at the Hale house crime scene. She’s envious of Stiles though. He gets to stay home from the conferences this evening.

“Hey, I’m back. You still there?” He asks.

“Yeah,” she nods, getting into a more comfortable position on her bed. “Wanna tell me what’s got you so anxious?”

“Better yet, I’ll show you.” There’s a moment of silence before her phone buzzes again with a text message. “Look at what I sent.”

She goes into her messaging app, opening her text chain with Stiles. She presses the attachment and her eyes widen at the video, “Is that…?” The image of the dead guy flashes through her mind as she watches the Alpha fly through the front store of the window. “Stiles, where the hell did you get this?”

“Lydia’s phone,” he replies. “She had it recording when all of that went down. She kept saying it was a mountain lion.”

“That doesn’t look anything like a mountain lion,” Fallon mumbles, rewatching the video again. “There’s no way we’d be able to explain that.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’ve been trying to get ahold of Scott for the last couple hours, but nothing. I don’t know what to do with this,” she can hear him running a frustrated hand over his face.

“I’m sorry Stiles,” she exhales. “I haven’t heard from him at all.”

“It’s fine,” he grumbles. “Not your fault he’s not answering.”

“Why don’t you just delete it?” Fallon suggests. “That way Lydia won’t have that reminder waiting for her when she opens her camera roll, and we don’t have to explain what we know when she ends up showing it to the police.”

“You think I should?”

“I think that would be the smartest move,” she admits. “Plus, if Scott’s not answering, I think we’re pretty accustomed to making the decision on our own.”

“I just feel like he should at least know about it,” Stiles says nervously.

“You left him a message right?” She asks.

“Not in so many words… I kinda just told him I’d kill him.”

Fallon snorts, “Well, then that shows the severity of the situation. We can always inform him of the full details later,” she smiles into the phone. “Just do what you think is right, Stiles. You have good judgment. You always do. I trust your gut more than anything.”

“Really?” He wonders hopefully.

“Yeah,” she confirms gently.

He nods, “Alright, thanks Fall. I’ll talk to you later, alright? Let me know how the conference goes.”

“I will. Bye Sti.”

She hangs up the phone before picking up her book and finishing the last two pages. She reaches over to her nightstand, grabbing the fourth book of the series and opening the first page. She reads for about thirty minutes until a few loud thuds are heard on her roof. She furrows her eyebrows, looking upwards. It’s silent again for a moment so she shakes her head, assuming it was nothing. At least until a bigger crash got her attention.

Up on the roof was none other than Derek Hale. The man is shirtless and out of breath as he clambers down to her window. Kate and a few other hunters had broken into his home, trying to get him to tell them who the Alpha was. If he truly knew, he wouldn’t be relying on Scott to help track him. Once they found out just how clueless he was, they tried to kill him, so he ran. At the time he wasn’t exactly sure where he’d run, not like he had many options to choose from in the first place.

He did have one option, hence why he’s here now. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but he felt as if he didn’t have a choice. It was either this or fend for himself in the woods.

As he lowers himself to the window, he’s met with the concerned eyes of Fallon Donovan. Once she sees who it is, she’s quick to open up the window, allowing him entrance into her room. She’s shocked to see him shirtless, but recovers in enough time to shut the window and close her curtains. By his hurried state, she assumes that someone may be after him.

“Derek?” She asks, trying to catch her breath from the speedy ordeal. “What happened? What are you doing here?” She walks up to him, seeing a small bruise on his side slowly fading as he pants.

“Hunters…” he manages to get out. Fallon walks over to her mini fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for the werewolf. She opens it, handing it to him. He accepts it gratefully, taking a large swig of it before continuing. “They showed up to my house. Wanted to know about the Alpha,” he explains. “I didn’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“Oh my God,” she says shocked. “Are you okay– Actually, don’t answer that. Obviously you’re not okay. Sorry, that was a dumb question,” she shakes her head at her own idiocy. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” She turns around and walks into her closet, searching for one of the big shirts she’s taken from her dad to sleep in. She finds a faded blue Superman t-shirt and deems that good enough. She walks back out to him, the man seemingly analyzing her room more in depth. “Here.”

“Thanks,” he nods, slipping the shirt over his head. It’s a tight fit, but she noticed that most of his shirts aren’t exactly loose on his chiseled form.

“Do you need anything else?” She asks him. “More water? Food? A Xanax?” She smiles slightly.

Derek sends her a pointed look but shakes his head, “No, I’m fine.”

“Well, I have some small snacks and water bottles in the fridge if you ever change your mind,” she tells him. “Also, if you need to shower or use the restroom, it’s right through that door,” she points to the one right next to her closet.

“I don’t think I’ll be here for that long.”

She turns to him, a worried expression taking over her face. “Derek, I don’t think you should go back out there anytime soon. Just stay here.”

“That’s not a good idea,” he denies. “I don’t think your dad would take too kindly to finding me in your room.”

She waves him off, “He never comes in here. Plus, we’re going to the parent-teacher conferences in like ten minutes. So you’ll have the entire house to yourself.” She walks closer to him, “I’d rather you stay here until we know it’s safe. They obviously know where you live, so it would be better for you to stay here anyway.”

“Fallon!” Michael calls out from the hallway. Derek tenses and gets ready to head for the window, but the smaller brunette grips his arm. He stares down at her hand, then back up to her. He sends a menacing glare her way, but she doesn’t even acknowledge it. She simply keeps her hand encased around his wrist. She’s cold against his warm skin. It’s almost a shock to his system with how large their temperature difference is.

“Yeah, dad?” She responds.

“We gotta go kiddo! I’ll be in the car.”

“Okay!” She says, waiting till she’s sure he’s fully down the stairs before talking to Derek again. Her eyes meet his and she still hasn’t bothered removing her hand from his arm. “Like I said, there’s water and stuff in here. If you get hungry, we should have leftover lasagna in the fridge from yesterday. If you’re not feeling that, feel free to order takeout. There’s some cash in my sock drawer on the side of my bed.”

“I’m not–”

“Don’t argue with me,” she cuts him off sharply. “You’re staying here until I get back and then we can discuss whether or not it’s safe for you to leave. Order yourself something and relax. If you wanna watch something, the password to my computer is 8-1-2-0-4. And before you ask, yes that’s the day I met Scott and Stiles.”

Derek sits there silently and lets her ramble. He quirks an eyebrow, “You done?”

“Yes,” she breathes out. “I’m done.”

She waits for a moment, the two of them only staring at each other. Derek takes a step which puts her on edge, ready to stop him from escaping. But to her surprise, he takes a seat on her bed, grabbing the book she gave him the night before. He holds it up to her, “I’ll make myself busy.”

A small smile etches onto her face, “Okay,” she nods. “I’ll be back in a few hours. And if I come back and you’re not here, I swear to God, I don’t need werewolf senses to hunt your ass down and beat you up,” she threatens.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will.”

She rolls her eyes at his mocking tone, “Whatever. Just– stay here, okay?”

He slowly kicks off his shoes, maintaining eye contact. “Does it look like I’m going anywhere?”

“Okay smartass,” she grumbles. “I’ll be back.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Arriving at the school, Fallon is already wishing the night was over. She crosses her fingers, hoping this all goes by quickly so she can get home before Derek decides to take off. She and her father walk side by side into the school, walking by all of her classes. They get through her first three periods without an issue. Her English teacher adores her, her creative writing teacher thinks she could have a future in literature, and her AP Algebra teacher believes she should be placed into Calculus next year rather than Pre-Calculus so she can have her math credits out of the way sooner.

Michael is proud. He grins down at his daughter, patting her back after every compliment. They all talk about how dedicated she is, how it amazes them she balances so many extracurriculars on top of having one of the highest GPAs in the school. She honestly doesn’t even know how she does it. Especially with the recent events going on in her life. The ratio of coffee intake to sleep at this point is about ten to one.

Fallon winces when she realizes the next teacher they have to go see is Mr. Harris. She glances up at her father, “I just want you to know before we go in there to take everything he says with a grain of salt,” she advises. “He’s a miserable, grouchy, angry man who takes pleasure in ruining teenagers' lives… He also hates me, Scott, and Stiles, so.”

Michael raises an amused eyebrow, “Duly noted.”

The moment they walk into the classroom, Mr. Harris stands from his spot and the semi-pleasant expression he was wearing fades slightly at the sight of the brunette girl. He covers it quickly with a fake smile as he walks directly to Michael, “Mr. Donovan, it’s a pleasure to officially meet you.”

Fallon rolls her eyes, something her father takes notice of. He holds back his own chuckle as he shakes the man’s hand, “Nice to meet you as well, Mr. Harris. I’ve heard absolutely wonderful things about you.”

Fallon fights the urge to stare at her father, mouth agape. Michael just smirks as he watches his daughter shift uncomfortably. “Really?” The teacher asks surprised, looking in between the father-daughter duo. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. Please, take a seat.” He gestures to the chairs in front of his desk.

The two of them take their respective spots as Mr. Harris opens a personal file on the girl in front of him. He reads over it for a moment before looking up. “First off, I just want to start by saying how great of a student Fallon is. Her assignment’s are always done with the utmost precision and turned in on time, if not a few days early. She’s very dedicated to her studies as well as being a star athlete on our lacrosse team as I’m sure you know.” Michael nods along, having heard this same spiel less than fifteen minutes ago. “Not to mention, she’s very involved in the arts. She’s an active participant in the theatre program through her drama class as well as our creative writing program. She will have no issues getting into the college of her choosing with these accolades behind her.”

Fallon is slightly surprised by the amount of praise she’s getting from the man. That is until he closes the file and folds his hands together like that was just the opening act to an even bigger production. She can tell by the disgusted quiver in his lip exactly where this is going to go.

“However, I am slightly worried about her social development as she seems to surround herself with individuals who don’t quite match her potential.”

Michael feigns surprise, “Really? How so?”

“I assume you know about her friendship with Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall, correct?” He asks.

“I do.”

“Well, I feel as though the two boys are holding her back,” Harris states bluntly. “They distract her. I’ve already had to separate them once this semester and they still seem to find ways to interact and disrupt my class.” There’s a hint of unprofessionalism in his voice, his own vendetta against Stiles and Scott showing. “I would just hate to see someone as bright as Fallon throw her future away on something as trivial as a high school friendship.”

If steam could be leaving her ears, it would be. Fallon is fuming, absolutely livid. She’s been friends with Scott and Stiles since moving to Beacon Hills. Their friendship is not trivial or confined to the simplicities of high school. What they have goes beyond all of that.

“Mr. Harris,” Michael leans forward, crossing his right leg over the left. “I appreciate your input on the people my daughter surrounds herself with, I do. But I assure you, Stiles and Scott are not an issue in my daughter's life. From what I’ve seen, they’ve helped her adjust and grow into the woman sitting here today, and I will not tolerate any slander against those two boys. You may not like their behavior, but you must remember that you chose to teach high school students as your career. If you did not expect to have rambunctious teenage boys in your class, then I am afraid you chose the wrong profession.” Fallon’s jaw drops as her father eloquently puts Harris in his place. “I do hope you find a better way of addressing their behavioral issues with their parents rather than implying they’re bad people.” Michael stands from his spot, “Thank you for your time… Fallon,” he nods towards the door, indicating it’s time for them to leave.

The two of them walk out, not giving Mr. Harris a chance to utter another word. Fallon waits till there far enough down the hallway before jumping up and down and smacking her father’s arm. “That was amazing!” She squeals. “Agh, I can’t wait to tell Scott and Stiles. Harris is gonna be pissed when we go back to class.”

“Language,” Michael laughs.

“I can’t help it!” She swings her arms happily. “I feel like I’m floating after that. I mean, did you see how red his face got? Priceless.”

Michael shakes his head, simply wrapping his arm around Fallon’s shoulder as they continue visiting the rest of her teachers. Michael’s and Fallon’s favorite conference had to be with Coach Finstock. They might have gotten five minutes in about Fallon’s grades before turning solely to lacrosse. They couldn’t stop snickering at the man’s enthusiasm. He might’ve let a couple of insults about Stiles slip, but it was all in good nature… they hope.

Finally, the evening was over. Michael and Fallon walk towards the exit doors, pushing them open as they get ready to head to their car. “I’m proud of you, kiddo,” he pats her back.

She smiles up at him, “Thanks dad.”

That’s when the Donovan’s notice Melissa McCall walking up to them. They both smile in her direction, Michael pulling the woman in for a hug as a greeting. Fallon notices the worried look on her face. She seems to be in a rush, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

“Hey guys!” She greets as cheerfully as possible before turning her attention to the young brunette. “Fallon, have you seen Scott at all? Mr. Harris told me that he didn’t show up to school today.”

Fallon shakes her head, “No, I haven’t seen him. I think he might’ve went out with Allison since today’s her birthday,” she says honestly.

Melissa frowns, “Allison? The girl he went to that party with?”

“Yeah,” Fallon nods. “I think they’re dating so he wanted to do something special for her.” Her eyes catch Victoria Argent’s bright red hair, both her and Chris gave the exact same expression as Melissa. Clearly, they haven’t heard from Allison at all either. “Those are her parents,” she points in that direction. “I can take you over there if you want.”

“That would be great,” Melissa nods. “Thank you sweetheart.”

“Alright, well, I’ll let you handle this Fall,” Michael kisses the top of her head. “I’ll be in the car all right?”

“Okay,” she agrees before looping her arm through Melissa’s and escorting her over to the Argent’s.

“Excuse me,” Fallon begins politely. Chris and Victoria turn, their expressions softening when they see who it is. “Hi Mr. and Mrs. Argent, um, this is Melissa McCall, Scott’s mom. I figured since both Allison and Scott weren’t at school today, and they’re not answering their phones, that you might have some things to talk about.”

Victoria’s face hardens once more as she looks at Melissa with distaste, “You’re his mother?”

Melissa scoffs slightly, “Funny how you say that like it’s an accusation…” she comments defensively.

The sudden shift in atmosphere makes Fallon feel awkward for being there in the first place. Chris tilts his head, “Well, I wouldn't claim it as a source of pride, since he basically kidnapped my daughter today.”

“Kidnap isn’t exactly the word I’d use–” Fallon tries to diffuse the situation.

“How do we know that skipping school wasn’t your daughter’s idea?” Melissa crosses her arms.

“My daughter–” Chris tries to talk but that’s when Fallon sees a sheepish looking Allison and Scott approaching them, both of them already knowing how much trouble they are in.

“Is right there,” Fallon finishes, nodding in the direction of the two teens.

Melissa wastes no time in storming over to her son. Victoria and Chris share an angry yet disappointed look before also approaching their daughter. Fallon simply shoves her hands into her pockets, and when she notices Scott looking at her, she makes a bomb explosion with her hands accompanied by her own sound effects. He rolls his eyes at her childish behavior and she smirks before walking over to the parking lot. She looks at her watch, seeing as it’s only eight-thirty she hopes Derek hasn’t taken off yet.

Right as her sneaker clad foot hits the black asphalt of the lot, a blood curdling scream erupts from one of the women leaving the school. Fallon’s head snaps towards the direction of the sound, her body suddenly becoming hyper aware of her surroundings. Indistinct yelling is heard from the crowd as people push through each other trying to get to their cars. She spins on her heel, trying to discover the cause of all the commotion when another couple of girls begin screaming and running in the opposite direction of where they were standing.

Fear. That’s all Fallon could see. Everyone seems to be running for their lives from something the brunette doesn’t even know about. She jumps slightly when a small thud catches her attention. Something just hit the car next to her. Her heartbeat quickens as she scrambles to get away from the vehicle. She tries to look for her dad and their car, but can’t see anything over the panicked people.

“Fallon!” Allison screams, running over to the girl. She grips onto her arm, “Have you seen Scott?” She asks worriedly. “I-I lost him when the first girl screamed. I don’t know where he is.”

Fallon shakes her head, trying to pull Allison away from the car she was just standing next to. The sound of nails scratching against pavement causes the hairs on her neck to stand up. The only thing she can think of is the Alpha. “I don’t know where he is,” she answers. “I thought he was with Melissa.”

“No, we stayed together when everyone started running out of the school,” Allison explains, her nails digging into Fallon’s skin.

“It’s okay,” she reassures the girl. “We’ll find him.”

A small yelp leaves their mouths as one of the cars they were weaving through shakes due to something colliding with it. Fallon immediately starts dragging Allison out of the parking lot and back towards the school. They move backwards, trying to cross the main driving lane to exit the school when suddenly a flashing light blinds the two.

“Allison!”

Suddenly Allison was gone from Fallon’s side. She panics, trying to find the girl but it’s too late. The brunette’s body is launched about five feet from where she stood as a car hits her roughly. She crashes to the ground, her head hitting the gravel with a loud bang. Her vision blurs, a deafening ringing all she’s able to hear. All she can see is blobs of people running over top of her trying to escape.

She lays still on the ground, not a sound coming from her. Someone would probably think she was dead. At least until a throbbing pain shoots up her leg and into her side. She groans loudly, trying to keep the tears at bay as her hearing and vision finally come back into focus. Something is definitely wrong. Scott and Allison appear, both of them standing over her with worry filling their eyes.

Allison is quick to put pressure on certain points and judging by the pained scream she could easily identify the problem. “It’s broken,” she whispers to Scott. “Help me get her up.”

Fallon bites her tongue so hard that she draws blood as her two friends try to drag her over to the pavement. Scott mutters multiple different apologies to his best friend, guilt filling his body at the sight of Fallon in pain. He just saw the car coming and his mind immediately went to saving Allison.

They set her down gently the same time a gun goes off. They all look in the direction of the shooter, seeing Chris Argent standing tall with a determined look on his face. Everyone halts their movements after the shots rang out, walking over to see what exactly was terrorizing the crowd.

Fallon couldn’t see much as her mind was too preoccupied with the pain in her leg. But what she did catch a glimpse of, laying dead with a bullet wound, was a mountain lion. A real, actual mountain lion. Not the Alpha she thought it was.

“Michael!” Scott yells as Fallon’s father comes barreling forward, eyes blown wide.

“What the hell happened?” He asks, kneeling down to his daughter.

“A car hit her,” Allison answers. “I’m pretty sure her leg is broken.”

That’s when Melissa comes rushing over as well as a limping Noah Stilinski. Michael looks up at the sheriff, “We need an ambulance here, now.”

So much for making it back before Derek left.

New Years Eve

Chandler Bing x Reader

TW: Janice lol

»»————-　⚜　————-««

     "So you want to do a no date pact?" (Y/N) asks with doubtful look on her face.

"Yes." Chandler nods aggressively. "No dates. Just us seven."

"You really think you can pull that off?" (Y/N) quips again, not believing Chandler will be able to go through with his proposition.

"Okay, you know what, (Y/N)," Chandler begins slightly aggressive. "I don't need your negative comments, alright? Now who's with me? I say this year, no dates, we make a pact. Just the seven of us. Dinner." He tries his hardest to make it sound appealing.

The rest of the group mumbles in agreement, not truly that interested in his idea. Chandler scoffs, "You know, I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm." He looks at them slightly offended.

Everyone sarcastically begins cheering louder to please his ego. He smiles gratefully and (Y/N) can't help but shake her head in amusement as she takes a sip of her coffee. She doesn't think this pact will last more than a day. Maybe less.

Especially with how things seem to be going for Phoebe and the guy she called out while singing onstage. She smirks and leans back to look up at Chandler, "Still think this whole no date pact thing is gonna work?"

"Oh shut up." He grumbles.

"Hey, that guys going home with more than a note." Joey chimes in, clearly impressed with Phoebe.

(Y/N) snorts out a laugh and sends Chandler a sarcastic thumbs up. The man simply rolls his eyes and goes to sit on the other side of the couch, farthest away from (Y/N).

             »»————-　⚜　————-««

     About two hours later, (Y/N), Rachel, Monica, Ross, Chandler, and Phoebe all sit in Monica's apartment decorating the tree to make it look more festive for the party. (Y/N) and Chandler begin to detangle the golden tinsel as Rachel looks back at Phoebe.

"Pheebs, I can't believe he hasn't kissed you yet. I mean God, by my sixth date with Paolo, I mean he had already named both my breasts!" Rachel laughs lightly until she realizes what she just said. She pauses, "Ooh. Did I just share too much?"

Ross scrunches his eyebrows, "Just a smidge."

"David's like, y'know, Scientist Guy. He's very methodical." Phoebe explains.

"Well, I think it's romantic." (Y/N) smiles.

Monica nods in agreement as Phoebe begins to light up with excitement, "Me too! Oh! Did you ever see An Officer and a Gentleman?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he's kinda like the guy I went to see that with. Except, except he-he's smarter, and gentler, and sweeter... I just- I just wanna be with him all the time. Day and night, and night and day... and special occasions..." She begins to trail off, giving a not so discreet side eye to Chandler.

The man throws his hands up, "Wait a minute, wait a minute, I see where this is going, you're gonna ask him to New Year's, aren't you? You're gonna break the pact. She's gonna break the pact." He announces, looking around at everyone.

Phoebe gasps, "No, no, no, no, no, no." She says getting on her knees on top of the couch. She looks at all of her friends and then gives in. "Yeah, could I just?"

They all collectively gasp, everyone besides seemingly Chandler. (Y/N) looks at him accusatorially as he nods his head to the side, "Yeah, 'cause I already asked Janice."

(Y/N) furrows her eyebrows, not expecting Janice the be the one he ended up asking. While she does feel an extreme sense of bragging coming on for her calling that the no date pact wasn't going to work, this new revelation almost made bragging not worth it.

"What?!" Monica asks, has agape.

"C'mon, this was a pact! This was your pact!" Ross says incredulously.

Chandler shrugs, "I snapped, okay? I couldn't handle the pressure and I snapped."

"Yeah, but Janice?" (Y/N) raises an eyebrow. "That was like the worst breakup in history!"

"I'm not saying it was a good idea, I'm saying I snapped!" Chandler defends.

"Clearly." (Y/N) mutters irritatedly.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Chandler asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Nothing." She replies quietly.

Suddenly the door flies open to reveal an elf Joey with shoes that jingle as he walks. Everyone stares at the man, mouth wide. (Y/N) gasps and begins to cackle as Chandler smirks.

"Hi. Hi, sorry I'm late."

"Too many jokes... must mock Joey!" Chandler exclaims happily.

"Nice shoes, huh? " Joey asks as he wiggles his foot, making the bells jingle once more.

(Y/N) can't believe what she's watching, "You're killing me." She continues laughing.

Rachel looks in between (Y/N) and Chandler, "It's like having two of you." She says to Chandler.

Marcel, Ross's monkey jumps over into the kitchen and knocks over multiple kitchen appliances. Monica looks at her brother exasperatedly, "Ross! He's playing with my spatulas again!"

"Okay, look, he's not gonna hurt them, right?" Ross counters, defending his monkey.

"Do you always have to bring him here?"

"I didn't wanna leave him alone. Alright? We- we had our first fight this morning. I think it has to do with my working late. I said some things that I didn't mean, and he- he threw some feces..." Ross explains upset, making (Y/N) have to hold in her laughter again. She loves the chaos her friends  emanate.

"Y'know, if you're gonna work late, I could look in on him for you." Chandler offers.

(Y/N) scoffs, "Chandler taking care of something. Never thought I'd live to see the day." She smirks playfully.

"You're on one today, you know that?" He quips back.

(Y/N) shrugs happily, satisfied to know she successfully got under Chandler's skin.

            »»————-　⚜　————-««

     "So tell me something. What does the phrase 'no date pact' mean to you?" Ross asks harshly to Monica, who just revealed she got a date for the party.

"I'm sorry, okay. It's just that Chandler has somebody, and Phoebe has somebody- I thought I'd ask Fun Bobby." Monica explains gently to her brother as she takes a seat on the couch.

"Fun Bobby? Your ex-boyfriend Fun Bobby?" Chandler tilts his head.

"Yeah." She confirms.

(Y/N) looks at Chandler, "You know more than one Fun Bobby?"

"I happen to know a Fun Bob." Chandler justifies.

Rachel comes up from behind them all with a mug of coffee for Joey, "Okay, here we go..."

"Ooh ooh ooh ooh, there's no room for milk!" He complains.

Rachel glances at Joey and then at his coffee. She leans down and takes a large sip from the top. "There. Now there is." She shrugs.

"Okay, so on our no-date evening, three of you now have dates." Ross looks in between all of them, still upset about it.

"Uh, four." Joey adds.

"Four." Ross deflates.

"Five." Rachel chimes in.

"Five." Ross hides his head in his hands.

"Six." (Y/N) raises her hand. Taking a sip from Chandler's cup.

"Hey!" Chandler exclaims.

Truthfully, Chandler didn't mind (Y/N) taking a sip of his coffee. He found it slightly endearing. He actually really enjoyed her company due to the fact that both of them happen to be extremely sarcastic.

The brunette man furrows his eyebrows, just now processing what (Y/N) revealed. He pauses, "Wait, you have a date?" He asks her.

"Yes Mr. Bing." (Y/N) responds sarcastically. "Try to hide your shock please." She rolls her eyes.

"I-I didn't meant it like that. I was just interested in hearing you had a date considering two weeks ago you said you didn't plan on dating for awhile." He says, sipping his coffee awkwardly.

(Y/N) tilts her head, "Since when do you pay this close attention to what I say?"

Chandler shrugs, "I don't know..." He mumbles.

"I just can't believe everyone has a date but me." Ross leans back in his chair, crossing his arms to pout.

"Sorry. Paolo's catching an earlier flight."

"Yeah, and I met this really hot single mom at the store. What's an elf to do?" Joey shrugs.

"Yeah, and I met a cute guy at the grocery store when I was shopping for stuff to make my cheesecake." (Y/N) tells him sympathetically.

Ross looks up, "Is it your Oreo one?"

"Yes Ross." (Y/N) smiles.

"You're forgiven." He nods. "But the rest of you are not."

"Oh, c'mon. We'll have, we'll have a big party, and no-one'll know who's with who." Rachel tries to comfort him.

"Yeah, well I'll know. Hey, y'know, this is so not what I needed right now." Ross shakes his head.

"What's the matter?" Monica looks at him concerned.

"Oh, it's-it's Marcel. He's angry with me again. I have no idea why. He keeps shutting me out, y'know? He's walking around all the time dragging his hands..."

"That's so weird, I had such a blast with him the other night." Chandler says, moving his arm behind (Y/N), lightly touching her back. She furrows her eyebrows, but doesn't say anything.

"Really?" Ross looks at him, hurt evident on his face.

"Yeah, we played, we watched TV.. that juggling thing is amazing."

"What juggling thing?" Ross asks as his body begins to sag sadly.

"With the balled-up socks?" Chandler tells him. "I figured you taught him that."

"No." Ross frowns.

Chandler goes to continue once more, but (Y/N) puts her hand on his, "Just stop. You're making it worse." She whispers.

"Noted." He nods, keeping his mouth shut. He leans down to whisper since Phoebe's boyfriends friend walked in. "You know, you never told me what the name of your date was."

"You didn't ask." (Y/N) responds.

"Well, now I'm asking." He looks down at her, his eyes never leaving her figure.

"Well, if you're really that curious, his name is Wren." She whispers back to him.

He looks at her with a scrunched up face, "What the hell kind of a name is Wren?"

"A model name apparently." She responds smugly, taking his coffee from his hands, sipping it once more.

"He's a model?" Chandler looks at her, suddenly losing all confidence.

"Yeah. I figured he could give Joey some good contacts too. So, it's a win-win." She smiles, not noticing Chandler's change in demeanor.

"Yeah." He says grouchily. "Win-win."

            »»————-　⚜　————-««

     (Y/N) walks into Monica's apartment, she smiles at all of her friends as the part is in full swing. She watches as everyone begins to mingle and she makes her way over to the snack table. She places her Oreo cheesecake on the table and grabs her own plate, getting some of Rachel's artichoke dip in the process.

Before she could escape, Chandler and his date Janice come up to the table and the latter gets a big scoop of the same dip (Y/N) just got. "I love this artichoke thing!" She says boisterously and does her signature Janice laugh, making (Y/N)'s eyes go wide.

"(Y/N), you remember Janice." Chandler gives her a fake smile, clearly already annoyed with his date.

"Vividly." She replies with an even faker smile. "How are you?"

"Oh, I am fantastic! Now, you know what's totally amazing? It's just like we have been back together for...like what...like 10 minutes. And-"

"Is that all?" Chandler interrupts, making (Y/N) smirk.

"it's just like we were never apart.   Y'know I mean. Of course, we were... but forgive and forget. Well...forget." She laughs once more when a knock sounds at the door.

(Y/N) nods, and her eyes follow after Monica, begging to be saved. "Well Janice, lovely seeing you again, but Monica needs help... opening the door. So, catch you guys later." She rushes out and follows after her raven-haired friend.

Chandler watches as (Y/N) walks away, his eyes slowly looking over her body. He didn't really notice until now, but she looked absolutely stunning. The dress she was wearing fit her body perfectly. It hugged her in all the right places.

"Oh honey," Janice starts. "You've got a little drool on your chin." She laughs, wiping it off for him.

(Y/N) approaches Monica and a very disheveled Rachel.  She gasps at the sigh of her friend and the bruises that decorate her face. "Oh my gosh! Rachel, honey.. are you okay? Where-where's Paolo?" She asks as her and Monica pull her inside the apartment.

"Rome. Jerk missed his flight." She scoffs angrily.

"And then... your face is bloated?" Phoebe looks at her concerned.

"No. Okay. I was at the airport, getting into a cab, when this woman- this blonde planet with a pocketbook- starts yelling at me. Something about how it was her cab first. And then the next thing I know she just starts- starts pulling me out by my hair! So I'm blowing my attack whistle thingy and three more cabs show up, and as I'm going to get into a cab she tackles me. And I hit my head on the curb and cut my lip on my whistle." She stops and looks around, noticing everyone staring at her. "Oh, everybody having fun at the party?" She leans over to (Y/N) and Monica, "Are people eating my dip?"

(Y/N) and Monica nod as the (h/c) haired girl shows her the plate she has in her hand. Rachel smiles gratefully as Phoebe grabs Rachel's hand and escorts her into her room. (Y/N) huffs and goes over to sit next to Ross and Chandler who both seem to be sulking in the corner.

"What are you boys doing?" She asks with a glass of wine in her hand, sitting right next to Chandler.

"Hiding from Janice." Chandler whispers, peeking around the corner. "I haven't had a moment to breathe since I've been here."

"What did you expect?" (Y/N) chuckles. "It's Janice."

"Yeah." He huffs out, leaning his head against (Y/N)'s arm. She places her hand on his head, playing with his hair mindlessly. Chandler's eyes close as he enjoys the sensation of (Y/N)'s hands in his hair.

The two sit like that for a moment, just enjoying each others company. (Y/N) looks up from Chandler and notices Ross staring longingly at his monkey who seems to be ignoring him.

"You doing okay Ross?" She asks genuinely.

Ross sighs, "Look at him. I'm not saying he has to spend the whole evening with me, but at least check in." He pouts.

Before (Y/N) could respond a loud voice rings out, causing her and true two men to jump. "There you are! Haaah, you got away from me!" She says to Chandler, waking him from his almost peaceful slumber. Janice practically sits on his lap, making him look at her grumpily.

"But you found me!" He imitates her.

Janice looks over at (Y/N) and hands her a camera, "Here, (Y/N) , take our picture." (Y/N) reluctantly takes the camera and begins to snap photos. "Smile! You're on Janice Camera!"

"Kill me. Kill me now." Chandler looks at (Y/N) with pleading eyes.

The woman smiles and sends him a playful wink as she snaps another photo of the couple. "Keep smiling Chandler, you're on Janice camera." She says mockingly.

Another knock sounds through the house and Monica goes to look through the peephole. She smiles excitedly, "Hey everybody! It's Fun Bobby!"

Everyone cheers loudly as Monica opens the door. She goes to greet him cheerily but quickly notes the depressed look on his face. "Hey, sorry I'm late. But my, uh, grandfather, he- died about two hours ago. But I-I-I couldn't get a flight out 'til tomorrow, so here I am!"

Fun Bobby goes towards the couch and begins to talk about his grandfathers funeral. Janice grabs (Y/N)'a attention once more, forcing her to take more photos of her and Chandler.

(Y/N) dejectedly turns back around and comes face to face with Janice kissing Chandler. (Y/N) clenches her jaw jealously as she aggressively snaps a photo of the two kissing. Chandler notices (Y/N)'s posture become much more tense. He pulls away and sends (Y/N) a curious look.

"Oh, I'm gonna blow this one up, and I'm gonna write Reunited in glitter." Janice exclaims happily as she continues to try and maul Chandler's face.

(Y/N) scoffs under her breath and shakes her head. She goes to turn around but Chandler's voice stops her. "Alright, Janice, that's it! Janice... Janice... Hey, Janice, when I invited you to this party I didn't necessarily think that it meant that we-" He gestures between the two of them.

"Oh no. Oh no." The woman puts her hand up, tears forming in her eyes.

"I'm sorry you misunderstood..." Chandler trails off.

(Y/N) can't help but feel happy at the scene unfolding in front of her. She really did hate seeing Chandler with Janice. Or any female for that matter. Little did she know was that Chandler felt the exact same.

"Oh my God. You listen to me, Chandler, you listen to me. One of these times is just gonna be your last chance with me." Janice exclaims as she storms off.

(Y/N), not able to help herself, snaps a photo of Chandler being left on the spot. The man rolls his eyes, "Oh, will you give me the thing." He snatches the camera from her hands making her giggle at his irritation.

"So grouchy." (Y/N) teases as she begins to walk back over to the snack table, Chandler in tow.

"I know this sounds terrible," He starts. "But I am so happy she left." He breathes out relieved.

"You and me both." (Y/N) laughs. "I'm sorry, but her laugh drives me insane."

"You're not the only one." He answers with wide eyes.

"Hey, but at least she's gone now." (Y/N) smiles optimistically.

"And so is my chances of getting a kiss at midnight." He huffs, leaning back in his chair.

(Y/N) shakes her head at him, "Is that really all you're worried about?"

"Yeah, aren't you?" He queries. "Speaking of, I haven't seen your model man date." He tells her mockingly. "Did someone lie about having a date?"

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, and shows him a photo of the man, making his eyes widen at how beautiful he is. "That's not natural." Chandler shakes his head.

"But no, I didn't lie about having a date." (Y/N) stares at him. "He just bailed last minute. Said he took a job in LA at the Marc Jacobs show tomorrow morning so he had to fly out."

"Well, he's a jerk." Chandler states matter of factly. "Leaving you high and dry like that."

(Y/N) shrugs, "I'm not to broken up about it. Plus, I'm right where I wanna be." She smiles softly, squeezing Chandler's hand.

The man's heart leaps in his chest as the beautiful woman in front of him stares at him with her piercing (e/c) eyes. "Really? Sitting here, no date, with me." Chandler raises an eyebrow. "That's where you wanna be?"

"Why wouldn't I want to be here?" (Y/N) tilts her head. "I'd rather be here with you than anyone else."

(Y/N) glances over at the TV, "There's twenty seconds til midnight." She reveals.

"And the moment of joy is upon us." He smiles sarcastically.

(Y/N) listens as the group of people begin to count down. Ross, Monica, Rachel, Joey, and Phoebe seem to have formed their own little group in the other corner of the house. Everyone besides them seem to gather in their own little couples as they begin to count down.

3...

(Y/N) looks over at Chandler and stands up. The man looks at her with a confused look on his face. "What are you doing?"

"Get up." She commands.

2...

"What why?" He looks around rapidly, not understanding what's going on.

"Just get up." She repeats. "Trust me." She extends her hand out for him to take.

"Why do I have a feeling this isn't going to end well?" He asks warily.

"You tell me if it ends badly."

1...

"I don't understand-" Chandler furrows his eyebrows but is swiftly cut off by (Y/N) grabbing him by the collar and pulling him closer to her.

Happy New Year

(Y/N) smashes her lips onto Chandler's. The man sits in shock for a moment before settling into the kiss. He reciprocates her passion and continues kissing her happily. He grabs her waist and pulls her even closer than she was before. He digs his fingers into her side, causing her to gasp. He slips his tongue into her mouth smoothly and she sighs happily. Her hands shoot up into his hair, her thumbs rubbing the back of his head.

"Chandler's kissing (Y/N)!" Ross exclaims. "(Y/N)'s kissing Chandler!" He points over to the couple like a child catching his parents putting presents under the tree.

(Y/N) and Chandler reluctantly pull apart and both of them look over to their group of friends who are staring at them with blank faces. Chandler wraps his arm around (Y/N)'a waist.

"Well, Happy New Year everyone." He clears his throat. "But I think (Y/N) and I are gonna head back to her apartment."

(Y/N) nods rapidly, "Bye guys." She waves as the two frantically escape Monica's apartment, desperate to undress each other.

The group watches after them and Joey sighs, "It's about damn time." He exclaims.

Everyone nods and mumbles in agreement as they go back to the party. The tension between them has been palpable for awhile. It was truly only a matter of time.

Looks like the no date pact didn't do much good.

Lupus Nox

(A Teen Wolf Fanfiction)

Season One

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓪 𝓖𝓲𝓯𝓽

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

There are friends, there is family, and then

there are friends who become family

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Season One Cast

You as Fallon Donovan

Tyler Hoechlin as Derek Hale

Zooey Deschanel as Grace Donovan

Jamie Dornan as Michael Donovan

The rest of the Teen Wolf cast as their lovely

characters 🤍

Pack Mentality 1x03

Episode 4

     “So you killed her?” Stiles asks bluntly, opening up the door to the school so he, Scott, and Fallon could walk in. Scott had just finished explaining to them the dream he had last night about him and Allison. It started off normal, but he ended up shifting and killing her on a school bus. 

“I don't know. I just woke up,” he exhales shakily. “And I was sweating like crazy, and I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream where I woke up like that before.”

“Really?” Stiles asks, surprised. “I have. Usually ends a little differently.”

Fallon cringes, not needing that image in her head. “Stop talking,” she says.

“A,” I meant I've never had a dream that felt that real, and "B," never give us that much detail about you in bed again,” Scott shakes his head, just as grossed out as Fallon.

Stiles puffs out a breath of air, “Noted,” he nods. “Let me take a guess here–”

“No,” Scott stops him. “I know– you think it has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow, like I'm gonna lose control and rip her throat out.” 

“You might,” Fallon points out. They both look at her incredulously and she shrugs, “What? It’s true. I’m not saying that’s what will happen, but it is a possibility you have to consider. And I think I can speak for all of us when I say an alive Allison is better than a dead Allison.” 

Stiles shoves Fallon playfully, causing her to stumble to the side. Stiles wraps his arm around Scott’s shoulder seeing the glum look on his face. “Hey, come on! It's gonna be fine, all right? Personally, I think you're handling this pretty freakin' amazingly. You know, it's not like there's a Lycanthropy for Beginners class you can take.”

Scott raises his hands at Stiles as though to say, "Seriously?" before he frowns and thinks for a moment. An idea pops into his head as he looks in between his two friends, “Yeah… not a class, but maybe a teacher,” he says thoughtfully.

Stiles already knows exactly who Scott is about to suggest, “Who, Derek?” He balks at the suggestion. Scott continues to stare at him silently causing the spastic boy to smack him on the back of the head. “You forgetting the part where we got him tossed in jail?” 

Fallon puts her finger up, stopping any more words from coming out of his mouth. “Oh no, there is no we,” she scoffs. “This was you two,” she gestures between them, “and your knack for terrible assumptions. I just got dragged along for the ride.” 

“We found the body on his property!” Stiles exclaims. “You looked just as terrified as us.” 

“That doesn’t mean I think he did it!” She counters. “I saw a dead body, obviously I was scared. But I still don’t believe he killed his sister in cold blood.” 

“Guys!” Scott laughs at their behavior. “I know it might be a long shot, but I need help,” he admits. “The way I chased her, dragging her into the back of that bus,” he recalls the incident, shuddering at the memory. “It felt so real.”

“How real?” Stiles asks sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. 

Scott shrugs, “Like it actually happened.” 

The trio opens the back door of the building they were in to head to the one across the courtyard, but before they could they’re all stunned speechless. They stop dead in their tracks, all of them staring horrified at the scene in front of them. Sheriff's deputies have taped-off a crime scene around one of the buses at the bus bay. The back of the vehicle is splattered with blood, and the emergency exit door has been almost completely ripped off and is hanging by a single hinge at the bottom. A crime scene investigator is snapping photos of the wreckage, including one of the back seats, which has been clawed open and is spilling its stuffing out onto the floor.

Fallon’s mouth gapes open in shock, looking over to her similarly scared friends. “… I think it did.” 

Scott’s face fills with guilt and horror as he spins around and walks back into the building they were just leaving. Fallon and Stiles struggle to keep up with him as he pulls out his phone, texting Allison. Fallon does the same, pulling up the girl's contact information. 

“I’ll try to call her,” she says, placing a hand on Scott’s shoulder. It rings a few times before naturally going to voicemail. She glances at Scott who’s last bit of hope is dimming, “She didn’t answer…”

He groans, repeatedly slamming the keys with the pads of his fingers as he sends yet another text. Stiles tries to reassure him, “She’s probably fine–”

“She’s not answering my texts, Stiles!” Scott groans anxiously. He starts frantically looking around at all the other students in the hallway, trying to see if Allison is among them. 

“Hey, this could all just be some crazy coincidence, okay?” Fallon tells him calmly, trying to remain a voice of reason despite her anxieties. “I’m sure she’s somewhere. Her dad would’ve already been out ready to kill whoever did it if she was dead, Scott.” 

“Just help me find her, okay?!” 

The werewolf is basically turning in circles as he continues to search for the girl. Stiles and Fallon do their best to try and spot her, but none of them can seem to find her. “Do you see her?” Scott asks, panicked. 

Stiles sighs, “No…”

“I don’t either,” Fallon shakes her head. 

Scott continues to look, anxiously running his hand through his hair while he does, until he finally speeds up and turns around the corner, losing control. Fallon and Stiles try to keep up with him, but end up getting lost in the sea of teenagers. They both look at each other, stress taking over their features. 

“Do you think he actually killed her?” Fallon asks.

“No, there’s no way,” Stiles shakes his head. His resolve crumbles slightly, “Right?” He looks at her unsurely. 

“He wouldn’t,” the brunette girl nods. “He-he cares about her too much. I don’t think he could,” she bites her bottom lip nervously. There’s no use in trying to find him in this state. He’ll only calm down if he finds Allison. Fallon huffs loudly, grabbing Stiles’ arm, “C’mon, we gotta get to class.” 

        · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     To Fallon and Stiles’ relief, Scott had found Allison not long after they lost each other. He texted them while Fallon was in her creative writing class and Stiles was in math. After a few pretty uneventful periods, everyone avoiding the hot button topic of the bloody bus, the trio is finally reunited in their chemistry class. 

Stiles and Fallon sit side by side at the two person desk while Scott sits directly in front of them. Their teacher, Mr. Harris, writes notes on the chalkboard in front of the class while a beaker of clear liquid bubbles in a stand where it hangs from a bunsen burner. 

Fallon dutifully writes her notes, highlighting what she deems important and keeping what she doesn’t in black pen. Stiles copies off her notes, finding that they make more sense than what Harris is writing on the board. The two of them are interrupted though as Scott turns around, “Maybe it was my blood on the door,” he suggests, his mind not able to think of anything else besides the accident. 

Stiles nods, “Could have been animal blood.” 

“Maybe you got hungry last night and went out for a midnight snack,” Fallon agrees. “You could’ve just tore up and ate a rabbit or something.”

Scott looks absolutely appalled by her theory, “Raw?” 

Fallon blinks, “Uh, yeah. What, did you think Werewolves kept little stove tops on hand to cook their prey?” She scoffs. “Obviously they eat things raw, Scott. And we don’t even know for sure because you can’t remember anything.” 

Scott is still offended, and none of them have noticed that Mr. Harris has turned to watch them talk with a stern look on his face and his hands on his hips. He finally speaks up in a snide voice to interrupt them, “Ms. Donovan, if that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out and put the books down every once in a while.” 

Stiles wastes no time as he begins to chuckle at the embarrassed look on Fallon’s face. He covers his mouth so Harris won’t see him making fun of her. She roughly pinches the back of his arm causing him to yelp and immediately start rubbing the sore spot. He looks at her incredulously and she sends him the most venomous smile she can muster. 

“I think you, Mr. McCall, and Mr. Stilinski would benefit from a little distance, yes?” The teacher lifts an eyebrow, almost daring one of them to challenge him. 

Scott scoffs in irritation as Stiles simply yells, “No!” 

Fallon just stares at the man unamused, “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” she shrugs, grabbing her stuff and moving to the front of the room. Her seat is now directly in front of Jackson. Stiles is forced to move to the back of the classroom, leaving Scott in the center. It’s definitely going to be a lot more difficult to talk now. 

“Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much,” Harris snarks sarcastically. 

Fallon rolls her eyes, opening her notebook back up. The girl she’s sitting next to, Harley, doesn’t look at all surprised that the three of them got separated. Refocusing on the task at hand, Fallon continues her notes, color coding them as she goes. She internally groans, knowing she’s going to have to send Stiles a photo of them later now that he can’t just copy off of her directly. 

“Hey! I think they found something!” Harley shouts, shooting up from her seat and beelining it towards the window. Everyone in the class follows after her, all of them eager for a distraction. Outside in the parking lot, an ambulance is parked at a corner with their lights and sirens on, and two paramedics are quickly wheeling a stretcher with a middle-aged adult man on it towards the open doors in the back of the ambulance. Scott, horrified and certain that the man is dead, looks over at Stiles and Fallon, who has joined him at his left side

“That’s not a rabbit…” He whispers with wide eyes. 

The paramedics are about to lift the stretcher into the back of the ambulance when suddenly, the man jumps into a seated position, grabbing the shoulders of the paramedics on each side of him with his hands, and begins screaming in fear. The sudden movement and scream causes all of the students watching inside to flinch, visibly startled. Scott, unable to watch any more of this, backs away from the windows until he's in the middle of the room. Stiles and Fallon immediately abandon the window, coming to their friend's aid.

“Scott, this is a good thing,” Fallon says softly. “He sat up which means he’s not dead. And if he’s not dead, that means you’re in the clear.” 

“Fall, I did that,” he looks out the window, dismayed that they now have confirmation someone was seriously injured by whatever happened last night. 

       · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     The school day has been going by relatively fast. Fallon was expecting it to drag on a lot more than it was simply because of the accident happening outside. Most of the teachers have given up on trying to get everyone to focus. They know it’s a lost cause with how easily distracted teenagers are. 

Fallon takes a bit of the caesar salad wrap she prepped for her lunch, listening to Stiles and Scott continue talking about the incident. “But dreams aren’t memories,” Stiles points out.

“Then it wasn’t a dream,” Scott says. He sets his tray on the table, sitting directly across from Fallon. Stiles takes the empty chair next to the brunette girl as Scott continues. “Something happened last night, and I can’t remember what.” 

“What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?” Stiles questions skeptically. 

“Well he’s been doing this a hell of a lot longer than we have,” Fallon chimes in, placing her bag of cool ranch Doritos on Stiles’ plate, knowing they’re his favorite. “He’s bound to know something.” 

Scott sighs as Stiles waits patiently for an explanation. Scott leans forward, lowering his volume, “During the full moon, he wasn't changed. He was in total control while I was running around in the middle of the night, attacking some totally innocent guy.”

Stiles leans back, shaking his head, “You don’t know that.”

“I don’t not know it,” he says, not convinced that he’s innocent. He bites his bottom lip in thought before exhaling in defeat. “I can’t go out with Allison. I have to cancel.” 

Stiles scoffs, “No, you're not canceling, okay? You can't just cancel your entire life!”

“He’s right,” Fallon looks at Scott. “You shouldn’t have to give up everything that makes you a normal teenager. Don’t worry about it. We’ll figure it out.” 

“Figure out what?” 

The group of three jumps as Lydia appears behind Scott, slamming her lunch tray down on the table to Scott’s left. Stiles, who is more than just a little startled by her appearance, begins stammering like an idiot. “Ha– Uhh–”

Seeing that Stiles is unable to come up with a quick lie, Fallon smiles over at her friend to cover up their topic of conversation. “Just homework and study group times. Conflicting schedules,” she explains with a nod. 

Stiles and Scott both nod in sync, “Yeah.” 

While Lydia briefly becomes distracted by someone passing by the table, Stiles leans forward so he’s only heard among his friends. “Why is she sitting with us?” 

Both Fallon and Scott shrug, not knowing the answer to his question. Suddenly, more people start to sit down at their table. Marcus Reed from the lacrosse team sits at the head of the table, while Danny takes a seat on Fallon’s right. Scott turns to see that Allison is sitting down next to him and smiles before moving his backpack so she can sit down. 

Harley sits down on Stiles' left, and he chuckles at the sight of her, causing Harley to roll her eyes good-naturedly. Fallon and Stiles share an irritated look, annoyed that their conversation was cut short by all the popular kids suddenly flocking to them. Fallon doesn’t have a problem with any of them, but some days she just wants to be with Stiles and Scott. Her social batter isn’t high enough currently to entertain a group of eight to ten people. 

She makes the effort to smile at Danny, the two falling into a rather easy conversation. Fallon really doesn’t understand how Danny and Jackson became friends. Danny is so nice whereas Jackson is so… not. Speaking of the devil, the blonde boy approaches the table, glaring at Marcus. “Get up,” he orders.

Marcus groans loudly, “How come you never ask Danny to get up?” 

Danny smirks as he bites into his green apple, “Because I don’t stare at his girlfriend's coin slot,” he quips back with no remorse.

Fallon discreetly high fives the boy next to her, giggling at his quick comeback. Marcus rolls his eyes before getting up, finding some of the other lacrosse players to sit with as Jackson fills up his spot. “So, I hear they’re saying it’s some kind of animal attack,” Danny starts the conversation. “Probably a cougar.” 

“I heard a mountain lion,” Jackson counters, always finding a way to contradict someone else.

Fallon furrows her eyebrows at the blonde’s words. She goes to correct him, but is stopped when Lydia is the one who speaks up. “A cougar is a mountain lion.” 

Everyone stares at the strawberry blonde blankly. Well, everyone except Stiles and Fallon who know the girl well enough to be aware of her intelligence. Lydia’s eyes widen as she realizes how dangerously close she is to revealing her secret. She clears her throat, “…Isn’t it?” 

Fallon raises an unamused brow before whispering, “Nice save…” 

Lydia sends her a warning glare before turning her attention back to the food in front of her. Jackson scoffs, “Who cares? The guy’s probably some homeless tweaker who’s gonna die anyway?” 

“Jesus,” Fallon narrows her eyes. “What crawled up your ass and died? He’s still a human being. Show some compassion.” 

Stiles glances up from his phone after quickly doing some research on the case, “Actually, I just found out who it is. Check it out.” He pulls up a video on his phone and turns it so everyone can view it. It’s from a news website. 

“The Sheriff's department won't speculate on details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Myers, did survive the attack. Myers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition,” the reporter finishes narrating and Scott gasps at the information. 

“Wait, I-I-I know this guy,” he points to the familiar face on the screen.

Allison looks surprised, “You do?”

He nods, “Yeah, when I used to take the bus, back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver.”

Scott, Stiles, and Fallon all share a pointed look, knowing that this newfound information means something more than what they originally thought. Lydia glances at them with an annoyed expression, “Can we please talk about something slightly more fun, please? Like…” she gasps when she thinks of what to talk about, “Oh, where are we going tomorrow night?” She asks Allison who simply stares at her with a confused look on her face. “You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?” She clarifies. 

Allison raises her eyebrows and gulps nervously, realizing exactly what Lydia's about to do and trying to keep it casual in hopes of Lydia staying out of it. “Um, we were thinking of what we were gonna do…” She looks at Scott apologetically, knowing Lydia is about to invite herself and Jackson into their plans. 

“Well, I am not sitting home again, watching lacrosse videos, so if the four of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun,” Lydia states, leaving no room for an argument.

Scott is completely stunned at this turn of events. He gapes helplessly making Fallon hide her smirk. “H-H-Hanging out? Like, the four of us?” He turns to Allison, who has covered up her displeasure at their plans being crashed by drinking out of her water bottle. “Do you wanna hang out? Like, us... and them?”

Allison looks just as excited as Scott does, and by that, not at all. But Fallon knows the girl well enough by now to see how well-mannered she is. There’s no way she’s going to blatantly turn Lydia down. “Yeah… I guess,” she replies in a wary voice, a fake smile plastered on. “Sounds fun.” 

The way Jackson scoffs makes it clear that the only one truly excited about this double date is Lydia. “You know what else sounds fun? Stabbing myself in the face with this fork.” He raises the utensil up to his eye, making Lydia snatch it out of his hands, glaring at him for his rudeness. 

“How ‘bout bowling? You love to bowl,” Lydia points out. 

Scott looks at Fallon and Stiles who are rapidly shaking their heads, trying to silently communicate that he shouldn’t go. Nothing good will come out of Jackson and Scott competing against each other in another sport. 

Jackson rolls his eyes, “Yeah, with actual competition.” 

“Then why don’t you and your… friend come, Fallon?” Lydia suggests with a pleading look while also simultaneously ignoring Stiles’ existence. “You two love competing with each other.” 

Fallon laughs loudly which could come off as a bit brash, but not enough to offend anyone. Stiles looks absolutely panicked at the prospect of being dragged into this. She shakes her head, “Uh, no thanks Lyds,” she rejects. “While I would absolutely love to sit there with you guys in tension filled silence, Stiles and I already have plans.”

“We do?” He asks, confused. She sends him a hard glare which makes his eyes widen in understanding, “We do.” 

Allison leans forward, an offended look on her face as she looks at Jackson. “And what makes you think we’re not actual competition?” She says, coming to her and Scott’s defense. “You can bowl, right?” She asks her boyfriend. 

Scott’s expression is an uneasy one, “Sort of…”

“Is it-is it "sort of," or "yes?” Jackson asks patronizingly. 

Fallon internally groans as she watches Scott’s face turn competitive. He clearly doesn’t want to be shown up by Jackson or feel any more inferior than he already does. “Yes,” he lies. “In fact, I’m a great bowler.” 

       · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Fallon was happy to have a free period at the end of her day. While everyone was still stuck in class, she happily got on her motorcycle and drove off. She has lacrosse practice after school, so she knows not to go too far, but she still wants some time to herself. She rides through the woods towards one of her favorite reading spots. The only people who know about it, of course, are Scott and Stiles. When she pulls up to the familiar rock, a smile graces her face. She parks her bike, hanging her backpack off the handles before grabbing the next book in the Harry Potter series. The Chamber of Secrets. 

She had finished The Philosopher’s Stone a few days ago and is already almost halfway through this one. She sits down in the mossy grass, leaning against the smooth boulder. A large tree trunk sits a few feet away. She’s always wondered how it was cut down with a base that large, but those thoughts leave her mind as she gets lost in the pages. 

She loves the complexities of all the characters in every book she reads. Being able to analyze and compare them to her own life and experiences is one of the main reasons she loves to read. It provides her an escape from her reality. At first, it was to put a little magic in her otherwise dull life, but recently the lines between fiction and nonfiction in her actual world have been blurring. 

She has an alarm set to remind her when she needs to start heading back for practice, but she doesn’t let that interrupt her. Her eyes glaze over the pages, turning one after the other. She doesn’t know how much time has passed until a voice pulls her out of the world she immersed herself in.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Fallon jumps when the masculine tone calls out, dropping her book on the ground in front of her. She turns around to find Derek Hale staring at her from only a few feet away, his hands buried in his pockets. “Where are your friends?” 

Fallon analyzes him, wondering why he came to talk to her. “At school…” she responds. 

He takes a few steps closer, “Then why aren’t you there?” 

She shrugs her shoulders, “I have a free period.” Her hands delicately pick up the book she was reading, dusting it off from the small specks of dirt that cover it. “Thought I’d come out here and read.” 

“With everything that’s been going on, you really think that’s a good idea?” He raises an eyebrow, his frown becoming deeper. 

“I clearly don’t have anything to worry about,” she tells him confidently. “Since apparently you’re always lurking around somewhere.”

He looks shocked at her wit, but doesn’t let it show for long. “And what happens when I’m not?”

“Then I guess that means I’m dead,” she says bluntly, opening her book back up to the page where she left off. 

His curiosity about this girl never fades. He genuinely cannot figure her out. She’s sarcastic like Stiles but in a way that no one can tell if she’s serious or not. “You’d really want that to be the case?” 

“Now look who’s asking a lot of questions,” she smirks, calling him out for what he said to her on their second official meeting. She doesn’t bother looking up from her book. “Look, I appreciate the concern or whatever this is, but I can handle myself.” 

“Against a werewolf?” He narrows his eyes. “No, you can’t. I’m not saying you’re not capable or strong, but you physically cannot take on a werewolf,” he explains, now standing above her. There’s still a healthy distance, but he’s much closer than before. “Not alone.” 

“I’m not alone,” she finally looks up at him. “I’ve got my own guard dog. He’s standing right here,” she nods at him. 

“I’m not your guard dog.” 

“Then why are you here?” She quips back. 

Silence. 

Fallon stares at him, waiting for an answer. Derek doesn’t move, his posture as rigid as his facial expressions. “Making sure no one else gets hurt,” he says monotonously. 

“Well, you’ve done your job,” she dismisses. “I’m completely healthy.” Her eyes travel back down to the pages in her lap, wanting to get back to the conversation the Golden Trio is having. 

Another wave of quietness passes between them. It’s peaceful, not as uncomfortable as Fallon would’ve assumed. Derek’s actually not that bad of company. It would probably be a bit less awkward if he sat down next to her or had a book of his own. Her eyes light up as she glances in his direction, “You wanna sit down?” She asks, moving over slightly. “I don’t bite. Oh, and if you do, no judgment, just sit a little further away,” she grins playfully. “I don’t know if you’ve had all your shots.” 

“Are you always like this?” Derek asks, his patience wearing a little thin. 

“Like what?” She tilts her head. 

“Aggravating,” he says with a clenched jaw. “Non-serious. Naive.” 

“First of all, I’m not naive,” she corrects him. “I just find it’s better to find the humor in situations rather than being a scowly, angry bear all the time,” her comment comes out as a jab towards him. “It takes forty-three muscles to frown and only seventeen to smile,” she informs him wisely. “So why would I bother making myself miserable when it just takes more work?” She closes her book, standing up from her spot. “Second of all… yes. I am always aggravating and non-serious.” She walks over to her bike, grabbing the leather jacket she completely forgot was his and wraps it around herself as she gets ready to go. 

He blinks, not expecting to see her wearing something of his. “You kept it,” he says, with his version of a surprised voice. It actually catches her off guard for a second as his tone is not as gloomy as usual. 

Fallon looks down at the jacket, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. “Yeah… I did.” She clears her throat, shoving her book in her backpack. “Did you not want me to?” She asks him almost in a whisper, but with his werewolf hearing, it was clear as day.

He shrugs, averting his eyes. He doesn’t answer her question. She leans against her bike, grabbing her helmet. “Do you want it back?” She says, taking off the jacket and holding it out towards him. 

There’s a pause before he walks up to her, closing the distance between the two of them. He looks the jacket over and pushes it back towards the girl’s body. “No,” he states shortly. 

She keeps her eyes on him, “Do you want me to keep it?” 

Another shrug is all she gets. She holds the leather close to her chest, “Not a man of many words, are you?” 

“Just keep it,” he says. “I have more anyway.” 

“So this one wasn’t your favorite or anything?” Fallon smiles, her easygoing, playful demeanor returning. “I’m not stealing your security blanket that helps keep you from shifting?” 

“It can’t be my favorite if it’s yours,” he watches as she drapes it over her shoulder again. She’s pleasantly surprised at his answer which feels as though he’s returning her banter. 

“Very true Mr. Hale, very true,” she grins at him, mounting her bike with her backpack strapped on tight. “Well, I should probably get going… I’ve got lacrosse.” Derek nods and Fallon pulls the visor to her helmet down, “Thanks for keeping me company. And for making sure I don’t die,” she adds. 

“Just stay safe,” he tells her seriously. 

“I will. And if I ever need anything, I know you’ll be lurking in my corner.” She cockily starts her bike, speeding off into the distance. Derek simply watches her leave, desperately trying to convince himself she’s as intolerable as the two boys she’s friends with. 

       · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     After a rather long shift at the hospital, Fallon was happy to get home and into a pair of pajamas. She throws on a blank tank top and yellow sweatpants, letting out a refreshed sigh as she collapses on her bed. Her father had actually returned home an hour before she did and is already fast asleep. The night was pretty uneventful at first until Scott ended up showing up. He went to see Mr. Myers and sent the poor guy into a frenzy. He ended up having a seizure. 

The girl groans when she hears her phone ringing, wanting nothing more than to close her eyes and sleep for the next decade. She huffs, forcing herself off her bed and over to her desk where she left her phone. Stiles’ name pops up on the screen and she answers, “Is there a reason you’re calling me this late, freckles? Should I be worried?” 

“Come outside. Now,” he tells her without giving any other information. “Oh, and bring a jacket. It’s kinda nippy.” Then he hangs up. 

Fallon scoffs before looking out her window. Sure enough, his blue Jeep is sitting right in her front yard, lights off so they don’t alert Michael who is already asleep. She shakes her head, throwing on her newly gifted black leather jacket and a pair of converse before heading out the door. 

She jumps into the backseat, closing the door behind her. “This better be extremely important because I am exhausted,” she warns them. “And I will actually kill both of you, my love for you guys be damned.” 

“Relax, this is probably the most important thing you’ll ever do in your life, okay?” Stiles waves her off. 

“Then what are we doing?” She asks.

“Going back to school.” 

Her curiosity fades into anger, “I’m leaving,” she grips the door handle and gets ready to jump out. 

Stiles quickly reaches over, putting the child lock on all the doors before zooming down her street. She stares at him incredulously and he rolls his eyes. “It’s for Scott,” he clarifies.

The other boy nods, “I saw Derek. He told me that in order to remember I have to go back to where everything happened. Use my senses.” 

“So we’re going back to the bus?” Fallon blinks. “The crime scene. Where we will most likely get arrested if we’re caught.” 

“Yup,” Stiles answers, popping the “p.” 

“Great,” she mumbles. 

Stiles drives the back way to get to the school. The terrain is a bit rougher since it’s through the woods, but they’re less likely to be seen going this way. The jeep rolls up slowly to the fence that encases the bus barn. There’s still crime scene tape all around the area and Fallon immediately knows that this is a bad idea. 

The trio gets out of the car, walking towards the fence and Scott looks at them like they’re crazy. “Hey, no– just me. You guys need to keep watch.” 

Stiles stops in his tracks, looking offended by Scott’s words. “How come we’re the ones that have to keep watch?” 

“I’m not necessarily opposed,” Fallon admits honestly. “Less likely chance for me to get caught.” 

Stiles smacks her arm before trying to pull her with him as he scales the fence. Scott grabs her from Stiles, setting her gently on the ground before yanking the other boy back onto the gravel. “Because this is my responsibility,” Scott tells him. “I need to figure this out, and you two need to make sure I don’t get seen.” 

“Okay, why is it starting to feel like you're Batman and we’re Robin and Alfred?” Stiles asks accusatively, crossing his arms. Scott just stares at him exasperatedly making Stiles scoff, “Did you ever think we don’t want to be your sidekicks all the time?!” 

“Nobody’s Batman, Robin, or Alfred any of the time!” Scott argues, throwing his hands up. 

Stiles deflates, very disappointed by the resolution of this argument, “Not even some of the time?” 

“You can be my Batman, Sti,” Fallon pats his back. 

“Thank you,” he points to her with a victorious smile. “I take back every bad thing I’ve said to you.” 

Scott groans in annoyance, “Just stay here,” he commands them both sternly. 

“Oh my God! Fine,” Stiles grabs Fallon, and they both return to the jeep. But not before Stiles yells out, “Fallon gets front seat privileges!” 

“Yes!” She celebrates. “Score.” 

They both see Scott roll his eyes before jumping over the fence with ease. Stiles slumps down in his chair, crossing his arms with a pout on his face. Fallon glances at him before poking his side, “C’mon… you could’ve gotten stuck with worse. I think I’m pretty good company.” 

Stiles sighs, flipping his head over in her direction, “Did you mean what you said?” 

She smiles, “That you could be my Batman?” He nods. “Yes, I meant it,” she chuckles. “And I’ll be your Robin. Scott can be Alfred:”

“I like this new arrangement much better,” he agrees with her words. 

Fallon closes her eyes with a fond smile on her face as she listens to Stiles' broken up stereo playing today’s hits. She hums along, Stiles listening while also watching that Scott is still in the clear. There’s a comfortable silence until a topic pops up into Stiles’ head that he never got the answer to. 

“Fall, do you think I’m attractive to gay guys?” 

Her eyes shoot open and she sputters. If she could have done a spit take, she would have. “I’m sorry? What did you just ask me?” 

“Am I attractive to gay guys?” He reiterates, waving his hands around to emphasize his question. 

She blinks in shock, “Are you seriously asking this or is this some weird joke?” 

“Could you just answer the question please,” he huffs exasperated. 

Fallon turns to face him, crossing her legs so she can sit fully on the seat. “I’ll tell you what… I’ll answer, if you tell me if I’m attractive,” she proposes. 

Stiles sticks his hand out, “Deal.” 

They shake hands while simultaneously linking pinkies to solidify the exchange. Fallon tilts her head, taking in Stiles’ appearance. “Honestly? Yeah,” she nods. “I mean, you’re a good looking guy.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” she chuckles at the disbelief in his voice. “You need to give yourself more credit. You’re hot. My only piece of advice would be to maybe grow your hair out a little bit.” 

He furrows his eyebrows, “How long should I do it? Like manbun status?” 

Fallon snorts at the image of Stiles with a manbun. She shakes her head, “No. Just like a few inches from the top,” she explains. “Plus, if you were to have sex or anything like that, most people want something to grip onto and run their hands through.”

His jaw goes slack at her nonchalance. He stutters for a moment before getting his sentence out, “Uh- is-is that something you like? Or…?”

Fallon shrugs, “I guess. I mean, when I kiss a guy I usually run my hands through his hair. It makes the moment more intimate.” 

Stiles stares at her shocked, “You’ve kissed people?! Like, real people?”

She rolls her eyes at his question, “Yes, Stiles. Real people.” 

“Who?” He scoffs, not believing she did something like this and kept it from him for so long. 

Fallon glances out the window, “I’m not sure you wanna know.”

“Uh- yeah, I do,” he nods with a huff. “Who was it? Or was there multiple?” 

“Well, yeah…” she rubs the back of her neck. “One guy.” 

“What does that mean?! You’ve kissed a girl?” He asks, his brain about to explode from all the new information.

“It was for practice,” Fallon defends herself.

“Okay now I definitely need to know,” Stiles leans in closer, waiting for her to reveal everything.

Fallon looks unsure. She bites the inside of her cheek, not wanting to anger him by her answer. She knows he’ll take it personally or out of context. Or… maybe he’ll take it well and use her as a reference. 

“Do you want to hear the guy or the girl first?” 

“Girl,” he replies almost immediately. 

Fallon raises an eyebrow, a small smirk forming on her face. His face flushes red at how eager he must’ve just sounded, but she doesn’t make fun of him. “Okay, but you have to promise not to get mad.” 

“I don’t know why I would get mad, but sure. I pinky promise to the little dwarf dancing on the moon, now get on with it,” he rushes. 

She playfully glares at him, taking a deep breath before revealing the answer, “…Lydia.” 

His pupils are blown beyond wide as the name of his longtime crush flows through Fallon’s lips. He doesn’t know whether to be appalled or oddly aroused. She can see the conflict on his face so she tries to explain, “It was like seventh grade, and it didn’t mean anything. It was her idea. She said we needed to be ready and I was over at her house, so it just… happened.” 

He sits in silence for another moment, staring at her as if his mind short circuited. “W-was it good?” He queries. “Do her lips taste like cherry or strawberry? I could never figure out what chapstick she used,” he rambles off. “Could you give me pointers? What does she like? Does she like long hair?” 

Fallon laughs, glad that this was his reaction. “Okay, one– cherry, two– no, I will not give you pointers. That’s weird. Three– I don’t know, it lasted like five seconds three years ago, and four– yes.” She answers all of his questions and he mentally notes all of them. 

“Okay,” he nods his head. “Now, who was the guy?” 

That’s when she nervously looks down at her shoes, almost as if they’re the most interesting things in the world. He waits impatiently, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “Oh come on,” he urges, “there is literally nothing else that you could surprise me with.” 

“It was Scott,” she admits, blurting it out only to see if his last statement was true. 

It was not. 

“WHAT?!” 

“Yeah,” she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Last year. I went to drop him off after I got my motorcycle license and he invited me in for dinner as a thank you. He made me a cheeseburger and when I left, he walked me to the door and it felt like one of those moments where it should happen, but when it did it was like really weird,” she cringes at the memory. “It was good, don’t get me wrong, but we’re both not necessarily considered experienced. And we both regretted it right after because it felt like kissing a sibling.” 

“I hate you,” Stiles shakes his head. “Both of you, actually. How could you not have told me this sooner? Why him out of all people? Why have you never kissed me? Now I feel left out,” he pouts. 

He rambles off a few more questions so Fallon reaches over and places her hand over his mouth. She looks at him seriously, “Do you want me to kiss you?” She asks incredulously. “You’ve been kind of obsessed with Lydia since we knew what crushes were. I didn’t exactly think you’d be interested.”

She takes her hand back off now that he’s calmed down. He blinks rapidly, looking everywhere in the car and then back to her. “I-I don’t know. I mean, would you actually kiss me if I asked you to?” 

Fallon shrugs, “Sure, why not?”

He gapes at her, “I don’t understand what’s going on right now.” 

She throws her head back, letting out a wonderful laugh. It’s a genuine one. Fallon has always had different levels of laughter, and this has to be her most hearty laugh, which is usually accompanied by a snort. She glances at him with admiration, patting his cheek, “Don’t stress about it. If there’s a time in the future where you still want me to kiss you, I will. But I’m afraid if I do right now, I might send you to an early grave,” she jokes.

 He nods in agreement, a small smile breaking out on his face, “So, can I get that in writing, or…?”

“I’ll remember,” she reassures him. “Just gotta ask. And obviously when we’re both single.” 

“Right,” he clears his throat, wondering if he will ever take her up on this offer. 

“Okay, now it's your turn,” she pokes his chest. “Am I attractive?” 

He stares at her as if she’s stupid, “I thought just asking you to kiss me kind of answered that question.”

Fallon smacks his chest at his patronizing tone, but she finds it endearing. “Whatever,” she playfully rolls her eyes. “I was just curious.” 

“Obviously you’re attractive,” he answers. “You’re beautiful, smart, you play lacrosse, you can sing, you’re happy, you’ve got the best freakin’ smile in the world. Yes, you’re absolutely gorgeous,” he lists off genuinely, looking into her eyes softly. 

Her cheeks heat up at the list of compliments. Her and Stiles might bicker a lot, but it’s moments like these that they share between just them that mean so much. Their friendship has always been filled with teasing and love. She shoves him gently, “Don’t be weird,” she grumbles. 

He pushes her back, “I think the correct response is ‘thanks for the compliment.’ Which you need to learn how to accept by the way.” 

Fallon goes to respond, but is stopped when a pair of headlights heading towards the exact bus Scott is in flash in their direction. She gasps, “Crap.” Her arms flail around for a second before she settles on reaching over Stiles and slamming her hand down on the horn. A loud honk blares throughout the quiet space, catching Scott’s attention. He frantically turns and runs down the aisle of the bus, hopping out the front door, barely hurdling over the crime scene tape before he leaps up onto a red SUV. He uses the vehicle as a vault to flip over the chain-link fence like a gymnast. He somersaults lightly as he makes contact with the ground before rushing towards Stiles and Fallon. 

“Scott, hurry up!” Fallon whisper yells, making hand motions to get him to pump his legs faster. 

Stiles anxiously taps the steering wheel until Scott is successfully in the car. As soon as the boy slides in, Stiles turns his key in the ignition and hits the gas as soon as Scott tells him to go. The three of them speed away from the school, the empty back road actually soothing them from the high adrenaline situation. Stiles actually kept to his word, allowing Fallon to remain in the passenger seat. Not that they had enough time to switch positions anyway. 

Fallon turns in her seat to look at Scott who has his eyes closed and his breathing rather heavily. “Did it work?” She asks. “Do you remember what happened?” 

Scott glances through the back windshield before he replies, “Yeah, I was there last night. And the blood? A lot of it was mine,” he reveals.

Stiles’ eyes widen in alarm, “So you did attack him?”

He shakes his head rapidly, “No. I-I-I saw glowing eyes in the bus, but they weren't mine–” he narrows his eyes, trying to put the pieces together of what he just saw. “It was Derek.” 

Fallon’s heart sinks. She furrows her eyebrows, “H-hold on–”

Stiles cuts her off, “What about the driver?” He asks, not able to wait to for Fallon to get her statement out. 

“I think I was actually trying to protect him.” 

Fallon shakes her head, “This doesn’t make sense,” she pokes a hole in Scott’s logic. “Derek wouldn’t sit here and purposefully help you remember that he attacked the driver.” 

“It’s gotta be a pack thing,” Stiles proposes.

Scott tilts his head curiously, “What do you mean?” 

“Like an initiation,” Stiles elaborates. “You do the kill together.” 

“Because ripping someone’s throat out is a real bonding experience,” he scoffs sarcastically. 

“Yeah, but the good news is that you didn’t do it,” Fallon’s voice lightens reassuringly, even though she doesn’t believe Derek did it either. “Which means you’re not the killer. And it also means that–”

“I can go out with Allison!” Scott says excitedly, a dopey smile on his face.

Fallon and Stiles shoot him an offended look, “I was actually gonna say that means you won’t murder us,” she clarifies, tilting her head at his priorities.

Scott looks at them sheepishly, realizing he hadn’t even thought about that part yet. “Oh, yeah… that too.” 

       · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Fallon messes with her curls nervously as she and Stiles run up to the McCall residence. She notices Melissa’s car in the driveway and knows she’s probably already inside sleeping after her long shift at the hospital. Stiles has picked her up and informed her that Garrison Myers died from his injuries while Scott was out on his double date with Allison. The two friends felt more than compelled to share the news with Scott, especially after what he discovered on the bus. 

Fallon pushes Stiles up so he can reach the window on the side of the house. He slides the glass open before falling unceremoniously into the room. She chuckles, grabbing onto a ledge and hoisting herself up. Stiles grabs her arm, pulling her in as well. Of course, he stumbles backwards from the force and she ends up falling on top of him. They both groan from the impact, noses practically touching. Stiles smiles nervously and Fallon playfully rolls her eyes, rolling over to get off of him. 

The two of them stand up, Fallon moving to close the window. The duo doesn’t even notice the shadowy figure approaching them from behind with a baseball bat in hand. They spin around and come face to face with a terrified looking Melissa. 

“WHOA!” Stiles screams, running behind Fallon for protection. 

She puts her hand in front of her face, the three of them screaming at the sudden intrusion. The bat flails wildly and the two teens squeeze their eyes shut, bracing for any impact. After a moment, they finally stop. Melissa, exasperated and irritated, puts down the bat and half-screams at them. 

“Stiles! Fallon! What are you doing here?!” 

Stiles' voice is just as exasperated, as though Melissa is the one in the wrong here, especially when he remembers that Scott almost did the exact same thing to them with the bat. “What are we doing here?” He puffs out a breath of air. “God, do either of you even play baseball?”

“What?” Melissa asks, completely overwhelmed. 

Suddenly, the light flicks on, revealing that Scott has returned home. Melissa wastes no time turning towards him and scolding him, “Can you please tell your friends to use the front door?” 

“But we lock the front door,” Scott says obliviously. “They wouldn’t be able to get in.” 

Melissa gives him a pointed look, “Yeah, exactly.” Her mind travels back to the mandated curfew and changes the subject, “And, by the way, do any of you care that there’s a police-enforced curfew?”

The three friends make eye contact, shrugging. “No,” they reply simultaneously. 

Melissa rolls her eyes to the ceiling and mutters under her breath, “No.” She sighs, throwing her hands up as a sign of defeat, “All right, then. Well, you know what? That's about enough parenting for me for one night, so…” She tosses the bat onto Scott’s bed next to where Stiles and Fallon are before turning to walk towards the door. She pauses, kissing Fallon on the forehead as if she were her own daughter before bidding her son goodnight. 

Scott smiles sweetly at his mom, “Goodnight.” 

When Scott turns back to his two friends, he takes note of the serious looks on their faces. He frowns in concern, dragging his desk chair over so he can sit in front of them. “What?” He asks. 

Stiles hesitates for a moment, him and Fallon sharing a nervous glance. He turns to Scott, fidgeting with his hands, “My dad left for the hospital fifteen minutes ago… It’s the bus driver.” 

Scott looks at them confused and Fallon sighs, “My dad’s the one that operated on him. They’re saying he succumbed to his wounds,” she says sadly. 

“Succumbed?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“Scott, he’s dead.” 

       · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Pulling up to the burnt down Hale house, Fallon begins questioning every decision she’s made in the past two hours. It’s about one in the morning and no one knows where she is. She didn’t tell Scott or Stiles and her father wasn’t even home, finishing off his shift at the hospital. But she couldn’t help her curiosity. She needs to know what’s going on and she can’t wait for Scott to come to his senses and ask. 

She parks her bike, hopping off of it. She has a feeling Derek already knows she’s there, but she still walks up to the door, knocking on it as if she were visiting a friend. No one answers, but the blackened wood still swings backwards. The late night wind howls, making her turn around in paranoia. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she gazes into the dark woods. When she notices his black Camaro on the side of the house, she can see that one of his windows has been smashed. She tilts her head.

“What are you doing here?” 

Fallon spins around, her eyes going wide as she watches Derek walk down the dinky steps. The moon casts a bright glow over his body, contrasting the darkness of the broken down home. She notices small gash marks covering his arms, but they seem to be healing right before her eyes. It’s remarkable. 

“What happened to you?” She asks her own question rather than answering his. 

He finishes his journey down the stairs, using the towel in his hand to wipe off the remaining blood before the gashes completely close. “Scott,” he answers, tossing the cloth into a far corner. She looks around the home, splintered wood everywhere. The interior looks like it’s been freshly destroyed and judging by his roughed up appearance, she can only assume that a fight broke out between the two. “Now answer me. What are you doing here?” 

The girl swallows thickly, her hands clenched at her side. “The bus driver,” she begins. “He died tonight. And… I-I don’t want to be in the dark about it. I can’t wait for Scott to sit here and figure it out. I want to know now,” she looks him in the eyes. “You’re the one who told him to go back to that bus to figure out if he killed Mr. Meyers. He said he saw you as the one hurting him. But I can’t for the life of me figure out why you would purposely remind him that it was you, seeing as he and Stiles had no problem turning you into the police.” 

“You want to know if I killed him.” 

“I want to know what the hell is going on,” she corrects. “So if that entails you being a murderer, then yeah, I’d like to know. Because I’m not going to keep defending you to them when I barely even know you. And then you actually end up being some psycho killer who ripped his own sister in half.” 

He remains completely calm despite her erratic demeanor. He shrugs his shoulders, maintaining his distance. “Do you think I killed him?” 

Fallon pauses. She clenches her jaw tightly before sighing irritatedly, “No,” she answers with a scoff. “I don’t think you did anything, but I should. I should believe that you did it because everything points to you. And as far as I’m concerned, you haven’t given me any reason to believe you’re not a killer. Yet I just don’t. Something in me tells me you’re innocent. So I want an explanation. You’ve been telling me to ‘stay safe,’ well then clue me in.” 

Listening to her heartbeat, despite her being exasperated and no doubt exhausted from how late it is, it’s steady. She’s telling him the full and honest truth. She really believes he didn’t do it. His face remains blank but he inhales deeply, “There’s another.” 

She furrows her eyebrows, “Another what? Werewolf?” She asks incredulously. 

“Yes,” he nods. “He’s the one who killed the bus driver, and my sister. He’s the one who bit Scott,” he explains, causing the girl to take a moment to process. “It’s called an Alpha. Scott and I are Betas which means this thing is much more powerful, more ferocious than both of us. My sister came looking for him and that’s how she ended up dead. Now I’m here trying to find him, but I can’t do it without Scott.” 

“Why?” She narrows her eyes. 

“Because he’s part of his pack. He bit him which means they have a connection,” Derek elaborates. “I can’t find him without Scott’s help. That’s why I’ve been telling you to be careful. You’ve seen what this Alpha is capable of.” 

“So why not just be honest from the get go? Why make Scott, all three of us, go through this whole process just to get a glimpse of what we’re really dealing with?” She scoffs. “You could’ve told us there was another from the beginning.” 

“You wouldn’t have believed me,” he says. “None of you would have, especially them. I went to jail because they thought I killed my sister, and immediately assumed I also murdered the bus driver. You all needed to figure it out on your own. And now, you all know.” 

“What do we do?” She looks up at him. He simply stares at her so she huffs, “If you need Scott’s help, that means you’re getting Stiles and I’s help too. So… what do we do?” 

“I don’t need your help,” he tells her and begins to walk away. 

“Well you’re getting it,” she insists, following after him. “Tell me what needs to be done.” 

“Go home, Fallon,” he dismisses her. “This is beyond what you can do.” 

“Try me.” 

“I said, go home,” his command sent chills down her spine. His voice drops a few octaves, his eyes briefly flashing yellow as an intimidation tactic. He’s trying to scare her. 

“No,” she breathes out shakily. 

“You’re scared,” he blatantly states. “If you can’t handle this, what makes you think you can handle an Alpha?” 

“I’ll figure it out,” Fallon persists. “What can I do to help?” 

“Stay out of the way,” he grumbles, making his way back up the stairs without so much as a second glance.

Wolf Moon 1x01

Episode 2

 Loud music blares through Fallon’s headphones, keeping her in the zone as she finishes her fourth set of pushups. Thirty reps each. The alarm clock on her night stand read eleven-thirty PM. Rather late for the night before school, but she was determined to get a couple more minutes of training in before the big day. 

Fallon happened to be one of the star players on the lacrosse team at Beacon Hills high school. She worked her tail off to get to the position she’s in. She’s the only female on the team and with that came a lot of struggles with the males on the team. Coach Finstock though was never one to let the sexism slide, especially when she had more talent than most of the guys on the team. 

There weren't many other sports in the small town. She would’ve loved to play volleyball, softball, or even field hockey, but none of those were really options. Lacrosse was everything, so Fallon made sure she was good at it. Her father never protested her sudden passion for the sport. It became a good outlet for the emotions she likes to keep suppressed. 

It also was a good way to keep busy in such a boring town. Nothing really happens in Beacon Hills. It’s the same thing everyday. The only thing that provides a little relief for the brunette is her two best friends. Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski. The same two boys she met in the third grade. They were the only things that made the bleak town bearable. She especially enjoyed their weekly movie nights which involved many complaints from Stiles when Scott would refuse to watch Star Wars. He was especially peeved when Fallon had managed to convince him to watch the entire Harry Potter series without much effort. But even though he was mad, he still enjoyed her pick just as much as Scott did. 

Standing up from her workout position, she wipes the sweat off her forehead before taking a sip from her water bottle. She briefly glances at the unfinished book on her head and internally groans at the fact she’ll have to discuss it in English the next day. Fallon absolutely loves to read, but tends to have a hard time when it turns into an assignment rather than something she does for fun. 

She takes a moment to stretch her muscles, hearing a satisfying crack come from her back when she twists. She sighs contently before throwing on one of the many oversized shirts she stole from Scott and slipping on a pair of sweats rather than the spandex she was just wearing. The rubber band that was once holding her hair in a tight ponytail is pulled out, letting it cascade over her shoulders in its natural position. A frown makes its way on her face when she sees how frizzy the top is. 

There’s not much time to fix the mess as her phone begins to buzz on the wooden desk that holds her large mirror. She furrows her eyebrows, wondering who would be calling this late on a school night. A familiar smirk takes over her face as she sees her most recent embarrassing photo of Stiles pop up on her screen. 

She lifts the phone to her ear, “Hello freckles,” she greets. 

“Hey, would you look at that? The Incredible Hulk answered,” he teases making Fallon roll her eyes. The Incredible Hulk is something he and Scott frequently called her after she had gotten in trouble for the third time over punching a kid. In her defense, it was always to protect Scott and Stiles. But she has been told on multiple occasions that she doesn’t usually think before smashing, hence the nickname. 

“Shut up,” she says with a smile. “What’s up though? Why’re you calling so late?” 

Her question is answered with a small pebble hitting her window with a small ‘click.’ Fallon sighs, knowing her buzzcut friend is waiting for her to open said entryway. She clicks her tongue, finding the whole situation amusing. When she walks over to the glass box, she looks down to see Stiles frantically waving his arms in the dark. His jeep is waiting just up the street, lights off in order not to disturb the neighbors. 

She rolls her eyes but nonetheless puts her makeshift ladder out the window. She, Scott, and Stiles had made this for her room a while back so they could sneak in late when needed. Not that Michael would ever mind, but they thought it would be easier than having to make a bunch of noise getting downstairs. 

She watches with her arms crossed as Stiles ducks and rolls into her room like a ninja. It doesn’t look as graceful as he probably assumed it did, but she’s never been one to burst his bubble. Unless it’s funny. 

His roll ends up with him hitting his head on the corner of her desk, due to him overshooting the size of her room compared to his body. He groans quietly and sprawls out like a starfish. 

Fallon shakes her head, walking over to help him up. “I knew that was gonna happen.” 

“Shh,” Stiles puts his finger to his lips. “You know nothing,” he claims with a whisper before gratefully accepting her hand to pull him up. 

“Oh, but I know you,” she counters. “And every time you do that, you manage to hit your head on at least one piece of furniture in here.” 

“You know what?” He challenges. “One of these days I’m gonna prove you wrong when I roll in here so smoothly that you won’t even see me. Count on it. Cause it’s gonna happen.” 

“Mhm, yeah, I’m sure it will,” she replies with fake enthusiasm. “Now do you wanna tell me why you’re sneaking into my room quarter till midnight or…?” 

“Right!” Stiles shakes his head, getting back on track. “Well, I overheard my dad’s call–”

“Meaning you eavesdropped,” she chimes in. 

“Tomato, potato,” he waves her off. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that there’s half a dead body in the woods, and I need you and Scotty to help me find it.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Fallon raises an eyebrow. “Stiles, why the hell would I voluntarily go look for a dead body?” She asks him incredulously. “You shouldn’t even be wanting to look for a dead body. We have school tomorrow.” 

“Seriously?” He scoffs. “That’s the line you draw? School?” Fallon gives him a pointed look making him roll his eyes, “You seriously need to sort out your priorities.” 

“Stiles, I do not want to go out and find a dead dude!” She exclaims. “That’s a trauma I don’t need this early on in my life.” 

“C’mon,” he begs with his perfectly brown puppy dog eyes. “Please? You’ll have Scotty and I with you the whole time. What’s better than trauma bonding as a group, huh?” He smiles, placing his hands on her shoulders to shake her a bit. “Besides, how cool would it be if we did find it? Then we’d finally have a cool story to tell.” 

Fallon feels her resolve breaking. She taps her foot before sighing, “What did Scott say?” 

That’s when his smile falls. He clears his throat awkwardly before rubbing the back of his neck, “I haven’t exactly um… told him yet,” he admits. “I came here first.” 

“Why?” She asks but feels as though she already knows the answer.

“I uh– Okay, if I tell you gotta promise not to get mad because I don’t mean it offensively,” he sticks his pink out, waiting for her to lock hers with his. Fallon sighs but nonetheless links their pinkies together. Not that she would’ve gotten mad anyways. It’s just fun watching him squirm when she pretends to be mad. “I just figured you would be easier to convince,” he admits shyly. “And then Scott would follow if I got you on board.”

The brunette smirks at his answer, “You’re not wrong,” she concedes. “I suppose it wouldn’t be the most terrible thing getting one final adventure in before school starts.” 

Stiles claps loudly before dancing around in a circle, “Yes!” He celebrates. 

Fallon snags her jacket off the chair in front of her desk, slipping it over her body. “Alright, let’s go,” she nods at the window. 

Stiles furrows his eyebrows as he begins to follow her down the ladder, “I-Is that my jacket?” He asks her rather loudly as their feet hit the ground. 

Fallon shrugs with a small grin, “Maybe.” 

“Yo-you can’t just keep stealing our clothes, Fall!” Stiles scolds, gesturing to the whole top half of her outfit. Both items were from his and Scott’s closet. “I’m pretty sure half of your closet consists of our stuff. We’re gonna have to start going to school naked at this point.”

“Oh please,” she rolls her eyes. “You guys don’t even wear the stuff I take anyway.” 

“I wore that jacket last week!” He points out, opening the passenger side door to his jeep for her. “Until apparently you stole it.” 

Fallon raises her eyebrows at him and moves to take off the zip up, “If you really want it back that badly–”

“No!” Stiles stops her, making the girl smile smugly. “Just– just keep it,” he grumbles. “You already know it looks better on you anyway.” 

She reaches over, patting the side of his cheek, “That’s the spirit,” she teases. “Now, step on it. I’d like to get at least three hours of sleep after all this is over.” 

Fallon admires how much Stiles blatantly ignores the law. Watching him swerve around each corner in a Jeep that is only one duct tape roll away from falling apart is impressive. She wonders if he’d still be like this if his dad wasn’t the sheriff? Not that Noah wouldn’t put his son in a jail cell for his behavior, but it’s much less likely to happen. 

When the two get to Scott’s, Fallon watches with amused eyes as Stiles attempts to climb onto the roof. She shakes her head at his grunting before stepping forward to give him a small boost. He mutters a thanks before telling her to wait for him on the porch. The brunette takes a seat on the railing, kicking her legs back and forth as she waits for Scott to emerge from his house. She didn’t bother texting him, figuring that he heard Stiles’ pitter patter on the roof. 

She assumed correctly as she heard the front door to the McCall house creak open. She laughs quietly as Scott barely pokes his head out of the doorway before coming out with a bat clutched tightly in his hand. Before he even gets a chance to turn the other way, Fallon is already standing directly behind him. 

“Hey Scotty,” she whispers with a tap on the shoulder. 

He jumps with a high pitched yelp, turning around to see one part of the chaotic trio. “Fallon! Don’t. Do. That,” he exhales loudly, trying to calm his nerves. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

That’s when Stiles drops from the rooftop, dangling top down causing Scott to scream once more. The loud reaction makes Stiles screech in the same pitch as Scott, both of them freaking out at the other one freaking out. Scott’s knuckles are almost white with how hard he’s gripping the baseball bat. 

“Stiles!” Scott scolds. “Jesus! Wha– Why are you guys at my house?!” 

“You weren’t answering your phone!” Stiles yells back before glancing at the weapon in his hands, “Why do you have a bat?” 

“I thought you were a predator,” he answers obviously. 

Stiles looks at him like he’s the dumbest person alive, “A pre– I– wha–” he clears his throat, not having the words to address Scott’s concern. “Look, I know it's late, but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even State Police.” 

“For what?” Scott wonders. 

“Two joggers found a body in the woods,” Fallon answers as Stiles drops down, quite gracefully, from the roof. It baffles her how he can’t sneak into her window without injuring himself but flinging off a roof he does absolutely fine. 

Scott’s eyes widen, “A dead body?” 

“No, a body of water,” Stiles responds sarcastically. “Yes, dumbass, a dead body.” 

He climbs over the railing to join his friends on the patio. He leans his body weight on Fallon making the girl shove him playfully. “You mean like murdered?” He asks them, his brain not fully processing any of the information. 

“Nobody knows yet,” Fallon shrugs. “Just that it’s a woman, probably mid to late twenties,” she regurgitates the information Stiles had given her on the ride over. 

Scott shakes his head, “Hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for?” 

“That’s the best part,” Stiles all but squeals, buzzing in his beat up sneakers. “They only found half!” He can see the apprehension on Scott’s face and narrows his eyes, “We’re going.” 

         · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     “I can’t believe you seriously agreed to do this,” Scott says to Fallon as they trek through the woods, trying to avoid stepping on anything that will make too loud of a sound. 

“It doesn’t take much to convince me to do anything,” she points out. “Plus, we’re always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town. So this gives us something to do.”

“Exactly!” Stiles high fives his best friend. “Thank you! See? This is why I went to get her first.” 

Scott huffs loudly, his asthma starting to flare up with all the sporadic walking. He loves Stiles and Fallon, but they can’t seem to keep a steady pace for the life of them. “I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow,” he complains. 

“Right, ‘cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort,” he mocks. “There’s only one person in this group who is actually good at lacrosse, and it’s definitely not you.” 

Fallon smacks his back, “Be nice.” She scolds. 

“Well, I plan on playing this year,” Scott states confidently. “In fact, I’m making first line.” 

Fallon smiles, finding Scott’s newfound faith in himself refreshing. They had been practicing a lot this summer. Both of them have gotten a lot better, she just hopes coach sees it the way she does. 

“Hey, that’s the spirit. Everyone should have a dream,” he pauses for dramatic effect,” even if it’s a pathetically unrealistic one.” 

“I think you’ll do great,” Fallon pats his back. “If you wanna make it off the bench, you just gotta believe in yourself.” 

“What is this a Disney movie?” Stiles scoffs with a laugh. “Sing a song and do a little dance all about faith and suddenly your first line? That what you did, Fall? ‘Cause that would explain a lot.” 

“Shut up,” she shoots a nasty glare at him. “I’m just saying you both have the talent to do it. Scott just might have a better chance ‘cause at least he has hand-eye coordination.” 

“I so have hand-eye coordinati–” Before he can finish his sentence, he yelps in pain as he smacks his hand on a tree when using it to talk. 

“Would you look at that?” She smirks, strutting past him with her arm around Scott’s shoulders. 

Stiles grumbles something incoherent, no doubt cursing Fallon out for the comedic timing of that situation. He barges forward, separating her and Scott by placing himself in the middle. He wraps his own arms around the two of them and wiggles his eyebrows, “Who says there’s a crowd?” 

Scott and Fallon both laugh as they move branches out of their face, “Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” He inquires. 

Fallon can’t help but wonder the same thing. She feels stupid for not asking prior to coming out here, but she was too caught up in the spectacle that is Stiles. 

There’s an elongated and uncomfortable silence between them as they await a response. “Huh. I didn’t even think about that,” he reveals thoughtfully. How ironic. 

Fallon narrows her eyes at him, “And what happens when whoever murdered the body is still wondering out here? Waiting in the shadows for three idiotic teenagers to come rolling through.” 

“Also something I didn’t think about.” 

“Great,” she nods with a faux smile. “It’s really comforting to know you planned out what could potentially be the end of our lives with such a grueling attention to detail.” 

“I know,” he says, feeding into her sarcasm. 

As the three of them begin climbing up hill, Fallon stays behind Scott to keep an eye on him. She can hear him heaving loudly and knows that he’s going to need to stop soon. He trips over a small twig due to lack of light since Stiles is so far ahead. Fallon puts her hands on his back to guide him up the rest of the way.

“Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?” Scott pauses, leaning against a tree to take a hit of his inhaler. 

Suddenly, Stiles is flying forward and pushing his body so low to the ground that Fallon was convinced he wanted to become part of the leaves. That is until she sees the search party from the Sheriff’s station a mere few feet ahead. She yanks Scott off the tree before pulling him down towards Stiles. All three of them lay stomach down growing increasingly more nervous as they hear the search dogs barking. Fallon reaches over, turning off Stiles’ flashlight since he seems to think that won’t give away their presence.

They wait for a brief moment until the group of people begins turning the other way. Stiles smirks before shooting up from his spot and sprinting forward. “Hey, come on!” Scott groans, standing up along with Fallon. “Stiles!” 

Weaving through trees in the dark was not Stiles' most brilliant idea. Fallon narrowly avoids tripping over a tree trunk, gaining some ground as she begins to catch up to Stiles. She can hear Scott wheezing behind her so she just hopes he can manage to keep up. 

“Stiles!” Fallon yells, trying to get him to slow down. 

He seems to hear her warning scream before slowing down. He squints to try and see her form through the darkness. A loud barking catches his attention as he spins around, screaming when a bright light gets shone in his face. Not even a second later, he’s launched forward by Fallon’s body colliding with him from behind. 

The two teens groan loudly. Fallon places a hand over her face to shield her eyes from the light. “You seriously couldn’t have stopped before literally ramming into me?” Stiles asks, pushing himself off the ground before helping her up. 

“It’s not like I could see,” the shorter girl seethes. “You’re the only one with a freaking flashlight.” 

Stiles goes to argue but the deputy holding a light in their face already looks tired of their antics. He goes to grab the two by their forearms until the exact voice the teens didn’t want to hear calls out. 

“Hang on, hang on,” Noah Stilinski steps forward, looking at Fallon and Stiles with different levels of disappointment. “These little delinquents belong to me.” 

Fallon smiles at the man awkwardly, feeling shame rise in her throat at his disapproving gaze. She tries her best to clean the mud off her sweats but figures it would just be best to wait until she gets home. “Hey Sheriff,” she says meekly. 

Noah can’t help but let himself smile a little, “Hey Fall.” His stoic demeanor returns as he switches his attention over to his son, “So, Stiles, do you, uh, listen in to all of my phone calls?” He questions, knowing exactly how his son got the information to be out here. 

“No, heh.” Stiles tries to deny, but the stern look from his father causes him to fess up. “Not the boring ones.” 

Sheriff Stilinski raises his flashlight to analyze the woods around him, “Okay. Now, where's the third stooge to make up this incomplete set?” He asks, continuing to look around.

Fallon internally hopes Scott stays hidden. The last thing they all need is for all three of them to get caught. “Scott?” Stiles asks.

Noah nods, “Who else?” 

“Sc-Scott’s home,” Fallon covers. “He was smart and said he wanted to get a good night's sleep for the first day back at school.”

Stiles looks at Fallon, impressed with her lie. He nods in agreement, “Ye– Yeah. It’s just us two. In the woods. Alone.” He glances at his best friend who nods her head rather obnoxiously. 

The trio never really had trouble lying. They do way too many mischievous things not to be able to lie with ease. However, whenever Fallon does lie, especially to Noah and Melissa, Scott’s mom, it slowly chips away at her soul. They trust her more than they trust their own kids, whereas Fallon’s dad seems to trust the boys more. She’s a year older than them which adds to the reason why their parents take her word more often than Scott and Stiles. It’s a maturity difference. 

It’s not that Michael didn’t trust his daughter, he just knows she’s just as bad as the boys are, if not worse. Even though he spends a lot of his time at the hospital, being as he’s a well renowned surgeon, he still knows his daughter. His job is the reason why they move so much. When she was younger he used to be a surgeon in the military and they would have to move to different bases. But after her mom died, Michael decided it was time to settle down and give Fallon a chance to actually have a childhood. His daughter finally found a group of friends that’s a perfect fit for her, and he couldn’t take that away. Hence why he’s found a steady job at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. 

Noah looks in between the two unsurely, “Scott, you out there? Scott?” When no one answers, the sheriff sighs before wrapping his arms around the two troublemakers. “Well, young man, I'm gonna walk you both back to your car. And you are going to drive Fallon home where I expect an update that you made it safely,” he says to the young girl who nods. “Then when I get back, you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy.” 

Fallon nods, giving him a tight-lipped smile. She looks down at her feet as Noah lectures the two. He more so scolds Carver for listening to Stiles and going along with his crazy plans. The two of them say nothing and try to take responsibility for their actions. Well, Fallon tries. Stiles probably isn’t listening. Once the blue Jeep comes into view, Noah pushes the two gently towards the vehicle, sending them off. “Please Fallon, don’t sink down to his level. You’re the only one out of the three of you that really has a brain,” he says, poking fun at his son. 

“Hey!” Stiles scoffs. 

“I won’t, sir. Thank you for not calling my dad,” she hugs him gratefully. 

“Of course, kiddo.” He pats her back. “Now get going you two. You got school in the morning.” 

As soon as the doors to the jeep shut, Fallon glances back out into the woods. Stiles starts the car, staring at his friend curiously, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried about Scott,” she tells him, not looking away from the window. “I didn’t see where he went. And how is he gonna get home?” She wonders worriedly. 

Stiles places his hand on her thigh, squeezing it softly to get her attention. She turns her head towards him and his soft brown eyes force her to listen, “He’ll be fine,” he reassures her. “Scott’s smart. Plus, it’s only a ten minute walk from here to his house. He can call if something bad happens.” 

She bites the inside of her cheek, but ultimately nods. She takes her best friend's hand in hers, squeezing it as he drives her back home. 

       · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Fallon whips her motorcycle into the small parking spot near the front of the high school, Scott hugging her back tightly trying not to fall off. She laughs before putting the kickstand down and taking the small key out of the ignition. Scott is the first one to hop off the bike, taking off the extra helmet she purchased just for him so he wouldn’t always have to bike to school. 

“I’m telling you Scotty, I think it would be beneficial if I got a sidecar for you to ride in,” she teases, tightening her backpack straps around her shoulders. 

“No way,” he shakes his head. “I already hold onto you like a desperate koala bear, I don’t need to look like an actual child too.” 

Fallon laughs, looping her arm through his. She’s careful to avoid the bloody bandage that covers his side. Scott had called her and Stiles that morning, informing them that he had been bit by some creature in the woods when trying to find his way home. He confided in Fallon, revealing that he believes what bit him was a wolf. She, of course, was skeptical as there aren’t really many wolf sightings in California, let alone Beacon Hills. But she wasn’t going to make him feel worse about his situation. She did leave him in the woods alone which resulted in this injury. Plus, she can just leave it to Stiles to burst his bubble. 

“Hey, Donovan!” Her friend Danny Mahealani greets with a smile. “You ready for practice?” 

Fallon smiles back, doing a little handshake with him, “Yeah, I’ll see you there!” 

The goalie is quick to run off, catching up with his best friend, Jackson Whittemore. The blonde boy with an icy exterior looks over at Scott and Fallon, sending a small nod of acknowledgement to the brunette girl, completely ignoring Scott’s presence. Falling waves at him in response as she and Scott walk up to Stiles. 

“I still can’t believe you willingly talk to that guy,” Stiles glares at Jackson with distaste. 

Fallon rolls her eyes, “Good morning to you too.” 

“I’m just saying,” he defends himself. “He’s kind of a jerk.” 

“He’s really not that bad once you get to know him,” Fallon reasons. “Don't get me wrong, he can be a complete asshole to people he doesn’t like, but he’s not that bad.” 

“You got me out of a potential three month grounding so I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” Stiles tells her before giving Scott his undivided attention. He gestures to his side where the bite mark is, “Okay, let’s see this thing.” 

Fallon removes herself from his arm, giving him space to lift up his shirt. Scott winces as the material lightly hits the bandage. She can’t help but scrunch her face up with disgust. Even after he changed the badge this morning blood is still seeping through it. She can’t even imagine the amount of pain he must be in. 

Stiles on the other hand was completely enamored with the situation.

“Ooh!” Stiles almost admires the wound, reaching out to touch it. 

Fallon slaps his hand roughly, “Dude!” She looks at him like he’s crazy. “Boundaries.” 

Stiles frowns, shaking his hand to get rid of the burning sensation her smack left. Scott pulls his shirt down, “It was too dark to see much, but I’m pretty sure it was a wolf.” 

Fallon discreetly looks at Stiles to see that he is in as much disbelief as she was when Scott told her his theory. “A wolf bit you?” Stiles asks, sending the shorter brunette a bewildered expression. 

“That's what he said this morning too,” Fallon sighs. 

“No, not a chance,” Stiles denies bluntly. Which is what Fallon wanted to say, but she didn’t have the heart to ruin Scott’s story. 

“I heard a wolf howling,” he insists.

“No, you didn’t,” Stiles laughs at the absurdity. 

Scott scoffs, “What do you mean, ‘No I didn’t’? How do you know what I heard?” He asks, slightly offended. 

Fallon tilts her head sympathetically, “Scotty, California doesn’t have wolves. They haven’t in like sixty years,” she explains. 

“Really?” Scott stops in his tracks, surprised by the new information. 

“Yes, really!” Stiles throws his hands up for emphasis. “There are no wolves in California.” 

“Okay, so since we’ve settled this, can we get to class please?” Fallon asks, grabbing their arms to drag them through the bright blue double doors. 

Scott shakes his head with a cocky smile, “All right, well, if you don’t believe me about the wolf then you’re definitely not gonna believe me about when I tell you… I found the body,” he reveals. 

Fallon’s jaw drops. She blinks rapidly, hoping she truly just heard what he said. Stiles seems to be in the same state of shock before completely freaking out. “You– Are you kidding me?” He bounces up and down. 

“No, man,  I wish.” Scott readjusts his lacrosse bag. “I’m gonna have nightmares for a month.” 

Stiles and Fallon have a mini freak out together, laughing at how their little escapade didn’t end in complete disaster. “What half was it?” The older girl asks curiously. 

“The top half,” he tells her. “And let me just say, it was brutal. It looked like her body was ripped in half by some kind of animal,” he recalls, shaking his head to rid his mind of the haunting image.

“Oh my God, that is freaking awesome!” Stiles exclaims. “I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that’s happened to this town since– since the birth of Lydia Martin…” Freckles trails off, watching after his long time crush as she walks up the steps.

Lydia’s strawberry blonde hair flows beautifully behind her with every step. Each and every curl in its rightful position. Her lips glisten under the sunlight from the cherry lip gloss she applies every morning. Her dress fits her figure wonderfully as it moves up and down with each step she takes. Her heels click, catching everyone’s attention as she struts by. It’s a crime that she hasn’t been recruited by a modeling agency yet. And by the drool on Stiles' chin, he seems to agree. 

“Hey, Lydia, you look–” 

“Hey Fallon, love the shirt,” Lydia swiftly cuts him off, looking directly at the brunette as she compliments the long sleeved, off the shoulder red shirt. It’s accompanied by her low rise black ripped jeans and white converse. 

Fallon smiles politely, “Thanks, Lyds. You look beautiful, as always.” 

“I know,” Lydia confidently hums before walking into the school with one of her many friends. 

Stiles looks at Fallon, steam practically coming out of his ears. He’s fuming. She can’t help but laugh at his unfortunate circumstances. He’s had a crush on the girl since they knew what the word crush meant. It always peeved him when Lydia would only talk to Fallon. He supposes it makes sense since pretty people always seem to herd together. 

“I hate you,” Stiles directs jokingly to their girl best friend. “After all these years, you still haven’t even gotten her to look in my direction.” 

“I can’t force her to look at you, Stiles,” Fallon chuckles. “Lydia’s her own human. She does as she pleases. Hell, I'm lucky if she even looks my way.” 

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “I hope you know that you’re the cause of this,” he then moves the blame to Scott. “Dragging me down to your nerd depths to the point where even Fallon can’t save me. I’m a nerd by association. I’ve been scarlet-nerded by you.” 

The bell rings loudly indicating it’s finally time to walk inside. Fallon wraps her arms around Stiles, “Not sure if it’s Scott’s fault you’re stuck in the nerdom. I think you got yourself there just fine on your own.” 

“You seriously make me want to rethink my policy on hitting a girl.” 

The trio continuously bickers as they walk down the hallway to their shared English class. Fallon was pleasantly surprised when she noticed how many classes they had together. They each find their seats, Stiles one row away from Scott while Fallon is directly behind her freckled friend. 

Their teacher is quick to write the first topic of study on the board, “As you all know, there indeed was a body found in the woods last night.” The trio all share collective smirks at the mention of their most recent quest. “And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened. But I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody, which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining this semester.” 

Everyone in the class audibly groans, hating the extra paper that comes with the syllabus. No one in their right mind actually reads the words on those pages. She truly thinks it’s a waste of time and trees for teachers to make these. Students don’t usually look ahead that way. They simply wait until the topic comes up to worry about what comes with it. Without much thought, Fallon immediately starts folding the paper into a ninja star, not really caring if her teacher sees. Stiles reaches over, handing her his syllabus so she could do the same for him. 

When she finishes, she throws it back at Stiles, nailing his neck. He glares at her, but it’s short lived as the two of them notice Scott glancing around the classroom. He looks confused. Fallon watches him carefully, trying to find exactly what he’s searching for. His eyes stop at the window as he stares outside, looking completely zoned out. There’s a girl sitting on the bench in the direction he’s looking. Gorgeous, long brown hair is covering her face as she rummages through her backpack. 

Fallon shakes her head, assuming that Scott must be staring at the girl. She returns her attention back to her ninja star, also throwing it at the back of Stiles’s head. He flinches roughly, the pointy paper hitting him on his sensitive scalp. He rubs the spot and Fallon goes to laugh but is interrupted by the door to the class swinging open. 

The principal walks in with the same girl who was just sitting on the bench outside. She’s new. Fallon leans back in her chair, grinning at the nervous brunette standing at the front of the room. Their teacher pushes his chair back to stand, the wheels squeaking loudly as he does so. 

“Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent,” the vice principal introduces. “Please do your best to make her feel welcome.” 

The new girl walks to the back of the classroom, taking the open seat behind Scott. Fallon can already see how smitten her friend is by the girl. Allison looks to her left and sees Fallon, smiling slightly at her. She waves in return, trying her best to come across as friendly. Her eyebrows furrow though when Scott spins around and hands Allison one of his brand new pens. 

She smiles gratefully, not understanding how Scott knew of her desperate need for a writing tool. She accepts it with a hint of wariness, “Thanks.” 

Stiles slowly turns around to Fallon, looking as completely confused as her. They both shrug at each other, not having an explanation for their friend's odd behavior. 

Soon enough the bell rings, releasing them from the tiny prison that is their English class. Fallon stands from her spot, gathering all of her items before walking out of the room with Stiles and Scott. The three of them make their way down the hallway until Fallon notices Allison stopping at her locker. She realizes that Scott and her locker is just down the way as well, so she wordlessly drifts away from her two guy friends to hopefully try and befriend the new girl. 

Scott and Stiles don’t even notice Fallon’s absence until they reach Scott’s locker and realize she’s no longer behind them. They both quietly freak out when watching her approach Allison. 

“Hey,” Fallon greets, getting the taller brunette’s attention. 

Allison spins around and immediately smiles at the sigh of a familiar face, “Hi…” she greets back. “You’re the girl who sits next to me in English,” she recalls. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Fallon chuckles. She sticks her hand out to formally introduce herself, “My name’s Fallon Donovan, but all my friends call Fall.” 

“Are you saying we’re friends?” Allison raises a teasing eyebrow. “Next thing you know, you’ll be my date to prom,” she jokes, opening her locker to get another book. 

Fallon shakes her head, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come off as super forward or anything.” 

Allison laughs, “You didn’t,” she reassures. “I was just teasing. I’d actually love to be your friend, you seem nice. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have at least one person in this school I can talk to.” 

Fallon grins, “Well, I’m honored to be your first real friend.” 

“That jacket is absolutely killer,” Lydia’s voice catches the two girls' attention as the strawberry blonde zeroes in on Allison’s outfit. “Where’d you get it?” 

Allison quickly looks at Fallon, her anxieties rising from Lydia’s approach. She clutches onto her bag before answering, “My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco,” she says.

Lydia smirks, “And you are my new best friend,” she giggles. “Especially if you’re already in good with our lacrosse star here,” she nods over to Fallon. 

“I hope you’re not talking about Donovan,” Jackson’s voice calls out as he walks up to Lydia, wrapping his arms around her from the side. “Because there’s a reason she’s not the captain,” he teases. 

“Yeah,” Fallon nods. “Because someone had to make sure your ego wasn’t too bruised,” she quips back without much thought. 

Lydia slaps Jackson’s chest before kissing his cheek, “Play nice,” she scolds. 

“She knows I’m joking. It’s just how we talk to each other,” he explains. 

“Just remember who keeps you from getting your shoulder bashed in,” Fallon reminds him in a sing-song tone. 

“Ignore them,” Lydia tells Allison fondly. “That’s what I do.” She shifts her position so she’s putting her entire body weight on Jackson, “So, this weekend there’s a party,” she reveals. 

“A party?” Allison asks unsurely. 

“Yeah, Friday night,” Jackson confirms. “You guys should come,” he says to Fallon and Allison.

Fallon can tell immediately how tense the offer makes Allison. She can see her mind running a million miles a second to try and come up with a lie. Luckily, she has Fallon who seems to be quite adept at making things up on the fly. 

“Uh, unfortunately we can’t this Friday,” Fallon says, looping her arm through Allison’s. “She actually just got done inviting me to her Family’s game night. Y’know, board games, dinner, all that jazz,” she clears her throat. “But we really appreciate the invite. Maybe next time.” 

Allison squeezes Fallon tightly as a thanks, “Yeah,” the taller girl confirms. “She’s the first friend I made so I want to introduce her.” 

“You sure?” Jackson narrows his eyes. “I mean, everyone’s going after the scrimmage. I know Danny will be disappointed that you’re not going,” he says to Fallon. 

She doesn’t fall for his guilt trip, staying strong with Allison. “You mean like football?” The jacket clad girl asks. 

Jackson scoffs at her question, “Football’s a joke in Beacon Hills.” 

“The sport here is lacrosse,” Fallon adds before whispering, “I know it’s weird. But there’s literally nothing else to do here.” 

Lydia nods in agreement, “You’re either on the team or you’re in the stands cheering them on,” she squeezes Jackson’s cheek. 

“We’ve won the state championship the past three years,” Fallon reveals impressively. 

“Because of a certain two players,” Lydia dotes on both Fallon and Jackson, making her blonde boyfriend roll his eyes. 

“Keep rolling those baby blues Whittemore,” Fallon tilts her head tauntingly. “Maybe you’ll find a brain back there.” 

“Oh dear God, not again,” Lydia huffs, begging for the two to not start play fighting. 

“Well, we have practice in a few minutes,” Jackson tells Allison, fighting off the urge to say something else to Fallon. “That is, if you don’t have anywhere else–”

Allison tries to find an escape route, “Well, I was going to–” 

“Perfect,” Lydia cuts her off. “You're coming.” 

Lydia grabs both Fallon and Allison’s hand as they walk the former and Jackson to the locker rooms. Fallon leans over to Allison, “Sorry… But hey, you can wear my number if you want,” she wiggles her eyebrows. 

Allison simply giggles as the shorter brunette disappears into the girls locker room. 

       · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Fallon exhales loudly as she finishes her fourth lap around the track. Coach has them run a full mile before practice starts to keep their bodies warmed up on the field. He blows the whistle, yelling something incomprehensible to a group of guys. That’s when she notices Scott and Stiles finally making their way out to the field. She laughs as she watches Stiles overdramatically berate Scott for trying to play this year. The brunette places her hands above her head as she travels over to her best friends. 

“Took you guys long enough,” she smiles, readjusting her lacrosse jersey with the number six plastered on the front. She chose number six as her number last year because it’s always been somewhat of a lucky number for her. It’s also even and Fallon has always had a thing for even numbers. It scratches an itch in her brain when everything is even. 

“I still don’t understand how you get out here so fast,” Stiles breathes out heavily. “Like do you full on sprint or something? Wear your gear under your clothes? Or are you like some witch and didn’t bother telling us?” 

“Definitely not,” Fallon replies sassily. “If I was, I’d use a spell to make you have better aim.” 

Scott’s attention is completely elsewhere from his bickering friends. He’s too focused on Allison who is smiling directly at him from the bleachers. His heart jumps slightly, and he’s so distracted that he doesn’t even hear Coach Finstock walking up to him.

“McCall!” The loud man catches his attention, making Scott spin around.

“Yes, Coach,” Scott stands straighter as if he was  addressing a drill sergeant. 

He throws him a different lacrosse stick with a bigger net and a helmet, “You’re on goal.”

Scott looks lost at the instruction, “I-I’ve never played,” he reminds. 

“I know,” Coach nods. “Scoring some shots will give the boys and Donovan a confidence boost. It’s a first day back thing,” he pats Scott’s shoulder, acting as if he didn’t just say something extremely offensive. “Get them energized, fired up!”

“What about me?” 

“Try not to take any in the face,” he advises, smacking Scott’s cheek. 

Fallon frowns, walking up behind Scott. She rests her arm on his shoulder, “You got this,” she encourages. “Show him that you’re so good that he’ll have no other choice but to make you first line. You’ve got this.” 

Scott still looks rather uneasy so Fallon stands on her tippy toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I believe in you,” she whispers before running off to join the rest of the team. A half smile etches its way onto Scott’s face, but it quickly fades as he makes his way to the goal. 

Fallon and the rest of the guys line up, getting ready to throw their balls in the net. Coach blows his whistle, signaling for the first player to start. Fallon watches with furrowed brows as Scott clutches his head tightly. She goes to say something, but she’s too late. The ball flies through the hair, colliding directly with Scott’s helmet. He falls over, making both Fallon and Stiles, who is on the sidelines, wince.  

Everyone else on the team, including Coach laughs at the situation. She shoulder checks the guy in front of her, getting him to stop making fun of Scott. Her glare was enough to get him to shuffle away from her. Thankfully, Scott rises from the ground not seeming to be hurt by the collision. She breathes out relieved, whispering words of encouragement under her breath. Not that he could hear her, but it couldn’t hurt to put it out in the universe. 

Coach Finstock throws the ball at the next player as he runs forward at full speed. Fallon almost makes herself look away, but she’s so grateful she didn’t as she watches Scott catch the ball with ease. Her eyes widen the same way Scott’s do. He smiles dopely at Fallon who laughs victoriously. The rest of the team looks just as surprised as they do, but no one bothers to question it out loud. 

The next guy goes, seemingly more determined since Scott caught the last one. He chucks the ball near Scott’s ankles, the goalie moving nimbly to catch it. “Go Scott!” Fallon cheers, earning a few glares from her teammates behind her. 

As the line moves forward, Scott continues to catch the balls without breaking a sweat. She has no idea where this sudden burst of skill came from. Sure he’s grown over their training sessions over the summer, but not this much. She grins happily as she watches Scott’s confidence grow with each success. 

It’s finally Fallon’s turn and she gets ready to run at him. Scott gets into position, looking more determined than ever. The whistle blows and the ball is thrown in her direction. She catches it like a professional, weaving in different directions to throw her friend off. She’s proud of him, but that doesn’t mean she’ll go easy on him. She spins before cocking her stick back and throwing the ball toward the upper left corner of the net. Her jaw hits the floor as Scott moves with an unnatural speed, her ball sliding into his net like butter. 

She nods her head impressed, “It’s so on,” she whispers.  

Scott winks at her and she shakes her head before moving to the benches with the rest of the players. She plops down next to Stiles who suddenly is sitting up much straighter. Fallon looks out and notices Jackson has cut the rest of the line, taking the next spot. She swallows thickly, noticing the way the blonde’s jaw clenches. He’s not happy about Scott’s sudden burst of talent. 

Everyone sits on the edge of their seat as Jackson moves in almost slow motion. He jumps high in the air, chucking it with the intent to knock Scott off his feet. Fallon holds her breath as the ball soars through the air and Scott maneuvers with just as much determination, catching his ball as well. 

Everyone shoots up to their feet, clapping and hollering for their new star player. “That’s our friend!” Stiles screams, shaking Fallon’s shoulders. 

“Whoo!” 

        · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Fallon jumps into the small stream after Scott and Stiles, her beat up sneakers getting completely soaked. She cringes at the feeling of wet socks, but distracts herself by listening to Scott’s explanation on how he suddenly became a lacrosse God overnight. 

“I–I don’t know what it was,” he says, almost in disbelief himself. “It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball,” he explains breathily as they keep walking forward, retracing their steps from the night before. “And that’s not the only weird thing. I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. Smell things.”

“Smell things?” Stiles scrunches his nose. “Like what?” 

Scott sniffs in their direction, “Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket and the raspberry chapstick in Fallon’s.” 

Fallon furrows her eyebrows, digging her hands into her jeans. Her brain almost explodes as she pulls out a small chapstick container with a raspberry on the wrapper. “I didn’t even know that was in there,” she mumbles. There’s a small pause before she shrugs her shoulders, popping the lid off and applying it to her lips. 

Stiles scoffs, believing that it must be a coincidence. He grumbles something about not having gum in his jacket pocket, but closes his mouth when he pulls out a half eaten piece of green gum. He looks at Scott, then Fallon, the adderall not doing much to keep his overactive mind at bay. 

“So all this started with the bite?” Fallon inquires, keeping pace with the two boys. 

“Well, w-what if it’s like an infection? Like my body’s flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?” He voices his worries, the most over dramatic scenarios filling his mind. 

“You know what? I actually think I’ve heard of this,” Stiles begins with a straight face but Fallon can already tell his end goal is to mess with their anxious friend. “It’s a specific kind of infection.” 

Scott stops in his tracks, his face turning pale white, “Are you serious?” 

“Yes,” Stiles deadpans. “Yeah, I think it’s called lycanthropy.” 

Fallon has to stop herself from laughing out loud. She covers her mouth with her hand as Scott looks even more concerned than before. “What is that? Is that bad?” 

“Oh, yeah, it’s the worst,” Stiles confirms. “But only once a month.” 

“Once a month?” Scott stares at him confused. 

“Yeah,” Fallon nods, grinning like an idiot. She leans on Stiles’ shoulder,  “On the night of the full moon…”

Both her and Stiles howl in the air, stumbling backwards as Scott shoves both of them. They laugh obnoxiously, Fallon clutching her side from the stitch forming since she’s laughing so hard. Stiles drags her along as they follow after a butthurt Scott. 

“Hey, you’re the one who heard a wolf howling,” Stiles defends himself and Fallon as the girl wipes a tear of joy from her eye. 

“Dude, there could be something seriously wrong with me!” 

“We know,” Fallon nods. “You’re a werewolf,” she growls in his face. “Pretty lucky if you ask me. It would be pretty cool to be able to hear everyone else’s conversations.” 

“You would just wanna eavesdrop on Scott and I when we talk without you,” Stiles scoffs. “No gracias,” he wags his finger in her face. 

“Oh please,” she rolls her eyes. “I would not waste that on something as small minded as your guys’ conversations. Plus, it’s very rare you guys are even together without me, so.” 

“She’s got a point,” Scott adds. “And we also end up telling her everything anyway.” 

“Okay, who’s side are you on wolf boy?” Stiles glares at Scott. “Y’know, don’t be surprised when you find me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find. Soon as the full moon hits on Friday, I’m shooting your ass just for that.” 

“Again, Sti, shooting anything requires hand eye coordination. Something that you lack desperately,” Fallon insults smoothly, almost running into Scott’s back because of his abrupt stop. 

Stiles takes the chance and flicks her on the back of the head making the girl whimper. She places a hand on the back of her head before kicking Stiles’ shin. “N-no, I could’ve sworn this was it,” Scott points to the ground, ignoring the two behind him like he usually does. “I saw the body, the deer came running,” he bends down to get a closer look at the ground. “I dropped my inhaler…” he trails off, moving some leaves around in hopes that it got buried somewhere. 

“Maybe the killer moved the body,” Stiles suggests. 

Scott sighs, “If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are like eighty bucks.” 

Fallon bends down a few feet away, moving some stray leaves and twigs around to see if the inhaler could’ve fallen somewhere else. If the deer came running at him, it could’ve been launched further away then he assumed. She looks up at the sky, watching as the clouds part, giving way for a small ray of sunlight to shine through. The yellow glow covers the forest and makes her smile when she hears some birds chirping overhead. The woods in Beacon Hills is actually a beautiful place when there’s no dead body’s found in it. 

The hairs on the back of the brunette’s neck stand up. She hears the small crunch of a leaf and turns her head over towards a large tree trunk. There is a bit of movement and suddenly her doe eyes are met with a pair of bright green ones. She rapidly scrambles to her feet, standing up impossibly straight as she maintains eye contact with the strange man watching them with a scowl written on his face.

It takes her a moment to process, but when she does she’s kicking the back of the boys’ legs. “Guys,” she whispers urgently. “Get. Up.” She commands through her teeth. 

When they turn around, they both practically crawl out of their skin. They had no idea the stranger was standing there. They mimic Fallon’s previous actions, trying to make it to their feet without falling over like the clutz’s they are. 

“What are you doing here?” The man asks as he begins to approach the trio. “Huh?” He mocks, waiting for one of them to answer. “This is private property.” 

Carver gulps, her hands becoming very sweaty as he grows closer. She fiddles with her fingers, “Um we were just uh– yeah– um, we– we didn’t know that,” she stumbles over her words, trailing off at the end. Stiles looks at her with disbelief. He’s never seen Fallon at a loss for words on any topic. Especially with people who are trying to appear intimidating. She’s the first one to try and knock them down a peg. 

Fallon didn’t know why she was suddenly so nervous. She’s reciting what she wants to say in her head, but it can’t seem to come out of her mouth. The man keeps his eyes focused on her for a moment, Fallon doing the same. They both appear to be analyzing the other. He tilts his head in interest, looking her over before his attention is pulled by Scott. 

“Yeah, we were just looking for something, but…” He pauses, getting an almost eerie feeling from the leather clad man. “Uh, forget it.” He shrugs, getting ready to walk off with his friends. 

The man reaches into his jacket pocket to grab something, tossing it at a rapid pace directly towards Fallon. She catches it, surprised by her own reflexes. That's when she notices it’s Scott’s blue and white inhaler. She glances back up at the man, their eyes connecting once more. “Thanks,” she mutters. As he begins to walk away, she calls out, “Nice jacket by the way.” 

He stops, his frown never fading. He narrows his eyes like she’s some sort of puzzle he can’t find all the pieces to. He nods his head in response to her compliment and continues on his way. Fallon keeps staring at his retreating form until he disappears behind the tree line. She drops the inhaler into Scott’s hand who looks just as baffled as she does. 

He wipes the curiosity off his face, “Alright, come on. I need to get to work,” he states, nudging his friends to follow after him.

Stiles quickly jerks in front of them, preventing either of them from going anywhere. He slaps Scott’s chest, “Guys, that was Derek Hale. You remember, right? He’s only like a few years older than us,” he explains, making Fallon look back in the direction where Derek had walked off. 

“What are we supposed to be remembering exactly?” Fallon asks curiously.

“His family,” Stiles answers. “They all burned to death in a fire like ten years ago.”

“What?” Fallon’s posture slumps out of empathy. She had moved to Beacon Hills only a few years after that, and if he’s only a couple years older than them, he must’ve been pretty young when it all happened. “That’s terrible,” she frowns. “I wonder why he would come back after something like that.” 

Stiles stares off into the same direction as Fallon. He scoffs before shaking his head, “Come on,” he mumbles. “Let’s just go.” 

It takes the brunette girl a moment to move from her spot. She keeps her eyes stuck on the scenery ahead, trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious man. She doesn’t know if it’s just her empathetic heart, but she feels the need to check if he’s okay. But judging by his behavior, he probably doesn’t take too kindly to strangers, or anyone for that matter, checking in on him. 

“Fall,” Scott calls out. “You coming?” 

Her head snaps in their direction, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m coming.” 

The trio walks back the same way they came, jumping over puddles and kicking up leaves. She finds her mind continuously wandering back to Derek. She didn’t understand how he managed to appear out of thin air. Then he disappeared just as quickly as he came. Picturing him in her mind, the only emotion on his face that she could identify was anger. Nonetheless, he still seems like a very intriguing character. One she wouldn’t mind seeing again. 

She turns around to look at her best friends. They stare back at her expectantly, waiting for her to say what she clearly has on her mind. She sighs dreamily, “You know, I can’t lie, I know he’s a creepy stranger we just found in the woods, but he is one good looking man,” she compliments. “I’ve never really been one to have a type, but that might be it.” 

“Shut up, Fallon,” Stiles squints his eyes at the girl in disgust. “I should’ve known you’d have an affinity for older men. You thought John Stamos was hot when we were in sixth grade.” 

“And I stand by my statement.”

        · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Walking through the hospital doors, Fallon adjusts her scrubs and volunteer badge before making her way over to her father’s office. She knocks on the door and is greeted with a tired ‘come in.’ When she walks in, she can see her father looking more drained than ever. He’s been on call for the past four days because he’s been covering for the other surgeon who is currently on vacation. 

She smiles softly at him, “Hey dad.” 

He looks up and for a moment, the creases in his forehead disappear as he stares at his daughter with happiness in his eyes. “Hey honey,” he replies, getting up to give her a hug. “That time already?” He asks, referring to her uniform. 

“Yeah,” she huffs. “Gotta get some hours in if I wanna make money,” she laughs breathily. For the past year or so, Fallon has been a paid volunteer at the hospital. She brings patient’s food, medication, takes their vitals, that sort of stuff. She wants to be a firefighter–paramedic after graduation so she needs some medical experience before going into training. Hence why she’s at the hospital. Thankfully Melissa and her father got her in without much of a hassle. 

“You should be focusing on school and teenager things,” Michael lectures gently. “You have the rest of your life to work and worry about making money.” 

“It’s still good experience, dad,” she continues, setting down the small bag that contains her father’s dinner on his desk. “It’ll look good when I apply to the academy.” 

Michael sighs, “Are you sure that being a firefighter is what you wanna do?” He questions. 

“Firefighter–paramedic,” she corrects. “And yes, I’m sure.” There’s a distant yet painful look in her eyes and Michael knows exactly what caused it. “They’re the first ones on the scene. They have the opportunity to save people before they even get to the hospital. And after everything that happened with mom, I–” she sucks in a deep breath. “I just want to help people,” she whispers. “And I feel like this is how I can do it.” 

“I know,” Michael nods, kissing the side of her head. “I just don’t want you to limit yourself because of– well, you know…” 

Her mom’s accident. Yes, she knows. 

“I’m not limiting myself, dad. I just know what I want to do with my life. That’s all,” she shrugs, pushing down the negative feelings rising up in her throat. 

“And I’m proud of you, kiddo,” he pinches her cheek lightly. “I wake up everyday grateful that you turned out the way you did,” he grins. “Despite your attitude here and there.” 

“Oh don’t pretend like you don’t secretly love it,” she giggles, stealing one of his fries. “Plus, you can’t be mad since I get it all from you.” 

“I don’t know,” he jokes unsurely. “You definitely got your mouthiness from your mother,” he says fondly. “She didn’t have much of a filter either.” 

“Hey, I have a filter on some occasions,” she defends. “It’s just the very rare occasions.” 

Michael laughs at his daughter's humor. He shakes his head before digging into his turkey club sandwich that she picked up from the deli. “So how was school?” He queries. “And lacrosse practice? You finally accept the co-Captain position?” 

Fallon sits down across from him, “School was good. Lots of syllabi, some homework from Mr. Harris, but that was to be expected,” she rolls her eyes. “Lacrosse practice went well too. Scott’s now the team's star player,” she reveals playfully. “Guess the summer practices actually paid off. But uh, no. I haven’t accepted the position. I just don’t really feel the need to be co-Captain. It’s just a title. Besides, most of the guys listen to me over Jackson anyway.” 

“You’ve always been a natural leader,” Michael admits. “But it wouldn’t hurt to take the opportunity while you have it. You work hard. You should get recognition for it.” 

“I do,” she chuckles. “I’ve played in every game since I got on the team. That’s all the recognition I need. I might have a big ego, but it’s not that bad.” 

Truth be told, Fallon has never felt the need to be co-captain with Jackson because she already gets the respect she desires from the rest of the team. They know how good she is and they know she’s been offered the position, so they treat her as if she said yes. It’s a comradery thing in a way. She doesn’t want them to look at her as if she’s stuck up. She’s heard the things some of the guys say about Jackson, and she doesn’t want them to view her in the same light. She’s just as much of a team player as anyone else. She doesn’t need to be team captain to prove her worth. 

“Alright,” Michael nods, moving on. “So Scott’s all of a sudden super good? That’s awesome,” he celebrates. “That means you’re a good teacher. What about Stiles? How’s he doing?” 

“Stiles is… Stiles,” she answers with a laugh. “He’s still a genius spaz head, but of course, his lacrosse skills are still a bit lackluster. Nothing a little more practice wouldn’t fix,” she says optimistically. “I mean, he’d probably have to take a whole bottle of adderall to focus long enough for practice, but I think he could do it.” 

“I’m sure he appreciates your optimism,” Michael responds amused. “Well, I should probably get back out on the floor,” he huffs. “I’m sure Melissa is waiting for you to do her rounds so you should get out there too.” 

Fallon nods, standing from her chair. She hugs her dad, “I’ll see you at home. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

         · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     The next day at lacrosse practice, Scott informs Fallon of how Jackson confronted him about his newfound skills before heading out to the field. The girl scoffs, glancing in Jackson’s direction. He may never have any real issues with her, but it angers her to no end seeing how he treats Scott and Stiles. She forms a plan in her head on how she can hurt him in the most brutal way possible during today’s eliminations. The only person she’ll allow to harass Scott besides her is Stiles. 

Speaking of the devil, “Scott! Fallon!” Stiles screams out, his voice a few octaves too high. He slides to a stop in front of his friends who are trying to finish gearing up before heading out onto the field. “Guys, wait up.” 

“Sti, we’re playing the first elimination,” Fallon rushes out, gripping her stick. “Can this wait until after we’re done?” 

“Just hold on, okay?” He places his hands on their shoulders. “I overheard my dad on the phone. The fiber analysis came back from the lab in L.A. they found animal hairs on the body from the woods!” He rushes out, panic evident on his face. 

“Stiles, we gotta go,” Scott grabs the rest of his stuff, pulling Fallon after him. 

“We’ll finish this right after, okay? I promise. But we gotta focus on this right now,” Fallon adds before being completely taken away. They run out to the center of the field, leaving an exasperated Stiles in their wake. 

Coach blows his whistle to get their attention, “Let’s go! Gather around! Bring it in. Come on!” Everyone rushes to form a semi-circle, waiting for the first instructions. Fallon notices Allison walk over to the bleachers, waving at Scott with a smile. She smiles endearingly when Scott waves back, but the smile is replaced by a cringe of embarrassment when Coach walks up to the boy. “Got a question, McCall?” 

Scott blinks, “What?” 

“You raised your hand, do you have a question?” 

The teens face flushes. He stutters a bit before shaking his head, “Oh, no, I was just uh… Nothing. Sorry.” 

Coach gives him an odd look, “Okay.” He turns his attention back to the team, “You know how this goes. If you don’t make the cut, you’re most likely sitting on the bench for the rest of the season,” he explains bluntly. “You make the cut, you play. Your parents are proud. Your girlfriend loves ya! Huh?” Fallon crosses her arms, lifting an eyebrow. Coach Finstock can feel her hard stare. He slowly spins around, “Or boyfriend. Whatever you prefer. No judgment here. I kissed a turtle once,” he blurts out, trying to remain as non-offensive as possible. “Anyway,” he shakes his head, “Everything else is, uh, cream cheese. Now, get out there and show me what you got!” 

Fallon rolls her eyes at the barbaric screams the boys let out. She simply spins on her heel and gets ready to play. She and Scott both happen to be on the same team with the burgundy jersey’s. The ball is in her position as she weaves out of Jackson’s reach. She notices Scott standing wide open and throws the ball directly into his net. He looks stunned for a moment but regains function as he takes off towards the goal. She follows closely behind, blocking for him if need be. He twirls around one of the players, but is met with a shoulder to the face by Jackson. 

Fallon feels her fury bubbling once more. She stomps over to Scott, helping him onto his feet. “Keep your personal issues off the field, Whittemore,” she warns. “Whatever problems you have can wait until after eliminations. And if we all need to sit in a circle together to share our feelings, I can assure you that I will make it happen.” 

Jackson’s jaw tenses. He glares at both Fallon and Scott before pulling his helmet back down and running back out to the field. The shorter brunette sighs, “Say the word and I’ll kick his ass,” she whispers to Scott. 

He shakes his head, glaring after the blonde boy. “I’ll be fine,” he insists. “Thanks though.” 

Fallon swears she could’ve heard him growl as he walks off, but she just chalks it up to his anger. Her body tenses when she realizes it’s the two boys against each other trying to get possession of the ball. She crouches down, getting ready to intervene if a brawl breaks out. The whistle blows and before Jackson can even blink, Scott’s already running away with the ball. 

She yells for him to pass it to her as the opposing team makes their way to corner him, but he doesn’t seem to hear her. He continues bolting across the field with such elegance and grace that it makes Fallon want to just stop and watch him work. She stumbles over her own feet as she watches him flip over three guys, landing without so much as a hit from his inhaler. Her pace slows and she narrows her eyes at her best friend as he throws the ball into the goal. Sure, everything he did at practice yesterday was impressive, but it was believable that he improved. This is completely different. There’s no way he’d suddenly have this amount of skill just overnight. It shouldn’t be physically possible for him to do that, especially since he’s a severe asthmatic. 

Her eyes travel over to Stiles and he looks more than nervous. He wrings his hands together as he stares at her with worried eyes. She’s starting to wish she would’ve let their buzz cut friend finish his story before they ran onto the field. 

After practice, and congratulating Scott on making first line, Stiles pretty much drags Fallon back to his house. He pulls her arm up the stairs, tripping up a few on the way there. He immediately slides into his desk chair, patting the small box he has on the side for her to sit down on. She does as he tells her, knowing that if he isn’t rambling incessantly yet that it must be really important.

“The animal hair they found on the was a wolf,” he finally blurts out, logging into his computer. 

“What?” Fallon furrows her eyebrows, not fully believing what he just said. “But, there aren’t–”

“Wolves in California? Yeah, I know,” he cuts her off. “But apparently now there is.” His fingers fly over his keyboard quickly. “Or at least some form of wolf,” he trails off, clicking on the first website that says the word lycanthropy. 

Fallon’s jaw falls slack at his selection, “Stiles, you don’t actually think…” She shakes her head. 

“I don’t know,” he exhales loudly, his eyes skimming over the information. “I mean, it would explain where his sudden superhero abilities came from. Look at this, one of the first things that comes up is enhanced abilities. Sense of smell, hearing, speed, strength, healing. It’s all here. If he was bit by an actual wolf, don’t you think it would’ve taken longer to heal?” 

Fallon thinks about it. He’s right. When she saw Scott changing, there wasn’t so much as even a scar on his side from the night he was attacked. And that was only two days ago. She stares at the photo that pops up on his screen. There’s a black wolf drawn on an old piece of parchment paper being pierced by a silver bullet. She reads over the article with him, all of the pieces seemingly falling into place. It makes sense, but at the same time seems impossible. Werewolves can’t be real. If they are, does that mean every other supernatural being exists? Or are she and Stiles just looking for something more intriguing to think about than what’s really going on?

“Here, read this,” Stiles hands her a book with the title Werewolves: A History typed in big bold letters on the leather cover. 

“Why the hell do you have an entire book about werewolves just sitting in your room?” She asks him, not sure if she really wants the answer. 

“It was for a D&D campaign,” he waves her off. “Just read it, and take notes on what you find.” 

Fallon sighs, reluctantly getting up from her spot. She opens up her backpack, grabbing a black pen and three different colored highlighters. Green, yellow, and red. Stiles catches the color scheme and pauses for a moment. Those are the colors he uses when trying to solve his dad’s cases. A small smiles makes its way onto his lips, wondering if they mean the same thing for her as they do for him. 

Fallon brushes a strand of hair behind her ear as she reads the information in front of her. She figures Stiles won’t mind her highlighting certain parts in the book. She takes some time to decorate a page in her notebook for the cause, titling it in cursive, creating three separate columns, and drawing the flower that’s on the first page, wolfsbane, in the four corners. 

She highlights the exact symptoms Scott is experiencing in green, the ones that they’ve got a feeling he’s experiencing, but haven’t fully seen yet in yellow, and the ones they have no clue about in red. She also makes note of them in their own separate column. Her eyes widen as she quickly makes a fourth column and grabs a blue highlighter. She’s now using this to identify and write all the dangers that come with being a werewolf. 

She gets particularly stuck on the blood lust section of the chapter she’s in. During the full moon, a werewolf will be in their most ferocious state, wanting to kill anything and everything in sight if they cannot control their power. She swallows thickly, her hands suddenly becoming clammy at the thought of Scott trying to maul her and Stiles on the full moon. 

“What’ve you found so far?” Stiles asks her gently, sitting down next to her on his bed. He rubs the sleepiness from his eyes before looking at her work. His jaw falls slack. She’s got her entire page filled with notes. From left to right, top to bottom. It’s covered in black ink and the corresponding highlighter colors are the bullet points in each column. “Holy crap,” he mutters. 

Fallon can feel herself getting overwhelmed. She looks at Stiles with overstimulated eyes, “This is crazy, right?” She breathes out shakily as she scans over everything. “There-there’s no way Scott is a werewolf. It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any sense, Sti. It can’t be real.” 

Stiles hushes her before pulling her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her. “I know it’s all a bit much–”

“Understatement of the century,” she quips sarcastically, snuggling into his arms. 

“But you know that this aligns perfectly with everything that’s been going on,” he continues. “I mean, I’m assuming the green column is all the things we’ve seen Scott experience, and that’s the one with the most bullet points in it,” he says, continuing to read the information as he plays with her hair. “It’s all starting to add up, Fall.” 

“I know,” she sounds muffled due to being buried in his shirt. “But that doesn’t mean I want to accept it.” 

“Well, you’re gonna have to,” he tells her. “If we’re gonna break all this to Scott, I’m gonna need your help. The full moon’s tonight, and if this is true, we need to keep him contained. For his safety and everyone else’s.”  

“There’s no way he’s gonna believe us, Stiles,” Fallon sits up, closing the book she didn’t even realize she got most of the way through. “I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around everything.” 

Suddenly a knock sounds at his bedroom door. Fallon looks at him confused. Noah said he’d be at the station until tomorrow morning. By the apologetic smile on Stiles’ face, she already knows who’s on the other side of the door. 

“Well, now’s the time to finish wrapping it,” Stiles whispers, standing up. He wipes his hands on his jeans nervously before opening the door. 

Fallon can feel her stomach twist in knots as Scott walks into the room. She feels the need to vomit and hide in a far away corner at the same time. How are they going to break it to their best friend that he’s a supernatural creature? That will most likely try to claw someone’s eyes out tonight if they don’t chain him up to a tree within the next couple of hours. 

“You’ve gotta see this, dude,” Stiles gestures for him to come closer to the bed. He silently asks Fallon for her notebook, figuring his explanation will be more put together by using her notes. She nods her head, allowing him to use the overly decorated page. “We’ve been up all night reading. Websites, books. All of this information,” he rambles quickly. 

Scott chuckles, “How much adderall have you had today?” 

“Too much,” Fallon answers, recalling when he popped at least three of the tiny pills in his mouth. 

“That doesn’t matter,” he dismisses the question. “Okay, just listen.” 

“Is this about the body?” Scott continues with his questions. “Did they find out who did it?” He plops down right next to Fallon who side eyes him warily. 

“No, they’re still questioning people, even Derek Hale,” Stiles says, spinning around in his chair. 

“Wait,” Fallon stops him, not remembering him telling her this. “The guy we met in the woods yesterday? Why would they be questioning him?”

“Fallon!” Stiles huffs, waving his hands in the air causing her notebook to crinkle. “Not the point!” The brunette girl closes her mouth, not knowing when it became her out of the group who had a hard time focusing. 

“What is the point then?” Scott looks between them, perplexed by their odd behavior. 

Stiles sighs, looking at Scott with a serious expression. “Remember the joke from the other day?” 

“Yeah…?” Scott glances in between his friends. 

“It’s not a joke anymore,” Fallon adds, pushing the book that was on her lap towards him. 

Scott smiles when he reads the title, clearly thinking they’re joking. Stiles can tell he doesn’t believe, “The wolf. The bite in the woods,” he proceeds with their reasoning. “We started doing all this reading–” he abruptly stands up, coming across an important part in the blue section of Fallon’s notes. “Do you even know why a wolf howls?” 

Scott shakes his head, “Should I?” 

“It’s to signal its location to the rest of the pack,” Fallon tells him. “When a wolf is alone or in distress, it howls so that its family, per say, knows where it is. So if you actually heard a wolf howling that night, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack,” she finishes, fiddling with her fingers anxiously. 

“A whole pack of wolves?” Scott wonders, amazed, not getting the actual point they’re making. 

“No, werewolves,” Stiles corrects. 

That’s when a shift in the dynamics between them changes. Scott’s face falls into an irritated frown as he stands up from the bed. Fallon can sense the annoyance radiating off of him and she doesn’t even need werewolf powers to see it. 

“Are you two seriously wasting my time with this?” He scoffs, grabbing the stuff that he brought with him. “You guys know I’m picking up Allison in an hour.” 

Stiles moves in front of him to stop his escape, “We saw you out on the field today, Scott. Okay, what you did wasn’t just an amazing product of Fallon’s training, all right? It was impossible.” 

Scott shrugs, “Yeah, so I made a good shot.”

Fallon stands up as well, “No, you made an incredible shot,” she counters. “Scott, I couldn’t make a shot like that in my wildest dreams. I mean, the way that you moved, your speed, your reflexes. No matter how hard someone trains, they can’t just manage to do that overnight,” she says. 

Stiles nods his head, “And then there’s the vision and the senses, and don’t even think we didn’t notice that you don’t need your inhaler anymore–”

“Okay!” Scott raises his voice, halting the rambling. “You guys, I can't think about this now. We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

Stiles stares at him like he’s crazy, “Tomorrow? What? No!” He exclaims. “The full moon’s tonight. Don’t you get it?” 

“What are you guys trying to do?” He glares at them angrily. “I just made first line. I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you both trying to ruin it?” 

“We’re just trying to help,” Fallon says, her own anger rising at his behavior. She doesn’t know whether to be wounded or furious by how he’s treating them. “You have this weird crazy thing going on with you. And it’s not just the moon that's going to cause you to physically change. It’s also when your bloodlust is going to be at its peak,” she tries to convince, but by the look on his face, it’s all falling upon deaf ears. 

“Bloodlust?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles nods. “Your urge to kill.” 

Scott’s eyes turn dark as he talks through clenched teeth, “I’m already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles,” he seethes. 

“You gotta hear this,” Stiles ignores him, still reading from Fallon’s notebook. "The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse. All right? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date,” he shakes his head, snagging Scott’s phone from the bed. “I’m gonna call her right now.”

“What are you doing?!” Scott whips around trying to regain possession of his phone. 

Fallon clenches her fists, feeling the situation escalating simply by the energy in the room. She wants to tell Stiles to just give his phone back, but they already seem too far down the path to return. She jumps out of the way as Scott practically almost plows through her to get to Stiles.

“I’m canceling the date,” Stiles states obviously, opening Scott’s phone. 

“No, give it to me!” Suddenly Scott is pinning Stiles against the wall, his fist raised as if he’s actually going to strike his friend. Fallon is quick on her feet, charging over to Scott and roughly pulling him off Stiles. 

She shoves him to the ground, “What the hell is wrong with you?” She snaps. 

Scott looks like he just came out of some daze. He struggles getting to his feet, his eyes apologetic. Fallon doesn’t move from her spot in front of Stiles, keeping the boy protectively behind her. “I'm sorry,” he mumbles, grabbing his stuff. “I - I gotta go get ready for that party,” he heads straight for the door, sending them a fleeting glance, “I'm sorry.”

As soon as the door to Stiles’ room shuts, Fallon releases a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. She turns around and can see Stiles visibly shaking. He clears his throat, “You can go home if you want…” he mumbles quietly as he moves to pick up all the papers Scott knocked down. 

Fallon places her hand on his shoulder, stopping him from cleaning anything. She doesn’t say anything, simply wrapping her arms around him. “Are you okay?” She asks him softly. He’s obviously not, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear what’s going through his head. 

“Yeah,” he replies, reciprocating the hug by placing his hands around her waist. “I just know that this is the only explanation, but there’s no way to make him listen. He’s going to kill somebody tonight if we don’t stop him.” 

Fallon looks him in the eyes, “Then I guess that means we have a party to get ready for.”

         · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     “Lyds, I am not wearing that,” Fallon scoffs as her friend tells her to wear the skimpy red dress she bought her last year for her birthday. Fallon wasn’t necessarily against wearing dresses, but she’d prefer to save them for special occasions. Lydia had gone out of her way last year to buy Fallon the shortest and most revealing red dress she could. While it does look good on her, she doesn’t think wearing it tonight of all nights would be the best decision. 

Lydia sighs through the phone, “But it’s so cute.” Fallon could hear her pout even without seeing her. “And I’ve never seen you actually wear it out.”

“Because if I were to bend over everyone would have a full view of my business,” she laughs loudly, searching her closet for the perfect outfit. She comes across a black lace tank top and lifts an intrigued eyebrow. Lydia furrows her eyebrows as she hears Fallon scuffling across her room, “Did you find something?” 

“Yeah,” she grunts out, trying to pull a pair of light-washed skinny jeans on. “I’ll send a picture, just gimme a sec.” 

She stops herself in front of the mirror, admiring how well the outfit she chose fits her body. The lace top is tucked in tightly to the jeans, hugging her waist perfectly. There’s rips throughout the skinny jeans, one rather high up on her thigh, but it looks good. She smiles at her decision and sends a quick picture to Lydia who squeals loudly into the speaker. 

“Okay, I stand corrected. That is literally perfect,” she compliments. “And if you’re coming on your bike, so hot,” she adds with a high level of praise. “Everyone’s gonna be drooling over you.” 

Fallon laughs, “I sincerely doubt that, but thanks for the confidence boost.” 

Lydia huffs annoyed, “Just shut up and take the compliment. Now, hurry up and get your cute butt over here.” 

As the two girls hang up, Fallon shoots a quick text to Stiles, informing him that she’s on her way. She sticks the device in her pocket before also grabbing her pepper spray and small wallet. She frowns, not wanting a bunch of random bulges in her pockets from the items. She sighs, reluctantly grabbing her license from her wallet and just taking that. She shouldn’t need any money for the evening, so she settles on taking the item that will get her in legal trouble if she doesn’t have it. 

She runs down the stairs, smiling at the small note her dad left her on the table. He’s back at the hospital again until tomorrow morning. She pins it on the fridge, on top of all the other notes he’s left her and walks out the door. 

The ride over to Lydia’s was rather uneventful. Fallon loves riding her motorcycle through Beacon Hills. The quiet scenery is always a nice break from everything. She doesn’t have a problem driving a car, but she’s always preferred her bike for some unknown reason. 

Pulling up to the large home, Fallon is shocked by how loud the music already is. Cars are piled into the driveway, forcing her to park near the ditch. She hangs her helmet on one of the handles, shivering from the slight breeze that hits her. She silently curses herself for not thinking of bringing a coat. 

She walks in and is greeted with a few polite smiles and hellos from the people she knows. Danny is the only one to come and hug her, handing her a red solo cup within the first five seconds. The boy is definitely already on his third or fourth drink. She giggles at his behavior before escorting him back over to his date. 

Fallon maneuvers through the crowd, periodically sipping for the cup as she finds her way through the crowd. She finally makes it outside and isn’t surprised by what she sees. Teens making out and grinding on each other haphazardly, definitely not following the beat to the music. She sighs before beginning her search for Scott and Allison. Her feet carry her around the edge of the pool as she tries to find a good angle to continue looking. She stops at the far corner of the yard by the gate. Her phone buzzes with a text from Stiles, informing her that he’d be there soon. 

She nurses the cup in her hand, drinking it sparingly as she wants to remain as logical as possible. Not that Fallon’s ever been a big drinker. It was just nice to have a little something here and there. 

Her eyes travel to the glistening blue pool. It blows her mind that even with all these people here that there’s still not so much as a leaf or plastic cup floating on its clear surface. The light of the full moon makes it all the more beautiful. Fallon’s always had a fascination with the moon and the power it holds. In all the old folktales she’s read, the different genres of mythology, the moon has always held an important place. It creates balance, an elegance that nothing else can. She sucks in a deep breath, closing her eyes as she basques in the moon's pale glow. 

When she opens them, a thick fog starts to cover the sky above. She tilts her head, still admiring the mystery of it all, the fog only adding to her intrigue. She takes another small sip of her drink before setting it down on the small table next to her. She folds her arms over her body, completely unaware of the moving individual behind her. 

A finger pokes her side, causing her to jump with a small yelp. Carver turns her head and sees Lydia standing there with a smile on her face, “You hungry?” She asks, holding up a small charcuterie plate. 

Fallon shakes her head, “No, I’m good, Lyds. I already ate–”

“Just take the plate,” she begs. “I have to get it away from the lacrosse boys. They don’t understand the delicacies of a good gruyère and prosciutto,” she huffs irritatedly, placing the dish in Fallon’s hand before walking off. Fallon looks down at the plate of meats and cheese, taking a piece of bleu cheese before setting it down on the same table her drink was on. She doesn’t know how she became the designated food scapegoat, but she can’t complain. At least Lydia didn’t force her to go out and dance with Greenberg or something. 

A familiar head of floppy brown hair comes into Fallon’s eyesight and she immediately tenses. She watches as Scott and Allison dance with one another, holding onto each other tightly. She wonders what is taking Stiles so long. She can’t handle a wolfed out Scott on her own. If their theory is even correct. For all they know, they could be absolutely idiots for even thinking this is true. 

“Do you make it a habit of standing alone in corners, or is it just tonight?”

Fallon startles slightly, getting rather tired of people sneaking up on her. She looks behind her and her eyes widen at the sight of Derek Hale. His expression is as stoic as it was when they met, despite the humor behind his question. She stares at him warily, not knowing why he would be wasting his time at a high school party. 

She smirks, “Depends on who’s asking,” she replies, her playful side showing. “Derek, right?” Her eyebrow quirks up.

The man nods in response, keeping his hands shoved in his jean pockets. “I know we’ve only met once, but you don’t really seem like the party type,” Fallon continues, tilting her head at the man. 

“I’m not,” he says dryly. “But I get the feeling you're not exactly here for the experience either.” 

Fallon chuckles, turning her body to fully address him. “What makes you think that?” She asks. 

Derek’s gaze hardens, not amused by her teasing tone. “The fact you’re standing here keeping an eye on Scott rather than mingling with the people who invited you here,” he says curtly. 

Fallon narrows her eyes at him, trying to gauge his intentions. “So what if I’m watching him? What’s it to you?” 

Derek leans in a bit closer, lowering his voice, “You know there’s more going on than what meets the eye. You’ve seen the signs.”

Fallon’s body tenses and her heart begins to race at his insinuation. She rolls her neck from side to side, trying to keep her cool. There’s no way he’s hinting at what she thinks he is. “… I don’t know what I’ve seen,” she admits quietly. “But what I do know is that he’s been acting differently. And I’m here to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” 

Derek looks away from her and towards the party. Kids were clinging onto each other, shoving their tongues into each other's mouths, dancing wildly due to the alcohol's influence. But when he looks at Fallon, she’s calm, grounded. She’s not behaving like the others. This is the exact environment a young woman like her should thrive in. So why is she not having fun?

“You’re not clueless,” Derek states firmly. “It’s more than just him acting differently and you know it. You need to start believing that what you’ve read, what you’ve seen, is real. And it’s dangerous.” 

“Dangerous?” Amusement dances spiritedly in her eyes. “Are you saying the big bad wolf is gonna come huff and puff and blow my house down?”

Derek’s jaw tightens, growing increasingly more irritated at her flippant attitude. “Close enough. And if you’re not careful, you’ll find out just how real it is.” 

“Seems a bit immature for a grown man like yourself to be engaging in such silly theories,” Fallon pushes his buttons, trying to see how far she can go before he snaps. He knows something more about what’s going on with Scott. Or else he wouldn’t be here. 

“It’s not a theory.” 

“Well, if you’re also here to keep an eye on Scott, then what does that make you?” She asks provokingly. “The werewolf police?” She chuckles at her own joke.

Derek rolls his eyes, “I’m someone who knows the truth.” He replies shortly. “And so are you.” 

Fallon’s smirk fades just barely, but she keeps her taunting tone evident. “You’re really mysterious, you know that?” She stares at him with delicate eyes, looking him over with curiosity. “All broody and serious. What’s your deal?” 

There’s a hint of exasperation in Derek’s eyes. She's infuriating. Everything that comes out of her mouth is either a challenge or a joke. But he still can’t help but be fascinated by her. “My deal is keeping people safe,” he says firmly. “And right now, that means making sure you’re not in over your head.” 

Fallon laughs softly, enjoying the feeling of getting under his skin. She takes a chance, poking his arm, “Aw, you care about me? How sweet. But it seems a little soon don’t you think? We did just meet yesterday,” she has a shit-eating grin plastered on her face as he rolls his eyes. 

“Just stay out of trouble.” 

“Maybe trouble should stay away from me,” she argues. Fallon huffs when she notices his expression is still as stiff as it was when he got there. It’s like he only has one emotion. “Are you not having fun? I mean, an adult at a teenage party– fun is why you came, isn’t it? Or were you just looking for cheap alcohol?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?” He glances briefly at her.

“Would you like me to answer that with a question of my own?” She wiggles her eyebrows, feeling victorious as her quick wit continues to serve her well. “I’m just kidding,” she chuckles. “I just like to know things, I guess. Helps me feel in control,” she admits. “Do you always wear the same expression? Or is it possible for you to crack a smile every once and a while?”

“I don’t smile unless I have a reason,” he replies.

Fallon looks at him, faux offense on her face, “And I’m not enough of a reason? Y’know, you could at least pretend to be enjoying my company.” 

“No.” 

“All right,” she nods, lips formed in a tight line. “Point taken.” Her eyes travel back up to the sky, getting lost in the warmth the moon provides her. A moment of silence passes between them, Derek taking notice of her interest in the bright ball in the sky. “I’ve always loved the moon,” she tells him quietly, having just caught him staring at her. “It’s always constant even when you feel like you’re drowning,” she says thoughtfully. 

Derek’s eyes travel upwards as well, the crease in his eyebrows disappearing slightly. His expression is unreadable, “The moon can be a reminder of both strength and vulnerability.” 

She nods her head, her signature smirk returning. Derek internally groans at the sight. “How poetic,” her teeth shine brightly in the pale light. “I have to say, you are full of surprises.” 

A shiver runs down Fallon’s spine, goosebumps forming on her skin. She didn’t even notice how much colder it had gotten out until just now. She wraps her arms around herself trying to preserve some warmth. It’s times like these where she wishes she could find Stiles to steal whatever coat he brought. 

Her eyebrows scrunch up when she feels a blanket of warmth cover her. She glances up, now seeing a black leather jacket encompassing her entire body. Derek stands there in just a tight t-shirt, looking at Scott in the distance, not even addressing the fact he just gave her his jacket. 

“And there’s another one…” she mumbles with a more genuine tone, referencing the amount of surprises this man has stored beneath his icy exterior. 

“You were cold,” Derek shrugs, his voice as gruff as ever. “Don't read into it.” 

“Relax,” she smiles. “Your secret is safe with me.” 

He glances at her with a confused expression, “What secret?” 

“That you actually have a heart beneath all of those walls you put up,” she puts simply. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. I get that the werewolf police have a certain reputation to uphold.” 

Something happens across the way. Fallon can’t see it or sense it for that matter, but Derek can. He can feel Scott getting ready to shift. His eyes travel once more to the shorter girl next to him, “You need to be careful, Fallon,” he cautions. “If anything happens, if you see something you know isn’t normal, you need to get out.” 

She isn’t surprised by him blatantly ignoring her joke, but she can see a new sense of urgency behind his eyes. He has somewhere he needs to go. She nods in understanding, “Got it. Thanks for the warning, Derek.” 

Then he’s gone again without a word, and that’s when Fallon notices Scott and Allison’s absence from the loud party. She mentally curses herself for getting so easily distracted. Even Derek managed to keep up with her and watch Scott at the same time. 

A hand snags her wrist, spinning her around. She comes face to face with an out of breath Stiles. He pants heavily, “W-where– agh, gimme a sec.” He puts his hands on his knees, trying to collect himself. He manages to stand back up, “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Scott, he’s–”

“Turning,” she huffs, running a hand through her hair. “I know. I was watching him, but I got distracted. Where is he now?” 

“Gone,” Stiles looks at her worriedly, both of them not knowing what their friend is capable of. “And we have another problem. Derek took Allison.” 

“What?” She asks in complete shock. How did he manage to do that so quickly? He just walked away from her a few seconds ago. 

“Yeah,” Stiles nods vigorously as he begins to guide her out of the party. “We need to find him. And Allison. And make sure he doesn’t kill anybody. We have a long list of things on our plate for this evening and–” he pauses for a moment, taking in her appearance. 

“Where did you get that jacket?” 

        · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Stiles and Fallon reluctantly parted ways after he dragged her from the party. The brunette sped off to Allison’s house, hoping that when she got there the Argent girl would be safe and sound in her house. Thankfully, she was. It seems all Derek did was what he said he would do. Give her a ride home. The only reason Fallon could think of why he made such a big deal out of it was to get a rise out of Scott. 

“Shouldn’t you be home?” Allison asks Fallon, handing her a cup of tea that her mother, Victoria Argent, made for them. “It’s late.” 

The two girls get comfy on the couch. Fallon takes a small sip of the hot beverage, “My dad’s working all night so… I don’t really have anything else going on,” she admits. “I just saw Scott kind of storm out of the party and I wanted to make sure you got home okay.” 

Allison smiles at Fallon’s kindness, “You really didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I did,” she insists. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t? Besides, it is family night, remember?” She teases, nudging her shoulder.

Allison cringes as she remembers the blatant lie they told to Jackson and Lydia. “Then I ended up going anyway.” 

“We both did,” Fallon reassures. “I don’t think they even remember we lied in the first place. They were just happy we showed up.” 

Allison sets her mug down, the humor from what they just said dying down. There’s a beat of silence, the only sound between them is Fallon tapping the side of the mug with her nails. She glances at Fallon with a serious expression on her face. “So, I know you and Scott are really close and everything and I just–” she exhales, sinking into the couch. “I don’t really know what to do with him,” she says quietly. “I mean, does he always ditch his dates when he’s there ride? Or is that just a new thing he started with me?” She asks with an upset laugh.

Fallon pauses. She should’ve known this would come up. Not that she blames Allison’s curiosity. Scott definitely should not have abandoned her like that, but it’s not as if he could control turning into a killer werewolf. She clutches her mug in her hands, “Well, Scott’s never actually had a date before, so no he doesn’t ditch his dates often,” she says with an awkward chuckle. “But I suppose the answer to your second question would be yes as he’s never had the opportunity to act this dumb with a girl,” Fallon explains. 

Allison looks as if she’s trying to remain angry, but hearing that she’s Scott’s first ever date makes her soften a bit. “He’s really never been on a date?” She asks with genuine affection. 

Fallon shakes her head, “No. He’s never really found someone who interests him in that way. Well, until he met you at least.” 

She didn’t know when she became Scott’s wing woman, but he owes her big time for this. Talking him up to her new girl friend was not on her agenda for the evening. “Am I gonna regret being with him?” Allison turns to face Fallon fully, crossing her legs over each other as she sits on the couch. 

Fallon shrugs, “Probably. But I can promise you that he’s a really great guy. A little dumb and misguided, but he would do anything for you,” she says with a small smile. “Once Scott has taken a liking to someone, he’ll do anything for them. That’s just the kind of guy he is. I can guarantee that he’ll probably be knocking on your door tomorrow morning begging for you to give him a second chance.” 

“Do you think I should?” 

“That’s up to you,” Fallon pats her leg. “While I love Scott with every fiber of my being, you’re my friend too. I’ll support both of you no matter what happens.” 

Allison’s heart warms at her words. She leans forward, pulling Fallon in for a hug. Fallon’s eyes widen, but she accepts the physical affection anyway. “Thank you,” Allison mutters. 

“Alright ladies,” Victoria comes sauntering out of the kitchen with a different assortment of cookies on a tray. She smiles, but there’s something unsettling about it. About her, really. Fallon can’t quite put her finger on it. “I brought some snacks,” she places the small tray on the coffee table before sitting down on one of the lounge chairs near the couch. 

There’s a newfound tension between the three of them. Perhaps it’s because Fallon is new to their home. “Thank you, Mrs. Argent,” the shorter girl nods gratefully. “Again, I’m really sorry about coming by so late. I just wanted to make sure Allison made it home okay after the get together at Lydia’s.” 

“No need to apologize,” Victoria waves off. “It’s nice to see that Allison has made such a good friend so early on.” She takes a sip of her own tea before glancing out the window. She looks slightly shocked before glancing back to Fallon, “Is that motorcycle yours?” 

Fallon tries to decipher if her tone is curious or judgemental. Her consensus is that it’s both. She swallows thickly, “Um, yeah. Yeah, it is.” 

“And your parents are okay with you using that as your vehicle?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Mom!” Allison says warningly, shooting her a scolding look.

“No, it’s okay,” Fallon assures her friend before looking back to her mother. “Well, it’s just my dad and I. My mom passed away a long time ago,” she explains. “He’s not the biggest fan of it, but he knows it makes me happy and that I’m safe when I ride it, so he lets me.” 

“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry to hear about your mother,” Victoria frowns. “It must be difficult living without her.” 

Fallon shrugs, “It is. I miss her everyday. But she was a happy person. She would be really angry with my dad and I if we lived our lives just mourning her.” 

“Well, she sounds like a wonderful woman,” Victoria says thoughtfully. 

“She was.” 

There’s a moment of complete quiet between the three. Allison feels terrible for how her mom practically gave Fallon the third degree about her life. She internally groans when noticing her mom getting ready for another round of questions. 

“So,” Victoria clears her throat, “How did you two meet?” 

“At school,” Allison answers. “We have the same English class. She came up to me afterwards and actually tried to help me get out of going to the party we just went to,” she says, both girls laughing at the situation.

Victoria goes to speak but is cut off by their front door opening. An older man, no doubt Allison’s father, trudges through the door. A large gun is slung across his body making Fallon’s eyes bug out of her head. A million thoughts run through her mind as to why he would be returning so late with such a large weapon. 

“Victoria, whose motorcycle is in the front yard?” The man yells before looking up and seeing a complete stranger in his living room. “Oh,” he says, more surprised by her presence than Fallon was by the gun. 

Fallon’s hands begin sweating profusely. She wipes them on her pants before standing up and walking over to him. She smiles with no teeth, trying to hide her nerves. She sticks her hand out, “That would be mine, sir. My name is Fallon Donovan, I’m a friend of Allison’s,” she introduces. 

“Chris,” he shakes her hand. “Allison’s dad.” He nods rather impressed by the young girl in front of him, “Firm handshake, very nice.” He glances over to his wife, “I’m gonna go clean up. It was really nice to meet you, Fallon. Hopefully we can have a better conversation the next time we meet,” he nods, walking away from the three women. 

Fallon walks back over to the couch as Victoria stands up, “I should probably go make sure the sale went well,” she says. “Chris is a licensed arms dealer to law enforcement,” her explanation comes off a bit too naturally, but Fallon doesn’t think too much of it. They’re probably desensitized to how interesting of an occupation that is. “Fallon, why don’t you stay over tonight?” Victoria suggests. “I’m sure Allison would love that, right honey?” 

Her eyes widen, some cookie crumbs covering her lips. She swallows the fudge stripe she no doubt just shoved in her mouth. She nods, “Yeah, yeah that would be cool. If you want?” She glances at Fallon. 

“You know what?” Fallon smiles. “Let’s do it. I’ll just text my dad and let him know I won’t be there in the morning.” 

“Great,” Victoria nods. “Make yourself at home Fallon. Any friend of Allison’s is family to us.” 

As Victoria disappears down the hallway, Allison mumbles something about getting extra blankets for the two of them. Fallon stands from her spot, gathering all of her things to move upstairs with Allison. She shoots her dad a quick text and to her surprise he responds with a thumbs up and heart emoji. She giggles, knowing he must be running between rooms right now. 

Her eyebrows furrow when Scott’s name flashes at the top of her screen. Where are you? His text reads. 

Allison’s house. Nice move btw, leaving her alone at a party. Fallon types back sarcastically. She’s okay, but you better be thinking of some way to make it up to her. 

Wait, you’re at her house?!

Fallon furrows her eyebrows, Yeah… Didn’t Stiles tell you we separated so he could find you and I could check on Allison? 

Is her dad home? Scott asks. 

Yeah. He just got here. Allison yells for Fallon to meet her upstairs. The brunette girl makes way over, still staring at the phone as she begins to climb. Why?

Because he just got done shooting at me in the woods. I don’t think he knows it was me. Just be careful. Don’t tell him what you know.

Fallon’s eyes snap over to the left as she watches Chris emerge from his bedroom. The two of them make eye contact, making a cold sweat break out on her neck. She sends him a tight-lipped smile, trying to make everything seem normal. He nods at her and she responds with a small wave before clambering up the stairs and into Allison’s room. 

It's real. You’re a werewolf? 

Unfortunately.

Jealousy, Jealousy

Derek Hale x Reader

TW: Mentions of blood and death, werewolfy things, Stiles being an absolute spaz, age gap, Jennifer Blake (cause she’s a warning on her own), major feels, and a tiny bit of angst, some bad words. I think that it y’all. Once again, let me know if I missed something!

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

There have always been two constants in Y/N L/N life when it came to living in Beacon Hills, life threatening creatures and the possibility of her imminent death. When she became friends with Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall in Kindergarten, she wasn’t completely aware of what she signed up for. Most people would think the constant Star Wars marathons with Stiles and lacrosse training with Scott would’ve drove her away early on, but she stayed. Not that they’d let her leave even if she tried. Having them as her best friends has always been a blessing and a curse. She would do anything for them, but she didn’t know anything included becoming a supernatural creature.

A werewolf to be precise.

The night of the dance their sophomore year, Y/N had seen Lydia walk out of the dance in which she assumed was in search of Jackson. But when she saw the blonde boy lingering in the hallways, she had a feeling something was off. When she went in search of the girl and found her at the lacrosse field, there was no escaping their inevitable fate. That was one of the many times Y/N thought she’d meet her end. Watching Peter Hale run towards them at fully speed before taking a nice bite out of their skin was not on her bucket list for the evening.

Since then there have been plenty adventures for the “McCall Pack” as she’d like to call it. Allison’s grandfather Gerard coming to town, the Kanima, Derek and his pack trying to kill Lydia, then finding out it was Jackson, only to have him turn into a werewolf and run off to London. There might have been a couple kidnappings and restraining order somewhere in there, but those are minor details.

And, of course, with a new year comes new threats. There has been a recent string of kidnappings that turned into murders that none of them have been able to solve yet. They’ve tried as a group to brainstorm, meeting at Derek’s new loft every so often to get the entire groups opinion, but nothing has come out of it. Well, besides spending extra time with the Alpha. That’s an aspect Y/N didn’t mind in the slightest.

She had no issues making herself at home in his loft, despite his halfhearted protests. No one could understand how Y/N had the ability to just throw her feet up on his coffee table and not get her throat ripped out. It’s either she has no regard for her life, or Derek has a soft spot for her which is something no one saw coming.

The two have always had an interesting relationship. Y/N enjoys arguing, similar to Stiles hence why they get along so well. She loves getting under Derek’s skin and pushing every button she knows he has. It’s almost as if she goes out of her way to try and get a reaction out of him. No one blames her really, it gets entertaining hearing them go at it. Especially for Stiles.

Whenever anyone needs to ask Derek for a favor, the first person they send his way is Y/N. For one, they’ve only ever heard the word “yes” come out of his mouth when talking to her, and she’s the most likely one not to flinch if she has to kill him. She has a conscious, it’s just not always active.

Y/N rides up to Beacon Hills High on her motorcycle before parking in the thin spot near the bike rack. She carefully takes off her helmet, smoothing down any stray pieces of hair that might’ve fallen out of place. She had been told to go to Derek’s the night before to ask him if he’s found anything out about their new lethal friend, the only issue is when she got there, she could hear her new teacher Jennifer Blake in the apartment with him. She felt the urge to completely kick the door down and interrupt whatever conversation was happening, but she practiced a high level of self-restraint. She knew Derek was aware of her being there. He could smell her the same way she could him. But the hot white rage that filled Y/N’s chest forced her to walk away and ride angrily back to Stiles’s place.

Scott and Stiles watch their friend from the steps at the entrance to the school. Her ever present frown is a little troubling as it is much more prominent than usual. They didn’t get the full details about what angered her so much the night before, but it’s clearly still bothering her. She takes the keys out of her bike before stomping up to them. When she notices them staring at her, she lifts an eyebrow, “Something you wanna say?” She challenges. Both boys look at each other and simultaneously shoot her a fake smile.

“You– you look nice today,” Stiles comments awkwardly as he rubs the back of his neck. “Did you uh– did you do something new with your hair?”

Y/N stared at him blankly while Scott mentally facepalms at his friends attempt at covering up their concern. She simply shakes her head, looping her arms through both of theirs. “I’m fine if that’s what you guys are wondering. Derek was busy last night so I just came back to the house. That’s it,” she explains shortly, leaving no room for questions.

Scott scrunches his nose and a look of realization dawns on his face. It quickly morphs into disgust the more he thinks about it and Stiles furrows his eyebrows curiously. He looks over Y/N’s head and waits for his other best friend to clue him in on what’s got him all bothered. Scott makes sure Y/N’s more focused on weaving through the crowd before mouthing “She’s jealous” over to Stiles.

“I’m gonna grab my notebook real quick,” she tells them. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as she reaches her locker, Stiles leans over to attempt a discreet conversation with Scott. “What do you mean she’s jealous?” He asks in a whisper. “Jealous of what?”

“I don’t know,” Scott answers, watching Y/N carefully. “But I’m assuming it had something to do with what happened at Derek’s last night.”

“Why would she be jealous over something with Derek?” Stiles scoffs, his eyebrows furrowed.

Scott shoots him a pointed look. Stiles is an absolute genius when it comes to certain topics, but girls and social cues are not one of them. His jaw drops slightly when he realizes what Scott’s implying. He rapidly shakes his head, flailing his arms in the air. “No– no, uh-uh. There’s no way. Absolutely not.”

“It’s not like you can stop it,” Scott chuckles. “If she likes him, she likes him.”

“Oh God,” Stiles groans disgustedly. “Out of all people? Sourwolf? Really?”

Scott shrugs with an amused smile as Y/N turns to start walking back, “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

“Okay, but does it have to want him?” Stiles continues to complain. “And if she’s jealous that means there was someone else there last night. Who? Because last I checked, Derek is a very acquired taste.”

“How would I know?” Scott replies. “Now shut up before she realizes we’re talking about her.”

The three of them made a pact awhile back that they wouldn’t eavesdrop on each other’s private conversations unless they were in danger. So they knew it would be safe to have said discussion despite Y/N’s enhanced hearing.

“You guys ready?” She asks.

Both nod vigorously, trying to hide their gossip, but their desperation to seem normal gives them away. Y/N simply rolls her eyes and says nothing. She once again links their arms together as they head towards their English class. No one needs werewolf senses to see how tense and angry Y/N got at the sight of Ms. Blake. The fury behind her eyes is one everyone in the pack has had to face at one point or another. Scott vividly remembers those eyes when Issac stole the last piece of her banana bread from when they went to the bakery they all love, and she threw him clear across his house.

Y/N separates herself from the boys, taking her spot next to Alison and Lydia while the boys sit down behind them. It’s a miracle how they all ended up in the same class. Y/N opens up her notebook, choosing to doodle rather than pay attention to whatever Ms. Blake is writing on the whit board in front of them. Alison looks at Y/N’s drawing with curiosity and smiles, “That’s really good,” she compliments.

It’s her beginning sketch to one of her favorite book characters, Sirius Black from Harry Potter. Y/N tries to muster a genuine grin, “Thanks,” she replies.

Alison isn’t clueless though. She can feel the difference in Y/N’s attitude from how she acts on a regular basis. She squints her eyes trying to silently figure it out before turning back to Scott who already knows what she’s wondering. What all of them were wondering. Who got Y/N so riled up? They know she’s jealous of something that happened with Derek, but who could she be jealous of?

“Alright, good morning everyone!” Jennifer greets with a smile that makes Y/N’s blood boil. She brings a hand up to play with her helix piercing to prevent her claws which will no doubt make an appearance by the end of this class. “Today, we're going to delve deeper into Shakespeare's Othello. I want you to focus on the themes of jealousy and manipulation that are littered throughout the text.”

Y/N’s eyes narrow on her teacher. The word “jealousy” feeling like a direct hit on their current situation. She cracks her neck before flipping to the page in their text book. She slouches in her chair, leg bouncing up and down. She quickly begins to run out of patience hearing the teachers heels click every time she takes a step.

“Y/N,” Jennifer calls out. “Why don’t you go ahead and start us off by reading the first paragraph?”

The grip Y/N has on her pencil tightens. There it is. Scott can not only smell it, but he can see it with his own eyes. The tension is more than palpable. Jennifer was the one at Derek’s last night. Y/N tilts her head, “Why can’t someone else do it?” She deflects coldly. “Lydia for example is quite the fan of our troubled poet.”

The challenge in her voice makes Jennifer hold back her own glare. She should’ve known Y/N would be the student to give her trouble from the beginning. The class shifts uncomfortably from the sudden chill in the air. “Y/N, it’s important for everyone to participate. Please, read the passage,” she requests with forced patience.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” the (h/c) haired girl answers, folding her hands together as she leans on the desk. “I have crippling anxiety when it comes to reading in front of people. You wouldn’t want to do something to cause a breakdown would you?” She asks in the most taunting voice possible.

Lydia and Alison both stare at their friend with confusion. Stiles has to sink low in his chair to hide the inevitable laughter that’s about to come out of his mouth. While Scott just covers his face with his hands, waiting for World War Y/N to take place in his English class.

Jennifer quirks an eyebrow, “Did you not just do the school play of Beauty and the Beast last month? Where you played Belle? The lead role?”

Silence.

“That’s different, Ms. Blake,” Y/N corrects. “Not that I’d expect you to understand, but playing a character and who I am in real life is completely separate.”

“Well, that’s perfect then,” she nods. “Why don’t you go ahead and read it in character for us?”

A strong scent of copper fills Scott’s nose. He glances down and sees Y/N’s claws dug deep into her thigh. Stiles notices Scott’s wide eyes and glances where he’s looking. When he sees the wide open wound his face turns pale white before he shuffles in his chair.

“What a fantastic idea,” Y/N quips sarcastically before glancing down at the page below her. As she begins to read, the passive aggressiveness in her tone is evident. “O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on."

Her eyes lock with Jennifer's, and she can't help but add, under her breath but loud enough for her friends to pick up on, "How fitting"

Jennifer's expression hardens, but she maintains her composure. She leans on her desk while looking Y/N in the eye, “I would like a word with you after class Miss L/N,” she says coolly before continuing on with her lesson.

The glare on Y/N’s face never fades. She burns holes into the back of Jennifer’s head. Scott grew increasingly more worried that her eyes would flash, giving away her secret for all to see. All four of her friends exchange worried glances. Y/N’s never really been one to get in trouble on her own accord. She’s gotten detention, but ninety percent of the times it’s because Scott and Stiles roped her into it. The boys take it upon themselves to text Lydia and Alison, informing them of their theory of what is causing Y/N’s sudden aggression.

Lydia purses her lips together as she reads the texts. She leans back to whisper to Stiles, “This should be interesting…”

The rest of the class drags on, time ticking fairly slow. Y/N doesn’t say much, but the nasty looks she shoots cut more deeply than any words ever could. Halfway through the period, Stiles places his hand on her back to help keep her calm, which she wouldn’t admit, helped a lot. When the bell finally rings, the students begin to file out. Y/N stays behind, her anger barely contained. Scott, Stiles, Alison, and Lydia linger outside the door, trying to listen in on the upcoming confrontation.

Y/N rolls her eyes as she slings her bag over her shoulder. She approaches Jennifer’s desk with a sickly sweet smile. The teacher doesn’t buy it though. “Y/N, what is going on with you today?” She questions firmly, feigning concern for the younger girl.

Y/N shakes her head, producing the most innocent face she could. “Going on with me? Nothing at all, Miss Blake. I am doing just dandy. Why do you ask?"

Jennifer bites the inside of her cheek, narrowing her eyes, but she manages to keep her tone measured. "Your behavior today has been disruptive and disrespectful. You are a talented and well-read young woman. I expected more from you."

Y/N chuckles, leaning more of her weight on her left side, popping her hip to show just how much she truly cares about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do, given your high standards and all. It must be exhausting to keep up appearances,” she comments with a deceptive charm.

The older woman’s nostrils flare, knowing exactly what she’s trying to get at. Of course this is what her behavior is all about. Jennifer takes a deep breath, “Y/N, your comments today were out of line. This isn’t about keeping up appearances, it’s about maintaining respect in the classroom."

Y/N walks closer to her desk with a sly smile. She traces her finger up the wood, rubbing the dust in between her fingers. “Respect? Funny you should mention that. It seems respect is a bit... selective around here."

Jennifer's patience finally snaps, though she tries to mask it with a strained smile. “Y/N, your insinuations are inappropriate. Whatever issues you think exist, this isn't the place to air them."

Y/N barely even makes eye contact with the woman, flicking off the small dust bunny she formed with her fingers. “Of course,” she agrees mildly. “From now on, I’ll make sure to be more… discreet.”

Her teacher’s eyes flash with irritation, “You know what? Your behavior today has been unacceptable. Detention. After school. I expect to see you here as soon as the bell rings.”

Y/N opens her mouth to argue, but the look in Jennifer's eyes stops her. She storms out of the classroom, her friends quickly falling into step beside her. Stiles trips over his own footing as he tries to grab Y/N’s wrist, “Would you just– Jesus– Y/N. Slow down!” He exclaims, finally catching her. He grabs onto her, holding the girl in place.

Y/N raises her eyebrows, “What?” She bites out. “I have to get to Calc.”

“Care to explain what the hell is going on with you?” Lydia tries to coax the information out of her. She knows it’s never good for Y/N out of all people to keep things bottled.

“Nothing’s going on with me,” she denies. “I’m fine. Are we done here?” She scoffs, spinning on her heel to walk away.

Scott runs in front of her, “Y/N, we just want to help,” he insists softly.

“I don’t need your help!” She snaps. The wounded expression on his puppy dog face makes Y/N groan at her actions. She runs a hand over her face, “Look Scotty, I appreciate it. I appreciate all of you, really, I do. It means a lot that you care so much, but this isn’t something that I feel like talking about right now. I need space and time to plot out her murder and then maybe we can have a discussion later, okay?” She says nonchalantly, kissing Scott’s cheek before walking off to her calculus class.

They all stand there stunned for a moment. Stiles watches after her, pointing at the girl and turning back to his friends, “Did she– did she just say plot her murder?”

“Yup,” Alison nods, popping the “p.”

As the school day goes on, Scott and Stiles continuously try to monitor Y/N and her behavior. Something about her unhinged jealousy is putting everyone on edge. Luckily, the advanced classes they don’t have with her, Lydia does. So whenever they can’t be together, they assign someone else to watch over her.

When Lydia reports back, they’re all slightly shocked to hear that she was absolutely fine in all of her other classes. Which only affirms their theory that Ms. Blake was in Derek’s apartment last night, and that’s why Y/N acted the way that she did.

When the final bell of the day rings, Y/N growls under her breath, knowing she has to spend the next hour or so with Jennifer Blake in an enclosed space. She marches down the hallway, mumbling profanities under her breath before pushing the door to her classroom open. Stiles and Scott watch from afar, the latter trying to listen in for any painful screams. But knowing Y/N, if she truly were to murder someone, it wouldn’t be loud or obvious.

Y/N furrows her eyebrows when she sees Jennifer packing up her desk. When the woman hears her door open, she glances over in her students direction. “Miss L/N, I hope you had a good and reflective rest of your day,” she comments, clearly not interested in Y/N’s day whatsoever.

Y/N doesn’t bother responding. She simply stares at her straight faced with her arms crossed. Her patience is dwindling the longer they stand there. Jennifer picks up her handbag before sending Y/N the nastiest smile she could.

“Well, Mr. Harris should be here in a couple of minutes to oversee your detention, so you can wait in your seat until he arrives.”

Y/N’s eyes narrow, “And why exactly am I waiting for Mr. Harris? Weren’t you the one to give me a detention?”

Her teacher smirks, “Yes, yes I was,” she answers with a shrug.

“Then wouldn’t it be your responsibility to oversee it? You can’t just hand out detentions and not stick around for it,” Y/N scoffs.

“Normally, I wouldn’t be leaving like this. I would happily spend the next hour of my life lecturing you on proper classroom etiquette, but I have certain plans tonight that I’ve been looking forward to. So Mr. Harris has agreed to take you off my hands,” she explains.

Y/N can smell her smugness. Only if she demonstrated this side of herself in front of the class. Y/N clenches her hand tightly, feeling her claws emerging from her actual nails. Anger rushes through her, but she pushes it back with a curt nod. “How interesting. Do you mind me asking who these plans happen to be with?”

Jennifer cockily leans forward, whispering in Y/N’s ear, “You know exactly who they’re with.” Then she pulls away from the young girl, walking out of the classroom without a second glance.

The werewolf’s eyes flash a bright yellow as she watches Jennifer stalk off. She squeezes them shut, trying to avoid any kind of outburst. Her frustration grows by the second, her heart beating abnormally fast as she hears Jennifer getting in her car to no doubt drive to Derek’s loft. A red hot fire fills her soul as she makes a decision that will no doubt have consequences later. But she would rather serve a two hour detention with Harris than watch Derek be with that woman.

Y/N storms out of the classroom, running down the hallway. She ditches her detention, figuring she could come up with an emotional enough lie to relieve the punishment afterwards. Her backpack bounces up and down, smacking into her tailbone as she runs. Her feet pump as fast as they possibly can as she runs through the greenery of the woods. She doesn’t have to pay attention to where she is because her body already knows where it’s going. Almost as if she’s called to be there, her inner wolf begging to move faster.

When she finally slows down, she’s directly in front of the door to Derek’s loft. Her chest rises and falls with her shallow breaths as she simply stares at the door. She didn’t see or hear Jennifer’s car, so that means their’s still time. She licks her lips out of nervousness before hesitantly bringing her hand up to the door, knocking on it softly.

She waits anxiously, wiping her now sweaty hands on her jeans. Y/N’s not used to feeling like this ever. She doesn’t get nervous. Most of the time, she’s the most confident person anyone could meet. Hence why she was friends with Lydia before she even knew Stiles existed. When she goes over to Derek’s, she never usually feels like this. Like her heart might just beat out of her chest if she doesn’t see him. She fights off the small whimper threatening to escape her throat. She doesn’t need to be nervous and embarrassed when he answers the door.

Y/N rocks back and forth on her feet, growing more weary as time passes. Silence fills the air around her and she suddenly feels the urge to throw up when she hears footsteps growing closer. She silently prays he can’t smell how absolutely out of sorts she is. Her inner monologue to give herself a confidence boost doesn’t do much when she sees his shadow at the bottom crack of the door. When the door swings open, it reveals a very dressed up Derek Hale. His face turns into one of confusion when he sees her standing in front of him.

“Y/N,” he greets, completely shocked by her presence. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh– I– um,” she stumbles over her words which causes Derek to look at her with curiosity. She’s not the type to be at a loss for something to say. That’s one of the things he admires about her. She sucks in a deep breath, “I just needed to see you,” she answers.

Derek steps aside slightly, allowing her into his apartment. When she walks in she can’t help but feel safe. This loft has almost turned into her home away from home. She’s here more often than anyone else out of the pack, and Issac lives here. It isn’t until now that Derek can smell the mix of emotions radiating off of her. It’s a concoction of things and he can’t tell which is the primary source of her unannounced appearance.

“What’s this about?” He asks her with a lifted brow.

Y/N sighs, trying to blink back the intermittent flashing of her eyes. “I know someone was here last night,” she reveals. “I came by and heard her. Then I find out today that you two apparently have plans,” she continues getting progressively more irritated. “Which didn’t make sense to me because I thought you were smarter than that.”

Derek crosses his arms, his own anger rising at her tone. He’s used to her empty sarcasm and insults, but this time it’s fueled by actual emotion which sets him equally on edge. “It’s none of your business who I have plans with, Y/N,” he says shortly.

Y/N laughs humorlessly, “None of my business? It is absolutely my business if the person you have these plans with is a complete stranger!” She exclaims loudly. “We don’t know her Derek. She could be the person behind all these killings and kidnappings and we wouldn’t be any the wiser!”

“Your teacher?” He challenges. “Responsible for everything that’s going on?” He chuckles at the obscurity. “Right. I’m sure that’s it,” he shakes his head at the accusation. “Isn’t the whole point of making plans to get to know someone? So wouldn’t it be nice if I did go out with her?”

“She’s manipulating you,” Y/N insists. “And you’re obviously too blind to even see it.”

“Why do you care so much?” Derek asks, his voice elevating as well.

“Because–” She waves her hands around exasperatedly, trying to find the words. “You’re not exactly known for your taste in women!” She all but scolds. “Remember Kate? The lady that up and killed your entire family. Well, I remember her so forgive me for trying to keep your stupid werewolf ass alive!”

Derek goes to retaliate but that’s when he hears it. Her heart rate speeds up. She’s lying to him. That’s not why she really cares. He can clearly see her anger and smell the annoyance radiating off of her, along with a couple of other things. But there’s a sweet smell accompanying it. One that Derek finds rather endearing. Jealousy. Y/N L/N is jealous. He wouldn’t have picked up on it if she hadn’t just blatantly lied. Suddenly her bursting in and berating him makes sense. He smirks when he notices her clenched fists. It’s about time she’s felt the green-eyed monster that constantly visits him when he sees her with other guys. When she’s laughing boisterously about something Scott said, whenever she comes over to see him but ends up talking to Isaac for hours on end. Especially when he found out she kissed Stiles last year after he was kidnapped by Gerard. It truly has been a miracle that no one ever sensed his jealousy when it came to her.

Derek takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Why did you really come here, Y/N?” He asks lowly, trying to get her to admit her feelings. “Tell me what you’re really trying to say…”

Y/N feels her face flush as he gets closer. She doesn’t want him to know the real reason why she raced across town to be here. The walls begin to close in around her, so she lashes out in a last ditch effort to protect herself.

“I’m trying to look out for you! You’re stubborn, Derek,” she chastises. “You don’t listen to anything anyone tells you. You like to pretend you’re always ready and prepared for anything, but you’re not! You are just as emotional and vulnerable as everyone else despite being hurt as many times as you have! You’re reckless when it comes to women, so I’m simply trying to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or the pack by making a stupid mistake.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t back down. In fact, he gets closer to her in attempts to pressure it out of her. “You’re avoiding my question, Y/N,” he says darkly. “What’s really going on?”

Feeling cornered, Y/N tries to take in a couple of deep breaths but it fails miserably. She can’t tell him. Not now. Not when he’s interested in another women who’s already on her way here. He even got dressed up for her. She’s never seen Derek in a white button up polo and slacks. It makes her frown thinking that it’s not for her. She scoffs softly before shaking her head, “Forget it,” she mumbles. The h/c haired girl pushes past him, shoulder checking him on her way to the door. “I shouldn’t have come here. Have fun on your date or whatever you wanna call it.”

She slams the door behind her before stomping down the flight of stairs that leads up to his building. When she walks outside, the sky opens up, almost mimicking her inner turmoil with its own storm. Rain pours down on her, soaking her clothing completely as she gets ready to run home, or in all truth, to Stiles house. All she knows is that she can’t be here anymore.

“Y/N, wait!” Derek calls out.

She doesn’t bother turning around, heading the exact way she came. She should’ve figured that he would’ve caught up to her with ease. He’s never had a problem showing her who’s in charge. He grabs her wrist gently but firmly, not allowing her to leave.

“Stop running away,” he commands. “Just tell me the truth.”

Y/N’s eyes once again begin flashing yellow, differing completely from her regular piercing e/c gaze. “Let go of me, Derek,” she demands with a bit of a growl in her voice.

“Not until you stop being so damn hardheaded!” He yells, trying to make his voice heard over the pounding rain. “Tell me!”

“Why do you even care?!” Y/N screams back. “Why does it matter when you’re already here waiting for another woman?”

Derek’s eyes soften slightly, and he pulls Y/N closer to him by her wrist. Her breath hitches in her throat as her hand practically rests on his muscular chest. His lips are so impossibly close that any coherent thought she had before this moment have been completely erased from her long and short term memory.

“Because I need to hear you say it,” his voice got impossibly low, sending a chill through her body that has nothing to do with the cold water hitting her back.

Y/N’s lips part slightly as his thumb comes up to brush the side of her cheek. Her body is drawn to him. The wolf inside of her is trying to claw its way out and into his arms, but she manages to steady herself. “Fine,” she breathes out, not being able to force herself to look away. “I’m jealous, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That it made me want to commit first-degree murder last night when I heard her voice in your apartment, knowing that it would’ve been me in there if I had shown up just a tad bit earlier? So yes, Derek, I am jealous. You win.”

Derek’s eyes darken at the breathiness of her voice. He places the hand that was holding her wrist on her waist to keep her pressed securely against his front. Both of their hearts beat in unison, “Why didn’t you just say that when I asked the first time?”

Y/N’s defense starts to crumble beneath her, “Because I didn’t want you to think I was weak for succumbing to something stupid like that,” she admits.

Derek laughs, showing off his pearly white teeth, “I would’ve never thought you were weak.” He reassures when he notices the small frown etched on her face. “You’ve never been weak. A bit obstinate? Sure. But not weak.”

Y/N can feel the sincerity in his voice. She doesn’t protest his strong hold on her hip, but instead keeps her own hands occupied on his now soaked through white shirt. It’s not a bad view from where she’s standing. “I don’t think I can do this,” she whispers.

Derek’s eyebrows furrow, a pang of concern filling his heart. “Do what?”

“Keep pretending that I don’t care about you,” she says softly, her chest heaving up and down from how intense the moment they are sharing is.

Derek’s eyes flash their bright alpha red as a primal instinct clouds his brain. He leans close to her face, his stubble rubbing her cheek in just the right way. “Then don’t,” he says huskily.

Before she can respond, he leans in and kisses her, the rain pouring down around them. The kiss is intense, filled with all the emotions they’ve both been keeping at bay. It’s a collision of desire and frustration, their lips moving against each other with a desperate want. A primal need inside both of them. Y/N wraps her hands around his neck, tugging at the short strands of his black hair. Derek wastes no time placing both of his hands on her waist, squeezing the soft flesh. She giggles slightly from the sensation, making him smile. When they finally pull apart, they’re both breathless.

Y/N steps back, her heart racing, but Derek keeps his arm around her, protectively. “How come you ran away?” He asks quietly.

Y/N huffs, running a hand through her wet hair. She sighs loudly before admitting the truth, “I was scared.”

“Of what?” He questions, not believing the woman in front of him would be scared of anything.

“Of this,” she states obviously, gesturing in between them. “Of how much I feel for you. I’m not really big on emotions like this. I don’t know how to handle it. So I was scared of having to open up my heart when I wasn’t sure if you’d actually take care of it.”

The vulnerability in her answer snaps something in Derek’s mind. She has the same issues as he does. He hasn’t been able to truly give himself to anyone since Paige. He felt so strongly for her and then she was gone in an instant. And when he tried again with someone he didn’t even fully trust, he got burned again. Emotions besides anger have never been his forte. So when he hears Y/N admitting the same thing, it makes him realize that this is something they both can improve on.

He grins, kissing her forehead softly, “You don’t have to be scared. We can figure it all out together, okay? Both of us.”

At that moment, a car pulls up, and Derek pulls Y/N even tighter into his chest. The bright headlights blind them and they both try to shield their eyes in order to identify the owner of the vehicle. Y/N’s body tenses as Jennifer steps out, the woman’s expression shifting from surprise to anger as she sees them.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” she comments coldly. Her eyes zero in on Y/N who has a rather tight grip on Derek’s shirt, “Miss L/N, shouldn’t you be at school serving the detention you earned today for your behavior in my class?”

“I had better things to do,” Y/N bites back. “As you can see,” she says, pointing at Derek’s chiseled form.

A shit-eating grin forms on Derek’s lips at her words. They both swear they see Jennifer’s eye twitch from the insinuation Y/N just made. He doesn’t bother trying to cover up what just happened and keeps his hands firmly on Y/N’s hips.

“Yes, I can see that,” Jennifer narrows her eyes at their proximity.

Derek can feel the situation getting ready to escalate so he keeps Y/N safeguarded within his hold. He nods over to Jennifer’s car, “I think it would be best if you left,” he states unforgivingly making Y/N smile.

Jennifer sends them both a pointed look, “I think so too,” she agrees before spinning on her heel and walking back towards her car. “We’ll see just how well this works out for the two of you. Let’s hope you don’t regret it.”

She closes the drivers side door before speeding off out of the parking lot. Both Derek and Y/N are left standing in the rain, now knowing that things have just become a lot more complicated than they were before. But even in the midst of her subtle threat and imminent danger, the two of them don’t seem worried in the slightest.

Because they’ll handle that together too.