Derek Hale Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

Derek Hale x Scott's sister, Sarah McCall

Sarah is older than Scott and only a year younger than Derek. (because big age gaps scare me). She works at the hospital with her mother and is a pharmacist and also a Druid of Scott's pack.

Timeline : In TW S1, after Sarah rescues Derek from Kate.

Sarah :

I run to the basement where they've been keeping Derek. Scott follows close behind me, and even when he is the supernatural one, it seems like I am running faster.

"CeeCee," Scott says, "Be careful." Even when I pretend like I don't like it when he calls me that, on the inside, I do. When Scott was a baby, he couldn't pronounce my name. He used to say 'CeeCee'. Even when he learnt the correct pronunciation, he still calls me that.

"Are you sure that this is the place?" I ask him as we come to a stop outside the door. My heart's been hammering and I've been out of my mind with worry. I had met Derek not a long time ago, but him and I, there's a bond developed between us. I'm sure that we have a connection. Like when he growls at every man who looks my way, when he almost became a wolf and killed that one man who tried to steal my purse, yup, I know he's into me.

And so am I. I like being with him. To the world, he's a dry, humourless, dead-inside person, but to me, he's just a man who's been alone for too long. People look at him like he's some kind of monster, but to be honest, my father was more of a monster than he is.

I hear voices inside, and put my ear to the door. Scott doesn't have to.

Derek: "Are you gonna torture me, or are you just gonna talk me to death?"

Kate: "Oh, sweetie, I don't- I don't wanna torture you. I just... wanna catch up. Remember all the fun we had together?"

Derek: "Like the time you burned my family alive?"

Kate: "No, I was thinking more about the hot, crazy sex we had. But the fire thing? Yeah, that was fun, too. I love how much you hate me. Remember how this felt?"

I take away my ear. I have to save Derek, not vomit at this door. Whatever Kate had in mind after she said that, it is disturbing. Still, a pang rocks my heart when I realise that she saw the innocent, kind part of Derek which I'll most likely never see.

Not the time to be jealous.

Kate walks away, and Scott and I burst open the door. I cough due to the dust, but Scott stands in front of Derek with his jaw clenched. Derek sees him first and then I step into the light. Derek's eyes widen.

"Why is she here?" He snaps at Scott, making my heart crack.

"I'd suggest you to be a bit more grateful, Derek! Since she was the one who insisted on saving your life as soon as possible after she located where you were being tortured!" Scott snarls at him. I give him a soft smile. If there's anything Scott doesn't tolerate, it's the disrespect of his sister.

"I am grateful for that." Derek grits his teeth. He refuses to make eye contact with me. "But do you remember that she's human? She can't heal like us! What if something happens to her-"

"Look at me!" I snarl at him. "I'm done sitting safely in my house while a crazy werewolf hunter tries to hurt my brother and my-"

I break of mid-sentence. My? Derek? Mine?

"You!" I grit out. "And don't even get me started on that crazy alpha wandering around beacon hills." He's looking at me now, his eyes full of emotion, a rarity when we talk about Derek. "You need me, Derek. Admit it."

I don't give him a chance to speak and step up to him, removing his cuffs. Once I free his hands, he doesn't move, just keeps them on my waist and I wrap my arms around his neck. He touches his head to mine and says, "You have no idea how much I need you. I need you to control myself. You're my anchor, Sarah McCall."

"I thought your anchor was anger." I tease him playfully. He kisses my head. "That was before I met you."

"Can you two stop? I don't wanna vomit here." Scott says from behind me. "Derek, we need to talk to you. About Peter."

I try to move away but he holds my hand. "Derek, you cannot support Peter. You cannot be with him." I warn.

"If he's going to kill the Argents, I will." He says firmly.

"I'm not going to let you kill Allison!" Scott shouts at the top of his voice. "What is wrong with you, Scott?" Derek snarls at him exasperatedly, "She is from a family of hunters! Do you know what hunters do? They. Kill. Us. You're not in love, Scott! You're 16 years old!"

I flinch at his loud voice and he gives me an apologetic look. It feels like he's trying to explain that to himself other than Scott.

Scott is comtemplating and looks confused. "What if I told you, Peter was the one who killed your sister to become the Alpha?"

There is a shift in the air. I can feel it even without the wolfish senses. Derek's demeanour changes, and his eyes get darker till the shine into a vibrant blue.

"Derek," I whisper to him, "Calm down." The blue fades from his eyes but he still looks angry.

After we escape from there, I first take Derek to his loft to take a look at his injuries. Most of them are healed, but not all of them.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you." He says quietly as I patch up one of his injuries. "I know you were just looking out for me."

"Looking out for you is an understatement. I had gone mad with worry." I snort.

"I'm sorry." He says again. I don't reply.

After he's all patched up, we start thinking of a plan to catch Peter.

"Wait, you're not accompanying us, are you?" Derek asks me, wide-eyed.

"Of course I am. You idiots will mess everything up without me." I say promptly.

"Sweetheart, you probably don't want to hear this, but-" Derek sighs, "It's too risky. Peter won't stop at anything to get what he wants."

"And I will remain careful." I assure him. "You don't have to babysit me, Derek. I can take care of myself."

"I know," he hugs me, "I'm just worried about you. You're one of those few people I actually care for."

"How much do you care for me, hmm?" I tease him as we separate. "This much?" I hold my fingers with a little gap in them. "This much?" I widen the gap. "Or this much?" I hold my arms apart, gesturing to the space between them.

"This much." He says and his lips crash down on mine. I've never kissed him before, and kissing him feels surreal. He kisses me passionately and lovingly, like his entire world is me. I kiss him back with all the care and passion I've felt for him since the day I first saw him near the Hale house.

It feels like his lips are made for mine, and I sink into the kiss as I rejoice the feeling of us being together.

The First Meet

Derek Hale x Sarah McCall

"You lost your inhaler, Scott?" I scoff as I trudge along the woods with him and Stiles.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I should never have come here." He muttered.

"Damn right, you shouldn't have!" Sarah said and rounded on Stiles, "Investigating murder is your father's job, Stiles. Not yours."

"Relax Sarah, just because we didn't take you doesn't mean you have to be so sour about it," Stiles says casually. I shake my head in dismay.

"Just find the damn inhaler and let's get out of here," I mutter, crunching dry leaves beneath my feet and looking amongst them for Scott's inhaler.

"I don't know what's happening to me, CeeCee," Scott says softly, and I look at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I can smell your perfume from 20 feet away from you, and I can hear you and Stiles from 100 feet away." He explains.

I pause in my tracks and look at him. "What?"

"I swear I'm not lying. I can smell the bubblegum wrap in Stiles's pocket right now." He says. Stiles scoops it out of his pocket and throws it away.

"It was gross." Scott says and Stiles replies, "It was definitely gross."

"Since when has this been happening?" I ask. "Just this morning." Scott says, "There's a new girl in our school right now, and she was talking to someone outside the classroom, and I could hear what they were saying while sitting inside the classroom." He explains.

"Are you hallucinating, Scotty?" I ask worriedly. Dad leaving us had taken a toll on all three of us, and I don't want to see Scott trapped again in that vicious cycle.

"I'm not hallucinating." He sighs. Stiles chimes in, "I know what that means."

"What does that mean?" I ask him.

"He's caught an infection," Stiles says, "A particularly bad one. Only once a month will it trouble him though." Scott doesn't seem to understand but I do. I try my best to not laugh.

Stiles howls and Scott hits him on the arm. "Shut up dude."

After walking for a while, Scott stops both of us and says, "Wait, this is where I had seen the body."

"Well, there isn't any body over here right now," I say.

"The killer must've moved it!" Stiles says. "Well, I hope they didn't take my inhaler. That was for 80 dollars." Scott sighs.

Before I can reply, we hear a voice. "What are you doing here?"

I spin around and come face to face with the handsome Derek Hale. I had been in school with him, but he only hung out with the popular and sporty kids. Since I was neither, I doubt whether he knows I existed or not.

"This is private property." He says, glaring at us. I pass him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, we're just looking for an inhaler. My brother lost it here somewhere-"

"Here." He throws it at us, not letting me complete my sentence. I have the urge to grab the nearest stone and throw it at him, but I control myself. This is private property after all. Guess Derek didn't grow out of being a jerk, after all.

I don't thank him and look at Scott, who has caught the inhaler. "C'mon Scotty, Stiles, let's go."

"Thank you, for that," Scott says to Derek awkwardly and we start to walk away, I don't spare him a second glance.

"That was Derek Hale, right?" Stiles asks. I nod. "His family was burned alive in the Hale house fire. Stroke of luck that he survived." He says.

"I went to high school with him," I say, looking back but he's gone. "He was a jerk back then, nice to see that he hasn't grown out of that stage."

"Sarah on fire!" Stiles exclaims and laughs.

I tell them that I have the hospital to get to, and we bid each other goodbye. As I unlock the door to my car, I feel someone's presence behind me and I spin around and lose my balance.

Instead of plummeting facefirst to the ground, two strong arms stop me from falling and I find myself encased in Derek Hale's arms. He draws me to his chest and says, "Be careful, Sarah."

I push him and stand two steps away from him. "What are you doing here?" I don't take the liberty to be gentle. He needs to know that having a tragic past doesn't give him a free pass to treat other people like crap.

"You dropped something back there." He says casually and draws out my golden bracelet from his pocket. It wasn't made of gold, just plated by it. It had been Mom's gift to me. I cursed myself for losing it. "I came here to return it." He says, breaking my self-cursing chain of thoughts.

"Well, thank you for that," I say and extend my arm to take it from him. My hand brushes his slightly and he gently holds my wrist and ties the bracelet around it.

I pull my hand back, trying to forget the lingering effect his touch left on me. "Thank you." I clear my throat.

"No problem," He shrugs, "Be careful, Sarah." I look at my car and when I look back, he's gone. He has super speed or what?

I try not to think about him, but I can't help but think about how his fingers had felt on my wrist. And how would his lips feel if they were at the place of his fingers?

A few Sarah x Derek canons cuz I wanted to do this.

Sarah: Do you have any skeletons in your closet?

Derek: You mean literally or figuratively?

Sarah: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

Sarah: What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Derek: Wow, you could start with a 'good morning'.

Sarah: Good morning. What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Sarah: How do I deal with my enemies?

Derek: Kill them

Sarah: That's a bit extreme, I was hoping for a more passive solution

Derek: Kill them only a little?

Sarah, pointing: May I sit there?

Derek: That's my lap

Sarah: That doesn't answer my question, Derek.

Sarah: You often use humor to deflect trauma

Derek: Thank you

Sarah: I didn't say that was a good thing

Derek: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny.

Are You Still Here?

Derek Hale x Sarah McCall

Timeline: When Sarah and Derek are dating, near the end of season 3A, where she suspects that Derek is cheating on her with Jennifer.

Sarah's POV -

It's cold in here, and dark. Had his loft always been this dark and cold? No, it hasn't. It seems to have grown colder and colder since the last month since the time it feels like Derek has distanced himself from me.

I jolt awake from the merry state between sleep and awakeness, blinking rapidly. I stare at my side, at the cold and empty side which used to be warm, when Derek was here.

Now, I don't know anymore where he is. He comes home at odd hours and leaves almost immediately after, not telling me much about where he has been or where he is going to go. He appears so stressed and worried these days, that I don't bother him by asking too many questions.

But as I lie here, staring at the ceiling in the dark, I think that maybe I should ask questions. I'm his girlfriend, I have the right to know. Or am I? Is he seeing another woman behind my back?

No, he won't do that. He'd never cheat on me.

Still, a trail of doubt tugs at my gut. He has never confessed that he loves me, he has never made any promise to me that he won't leave me and shit.

No, I shouldn't think like that. Even when he has never said those things to me, I've seen the sincerity and affection in his eyes.

They say that the eyes can never lie, but now I wonder, can they? The ceiling stares back at me with no answer, and I groan in frustration. I should talk to Derek, shouldn't make assumptions.

Maybe, he's really busy with all of that stuff with the Alpha Pack and Deucalion. Maybe, I'm being doubtful for no reason, yet hear as I lie down, I keep asking myself, are me and Derek still a thing?

I haven't told Scott about this. The time he found out that I was dating Derek, it was after Derek killed Peter and turned Jackson into a kanima. I had been furious at him but had eventually forgiven him. I cannot stay mad at Derek, maybe those are the effects of falling in love.

Love.

I haven't told him that I have fallen in love with him, and now, I'm even more hesitant. I have always wondered what would happen if he doesn't love me back, and now that possibility scares me even more.

Scott doesn't know anything about Derek's been behaving, and if I do tell him, Scott will drag his ass and throw him at my feet. A chuckle escapes my lips as I imagine that. There has always been tension between Scott and Derek since the two have world views which are polar opposites. After Derek and I had started dating, Scott became even more protective of me. He clearly doesn't trust Derek much, but I cannot forget the conversation we had about my relationship.

I close my eyes and memories flood back.

"You know, CeeCee," Scott says seriously, "I don't trust him. Not a lot, to be honest."

"I know, Scotty," I say, "But he's not that bad. You two have different kinds of thinking and perspectives, but this doesn't make him a bad person."

"I don't think that he's a bad person," Scott says, "I just...don't trust him well, and not with you."

"You know I'm older than you, right?" I raise an eyebrow at him. He chuckles, "I know." But then he turns serious again, but his eyes are loving, "CeeCee, I don't trust him, but I do trust you. And I know that whatever choice you make, it will be good for you."

"Thank you," I say, squeezing his hand.

"But, if he ever causes even a teeny amount of discomfort, I'm dragging his werewolf ass out and shoving him in a sack of wolfsbane."

I laugh, "Thank you, but I don't think that it will ever come to that."

I open my eyes and smile sadly. At least Scotty's there with me. And Stiles too. And Mom, of course. And even Derek-

Scott is going to be so angry if Derek cheats on me.

I will be so angry if Derek cheats on me.

The bed feels suffocating, so I get up and sit on the couch in the living room. I'm staring into darkness when I hear the door creak open.

The breath whooshes out of my lungs as I see Derek stumble in, looking so tired and exhausted that I momentarily forget about everything else. Effects of falling in love.

"Derek?" I say and he looks at me. For a minute, our eyes lock and nothing else in this world matters. He then saunters towards the couch and he collapses down. I sit beside him. He holds my hand and breathes deeply. "Honey," He says, "Why're you still awake?"

That question makes me so angry that I want to hurl something at his head. He's asking me that like he wants me to sleep so that he can carry on with whatever he does without my interruption.

"Why do you ask that?" I seethe, "You wanted me to fall asleep so that you can carry on with whatever top-secret stuff you do?"

Derek immediately understands the issue. He looks at me with soft eyes and says, "Honey, I'm really sorry that I haven't been talking to you lately. I'm sorry that I haven't told you about anything that I'm doing. I'm just so sorry." He looks down in shame.

"Tell me now," I say, "Tell me Derek, what is keeping you so busy these days? What has driven you so much that you can't even find the time to spend with me? You're so absent, so...not there." I bite my lip, my heart hurting. Tears pool in my eyes, and I try not to cry.

"Honey I-" He tries to speak but I stop him.

"What is happening, Derek?" I say desperately, "What is happening to you? To us? We don't even talk to each other anymore! Whenever I have tried to reach out to you, you have swatted me away!" My voice is raised now, but I don't care.

"Do you not like me anymore?" I say, my chest heaving and tears pouring down my eyes, "Are you bored of me? Do you now like someone else? Is it Jennifer? Whatever it is, tell me! Talk to me! I'm right here! But the main question is, are you still here?"

I fall back on the couch and sniff. I needed this release.

Derek looks at me for a few minutes, and then says, "Since my family was burnt alive, I died too. Just not physically. I was a lone wolf, surviving on my own. I didn't have a pack, I didn't have an alpha, I was just a lonely beta with no good to this world. I thought that my entire life was going to be like this. I mean, why wouldn't it be?"

I listen quietly.

"And then there comes this girl trudging in the woods, all determined to find her brother's inhaler." He smiles. I have to admit, his smiles are the most beautiful thing in the world. "I recognise her, from the days I was in school. She thought that I wouldn't, but I did. I cannot believe it. The biology nerd from school has become such a beautiful woman."

I pout at him, but at least I'm not crying anymore.

"As I spend more time with her, I realise that she hasn't become beautiful suddenly, she always has been. I was just too blind to see it." He says, looking into my eyes, "She's beautiful from the inside out, and no one can ever be compared to her."

I now want to cry again.

"After I get to know her better, she helps me get to know myself better. Being in her presence, I realise that I am not dead, not really. I was just dull, dry, like a tree which hasn't been watered in years." He then takes a deep breath. "And you know what she is like? Rain."

He doesn't have to elaborate for me to understand. But if he thinks that he can butter me up with beautiful words to make me forget my anger, then he is wrong.

"I've never said these words to you," Derek says, and keeps my hand over his heart, "So now I'm going to say them."

I inhale sharply.

"I love you, Sarah McCall."

I am speechless. All the times I've imagined him saying that this had not crossed my mind.

"I love you, Sarah." He repeats, now smiling gently, "I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. Not even Paige."

"Derek I-" I pause and say, "I love you too."

We kiss and he mutters, "I'll never even think of cheating on you Sarah, ever. I love you." A few tears slide down my cheeks as I say softly, "I love you too."

The Piece That Doesn't Fit

Derek Hale x Sarah McCall

Timeline: After the last episode of Teen Wolf: Season 2

Derek's POV-

Sarah sleeps in my arms peacefully. Idly stroking her arm, I look at the ceiling and then back at her head, which is lying on my chest. I wonder what she thinks when she looks at me. I wonder why she trusts me. I kiss her head, whatever the reason is, I'm grateful that she does.

Gerard is dying, quite fast compared to cancer, according to what Chris said. He deserves it. I'm not big on forgiveness, and I haven't forgiven Allison either, but that's a story for another day. Everything else in the world can wait, I just want to be here with Sarah.

I have no one in my pack now, I realise. It's only Isaac, but he's more loyal to Scott. And I don't want to fight with Scott again, not after I've seen what it does to Sarah. Being torn between her brother and her boyfriend isn't the best place to be, and she used to be so frustrated and angry at everything.

Words flash into my mind for the hundredth time after the fight, words belonging to Gerard Argent. I'd rather never think of the bastard, but what he said feels like it's true.

"Scott, don't. You know that he's gonna kill me right after. He'll be an Alpha." I plead. Scott doesn't listen. He walks towards me determinedly, and Sarah yells, "Scott stop!" She tries to run towards us but the kanima throws Allison to the ground and grabs Sarah's throat instead.

My own death doesn't scare me more than that monster's hand around Sarah's throat. She isn't giving up, though. My brave, strong woman. My heavenly fire, she isn't giving up even in the face of imminent death.

"That's true... But I think he already knows that, don't you, Scott?" Gerard says, smirking. "He knows that the ultimate prize is Allison. Do this small task for me, and they can be together."

Sarah looks at her brother with disbelief, her eyes slowly flood with tears. "Scott...don't." She chokes. But her brother doesn't stop. He walks towards me, and I've never imagined a day where I'm afraid of Scott. But today is that day.

"Scott if anything happens to Derek, I'll never forgive you!" Sarah shouts, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

I try to reach for her, but can't. Listening to my name from her mouth feels like a declaration of love, and the fact that she's willing to go against her own brother for me makes me feel more loved than I have ever been. But it also makes me feel shameful. She's going against her brother for me.

Scott gives her a pleading look before sinking his claws in my neck. I groan in pain as he hauls me up.

"How very touching," Gerard says, looking at Sarah with malice. "You are the only piece that doesn't fit, Derek. And, in case you haven't learned yet, there is just no competing with young love." He spits at me.

Scott forces me to bite Gerard's arm and drops me to the cold ground. But I never hit it because two soft yet strong arms wrap around me, cushioning my fall. I collapse in Sarah's arms, resting my head on her shoulder. Sarah holds me tightly and whispers, "Don't worry. I'm here for you."

She is. I wrap both arms around her, inhaling her scent. She is here for me. She shouldn't be. What have I ever done to deserve her?

That's the same thought in my head as I reel out of the memory and look at her again. She stirs as if woken by the gravity of thoughts. Holding me tighter, she doesn't have to even look at me before saying, "Can't sleep?"

I pretend to be asleep, but she says, "Don't pretend. I may not be a werewolf but I can detect when you're not asleep."

"Fine," I grumble, turning to my side so that I'm spooning her now. "I can't sleep. Happy?" I kiss her shoulder and inhale her scent of vanilla and jasmine.

"Of course, I'm not 'happy'." She says, turning around to look at me. "Tell me why you're awake. You're supposed to be asleep."

"I know." I sigh, "I was watching you sleep."

"Right. And that's not creepy at all."

I laugh. "You look beautiful when you sleep. Your mouth's slightly open, and you hold me close to yourself. Of course, I'd love to see that."

Sarah blushes. Even after we've been together for months, she still blushes every time I say something romantic to her. She pulls a straight face again, and says, "Hey! You can't distract me by being romantic. Tell me, what's keeping you awake?"

"Nothing," I say, shrugging. She doesn't believe me. "I'm not stupid, Der."

"It's nothing, Sarah." I say, "Go back to sleep."

"I will once you do." She says adamantly.

Even when I don't want to, I turn my back on her, facing the other side. She hugs me from behind and says, "Tell me. What's bothering my Sourwolf?"

Stiles Fucking Stilinski. He gave me that nickname long ago and Sarah loved how mad I got because of it. So much so that even she calls me that.

I don't get mad at her when she calls me that, but still, it's obnoxious.

"Is it what Gerard said?" She asks, and my silence gives her the answer.

"Der, look at me." She says. I turn around and she kisses me. I kiss her back, pulling her on top of me. She breaks the kiss and lays her head on my chest again. I sigh contentedly.

"He was wrong when he said that," She murmurs, and I shake my head, "Was he? I think he was right. I don't fit among you guys, Sarah. I don't fit in Scott's perfect pack, not the traumatised, rude wolf, no."

Sarah doesn't say anything for a long time, and I almost think she has fallen asleep. But then she says, "Not yet."

I scoff. "You think's Scott gonna wanna want me as his ally? After we've been hating each other for months?"

"If there's anything my brother excels at, it's forgiveness." Sarah says slowly, "You may not be a part of Scott's pack, but that doesn't make you insignificant, Der."

I'm sure that she does not want to see me wallow in self-pity, but I can't help but say, "Gerard said otherwise."

"Since when do you take the old hog hag's words seriously?" She chides and I almost laugh. She's right, I shouldn't take Gerard seriously. But I cannot help it. I can't help but doubt if his words are true. Sarah would never let me believe it, but I do feel insignificant.

I turn around, and hug her. What would I do without her? When I came back to Beacon Hills, my sole purpose and focus was finding out who killed Laura, and leaving immediately after.

But then I saw two boys trudging around my house, one of them too noisy and the other wheezing from asthma. When the latter lost his inhaler, I had hoped that he wouldn't come back. I don't want anyone near my house.

But they did. And not just them this time, with them was a woman. Great, I had said to myself, I did not script in more guests. But then I saw her face, only from afar, but my breath was stolen out of my lungs. After a long time, I found myself smiling.

Sarah tries not to fall asleep, and I kiss her. She kisses me back and gives me a goofy smile. But then her face turns serious again.

"Gerard did whatever damage he could." She says grimly, "He said what he wanted to. And Derek, there are going to be people in your life who'll say some pretty mean shit to you."

"And I should rip their throat out." I say nonchalantly and she rolls her eyes, "No. How many people would you kill?" She asks me, and doesn't wait for an answer, "You know what, I actually don't wanna know."

I chuckle and she smiles at me softly.

"My point is," She says, "People talk. One day about one person, and the next day about the other. You cannot silence everyone. You cannot control what you hear, but you can control what you listen to."

I blink. That was a very heavy statement.

"Don't listen to people who don't care about you." She shrugs, "Listen to those who actually care about you."

"Like who?" I tease, stroking her thigh.

"Oh, fuck you." She yawns, "I'm sleepy. Not tonight."

I laugh. As much as I would like to tear our clothes apart and bury myself inside her, she's right. Even I'm getting sleepy.

"And just because someone said something doesn't make it necessarily true." She says and kisses my cheek. "I know it's easy to talk about all of this and much more difficult to actually implement it, you have to try."

Her hair fan her face, and I stroke them away as I plant a kiss on her head. There she is. My paramour. Capable of understanding me.

I keep her hand on my heart, wishing that she'd be able to feel what I cannot say. Feel what runs through my veins, feel that every single beat of my heart calls her name.

She's right. As much as I still feel like an oddball, I feel different with Sarah. With her in my arms, I feel like I'm home. I feel that I fit in, in her company. In her arms. In her life.

Hi! Do you have a masterlist for "Derek Hale x Sarah McCall" stories ?

I have made one but haven't posted it yet, it will be posted soon, thanks!

I'm Not Yours

Derek Hale x Sarah McCall

Timeline: In S2E4, when Derek is training his betas, one of them tries to kiss him.

Derek's POV -

Isaac barrels towards me with a vicious look on his face. I stare at him, unfazed. Like that can scare me. He leaps at me but I push him out of the way effortlessly. Sure, the momentum makes it difficult, but not difficult enough.

Erica jumps at me from above and I toss her to the ground. She's no better. In fact, she's worse. Isaac at least has the mind to know that he isn't the best, but Erica is full of overconfidence. It's going to get her in trouble someday.

Boyd looks at from above, and cringes as both the betas fall to the ground. I know their bones are broken, they must be. Guilt creeps up my spine, but I shove it down. If I'm to teach them how to protect themselves, then they must sustain a few injuries.

"Does anyone wanna try not being completely predictable?" I ask with a frown.

It is then that Erica jumps at me. But she doesn't try to attack. Instead, she wraps her legs around my waist and presses her lips to mine. Eyes widening in shock, I push her away immediately.

"Don't ever do that again," I say, fury churning through my body. My eyes flash red and I see fear in hers, but I don't care.

I don't want to be kissed by anyone who isn't Sarah.

"Why?" She asks, scared, "Because I'm a Beta?"

"No." I say, "Because I'm Not Yours." I make sure to wipe my lips, just in case her lipstick has left a mark.

Isaac groans from beside her, uninterested in what just happened. "Are we done? I got about a hundred bones that need a few hours to heal."

I bend down in front of him and break his finger, "A hundred and one."

Isaac looks at me in shock and pain, and I hiss at him. "You think I'm teaching you to fight? Huh? Look at me! I'm teaching you how to survive! So if you don't wanna die, I suggest you take this seriously."

I stalk away from them and rush to my loft after putting my jacket on. I had promised to meet Sarah there, and I don't wanna be late. I don't want to miss even a single minute I have with her. Her brother thinks that it's just him who has to do a lot just to see his girlfriend, but he's wrong.

I have to do twice as much just to catch a glimpse of Sarah.

She waits at me at the loft, her long hair flowing behind her because of the wind.

"Angel..." I say. It's one of the few nicknames I have for her, another main one being 'honey'. She turns around and looks at me. Joy fills her eyes and she rushes towards me, throwing her arms around me. She doesn't care that I smell like tar and dirt, doesn't care that the dirt is all over my clothes and face.

I wrap my arms around her, breathing in the scent of her sweet-smelling hair. I kiss her cheek and all the emotions I've bottled down almost spill out. No, I can't let that happen. I have to stay strong for her.

She steps back and looks at me with tearful eyes. I pull her towards me and kiss her deeply, savouring the flavour and taste of her soft lips. She opens her mouth and I slip my tongue inside, exploring her mouth. She tastes like the sweet fruit at the end of countless hardships.

Sarah tastes like mine. There's not a lot I can call mine, but Sarah is mine. And I'll be damned to let anyone hurt her or take her away from me.

And the moan she gives makes me wanna carry her inside and show her just that.

But I have to keep the lust in control since I'd rather talk to her and hold her in my arms in those few stolen moments we have together than have sex with her.

I draw my head to let her catch her breath. I can go on for longer, werewolf lungs and all. But she's human. My human.

I caress her cheek gently and press a kiss to her forehead. "I've missed you, my Angel."

"I've missed you too, Sourwolf." She sniffs.

"Come on," I say, "Let's go inside."

She slips her hand in mine and we walk inside the loft. Sarah beams at the simple arrangement of the place and looks at me. "I've missed coming here."

"I know, I'm sorry," I say ruefully. The loft has not been the same without her. After we got together officially, Sarah used to hang out at the loft frequently. At one point, she was living with me. Those were the best days of my life. Just being with her, inside her and spending time in her presence gave me more happiness than anything else.

But then Gerard Argent showed up along with his pack of Hunters. I turned Isaac and Erica, and Sarah's brother started to hate me. I don't care, Scott's a child. He'll understand the ways of the world after growing up.

But unknowingly, that caused a rift between me and Sarah. It was too unsafe for her to be with me, with hunters prowling around and an unknown beast to add to the list. I know how low Gerard can sink, he can threaten and hurt Sarah just to get to me.

I once had a thought of breaking up with her for her own safety, but she had said to me "I'll carve your heart out with a scalpel and keep it as a prized possession if you ever do that." And that had led to a passionate make-out session.

"Derek..." Sarah's voice makes me look at her. But she isn't looking at me, she's staring at my jacket. "Why do you smell like women's perfume?"

Aah, that is Erica's fault. "Oh, it's nothing. I was going to tell you." I begin casually, but she looks anything but casual. Sarah's glaring at me like she never has before, and I gulp. "Angel, believe me, it's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" She hisses viciously, and at that moment, I can't help but admire how strong and confident she looks.

Right, back to the point.

I explain everything to her, starting from training to the point where Erica kissed me, and at the end, Sarah looks like she could commit first-degree murder. "I pushed her away immediately," I say, desperation clawing at my insides. Will she believe me?

Sarah glares at me. Then, she looks at her feet with a sigh. "Do you like her, Derek?"

"No!" I exclaim, aghast. "Honey, she's my beta, and she's also underage. I don't like her. I don't like anyone but you."

She doesn't look at me. "It's fine, Derek. If you don't like me anymore. I get it. It's been a hard couple of months. And I understand if you wanna be with me. Maybe a werewolf will be better for you."

"Sarah," I ball my hand into a fist. "Look at me."

She doesn't budge, and I gently lift her chin up. Her warm, chocolate eyes meet my werewolf red. She looks a bit frightened, and I wrap my arm around her, pulling her hard against me.

"Look at me, Angel." I growl, "You're the only one I like, the only one I want. So don't even think for a second that I'll look at anyone else the way I look at you."

"I'm sorry," She says and my eyes go back to the usual green. "It's been so hard recently, so I thought that you'd give up and...." She looks at me worriedly, "Start looking for someone else."

"Sarah," I say calmly, "It's been very hard, yes. But I'm not giving up on you. On us. It's you for me, Angel."

Sarah gives me a shaky smile, and I continue, "And as for Erica, I pushed her away immediately and warned her to not do that again. You know why?"

She looks at me expectantly and I kiss her softly. "Because I'm not hers, Angel. I'm yours."

Masterlist

Derek Hale x Sarah McCall Masterlist

Summary - These are one shots of Derek Hale/Original Female Character(Sarah McCall, who's Scott's older sister)

NOTE - These don't need to be read in any order. Choose any one you want, it does not follow the chronological order of the Teen Wolf series. I'll add a summary wherever it's required. Thanks!

The First Meet

Rescuing Him

Are You Still Here?

The Piece That Doesn't Fit

Headcanons

I'm Not Yours

The Big Sister

The Big Sister

Derek Hale x Sarah McCall

Timeline: In S4, when Scott bites Liam Dunbar. Scott doesn't know how to calm Liam down and explain to him what just happened, so he takes him to the calmest and most sane person he knows. His sister.

Sarah's POV -

The hospital's rarely so quiet and calm at this hour. I don't remember a day where there was no crowd at 5 pm, which falls between the visiting hours. Yes, I joined as a nurse at the hospital because Stiles, while being possessed by the nogitsune, burned down my pharmacy.

He insists on paying for it, but they're already in a lot of debt. So I refused. But I do want to get it back up someday. When I have enough money. And enough time.

Surprisingly, I like it at the hospital. There's something soothing and enriching about helping someone heal and get better, though the medicines usually ruin a different part of your body than what they are supposed to fix.

Sipping coffee, I turn to the next page of the book I'm reading. Who knew I'd like to read about elves and wizards? But this book is good. Maybe I'll ask Derek to read it too.

I'm so engrossed in my book that I don't realise when someone stands in front of me at the reception. I don't look up, Mom will handle it.

"What are you doing here?" Mom asks from beside me and that makes me look up.

My brother, Stiles, Derek and a boy I don't recognise stand in front of me. They're not looking at Mom, they're looking at me. The boy looks agitated and angry. He looks like he can break something.

"Hey CeeCee," Scott gives me a smile, "Got a moment?"

"Allow me to brace myself," I say and close the book. "What do you want?" I ask after standing in front of him.

"Not here, Angel." Derek whispers in my ear after wrapping his arm around my waist, "Somewhere private."

I look at him curiously. "Der, what is it?"

Derek doesn't reply, just looks around suspiciously and gives me a wry look.

Right. Privacy.

I lead them to an empty supply room and lock the door behind me. The boys stand behind me, looking at the stranger.

"Right. What's going on?" I ask my brother.

"CeeCee, this is Liam Dunbar," Scott says, pointing to the stranger. I give him a nod and reach out my hand for him to shake. "Sarah McCall, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too." He replies politely, shaking my hand.

"You might wanna maintain distance." Stiles whispers in my ear, "He's explosive." I give him a confused look and step back.

Derek wraps a protective arm around my waist and pulls me towards him. He's not being subtle. Derek is always protective over me, but he's just a teenage boy. I can feel his claws on my shirt. I look at Liam curiously, and then it dawns on me. He must be a werewolf.

"So, Sarah." Scott begins, and Liam glares at him ferociously. That's when I know something is wrong. Scott avoids calling me by my real name, he always calls me CeeCee.

"There was a Wendigo attack-"

"Scott bit Liam."

My mouth hangs open as Stiles interrupts my brother. "What?" I look at my brother, shocked, "Why?"

"I'll explain," Scott says, scowling at Stiles, who closes his mouth. "There was a Wendigo attack here, right? Liam was at the hospital at that time."

"Oh, yes," I murmur. I've never seen Liam before, but Mom had mentioned a boy who had broken his arm or something. "What about that?"

"So the Wendigo grabbed Liam and took him on the roof. Luckily, I reached there and tried to fight him. But the Wendigo threw Liam over the edge. Liam held on just by his fingertips and I couldn't go help him because the Wendigo was holding me back. So I er..I had to use the only option I had. I had to bite him." Scott explains and sighs.

I blink, trying to digest the information. I gulp and turn to Liam. "Oh. Hi."

"Yeah, hi." He says wearily.

"So, why is he here?" I ask Scott, who replies, "We..er...we haven't...he doesn't..."

"He's an explosive grenade, and doesn't know what has happened to him, and what is going to happen to him because of what had happened to him and he also..kind of hates us." Stiles jumps in, "It'd be better if you talk to him, CeeCee."

"Er..sure." I say and whisper in his ear, "Why me?"

"You're nice, and calm and kind. He can do with kind." Scott says.

"Especially after you kidnapped me." Liam shoots at him.

I look at Scott, alarmed. "You kidnapped him?"

"To keep him safe." He says hastily. I'm about to retort but Derek says, "Point is, Angel, we need you to talk to him. Explain things to him before he wrecks the town on the next full moon."

"Let me guess, did you give him the 'we're brothers now' talk?" I turn to Scott, suppressing a giggle. Scott blushes and I look at Derek, "I remember the time you tried to tell that to Scotty, and it did not go well."

"I didn't have you at the time, now I do." He says lovingly.

I kiss him softly and then turn to Liam. "Alright kid. Let's talk."

I ask Mom for permission to use an empty room, and she grants it immediately, knowing the severity of the situation. Mom is great at picking up hints.

I lock the door behind me and turn to look at Liam, who sits awkwardly on the bed. I pull up a chair to sit in front of him. "Make yourself comfortable. Trust me, I'm not gonna do anything to you."

"It's difficult to trust you since it was your brother who bit me." Liam snaps, and I look at him with mild shock. "Hmm, now I see why Stiles called you a grenade. Tell me, Dunbar. What else is it? How do you get so angry easily?"

"What are you? A doctor?" He questions, ignoring what I said.

"No." I say, "Do I look like one?"

"Then what are you?" He bends forward, glaring at me threateningly.

"Kid," I say with a raised eyebrow, "Don't try to threaten me. My brother and my boyfriend are standing right outside and they can hear every word of our conversation. If Derek catches even a whiff of you trying to hurt me, you won't be alive to see the next full moon. And I don't want you to die. So I suggest we do this calmly."

Liam sits back and huffs. "Fine. Now will you tell me what's going on?"

"I will." I say, "After you tell me what's going on with you. You're aggressive, get angry easily. Why? What do you have?"

"IED." He says dejectedly.

Oh. Oh. Out of everyone my brother had to choose as a beta, he chose one with who had frequent anger outbursts.

I start to feel bad for Liam Dunbar. The whole werewolf ordeal is going to be tougher for him since he's much more prone to anger and aggression.

"I see," I say. My voice is even, I don't want him to know that I feel bad for him. I'm not sure if he'll appreciate pity. Best to not assume. Besides, he'll feel safe enough to open up if I talk to him with a neutral tone and perspective.

I brace myself. "You need to be calm for what I'm about to tell you."

Liam looks at me wordlessly. I can't put a word on how he's feeling or what he's thinking, so I continue. "Liam, you're a werewolf."

His eyes go wide for a second, shock covering his face. Then, he bursts out laughing. "Are you serious?" He chokes out, "Out of everything, I hadn't expected this. A werewolf? Seriously, Miss McCall? What do you think I am? A nutjob?"

"Liam, I'm not kidding." I say seriously. "Did you not see Scott's face when he bit you?"

He stops laughing. His face turns grim suddenly, all humour fading. He doesn't say anything, but by the look in his eyes, I know he remembers.

"Liam, I know this sounds ridiculous, believe me it was to me as well but - this is all real." I say softly, "My brother's a werewolf, and so are you now."

He panics, and though I'm not a werewolf, I can see that his heart rate has picked up. Looking at me frantically, "Wait...what?" He sputters, "What? You can't be serious!"

"I'm sorry," I say, not letting my voice waver. I look at him kindly, "But I am."

"Well then, what do I do?" He exclaims, "How can I turn back into a normal person? How can I undo it?"

"You can't," I say, bracing myself. I feel too bad for him. For a second, I don't see Liam. I see Scott. Scott, when he had been bitten and was learning how to control. Scott, when he was so frustrated at everything. Scott, couldn't be with the girl he loved and was failing in class because of something he didn't do.

"What do you - what do you mean by that?" He asks. His voice is shaking, he's trying his best to not get angry. But his efforts are unsuccessful.

"Liam, you can't go back to being a human again. You are a werewolf, and there's nothing you can do about that. I'm sorry." I say, and wish it didn't sound heartless. God, I sound like a manipulative bitch here.

"THE HELL I CAN'T!" He snarls, standing up. My heartbeat quickens, but I try to stay calm. "Don't get in here." I whisper, hoping that Derek and Scott outside can hear. "I'll handle it."

"YOUR BROTHER DID THIS TO ME!" He thundered, "I'M AN ANIMAL! A FUCKING ABOMINATION BECAUSE OF HIM!"

"Liam, if Scott hadn't bit you, you would've been dead," I say, looking into his glowing yellow eyes. "Would you rather prefer death over being a werewolf?"

"That's the thing!" He snaps and starts prowling around the room. "I don't even know what being a 'werewolf' means. How am I supposed to live this?"

"That's why I'm here." I say with a small smile, "To help you."

He sits in front of me again, "Are you a werewolf too?"

"No."

"What are you?"

"Human."

"Then why are you talking to me?" He asks, "Why are you risking it?"

I sigh. "Because you remind me of someone, and I wasn't able to help him a lot. He suffered, and I don't want you to follow in his footsteps. That's why I'm 'risking it'."

"Alright. I'm not gonna ask you to elaborate." He states and I smirk, "Good, because I'm not going to elaborate either."

"So tell me." He leans back and looks at my grugdingly. "What does it mean to be a werewolf? Even when you don't have first-hand experience."

"As you might know from fairytales and fantasy stories," I begin, "You're half wolf, half human. This ensures that you have heightened senses, like you can hear my heartbeat and you can also smell all of the sanitisers in this hospital. You also have the strength and speed of a wolf, you're much stronger than a normal human being. Faster, too."

He looks at me curiously. "Go on."

"You'll heal fast. Like, very fast. If I were to stab you right now, you'd magically heal and your wound will disappear within seconds, depending on how deep it is." I add, and he looks at me in wonder. Yeah, he's liking this.

"You'll never fall sick, your immunity is just too strong for that." I say, "And you'll also look better."

He grins and I smile. "It is true."

"You're not immortal. You're gonna age, but very slowly." I say, "And now let me dissolve a myth, which I also believed before my brother was turned into a werewolf."

"The thing is, you're not gonna turn into an actual wolf on full moon nights." I say carefully, "But your claws - which you have by the way - will come out, there'll be hair on your face - don't ask me why - your face will change...sorta. And you will be rabid. You will get angry, you will become a wild animal, basically. And you can kill someone."

Liam stares at me, open-mouthed. I gulp, this was not the best way to explain things to him. I let out a string of curses in my mind. This shouldn't have played out the way it did.

"Unless you learn how to control." I say quickly, before guilt overwhelms him.

"How do I learn how to control?" He asks, his eyes glassy. My heart clenches.

"You've to find an anchor." I say and keep a hand on his wrist. He's looking down, and a tear falls onto my hand. "Liam," I say, "Look at me."

He looks up slowly, "Am I going to kill someone?"

"Not if you learn how to control." I say. "To control yourself, to not shift into that primal, animal part of you, you need to have an anchor. Someone who will bind you to your human side. Or something, it'll do too."

He looks confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that-" I click my tongue, "See, an anchor is something - or someone - for whom or for which you will want to be human. An anchor pulls you towards your human side."

"Who's Scott's anchor?" He asks and I say shortly. "Himself." I don't want to spill the details of his and Allison's rollercoaster of a romance.

"Who's Derek's anchor?" He asks and I try not to blush. "Me."

Liam looks away, embarassed. "Sorry. Shouldn't have asked."

"It's okay." I say, clearing my throat.

"So...I need to get a girlfriend?" He asks, clearly confused.

I lean backwards and look at the ceiling. "No. It doesn't have to be a girlfriend." I say thoughtfully. An idea pops into my head and I look at him, "Imagine it this way. When you shift - that is, when you have claws and facial hair and all - you're gonna feel very powerful, very strong and very angry. You're gonna be fearless, and disoriented. You won't have a care in the world. So, would you like to come back to your human side after that?"

"I don't wanna kill anyone." He says uneasily and my heart softens. He's more like Scott than what I had imagined.

"That's great." I say, "So, an anchor needs to be someone who you think of - someone for whom you will abandon being that creature because you know you will hurt them, someone whose thoughts can help you shift back to your human side. It doesn't have to be a girlfriend, can be a parent, or a friend or whatever."

"So that's it? Find an anchor and you'll be fine?" He asks hopefully. I nod, "You should be. But it's not gonna be easy. Sometimes, you chase your anchor. Go towards them, because they're the only one who make you feel better. But you can harm them. Instead, you should go away from them."

"Okay, okay, wait-" He says, "So...how do I not kill someone on the next full moon?"

"You're gonna have to be tied up," I say matter-of-factly.

"TIED UP?" He yells, astonished.

"So that when you turn, you won't roam around rampant trying to kill someone." I say, "Look, Liam, it happens to everybody. You'll learn to control yourself, but it will take time."

"How much time?"

"Depends on how well you control yourself."

"What do you mean by controlling myself?" He asks thoughtfully, "Like..not going rabid?"

"Yep." I reply, liking the fact that he's finally getting it. "Controlling yourself means controlling how much you let the primal instinct inside you affect you. It means controlling how much your own anger, rage and animalistic character affects you. Basically, it means that you have to try your best to remain as calm as possible. And that can be done with the help of an anchor."

Liam falls silent. He's trying to register everything, to understand it all. I give him that time. He deserves it.

After a while, he says. "Thank you."

I smile, "For what?" Though I already know the answer.

"For explaining everything to me. And for...you know...dealing with my anger." He says uncomfortably. I lean forward and keep my hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It's fine. You're new to all of this. I get it."

He nods and I ask, "So are you ready to go outside?" He nods again and we get up. But before we can leave, Liam keeps a hand on my elbow and says, "And thank you, once again, for being like my big sister."

Masterlist

how you get the girl | d.h.

summary: it's been six months since derek stopped replying to your texts, so why was he suddenly standing in front of your door?

pairing: derek hale x reader, nickname "brooklyn"

word count: 3,2k

warnings: cursing

author's note: hello hello and welcome to the first fic of series inspired by taylor swift's 1989! we're starting off strong with how you get the girl. all the fics a part of this series are connected, but it's not necessary to read all of them to understand the plot though it is recommended by me. also i think you should know that i have adopted a way of avoiding the use of Y/N by giving my readers a nickname (courtesy of the top gun fandom) which is brooklyn/b. hope it's okay!! tagging @stilinskiderek bc i know she's been waiting for this. title is from taylor swift's how you get the girl

You had almost missed the tentative knocks on your front door with the endless rain pelting against your roof and all your windows, until the knocks became louder and more incessant. “I’m coming!” you shouted, wrapping your cardigan tighter around your frame as you padded to the front door. As you swung it open, you had to stop yourself from slamming the door shut again when you saw who was standing on your front porch. Derek lifted his head, his hair wet and stuck against his skin. If you hadn’t known that werewolves were basically a walking furnace, you’d guess he was shaking from the cold rain and invite him in. But alas, he probably wasn’t even cold and there was also the thing where you were super mad at him.

“Are you insane?”

Derek blinked at you and then had the audacity to give you a small smile. “Hey. It’s been a while, huh?”

Really? Six months of radio silence and that was the thing he decided to open with? You let out a sigh of disbelief and moved to shut the door in his face, before Derek put his foot in the gap, his hand pushing it back open.

“Wait, wait! I’m sorry!”

Reluctantly, you slowly pulled the door open again, glaring at him.

“What do you want?”

Derek gestured inside your house, small rain droplets flinging from his sleeve.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Can you give me a reason to?”

Your eyes were hard and Derek realized how serious you were being. He sighed softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I can explain, okay? Can you just let me in? Please?”

Contemplating, you were quiet for a second before you opened the door wider for him to come in.

“Stay. I’ll get you a towel, don’t need you to track your muddy paws into my house,” you said, heading to your closet to grab him a towel. You knew the dog jokes were a low blow but you didn’t really care. Grabbing a spare towel from the shelf, you returned to Derek who apparently had taken his shoes off. His jacket was hanging off a coat rack and he was standing by the dresser, holding a picture frame. You knew exactly what picture it was. Instead of trying to find an excuse you tossed the towel at him, fully intending to sock him in the face with it, but he was still a werewolf, catching it easily with one hand. He put the picture back and dried himself off.

“Thanks.”

You forwent an answer and instead picked up the picture frame, putting it in the back; the image of you kissing Derek on the cheek being obscured by pictures of Isaac, Kira and Stiles. You could feel Derek’s eyes on you, but when you turned back to him, he was hanging his jacket on the coat rack, the towel around his neck.

Giving him a brief once over, you noticed that he looked good. Well-nourished and healthy. At least he wasn’t being held in some rotten basement. But that meant he didn’t really have an excuse for why he ghosted you.

“How long have you been in town?”

“Just got in. I just checked into the loft before I came here,” Derek said, toweling his hair dry with a frown.

“What, didn’t you have to announce your presence to the Alpha for breaching his territory?” you said, somewhat mockingly and Derek gave you a look. You just rolled your eyes at him, growing impatient.

“You said you were going to explain.”

Derek nodded, but it was clear that he was struggling to find his words. So much for that explanation.

“If you don’t have anything to say Derek, you can just leave,” you sighed, exhausted and disappointed at the same time. “That’s what you’re best at, right?”

Without waiting for an answer, you walked over to the couch, sitting down, but Derek was hot on your heels, clearly agitated.

“You knew I was trying to get Cora out of here, I was trying to keep her safe!”

“Yeah, but that was before you completely went AWOL and stopped returning my texts,” you interjected, glaring at him. “Six months, Derek. I didn’t even know if you were alive or not.”

Derek scoffed, glaring at the floor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t-” he broke off with a frustrated huff, dropping down on the arm chair across from you. “I’m sorry I made you worry. That wasn’t my intention… I wanted to text you. I did, but I didn’t now what to say or how to explain myself… When I dropped Cora off with her old pack I envied her that she was able to start new after everything that happened. And I guess seeing her so happy and burden free… It made me wonder what I wanted out of my life.”

And it apparently wasn’t you?

You crossed your arms, burrowing deeper into the couch, not really liking his explanation so far. Did he just come here to insult you and make everything worse?

“Would you let me finish explaining before you plan my demise?” Derek asked dryly and your eyes snapped up at him, realizing that he could smell the anger coming off of you. You jerked your chin, telling him to continue.

“At first I stayed with Cora for a while, thought I could settle with a new pack but I didn’t feel right. Not really.” Derek rubbed the back of his neck. “I flew back here and picked up my car, started driving. I guess I just felt free for the first time, which I didn’t mind, but I really missed you so that’s when I started writing you letters.”

Wait, what?

“Hold up,” you said, waving your hands around for good measure. “Letters? What letters? I didn’t get any letters.”

Derek stared at you for a good minute, the tips of his ears turning pink honest to god. With a small exhaled stood up, disappearing into the hallway. For a split second, you were actually scared that he’d leave again, as you scooted to the edge of the couch, ready to jump up and follow him as soon as you heard the front door shut but Derek returned, a small brown package in his hand. You allowed yourself to sink back into the couch and Derek pretended not to notice as he unwrapped the paper wrapper slowly, revealing a stack of letters. He put the stack on the coffee table, pushing it in your direction as you stared at it. It had to be about 20 letters, all addressed to you, stamped and everything, just not mailed.

Mouth agape, you looked at Derek, who was resolutely staring at the floor.

“At first I felt stupid. But then I just thought about what I would tell you if this letter was addressed to you and then it just got so much easier writing it all down.” Derek glanced at you, face guarded. “You don’t have to read them. It’s not an excuse for not texting or calling, but-”

“I’m gonna read them.”

Derek raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I mean, I don’t forgive you.” Not yet, at least. “But I will read them.”

Derek huffed out dry laugh, sounding amused. “That’s fair, I guess.” He took another deep breath. “About two months after I left, something started changing in me. I felt like I was losing my abilities, my strength. I felt weaker.”

“What? What happened?”

“I don’t know. I met up with an old pack that my mother used to know. They helped me figure out what was going on,” Derek explained and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“And? Don’t leave me hanging, what happened?”

Derek grimaced. “I think it’s better if show you.”

You had no idea what he meant, watching him intently as he got up. When he started taking off his shirt, your mouth flew open. “What the hell are you doing? Stop taking your clothes off!”

Derek glared at you, tossing his shirt on the arm chair before he disappeared behind the book shelf. You heard his belt hitting the floor and there were about a hundred thoughts racing through your head, trying to find a logical explanation for his behavior when a huge black wolf came out into the living room. Your eyes widened and instinctively you backed up against the couch, even as the wolf somehow gave you a look.

“Derek?”

The wolf flashed his eyes, a brilliant blue, the ones you loved so much on Derek, and you covered your mouth with your hand.

“Holy shit!”

The wolf, Derek, came around the couch and padded towards you, nosing his snout on your knee. You patted his head gently, fingers diving into the black fur, that was surprisingly soft. For some reason you had expected it to be hard and coarse. He let out a soft whine, pushing his head closer into your hands.

“Who’s a good doggy?”

You knew the dog jokes were so old but Stiles would’ve never forgiven you for not using this opportunity. Derek growled, snapping his teeth at you playfully before retreating behind the couch. For a second he stayed still then somehow shifted back into his human form. Wincing, you kept your eyes on his face as he walked back behind the book shelf, presumably to put his clothes back on.

“That’s insane, Derek,” you told him when he came back around, pants back on. “Your mother and Laura could turn into a wolf, too right? So, is it like a Hale gene thing, or?”

Derek shrugged, picking his shirt back up to put it on. “I don’t know. There’s not really a record of werewolves that can fully shift, but there are others who can do it. It’s unclear as to what triggers the transformation, though.” He sat back down on the arm chair, somewhat uncomfortable. Clearly he was much more open with his emotions as a wolf.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but it’s not like I can actually feel my bones changing.. I’ve always felt like I was… Incomplete. But when I fully shifted for the first time, it was so freeing. Like I finally achieved what I’ve been working towards my whole life.

“So, you finally got your life in order, huh? Got everything you want?”

Derek shifted nervously on the chair and you knew what he was struggling with. You didn’t know yet if you were going to make it easy on him.

“I called you every day.”

“I know and it took everything in me not to pick up.”

“You’ve got a lot of amends to make.”

And he did. Not only with you, there were people he hurt even before he left and you didn’t even have to say a name for Derek to know who you were talking about. He must have known as soon as he stepped into the house.

“Yeah. That is mostly also why I didn’t want to let him down again, I wanted to be able to protect him before I came back.”

Even if you could forgive Derek and take him back, you couldn’t promise it would help salvage Derek’s relationship with Isaac. Their bond was different and you didn’t want to intervene in it. It was Isaac’s decision to whether he would forgive Derek or not. You knew Derek cared a lot for Isaac, but he hurt him. It wasn’t something that Isaac could easily get past.

“I know I hurt you,” Derek started. “And I know it’s going to take a lot of work for you to trust me again not to leave. But I promise, I won’t leave again. Ever. You’re it for me, Brooklyn.”

You startled at the use of the old nickname. It has been a while since he called you that.

“I’ll wait for as long as it takes for you to trust me again. And even if we only stay friends, that’s fine with me. I’ll take you in any way you’ll have me.”

Your mouth was open, but you couldn’t find the words. While you’ve know how Derek felt for you, he had never actively said it, like you said, Derek was a man of little words.

“Are you seeing someone else?” Derek’s tone was mostly neutral, but you could tell there was an edge to it. Wolves have always been kind of jealous, and Derek wasn’t really an exception.

“Didn’t you just say you’d be fine with being friends?” You asked sharply and Derek clenched his jaw, lowering his head. You let him simmer in disappointment for a while before you sighed.

“Okay.”

Derek lifted his head, frowning at you. “Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll give you another chance.”

The smile that appeared on Derek’s face was almost worth all the pain he’d put you through for the past six months. Almost. He stood up and walked over to you, slowly, as if he was scared you’d change your mind. Lowering himself in front you, he took his hands into your, holding them tightly, but not so much that it hurt.

“If you’re gonna leave again, that’s it, Derek, you hear me?” you warned him and he nodded quickly, intently.

“I’m never leaving again.”

You huffed. annoyed, but appeased. You knew it took a lot for a born wolf to be kneeling in front of a human like this. Not that he had a higher rank than you. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I’m not,” Derek insisted. “Didn’t you hear what I said? You’re it for me. I love you.”

Rolling your eyes, you flushed. “Shut up.”

Derek opened his mouth to say something, but he tensed, stopping. You were about to ask what was wrong, when you heard the door open.

“Hey, I’m home!” Isaac called, shutting the door behind him. That explained Derek’s tense shoulders. “Shit, it’s crazy out there.”

You could hear him shaking his jacket out, cluttering in the hallway.

“Hey, why does it smell like-” Isaac’s footsteps came closer, until they stopped and you looked at him, frozen in the door way.

“Derek.”

Isaac's presence was a comfort to you, and you appreciated the way he didn't make things awkward between you and Derek. But you also knew that Isaac was hurt by Derek kicking him out, of the pack and his loft.

"You smell like wet dog," you teased Isaac, trying to lighten the mood.

Isaac grinned, "Yeah, it's been raining cats and dogs outside."

Derek cleared his throat. He squeezed your hand before he got up, walking over to his first beta. Isaac’s eyes flickered to you, but you shrugged your shoulders. It was his choice.

“I’m sorry for the way I handled things with you after- after Boyd died. I was trying to protect you and I know I went at it the wrong way. Im not sorry for trying to protect you, you’re pack. I care about you. But I should’ve done it differently,” Derek said, grimacing. He looked like he about hit his word limit of the day.

Isaac didn’t reply and you could tell he was conflicted as his hands curled into fists. You held your breath, knowing this could go either way, with Isaac being loyal to a fault and Derek was the first person gave him the chance to get away from his father.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Isaac then said, gently, and you exhaled slowly. He didn’t really acknowledge Derek’s apology, but you knew that was going to take time. This was a good start. He gave Derek a small smile, it was guarded, but it was a smile. Isaac’s eyes flitted over to you and he pointed towards his bedroom. “I'm gonna go change. I'm soaked. Can we do pizza for dinner?"

”Sure,” you agreed and Isaac bobbed his head twice, before going towards his room. When you heard his door shut, you turned to Derek, lifting a brow. “You’re lucky. Isaac has a big heart.”

Derek breathed a sigh of relief, looking at you with gratitude. "Yeah… I know I still got a long way ahead of me, but I’m glad he’s giving me another chance.”

As the rain continued to pound outside, the three of you settled in for a quiet evening of pizza and movies. Even though the three of you acted like this was just like before, it was obvious that everyone was walking on egg shells around each other. It was going to take longer before things would really get back to the way it was before.

“Hey, did you just pick the pepperoni off my pizza?!”

Or maybe not that long.

-

Dear Brooklyn,

I miss you more than words can express. It's been three months since I left and I still can't shake the feeling that I made a mistake. I am sorry for not responding to your texts and calls, but at the time, I just couldn't bring myself to talk to you. I was going through something, something that I didn't understand and I didn't want to burden you with it. But now, I realize that I should have at least told you what was going on. I'm sorry for shutting you out.

Something's happening to me, Brooklyn. I don't know what it is, but it feels like I am losing my strength. I wonder if it’s punishment from the universe for leaving you. I'm trying to figure it out, but it's difficult. I feel like I'm running out of time. I know you and Stiles would hit the books as soon as you find out about it, but I don't want to trouble you. I'm trying to get in contact with my mother's old allies to see if they can help me. That's why I'm in New York.

Being back here without you or Laura is hard. Everything reminds me of you both. I miss you so much, Brooklyn. You were always there for me, even when I didn't deserve it. And I'm sorry for hurting you. I know I have a lot of making up to do. But I promise you this, I will make it up to you. I will never leave you again.

I hope you're well and happy. How's Isaac? I know he's probably still mad at me, and I don't blame him. I messed up. But I'm glad you two have each other. Maybe you can both be mad at me together. I hope I can fix things when I come home. But even if you don't want to take me back, I'll understand. I just want to be in your life, Brooklyn.

Please take care of yourself.

Derek.

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.

Magic Bullet 1x04

Episode 5

“If Derek isn't the Alpha... if he's not the one who bit you... then who did?” Stiles questions as their teacher passes out the graded tests they all took. Fallon rubs her eyes tiredly, exhausted from how late she stayed up going to see Derek. She doesn’t necessarily regret going, but now she feels an unnatural anger towards the man. He told her to stay out of the way. It’s unbelievable. All she wants to do is help and make sure no more people die, and yet he makes it seem as though she’s the problem.

“I don’t know,” Scott answers.

Stiles sighs and sits back in his seat for the briefest moment before thinking of another question and leaning forward, gently smacking Scott in the back with the back of his right hand. “Did the Alpha kill the bus driver?”

Scott whispers, “I don’t know.”

“Yes,” Fallon answers at the same time, a small yawn escaping her lips.

The two boys turn to look at her. She’s sitting next to Stiles in the row over. She freezes, realizing she just answered a question she shouldn’t even have any context to. Stiles narrows his eyes at her, “How do you know?”

She shrugs, trying to cover it up. “Just a hunch, I guess.”

“You’re lying,” Scott furrows his eyebrows. “I just heard your heart beat. It went up. How do you know?” He reiterates the question.

The brunette sighs. There’s no point in keeping it a secret, “I saw Derek last night…” she admits. “After the bus driver died, I wanted to know what was going on. So I went to hear it from him.”

“Are you stupid?!” Stiles scoffs, throwing his pencil at her. “What if he killed you, huh? Then what?”

“Well, I’m sitting right next to you so, I wouldn’t know,” she replies sarcastically.

“You shouldn’t have gone alone,” Scott scolds.

“You did,” Fallon points out incredulously, baffled by his hypocrisy.

“But I can protect myself in ways that you can’t,” he insists.

“Y’know I’m getting real tired of everyone assuming Stiles and I are useless just because we don’t have magical werewolf abilities,” she glares at him.

“I never said you were useless.”

“Okay!” Stiles whisper yells, stopping the argument from moving forward. “Moving on…” he turns his attention back to Scott. “Does Allison’s dad know about the Alpha?”

Scott, feeling overwhelmed by the mini argument with Fallon, along with the incessant questions from Stiles, loses his temper. “I don’t know!” He replies in a loud voice causing the teacher and pretty much every student in the class to look back at the three of them. He tries to play it off by looking out the window while Stiles sinks down into his chair. Fallon simply smiles fakely at the onlookers who turn away from the awkward situation.

Stiles is handed back his test first out of the three and is satisfied by the "A" he received. Fallon gets hers next, a small smirk on her face as she reads “A+” with a one-hundred percent written next to it. However, Scott sighs loudly when he's handed his, which has a “D-” written on it, Stiles leans forward to look at it and mutters sarcastically over Scott's shoulder, “Dude, you need to study more!”

Scott slams his test down on the desk, shooting Stiles a menacing glare. Stiles scoffs defensively, pushing himself away from Scott. “That was a joke, Scott,” he explains. “It’s one test! You’re gonna make it up. Do you want help studying?”

“Yeah, we can meet at my place tonight if you want,” Fallon suggests kindly, despite their previous argument. “We can make our own personalized pizza’s and stuff.”

Scott sighs, “No, I’m studying with Allison after school today.”

Stiles grins suggestively and pats Scott on the back proudly, “That’s my boy!”

Fallon rolls her eyes, kicking Stiles from across the way. “I said it once, and I’ll say it again. Boundaries.”

Scott nods along with Fallon, sending Stiles a pointed look, “We’re just studying.”

“Uh, no, you’re not,” Stiles scoffs, rubbing his shin where the angry brunette just kicked it.

Scott frowns in confusion, “No, I’m not?”

Stiles rolls his eyes in exasperation as though it’s obvious to what he’s referring to. “Not if I’m forced to live vicariously through you!” He exclaims. “If you go over to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity, I swear to God, I’ll have you de-balled.”

“You seriously need to get laid,” Fallon says to Stiles, taking out her book and burying her nose in it. Their teacher gave them the rest of the period off to do homework anyway.

“I’m well aware of that, thank you,” he replies as if what he said is a good comeback.

“Okay,” Scott looks at them with annoyed eyes. “Just... stop with the questions.”

Stiles nods with a grin, “Done. No more questions. No more talk about the Alpha, or Derek…” he trails off, his eyes going unfocused as he remembers the intimidating man. No doubt recalling their last interaction in the back of the police cruiser. “Especially Derek… who still scares me…”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon makes her way over to the girls locker room after the last bell of the day. She likes being able to change in her own space for lacrosse practice because no one’s ever in here after school. The only time she usually has to share is with the off season soccer girls who only use it to get ready for training. The brunette walks over to one of the stalls, using the restroom before changing into her gear. She still has a headphone in, listening to her playlist to keep her mind occupied. She flushes the toilet before exiting the bathroom and washing her hands. She hums under her breath, watching as the water trickles down her skin.

“Holy shit!” She screams loudly when she looks into the mirror and sees a pale, almost dead looking Derek Hale standing behind her. He sways back and forth on his feet, his blue eyes looking more gray by the second. That’s when she notices the gaping bullet hole in his arm. Derek stumbles, almost falling to the floor, but Fallon rushes forward, wrapping his arm around her shoulder to hold him up. He’s a lot heavier than she thought. “What happened?” She asks, her voice laced with concern.

He grunts in pain, squeezing his eyes shut. “I was shot,” he manages to get out. Blood drips down his arm and off of his fingertips, leaking onto her shoes. She grimaces, but knows that her shoes are not the priority right now.

“I’m sorry, you got what?!” Her eyes widen as she moves frantically to have him sit down on one of the benches in the locker room. “By who?” She runs over to her locker, grabbing a spare shirt and a pair of scissors from her backpack. Her father’s words come into mind on how to take care of a gunshot wound. She cuts a long piece of fabric out of the material before going back over to Derek and creating a makeshift tourniquet. “By the way, this is gonna hurt, so brace yourself.”

“Wha–?” He lets out a low growl as she ties it as tightly as she can. The bleeding slowly slightly, but the wound still looks nasty. His eyes flash a bright blue for a moment before turning back to their normal color.

“Why aren't you healing?” She asks, looking over his form. A wound this small should’ve been nothing for the werewolf.

“I can’t,” he groans in pain. “It wasn’t a normal bullet. It’s different.”

“Like wolfsbane different?” She asks worriedly, remembering the different things she read in the book Stiles gave her.

Derek looks surprised by her second question, impressed by her knowledge. His head lulls forward and onto her shoulder, “Wolfsbane,” his voice turns into a whisper. “Need to find Scott. Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Fallon answers, lifting him off the bench with a grunt. “We don’t have the same last class.” She manages to get them over to the door and out into the hallway. She eyes him sadly, trying her hardest to get him outside. Her arm wraps around his waist as another method to keep him up and secure. He’s trying to help hold his own body weight, but it’s no use. He’s fading, and fast. “C’mon Derek, stay with me,” she mumbles.

They barrel out of the exit doors and Fallon stops, looking over all the heads of the students to try and find Scott. She huffs as the line of cars is long and completely backed up. There’s no way she can get him anywhere safely on her bike, but her eyes brighten when she notices the blue Jeep sitting at the front of the masses of cars.

“Okay, I’m not seeing Scott, but Stiles is right there,” she assures him, starting to drag his limp body over to the vehicle.

“No. Absolutely not,” Derek denies, trying not to go in the direction Fallon’s forcing him in. “I don’t want help from your spaz head of a boyfriend.”

Fallon sighs, rolling her eyes as she continues hauling him. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she corrects. “And unless you wanna brave it out on my motorcycle, this is the best option.”

Derek doesn’t have time to protest as Fallon stops them right in front of Stiles’ car. She puts her hand up to stop him from going and her best friend slams on his breaks. He throws his hands up in annoyance, mumbling something under his breath as he moves to get out of the car. Horns blare from every direction and that’s when Fallon feels Derek start swaying again. “No, no, no, no, don’t fall! Derek, don’t fall!”

“I’m falling,” he whispers. His body starts leaning backwards, too far backwards for Fallon to keep up. She tries to use one last surge of strength to force him up, but it’s too late. His body's stature is no match for her. They fall into the asphalt with a loud thump. Both of them groan in pain and Fallon gets up, lifting his head to put on her legs so he has some way of sitting up.

Scott apparently saw the whole ordeal from the bike rack. He rushes over to Stiles’ jeep where his two best friends are taking care of Derek. Stiles is clearly the most pissed one out of the three of them, peeved Derek stopped him from going to play video games.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asks, blocking Derek’s view from the agitated students. They don’t need to see a dying werewolf in the middle of the school parking lot.

He tries to move himself away from Fallon’s lap, but his limbs are all too limp to get very far. “I was shot,” he gasps out, pointing to the hole in his arm.

“He’s not looking so good, dude,” Stiles looks at him warily.

“I wonder why,” Fallon says sarcastically.

“Okay, you know what? Now is not the time,” Stiles narrows his eyes at her.

Scott frowns in confusion, inspecting the injury. “Why aren’t you healing?” He asks the same question Fallon did

“I can’t,” he huffs tiredly, giving up and collapsing fully into Fallon. Blood seeps from his arm and into her blue jeans and she has to look up in the sky to prevent herself from being disappointed at her now stained clothing. “It was- it was a different kind of bullet.” He repeats the same story he gave to Fallon.

Stiles perks up, all of his supernatural dreams coming true. “A silver bullet?”

“No, you idiot,” Derek snaps irritatedly.

Scott looks as if he just put together something super important, “Wait, wait– that's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours…”

Derek’s eyes widen in alarm, “What? Who-who said forty-eight hours?”

“The one who shot you,” Scott answers.

Suddenly, Derek is hit with a powerful wave of pain that causes his eyes to flash bright blue, the same way they did when Fallon put the tourniquet on him. He grimaces in agony. When he opens his eyes again, they're continuing to flash back and forth between his werewolf blue eyes and his human green eyes. Scott looks horrified, his eyes darting around to make sure no one is watching before he mutters at Derek forcefully, “What are you doing? Stop that!”

“Scott, I don’t think he can,” Fallon whispers urgently. “He can’t control it.”

The boy looks at Derek, placing his hands on his shoulders, “Derek, get up.”

The line of cars start to get more impatient. As soon as they see people starting to get out of their vehicles to approach them, they realize that they need to get out of there. Now. Scott pulls Derek to his feet, the man wobbling from the sudden force. He latches onto Fallon once more, the brunette grunts but wraps her arms around his midsection anyway to keep him steady. Once she was sure they could move without collapsing again, she got him inside of Stiles’ jeep, placing him gently in the passenger seat. She huffs, realizing she’ll have to leave her bike here, but there’s no way she’s going to let Stiles handle Derek in the jeep alone. He’ll just have to take her back for her motorcycle later.

Fallon sits comfortably in the back, Stiles getting into the driver’s side. Derek sticks his head out the window, “I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used.”

Scott scoffs, “How the hell am I supposed to do that?” He asks, throwing his arms up.

“Because she’s an Argent,” he says. “She’s with them.”

Scott narrows his eyes, “Why should I help you?”

Fallon looks at him with an exasperated expression. Now is not the time for vendetta’s or looking for reasons to help someone. She sends her friend a begging look, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Because, you need me,” Derek answers in a weak voice.

Scott looks over and sees a confused Allison walking toward them and decides to wrap up this scene as quickly as possible, “Fine,” he sighs. “ I'll try.” Scott turns to look at Stiles, who's expression makes it clear that he's feeling very put-out at the moment. “Hey, get him out of here.

Stiles shoots Scott a death-glare, “I hate you for this, so much.” Stiles puts the car into drive and sets off just as Allison comes up. They’re speeding out of the parking lot, happy to get away from the angry crowd that started forming around them.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Stiles drives the injured wolf and Fallon in his jeep. There’s a tense silence surrounding them, Derek grunting in pain while Stiles shoots him angry side glances. Fallon taps her foot impatiently as she stares at her text message thread with Scott. She has to have texted him at least eight times in the past twenty minutes. She doesn’t mean to rush, but this situation seems pretty dire. Like go there, find it, make up an excuse and leave kind of situation. Not go have a whole dinner with her family.

“What the hell is taking him so long?” Fallon grumbles, tossing her phone to the seat next to her. Her frustration is evident which only gets worse when Stiles smirks at her through the rear view mirror.

“Maybe he’s busy…” he wiggles his eyebrows. “Y’know gettin’ busy.”

Fallon cringes at the innuendo, “Are you serious right now?” She scolds him.

“Stop talking,” Derek seethes, closing his eyes tightly. They stopped flashing between blue and green which is a good sign, but the low growl in his voice is enough to make her sink back into her seat.

“I’m just saying,” Stiles defends himself. “Maybe he hasn’t done anything because he’s having fun. Which is what we should be doing rather than lugging dead wolf meat around,” he chides. That stupid smile appears on his face again, “I mean, I could totally see him and Allison–”

“Stop!” Derek shouts at the spastic boy, dangerously close to striking him in the back of the head.

“Okay, you don’t need to be yelling,” Fallon directs at Derek, staring at him through the mirror. “So why don’t you stop talking and sit there squirming in pain.”

He looks back at her, fury in his irises. “Shut up.”

“Hey, you need us a hell of a lot more than we need you,” Fallon narrows her eyes. “You came to me to save your ass, remember that? You’re the one bleeding out.”

Stiles nods, “Yeah, and uh speaking of that, try not to get it all over my seats, kay? We’re almost there anyway.”

“Almost where?” Derek hisses, turning his attention away from the brunette in the back. His hand is still covering the wound, blood slowly seeping onto his fingers. The tourniquet is still doing its job of slowing down the bleeding, but judging by his half-lidded eyes, it’s not going to do any good for much longer.

“Your house,” Stiles says, his voice calmer than it was a second ago. He slows to a stop when the traffic light ahead turns red. There’s no one else on the road with them which makes having Derek in the car less difficult. No one to explain their actions to.

“What?” Derek’s head snaps over the boy. “No, you can’t take me there.”

Stiles looks at him incredulously, “I can’t take you to your own house?”

“Not when I can’t protect myself!” Derek argues.

Stiles huffs angrily before turning his wheel roughly. He pulls off to the side of the road, turning off the jeep as he faces Derek fully, his nostrils flaring. “All right. What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?”

“Not yet,” Derek shakes his head.

“I’d really prefer it if you didn’t,” Fallon mumbles.

“I have a last resort,” he reveals, groaning loudly when another wave of pain hits him.

“What do you mean? What last resort?” Stiles yells.

Derek pulls his sleeve up fully, exposing the wound in all its glory. Fallon hadn’t seen the whole thing, only what his ripped shirt permitted. Stiles flinches violently from the sight while gagging, “Oh, my God. What is that?” He averts his gaze, looking out the window. “Oh, is that contagious?” He gasps. “You know what, you should probably just get out.”

“Stiles start the damn car!” Fallon yells at him. “He’s dying, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t need you making a bigger deal of it.”

“Listen to your girlfriend,” Derek adds menacingly.

“Again, not dating,” she points between her and Stiles.

“Hey! Alright, I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay? In fact, I think, if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little Werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead.”

Silence.

“Start the car… or I’m gonna rip your throat out… with my teeth,” Derek growls menacingly.

The two boys stare at each other for a solid minute or so before Stiles finally reaches for the keys, sliding them into the ignition. Fallon exhales softly, melting into her seat as she thanks whatever force out there stopped a fight between Stiles and a man twice his size.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon bites her nails anxiously as she and Scott text back and forth. Derek’s not looking too good, Scott. Have you found anything?

His response comes back short. Need more time. She puffs out an irritated breath. That’s the only response she’s gotten from him in about two and a half hours. The sun is already set and it’s starting to become dark out. The sky was an ombré of red, orange, yellow, and blue as the night approaches. Fallon feels terrible for Stiles and the fact he had a full tank before this fiasco started. They’ve been driving around all day. They had no idea where to take Derek. Stiles’ house was obviously a no go as his dad is the sheriff and would probably lose his mind if he found out Derek had been there. They can’t take him to Scott’s either as Melissa would freak out if they snuck in unannounced again.

“Why can’t we just take him to your place?” Stiles suggests.

Fallon shakes her head, “My dad’s off tonight.”

“But he’s fine with Scott and I being there all the time,” Stiles shrugs.

“Because he knows you both,” Fallon counters. “We could probably get away with it if your dad didn’t tell him about all the crime life here,” she sighs. “But he does. So my dad knows what the almost dead werewolf here looks like,” she says, eyeing up the man in the passenger seat. “And let’s just say he wouldn’t exactly be keen on having an almost murderer in his house.”

“Thanks,” Derek shoots a glare her way.

“I’m not the one who reported you to the sheriff,” she reminds him. “Your issues are with him,” she points to Stiles, “and your bestie beta who’s currently finding the magical bullet to save your life.”

“I am going to claw your eyes out if you don’t keep your mouth shut,” his eyes flash blue in her direction.

“Take my ears off while you’re at it,” she suggests sarcastically. “That way I won’t have to hear you complain about everything.”

“I’m so confused whether you like each other or not,” Stiles furrows his eyebrows.

“Not,” Derek answers while Fallon says, “It’s complicated,” at the same time.

The two passengers jerk to the side as Stiles rapidly pulls over once more. He picks up his phone too fast, almost dropping it in the process as he brings it up to his ear. “Oh thank God,” he breathes out. “Did you find anything… Well, what are we supposed to do with him?” He groans.

Fallon leans forward, gripping Stiles’ chair, “What’s he saying?”

Stiles swats her away like a mother would her child. Fallon scrunches her eyebrows, leaning back in her seat offended. “And, by the way, he’s starting to smell,” there’s a short pause. “Like death.”

Derek sends Stiles a withering glance before turning to look at Fallon, “Do I really smell like death?” He questions.

“Are you sure you want me to answer?” She snarks with a quirked brow. “Wouldn’t wanna make you claw my eyes out or anything,” she mocks his previous statement. Derek clenches his fists as he stares at her and she just smiles fakely. “And yes, you do smell like death.”

“Yeah, and they won’t stop arguing like freakin’ children. I feel like I’m running a daycare here. They got along for like the first hour and then all hell broke loose,” Stiles complains. Both Fallon and Derek resist the urge to physically harm the boy in some way. The crease in Stiles’ forehead deepens at whatever Scott says, “What about your boss?”

Stiles throws his head back into his chair before holding the phone out for Derek to take, “You’re not gonna believe where he’s asking me to take you.”

Derek ignores him, taking the chance to talk to Scott. “Did you find it?” He waits for Scott to explain what he’s been doing for the past almost three hours. “Look, if you don’t find it, then I’m dead, all right?… Then think about this-- the Alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time, either you kill with him, or you get killed. So, if you wanna stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The jeep rolls up to the animal clinic, taking one of the many empty parking spaces by the back entrance. Fallon tells Stiles to go find the key to unlock the building and that she’ll get Derek. She runs around to the passenger side, opening the door for the man. They resume their position from earlier at the school, his arm haphazardly draped over her shoulders and her arms securely fastened around his waist . She drags him towards the door, Stiles holding it open as his phone buzzes with another message from Scott.

“Please tell me he found something,” she begs, panting heavily as she goes to set him down in the back room.

Stiles furrows his eyebrows, “Maybe…” He looks up from his device to glance at Derek, “Does Northern Blue Monkshood mean anything to you?” He asks.

Derek nods, his head flopping slightly so Fallon lifts it up. “It’s a rare form of wolfsbane. He has to bring me the bullet.”

“Why?” Fallon queries as they finally reach the table. She pushes his body against it so she’s not holding him up entirely on her own.

Derek looks up at her weakly, “ ‘Cause I’m gonna die without it.”

Fallon’s heart drops into her stomach, “Crap…” she mumbles with a shaky exhale. She turns to look at Stiles, “Tell him to get here. Now.”

The threatening sound in her voice has Stiles scrambling to send Scott the message, informing him of the scary look on Fallon’s face. Derek begins tearing off hit clothing, ripping off his leather jacket smoothly before pulling his shirt with one hand over his head. He discards them by throwing them across the room before collapsing against the table once more. He lays his arm out for display, the bullet hole being a strange blue color, no doubt a reaction from the wolfsbane that’s slowly inching towards his heart. The blood dripping out of him is now black while the same color veins stretch up his arm from the wound.

Stiles bites his fist at the sight, gagging as he tries not to vomit all over the place. “Okay, you know, that really doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of,” he waves off optimistically, wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible.

Fallon smacks him, “We are not leaving him, Stiles. He’s dying.” She shuffles through Destin’s things, trying to find some sort of surgical tool. “What we should do is get the bullet fragments out and try to stitch it up.” Working in the hospital has some perks. She might not legally be allowed to perform such a procedure, but nothing about this screams concern for legality.

“That won’t work,” Derek shakes his head which stops her from looking. “It’s already in my system. When the infection reaches my heart, it’ll kill me,” he breathes out.

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Positivity just isn’t in your vocabulary, is it?” He snarks sarcastically.

“Why don’t you try being shot in the arm,” Fallon quips back at her friend.

Stiles throws his hands up with an exhausted scoff, “Who’s side are you on?! One minute you’re arguing with him and telling him to die, the next you’re yelling at me! Make up your damn mind!”

Derek rips off Fallon's tourniquet, interrupting their argument as he attempts to replace it with a blue elastic band. She watches as he goes to tie it with his mouth and stops him. He glares at her as she takes it from him, a glare which she reciprocates before helping him put it in the same spot the other was. “If Scott doesn’t get here with the bullet in time– last resort,” he pants while looking through the drawers.

“Which is what?” Fallon questions.

He pulls out a small saw making her and Stiles grow paler than him. “You’re gonna cut off my arm.”

“Me?!” Fallon shouts, about ready to go along with Stiles’ plan and run out of there.

“No,” he denies before glancing at freckles. “Stiles.”

“What?!” He screams the same way Fallon did. “No. No, no, no, no, no, that’s not fair! Why do I have to do it? She’s more heartless than I am, she can do it,” he points.

Fallon scoffs and goes to rip him a new one, but Derek cuts her off. “No, Fallon needs to hold me down.”

“Why can’t I do that?” Stiles throws his arms up.

“Because looking between the two of you, I can tell her arms won’t snap if I start to push back,” Derek insults. “I need someone with muscle to be able to keep me from squirming.”

Stiles looks more than offended, “I- I have muscle,” he counters.

Derek sends him a pointed look which makes the boy shrink in on himself. Fallon takes a nervous step forward, standing next to Derek as she gets ready to hold him down. I’ll just close my eyes, she tells herself. I won’t get nightmares. This’ll be fine.

“What if you start begging me to let go and it’s too late?” She asks him, her concerns growing with every second she stares at the saw.

“That’s not gonna happen,” he answers.

“How do you know?” She scoffs. The black veins in his arm are starting to become much more prominent. “What if you try to tell me to let go because you’re bleeding out and I don’t hear you? Then you die from getting your arm sawed off. I don’t want to watch you die.”

Derek leans further into the table, “It’ll heal if it works.”

Stiles eyes the saw with a sickly expression. He swallows thickly, shaking his head. “Look, I don’t know if I can do this,” he admits, his overactive imagination not doing him any favors.

“Why not?” Derek says impatiently.

Stiles looks at him like he’s stupid, “Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!” He lists off exasperatedly.

“You faint at the sight of blood?” Derek asks incredulously.

“No, but I might at the sight of a chopped-off arm!” Stiles screeches in response.

“All right, fine. How about this– either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head,” Derek threatens.

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Okay, you know what? I'm so not buying your threats any–” Derek cuts him off by yanking him forward by the collar of his shirt. Stiles’ eyes widen as he tries to get out of his hold. “Oh, my God!” He gasps. “Okay. All right. Bought. Sold. Totally. I'll do it. I'll do it.”

Derek let’s go of him, the boy pushing himself away from the older werewolf. He turns to say something to Fallon, but she can see the distant look on his face. “Derek, what’s wrong?” She asks attentively. Instead of answering, his cheeks puff out and he lurches forward. Her eyes widen and she tries to take a step back, covering her face with her arms. His mouth flies open and black projectile vomit comes out of his mouth, splattering all over her. She gasps as the hot liquid drips down her body.

Fallon exhales with a small whimper. She shakes her hands, some of the vomit flinging off of her fingers. “It’s fine…” she tries to convince herself. “Everything’s fine… I didn’t even like this shirt anyway.”

Stiles' jaw hits the floor, his own bile rising in his throat. “Holy God, what the hell is that?!”

Fallon turns to Stiles, her facial expression is blank. “Stiles,” she wipes her cheek. “Do what he says.”

“But–” he goes to point at the saw.

“Now!” She screams at him. Despite the vomit all over her, she walks behind Derek and gets a good grip on him. She holds his arm in place and glares at Stiles, “Do it, now.” She orders, nodding towards the saw.

He grabs the saw for a moment before looking up to protest, “Look, honestly, I don’t think I can–”

“Just do it!” Derek and Fallon yell at the same time.

Stiles jumps at how scary their symphony of voices sound together. “Oh, my God. Okay, okay…” He starts the saw, a loud sound accompanying it. He starts putting it towards Derek’s arm, “Oh, my God.... All right, here we go…”

“Stiles! Fallon!” Scott’s voice rings through the clinic.

“Scott?” Stiles looks hopeful, glancing away from the death tool in his hand.

When Scott runs in, the first thing he sees is Fallon practically pinning Derek down while Stiles holds a miniature saw to his arm. His lopsided jaw goes slack, “What the hell are you guys doing?”

Stiles turns the saw off, stepping away from it with a relieved smile. “Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares,” he thanks his best friend.

Fallon steps away from Derek, every step she takes coming with a small ‘squelch’ sound. “Speak for yourself,” she grumbles.

The older man looks at Scott eagerly, “Did you get it?” He asks, searching for any sign of the bullet.

Scott reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small bullet and handing it to Derek. “What are you gonna do with it?” The brunette girl asks, wiping her face off with a towel she found near one of the kennels.

Derek holds the bullet up, “I’m gonna–” he stumbles, his speech much weaker. “I’m gonna–” Out of nowhere, the cure Scott worked so hard to find falls out of his fingers. Derek collapses, hitting the ground roughly as Scott and Stiles try to go after the bullet.

Fallon drops to her knees, eyes going wide as she stares at Derek’s unconscious form. She cups the side of his face with her right hand, shaking his shoulder with the other. He doesn’t move. “Derek! Derek, come on, wake up!” She pleads. Scott and Stiles are babbling in the distance, but she can’t understand a word they’re saying as her entire focus is on the almost dead man below her. Her eyes scan his body and her breath hitches when she notices his chest isn’t rising. She puts her fingers to his neck trying to find any sign of a pulse. It’s there, but not very strong. The weakest pulse she’s felt. Fallon wracks her brain for any kind of medical information she’s learned from the hospital to wake him up.

Her eyes lighten up as she leans forward, opening his mouth to see if there is any blockage. She notices chunks of the black vomit he spat at her earlier blocking his airway. She sticks her pointer and middle finger in his mouth, swiping out the liquid. She then quickly turns him on his side before putting her hand into a fist and hitting him in the back as hard as she can. His eyes shoot open, blue flashing across them as he coughs more blood on Fallon. She cringes but keeps patting his back to make sure all of it leaves his system.

“I got it!” Scott screams. “I got it!”

Stiles looks at Fallon with shock on his face, “Where did you learn how to do that?”

“The hospital,” she utters out quickly, bringing Derek to his feet. “I’ve seen Melissa do it on a choking baby. Obviously with much less force, but same principle.”

“Give me–” Derek gasps in pain as he takes the bullet from Scott’s hand, biting off the tip to expose where the gunpowder is. He empties it into his hand before pushing it forcefully into the wound. He howls loudly as blue smoke starts floating up from the gunshot hole. His face turns red as he falls back to the floor, writhing around in pain. His back arches upwards as he tries to fight against screaming anymore than he already has. Fallon watches in awe as his wound begins to heal at a rapid pace, the black veins slowly disappearing until the injury is completely gone.

“That… was… Awesome!” Stiles exclaims with a clap of his hands. He pumps his fist in the air as if they just got off of an amusement park ride. “Yes!”

“I’m gonna hit you,” Fallon tells him blatantly. Stiles’ face falls, but he knows better than to continue testing her. She walks closer to Derek, sticking her hand out to help him off the floor. “Are you okay?” She asks genuinely.

Derek accepts her offer, using her to get himself up. “Well, except for the agonizing pain…” he says sarcastically.

“I’m guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health,” Stiles comments, crossing his arms. Derek sends a death stare his way making Fallon rolls her eyes as she moves away from him and over to where Stiles is standing.

“Okay, we saved your life, which means you're gonna leave us alone. You got that?” He instructs Derek. “And, if you don't, I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad, and I'm gonna tell him everything–” the threat is cut off by Derek who looks absolutely appalled by what he just said.

“You’re gonna trust them?!” He narrows his eyes. “You think they can help you?”

Scott shrugs his shoulders, “Well, why not?” He yells loudly. “They’re a lot freaking nicer than you are!”

Derek surges forward angrily, “I can show you exactly how nice they are.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon sighs tiredly as she parks her motorcycle in front of her house. Her eyes are practically closing as she trudges through the front door. Stiles had taken her back to the School to get her bike after Derek took Scott to show him how “evil” the Argents are. She closes the front door, a small click echoing behind her.

“Where have you been?”

Fallon flinches as the light to the living room suddenly flicks on. Michael is sitting in his chair in the living room, a book in his lap with a reading lamp sitting beside him. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

“I asked you a question,” he says. “Where have you been? It’s two in the morning.” His voice is more than just concerned or worried. He’s disappointed.

Fallon places her helmet on the kitchen counter before turning back to her dad, “I was out with Scott and Stiles,” she answers.

“Doing what?” He continues questioning. “You all know there’s a police enforced curfew, right? None of you should be out this late, especially on a school night,” he crosses his arms as he walks over to his daughter. “You didn’t text, call, nothing. I had no idea where you were. Now, normally I don’t care because I know you’re responsible, and ninety percent of the time you’re with the boys. But with everything that’s going on, the murders, the dead bodies, you need to start being more communicative.”

“Dad, all we did was drive around,” she defends. “Stiles wanted to go get food and stuff after school, so we went and did that and just hung out around town.”

“Really?” He asks, disbelieving every word coming out of her mouth. “Just eating and driving around?”

“Yes,” she shrugs.

“Then why not shoot me a text?” He lifts an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s too hard, do you?”

“No,” she sighs, getting tired of this conversation already. “I’m sorry. Next time I plan on being out late, I’ll let you know what I’m doing.”

“Oh no,” Michael shakes his head. “There will be no next time. From now on, you will be home by the enforced curfew time. If the boys want to come over and stay the night, you know I have no problem with that. But you will not leave this house anytime after that, do you understand me?”

Fallon scoffs, “Dad, are you serious?” She says upsetly.

“Dead serious young lady,” he nods. “I don’t want to leave my shift at the hospital getting a call from Noah saying that they found my daughter's dead body somewhere in the woods. It’s dangerous out there, Fallon. I’m not going to allow you to engage in reckless behavior. I’m your father. It’s my job to keep you safe. You might hate me now, but it’s for the best,” he shuts his lamp off, setting his book back on their shared bookshelf in the living room. “You can complain about me all you want to the boys, but I’ve made up my mind,” he walks over towards the stairs before glancing back at his daughter. “Now go to bed. You still have school in the morning. You get to deal with the consequence of being tired.”

She watches after her father, shock written all over her face. She just saved a man’s life and pretty much got grounded at the same time. Michael is a very easy going parent. She got lucky in the dad department, and she knows that. Seeing and hearing him talk to her like that isn’t common. They usually don’t have issues to this extent. They have a mutual trust. But if he’s really that worried that he’s willing to confine her to the house, she’s going to have to listen to him.

Or get a lot more creative on how to sneak out.

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.

Night School 1x07

“Lock it! Lock it!” Scott screams as he holds the left door shut for dear life. Fallon sits in between the two boys as panic sets in for all three of them.

“Does it look like I have a key?!” Stiles snaps.

“We’re gonna die,” Fallon mumbles, still staring off into the distance.

Stiles leans down, grabbing her hand, “Hey, look at me.” He forces her to meet his gaze by gently lifting her chin with his finger. “We’re not gonna die… At least not right now.”

“We will if you don’t grab something!” Scott screams at Stiles.

“What?” He looks around the area, trying to find something to lock the door with.

Scott waves his hands wildly, “Anything!”

Stiles huffs, completely overstimulated. He stands up and looks outside the window in the door and notices the bolt cutters they left outside. His eyes light up and Fallon can automatically tell what he’s thinking. She shakes her head, “Stiles… no.”

He looks down at her, “Yes!” He opens the door and shimmies his way out.

Scott scrambles to try and grab him, “No! Stiles, don’t–”

The door shuts, leaving Scott and Fallon inside as Stiles tries to sneakily grab the tool. The brunette girl struggles to get onto her good leg, barely peeking over the bottom of the window. She watches nervously as her friend analyzes the area, making sure the Alpha isn’t coming from another direction.

“Come on, Stiles…” she whispers nervously.

Stiles bends down, grabbing the bolt cutters and that’s when Fallon sees it. The Alpha crawls out from behind Stiles’ jeep, sights set on the spastic boy who still hasn’t noticed his presence. Fallon and Scott both start pounding heavily on the door, trying to get his attention. He turns to look at them, confused by the sudden commotion coming from them. That is until he follows their line of vision and sees the large creature bounding straight for him.

“Stiles, run!” Fallon screams.

He stays stunned for a moment until he realizes that his life is in imminent danger. He scrambles to his feet, tripping over himself slightly as he jumps back into the school, slamming the door shut behind him and sticking the bolt cutters in between the handles to hold it shut.

All three of them pant heavily before slowly moving to check outside again. Nothing. He’s gone. Their nerves spike again as they realize a gigantic werewolf has managed to disappear from view. “Where is it?” Scott asks breathily. “Where did it go?”

Stiles lifts his large LED lantern, flashing it through the window and partially blinding himself because of the reflection. They all continue looking for a moment, glancing in every direction but not seemingly able to find him. Her face is pale. She hates feeling terrified like this because she knows that the Alpha can sense it. He sensed it the night in the video store, and he sure as hell can sense it now.

“That won’t hold, will it?” Scott asks skeptically as he looks at their makeshift lock.

“Probably not,” Fallon replies grimly.

A loud howl causes them to jump out of their skin. Scott is quick to grab Fallon, putting her on his back as they run through the school. She clings onto him tightly, this ride being more bumpy than when she goes through the woods on her motorcycle. Stiles crashes into a classroom, Scott following closely behind with the previous cargo. He sets her down on a nearby chair, her crutches having been abandoned by the front doors to the school. Stiles grabs one side of the teacher’s desk, Scott grabbing the other as they go to move it towards the door.

“Shh! Stop, stop,” Stiles commands as the desk screeches loudly across the tile. He glances back at the door with a defeated sigh, “The door’s not gonna keep it out.”

“I know,” Scott huffs, removing his hands from the desk.

Stiles shakes his head, looking at Scott, “It’s your boss.”

“What?”

“Deaton? The Alpha? Your boss.” Stiles repeats, trying to make him realize the reality of their situation.

“No,” Scott denies.

“I mean, maybe,” Fallon mutters. Scott turns to her with narrowed eyes and she shrugs, “Come on, Scott. He was tied up in the back of the Camaro, then suddenly disappears? Only for the Alpha to show up ten seconds later and toss Derek across the freaking parking lot. Seems to add up, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not him,” he says determinedly.

“He killed Derek, Scott,” she reminds him, her heart beating faster as she replays the image of Derek’s body hitting the brick wall of the school. It’s also rather hard to forget as her once clean shirt is now covered in his blood.

“No,” Scott shakes his head. “Derek’s not dead. He can’t be dead.”

“Blood spurted out of his mouth, dude!” She exclaims. “I’m literally covered in it. The Alpha’s claws literally stabbed him through the back. He was thrown into a brick wall,” she lists off with a scoff. “And you think he’s not dead? He’s gone, Scott. And if the Alpha can take out a werewolf like Derek that easily, what do you think he’s gonna do to us, hm?”

Scott knows she’s right, “Okay just–” he sighs, “What do we do?”

“We get to my Jeep. We get out of here. And you seriously think about quitting your job,” Stiles rattles off his plan. “Good?” He doesn’t wait for a response before traveling over to the windows. Scott follows him while Fallon hops her way over. She pauses behind them as Scott tries to fiddle with the latch, the window not budging.

Stiles grabs his arm, “No, they don’t open. The school’s climate-controlled.”

“So break it,” Fallon says exasperatedly.

“Which would make a lot of noise,” Stiles counters logically.

“It doesn’t matter how much noise we make!” She exclaims. “He can hear our heartbeats and us talking right now anyway! He also has Scott and my scent,” she argues. “I don’t think smashing a window is going to make our situation any worse.”

Stiles goes to continue arguing but Scott stops him, “Stiles, what’s wrong with the hood of your jeep?” He questions, looking out the window with wide eyes.

Stiles furrows his eyebrows, “What do you mean?” He asks defensively, going to look out the window himself. “Nothing’s wrong…”

“It’s bent,” Fallon breathes out, tilting her head as she gazes out the window as well.

“What, like, dented?”

“No, Stiles, I mean bent,” Fallon insists. “Like half of it sticking in the air bent.”

The boy gasps when he sees what they’re talking about, “What the hell…?”

Their curiosity is cut off by the window above them shattering. They all scream, ducking down on the floor to take some sort of cover as a large object flies overhead and lands only a few feet in front of them. From the looks of it, none of them were hit by any falling glass, but the night is still young.

Fallon’s jaw hits the floor, pointing forward, “…That’s your battery,” she says to the boy next to her.

A small whimper leaves Stiles’ mouth as he thinks of how expensive replacing that part is going to be. He stares at it upsetly for another few seconds before shuffling forward to leave. Scott grabs him with a pointed look, “Don’t.”

“We have to move,” Stiles insists.

“He could be right outside!”

Fallon looks at Scott like he’s dumb, “He is right outside! And I don’t know about you, but I’m not gonna sit here and wait for him to come and eat me.”

Scott sits up slightly, sighing, “Just let me take a look.”

They wait as he scans over the parking lot once more, the Alpha absent from sight. Stiles glances up, “Nothing?” He wonders.

“No,” Scott shakes his head with a trembling breath.

“Move now?” Fallon requests, already using the desk next to her to get on her feet.

Scott nods, “Move now.”

Him and Stiles sling both of Fallon’s arms over their shoulders as they walk out into the hallway. They look down both ways, checking to see that the pathway is empty. “This way…” Scott starts pulling them.

Fallon’s body moves with Scott until she’s jerked back by Stiles. She grunts, sending the boy a small glare. He mumbles out an apology before explaining his abrupt motion, “No, no, no, no… Somewhere without windows.”

Fallon furrows her eyebrows, “Every single classroom in this building has windows,” she points out.

Stiles rolls his neck, tired of her arguing with him, “Or somewhere with less windows,” he corrects.

They all pause in thought, trying to think of somewhere in the school. Fallon takes another glance down the hall, taking another deep breath when there’s no sign of the Alpha. Scott’s eyes light up with an idea, “The locker room.”

Stiles nods rapidly, getting ready to move Fallon again. “Yeah.”

She winces, looking between the two, “Is it gonna smell in there? Because if it is, we should go to the girls.”

“Seriously?” Stiles looks at her as they run down the hallway. “Were being chased by Scott’s psycho, murderer boss and you’re worried about the locker room stinking?”

Fallon rolls her eyes, fighting off the urge to kick him because he’s right. “Just keep running.”

They manage to run down the hallway without making much noise to their surprise. Well, not much noise in their opinion. Some shoes were scuffled as well as a certain cuss word leaving Stiles’ mouth as he managed to almost drop Fallon on the way there.

Once they walk in, they set Fallon down on the bench and she looks around with an impressed nod. “Not bad,” she comments. “I only smell a faint stench of sweaty socks.”

The boys ignore her. Scott turns to Stiles, panting from running. “Call your dad,” he instructs.

Stiles scoffs, “And tell him what?”

“I don’t know!” Scott says urgently. “Anything! Gas leak. A fire. Whatever! If that thing sees the parking lot filled with cop cars, it’ll take off.”

“What if it doesn’t?” Stiles challenges, considering the opposite scenario. “What if it goes completely Terminator and kills every cop in sight, including my dad?”

“They have guns!” Scott exclaims.

Fallon leans forward, sending Scott a pointed look, “Yeah, and Derek had to be shot with some rare form of Wolfsbane to even be slightly slowed down, remember that? What do you think the Sheriff department’s peewee guns are gonna be able to do?”

Scott starts to get frantic, clawing for any escape plan from his brain. “Then we-we have to-we have to find a way out and just run for it.”

“There’s nothing near the school for at least a mile,” Stiles points out. “And we can’t keep lugging Fallon around everywhere. No offense,” he nods at her.

“None taken.”

“When does that thing get taken off anyway?” He questions, getting tired of the big bulky cast.

“I’m hoping by the end of next week,” she says, just as irritated with it as he is. “My dad said my X-rays looked good at my appointment yesterday so, fingers crossed.” She gets up from her spot, tired of being the one sitting. “Why don’t we just wait for the Alpha to come into the school?” She suggests. “Then we can just book it back to the other classroom and sneak out of the broken window.”

“Are you dumb?” Stiles narrows his eyes at her. “He already knows we were in there. Why would we go back? Haven’t you watched any sort of horror movie?”

“Yeah,” Fallon scoffs. “And everyone always dies after trying to find some elaborate way to escape. We have an easy opening in that classroom, we should take it.”

“Guys!” Scott interrupts them. “Why don’t we just take Derek’s car?”

“How the hell are we gonna get out to the car genius?” Fallon quirks a brow.

“That could work…” Stiles brushes over her comment. “We go outside, we get the keys… off his body… and then we take his car.”

“And him,” Fallon adds. “I’m not exactly down to just leave his body here.”

Stiles rolls his eyes like that’s a big ask, “Fine. Whatever.”

They all walk towards the door, Fallon more so hobbling. Stiles reaches forward to grab the door handle, but just as he’s about to open it, Scott reaches forward and stops him. His hand wraps around Stiles’ wrist. Fallon and Stiles look at him wildly, wondering what caused the sudden action.

“What?” Stiles lifts his eyebrows.

“I think I heard something,” Scott whispers.

“Wait, what?” Fallon whips her head to him in concern.

Scott slaps a hand over her mouth, “Shh, quiet.” He must hear something else as he slowly starts backing away from the door. He keeps Fallon behind him, turning Stiles’s flashlight around so it doesn’t give away their location. “Hide.”

Stiles acts fast, loudly opening one of the locker doors next to him and shoving himself inside. Scott winces at how much noise it made, but nonetheless grabs Fallon and brings her over to the lockers across from where Stiles is. He shoves her in one, shutting it gently before enclosing himself in the one next to her. The brunette girl covers her own mouth with her arm, trying to minimize the amount of sound her breathing makes as she hears footsteps approaching the locker room door.

The door opens slowly, the creaking sound it makes only increasing the tension that was already there. Fallon pushes herself as far back into the locker as she can, not wanting the Alpha to see her through the small slits in the locker.

Suddenly, the door to Scott’s locker swings open making Fallon’s fight or flight kick in. Despite her leg, she jumps out of her own locker, tackling whoever it is to the ground. “Go, run!” She shouts until she registers who exactly she just body slammed. It's the janitor. Her eyes widen as guilt and embarrassment flood her system. She pulls herself off the man, struggling to get to her feet, “I am so sorry, I–”

“Son of a bitch!” The man yells, rubbing the back of his head where he hit the ground.

“Quiet!” Stiles snaps, not wanting their location to be revealed.

“Quiet my ass!” The man scoffs. “What the hell are you trying to do, kill me?”

“Sir, I really am so sorry–” Fallon tries to get out.

“All three of you, get out! Now!” He points towards the door, his tone leaving no room for an argument.

“Will you just listen for half a second, okay–” Stiles starts in an attempt to calm the man down.

“Not okay,” the Janitor cuts him off, not interested in any excuse or story they have to offer. “Get the hell out of here right now.” The man grabs Scott and Stiles by their necks, glaring at Fallon harshly to get her to follow. She hops on her good leg, using the wall for support as they are all three tossed out of the locker room.

Stiles tries again, catching his balance before falling, “God, just one second to explain–”

“Just shut up and go!”

A loud scream leaves the janitor’s mouth as the door is slammed shut. The three of them watch in horror as he’s pinned against the wall, blood spurting out of him and onto the glass window of the door. The janitor pounds on the window, begging for them to save him from the monster attacking him. Scott moves to open the door, Fallon following closely behind until Stiles yanks them backwards.

“No, no, no,” he pushes them in the opposite direction. “Go! Go!” He scoffs over at Fallon who’s about to jump on Scott’s back, “What were you gonna do? Kick him to death with your cast?”

“You know what sounds like a fantastic idea? Me doing that to you.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon dismounts off of Scott’s back, practically tossing herself at the side doors to the school. She uses all of her body weight to get herself out, but bounces back slightly when the doors don’t give way like she was expecting. The boys grunt loudly as they try to push along with her, but nothing works.

There’s enough of a crack for Scott to push his head through. He sighs when he notices exactly what’s blocking them in, “It’s a dumpster.”

“You’re telling me that this killer werewolf took the time to lock us in here with a freaking dumpster?” Fallon stares at the door with a slack jaw.

Stiles stares ahead, baffled. “Yeah. He pushed it in front of the door to block us in,” he scoffs unbelievably. A surge of anger courses through the boy as he charges towards the door, once again trying to move the blockade, “Come on! Help me!”

Fallon grabs his arm, “Stiles!” She calls out. “It’s no use. We gotta find another way,” she mumbles.

He reluctantly allows her to pull him away from the doors as they start walking back down the hallway in search for another escape route. Stiles shakes his head rapidly, “I’m not dying here. I’m not dying at school,” he says anxiously.

“We’re not gonna die,” Scott reassures as they round a corner.

“What is he even doing?” Fallon asks out loud, trying to figure it out herself as well. “What does he want?” He didn’t attack her at the video store. He hasn’t tried to kill any of them. He hasn’t even really been violent with Scott. Just chasing him. Like a game of cat and mouse.

“Me.” Scott sighs frustratedly. “Derek says it’s stronger with a pack.”

“Oh great!” Stiles comments sarcastically. “A psychotic werewolf who’s into teamwork. That’s-that’s beautiful.”

Scott slaps a hand across both Fallon and Stiles’ chest. They both look at him, confused as to why he just soccer-mom’d the both of them. However, his eyes are stuck out the large window they are now standing in front of. Stiles and Fallon follow his line of vision, both of them turning a pale white as they see the Alpha on the roof across from them.

“Holy fu–” Fallon goes to scream, but is cut off by Scott swooping her up bridal style.

They bolt in the other direction, hearing the smashing of glass as the Alpha begins chasing after them. She grips onto Scott’s neck tightly as they open the door that leads to the staircase. Little grunts leave Scott’s mouth as he tries not to drop her while also maintaining his pace. She silently hopes he doesn’t drop her. She doesn’t want another cast for at least the next four years.

“Over there!” She whisper yells, pointing towards a random hallway. “There‘a a bunch of old beaten up lockers around that corner. We can hide behind those.”

The boys do as they’re told, rounding the corner and speeding towards the lockers she was talking about. They stop, pressing their backs against the cool metal which heavily contrasts their sweating bodies. Each of them holds their breath as to not give away their location. Fallon can hear the low snarling coming from the Alpha who’s only a mere few feet away. Scott barely looks around the corner, letting out a relieved sigh as the creature goes the other way.

“Go,” Scott mouths quietly.

“What?” Stiles tilts his head.

Fallon pushes him forward, “He said go,” she mumbles.

The three of them run forward for a moment, finding an area they deem far enough from where they just spotted the Alpha. They all stare at the entrance, anxiously waiting to see if they’ve been followed.

“Okay, we need to do something,” Fallon insists, backing towards another wall to ease some pressure off of her leg.

“Like what?” Scott asks exasperatedly.

“I don’t know!” She scoffs. “Kill it, maybe?! I am not above seriously debilitating that thing. Hell, we could sit here and mentally assault it for all I care!”

Stiles and Scott inch towards the door on the other side of the room. Fallon stays pushed against the wall, feeling slightly guilty that they’ve had to carry her around the entire night. She freezes in her spot as a distant growling fills her ears. The pipes in the school squeak eerily the longer they sit in silence.

Stiles reaches in his pockets, pulling out a pair of keys that begin to make a rather loud jangling noise. Fallon wishes she could smack him, but Scott seems to have that covered. “Wait a minute, no–”

“Shh,” Stiles hushes him. He finishes pulling them out, shaking them while doing so to create more noise. The growling grows closer and Fallon gets prepared to book it on her own. Out of nowhere, Stiles tosses the keys out of the door into the spare room. The room shakes violently as the Alpha comes barreling towards their location. Stiles slams the door in the things face before jolting backwards.

“What did you just do?!” Fallon screams.

“The desk!” Stiles yells at Scott to help him. “Come on, the desk!”

Scott surges forward, helping Stiles move the large table. They manage to scoot it in front of the door, locking the Alpha out, and also trapping him in the other room. They used the same “dumpster” tactic he used. Fallon exhales, putting her hands on her knees to calm herself down.

She jumps over to Stiles wrapping her arms around him, “God, I love that stupid brain of yours,” she says, relieved.

That relief only lasts a few seconds as the door jolts forward roughly. They all jump at the sound of metal clanging as the Alpha continues to try and break through. The desk separates Stiles and Fallon from Scott as it’s pushed against the door long ways. Stiles gestures for Scott to come to their side, “Come on, get across… Come on!”

Scott jumps over the metal table, standing with his friends on the other side as they look through the small window to where they’ve trapped the Alpha. Stiles cranes his neck in different directions to try and spot it.

“What are you doing?” Scott asks him incredulously.

“I just wanna get a good look at it…” Stiles trails off, practically pressing his face to the glass.

Fallon looks at him flabbergasted, “Are you crazy?! The last thing we should do is antagonize him.”

“Look, it’s trapped, okay? It’s not gonna get out,” he reassures them. The Alpha snarls once more, making Stiles jump on the desk to look at it dead on. He shines his light directly at the werewolf, “Yeah, that’s right, we got you…”

Fallon slaps his back, “What did I just say?” She seethes. “Don’t antagonize it! You’re just gonna piss it off even more than it already is.”

Stiles squares his shoulders, “I’m not scared of this thing–”

He’s swiftly cut off by the Alpha slamming its paw right in Stiles’ face where he was looking. The boy falls off the desk and into Scott’s arms with bated breaths. He scoffs slightly, trying to straighten his posture, “I’m not scared of you,” he calls out, his voice trembling slightly. “Right, ‘cause you’re in there, and we’re out here. And you’re not going anywh–”

A loud crash is all they hear as parts of the ceiling come crashing down from where the Alpha was previously trapped. The three of them slowly look up, hearing the heavy footsteps of the creature who is now crawling over them, inside of the roof. Stiles flashes his light up to the ceiling tiles which are bending under the weight of the werewolf.

Fallon pats Scott’s chest as they start backing away, “Run. Go. Now. Please,” she says in her broken up language. Scott nods his head, the trio taking off around the corner in search of another room to lock themselves in.

They run through random areas of the school that even Fallon didn’t know actually existed. She holds onto Scott’s shoulder as she hops alongside the two of them. Their pace is quick, but not too quick to where they’ll knock her over. She’s not sure how long they’ve been running around for, but it’s been long enough that she definitely needs her pain medication. Unfortunately, she left that in her backpack, which is at Stiles’ house. He insisted she leave her stuff there, saying they’d be back in no time. Look how that turned out.

“Wait, do you hear that?” Scott asks them, abruptly halting his movements. His brows are furrowed as he listens to something that Stiles and Fallon can obviously not hear.

“Not all of us have supernatural hearing, Scott,” Fallon reminds him. “So no, we don’t hear it.”

Scott shakes his head, “It sounds like a phone ringing…” Both of his friends look at him confused. They should be the only one’s in the school, and it’s none of their phones that are going off. Suddenly an alarmed look crossed his face, “I know that ring– it’s Allison’s phone.”

“Wait, are you sure?” Fallon asks him, worry filling her gut at the thought of Allison being stuck in the school with a psycho killer roaming around.

“Yes!” He exclaims, panic lacing his voice. “I-I need to find her. Do either of you have your phone?” He sticks his hand out, his anxieties skyrocketing. He needs to make sure she’s safe.

Fallon nods, grabbing her phone from her pocket and opening it. She pulls up Allison’s contact, pressing the call button before handing it straight to Scott.

She can see his shoulders visibly relax just the tiniest bit as he hears Allison’s voice. She sounds fine. He puts her on speaker so that Fallon and Stiles know what’s going on. “Fallon?” Allison asks, confused.

“No, it’s me,” Scott tells her as he and his two friends move with a new sense of urgency, trying to find Allison before something bad happens. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the school looking for you,” she reveals. “Why weren’t you at my place?” She queries, a bit of hurt in her voice.

“Where are you right now?” He questions her, needing a precise location.

Fallon can hear how lost Allison is, “On the first floor…”

Scott huffs loudly, clenching his fists at how vague her answers still are. “Where? Like where are you exactly?”

“The swimming pools.”

“Get to the lobby,” he instructs strictly, not giving her a chance to ask questions or protest. “Go. Now.”

“Okay. Okay,” she replies. “I’m coming.”

The three of them rush out towards the lobby, hoping to still find the girl in one piece. Fallon uses Stiles for support as they pick up the pace. Scott pushes through the lobby door, a sense of comfort filling him as he sees his girlfriend running towards him.

“Why did you come? Why-what are you doing here?” He rushes out, quickly oncing over her body to make sure she’s not hurt.

Allison furrows her eyebrows, “…Because you asked me to.”

Scott looks just as confused as she does, “I asked you to?”

Allison pulls out her phone, going to the texting thread between her and Scott. Delivered straight from him is a message that says, “Meet me at the school. URGENT.”

Fallon and Stiles share a disturbed look. Does that mean the Alpha has Scott’s phone? Allison picks up on the sudden fear filled tension the trio is sharing. She lowers her phone, “Why do I get the feeling that you didn’t send this message?”

A grim expression takes over Scott’s face, “Because I didn’t.”

Fallon hobbles forward, moving to stand next to Allison. “Did you drive yourself here?” She asks her friend worriedly.

Allison shakes her head, “Jackson did.”

“Jackson’s here, too?!” Scott exclaims, not wanting to have more people be exposed to the dangers of the supernatural.

“And Lydia,” Allison adds quickly. A frown etches its way into her face. All she wants is answers as to why they’re all three acting so odd. “What’s going on? Who sent this text?” Before anyone can think of a lie to answer her questions, her phone starts to ring. She sighs, pressing the device to her ear, “Where are you?”

Simultaneously as Allison asks that, Lydia and Jackson burst in through another door. The strawberry bl made throws her hands up, hanging up the phone she used to just call Allison. “Finally!” She huffs. “Can we go now?”

Allison looks to Scott for confirmation, but the only thing she’s answered with is a heavy thud from above. Stiles, Scott, and Fallon all look at each other, knowing exactly what’s causing the noise. The other three look confused but they definitely weren’t getting an explanation anytime soon. The creaking grows louder and that’s when they know they don’t have much time to get out of there.

Scott grabs Allison’s hand, “Run!” He shouts.

Stiles grabs Fallon, the two of them taking up the back of the group as they dart up the stairs. The heavy panting from the Alpha echoes close behind, thankfully no one dares to turn around, too afraid of being slowed down. They run straight across a long hallway before bursting into another empty classroom. Stiles and Fallon stop, the girl wincing as she plops down in the teachers chair. There’s no way she’s getting this cast off by the end of next week.

When she glances up, she notices the large wall of windows ahead of her. Stiles gapes at the same thing, both of them having the same thought. They would be sitting ducks if they stayed here. The sound of bolts clicking and the door locking causes them to turn around. Jackson and Scott are hurriedly locking and trying to block them in with desks and different arrays of items.

“Help me get this in front of the door.”

Fallon shakes her head, “No, Scott. Wait, we can’t stay–”

“What was that?” Allison talks over the brunette anxiously. She tries to get her boyfriend to answer her, “Scott, what was that?”

“What came out of the ceiling?” Lydia piles onto her friend’s questions, shuffling in her feet nervously.

Jackson and Scott ignore the two girls, piling more and more things in front of the door. Fallon puts her head in her hands, not being able to watch the train wreck unfold. They’ve basically just locked themselves in their own coffin. The Alpha can easily get to any of them.

Her leg is throbbing along with her head. She’s wishing more than anything that she had taken her pain pills before coming here. Not that she’ll need them for very much longer. At this rate she’ll end up dead and not have to worry about broken bones.

“Will you just help me?” Scott calls out to the girls. “The chairs– stack the chairs,” he instructs in a panic.

Allison and Lydia do as they’re told, stacking and moving the chairs where everything else is. Stiles starts to get irritated that no one is listening to him and Fallon, “Guys– can we just wait a second?” Everyone continues moving in a frenzy, not paying any mind to the only two people not assisting. “You guys, listen to me, w–” He frustratedly runs a hand through his buzzed off hair. Fallon feels her own anger bubbling at them just being blatantly ignored. “Can we just wait one second? Guys? Stiles talking,” he comments sarcastically. “Can we hang on one second, please?”

“HEY!” Fallon screams, sick of being talked over. “Would you all just shut up for like ten seconds and listen? Holy crap,” she breathes out, standing up from her seat. All eyes turn to her. They all look spooked, never having heard the brunette raise her voice like that, especially not at them. She limps over to Stiles, her frustration preventing her from sitting still.

“Thank you…” he mutters to her. When his gaze meets everyone else’s he begins to clap sarcastically, “Okay, nice work. Really beautiful job, everyone,” he points to their mountain of furniture mockingly. “Now... What should we do about the twenty-foot wall of windows?” He turns his back to them, presenting the large window pane like it’s an expensive car at a dealership and he’s the salesman.

They all just stare at him awkwardly. No one thought of that, and it shows. Instead of coming up with a solution, the only thing that can be heard is the hysterical breathing of Allison. “Can somebody please explain to me what's going on, because I'm freaking out here. And I would like to know why.” No one answers her so she walks over to her boyfriend, looking at him expectantly, “Scott…?”

Scott looks lost. He doesn’t know what to tell her without completely exposing the truth. Fallon shakes her head, telling him to make up a creative lie. They can’t risk dragging other people into this mess. The werewolf storms away from Allison who keeps looking at him for answers. He braces his arms on a desk a few feet away, his mind running a marathon. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Somebody killed the janitor,” Stiles blurts out.

Fallon spins her head to him so fast. Her eyes look as though they are about to pop out of her head. Everyone is already freaked out enough and he just went and told them that there’s a dead body in the school. He notices the way Fallon’s eye twitches and takes a small step away from her. She fights off the urge to strangle him as Lydia screams from her spot.

“What?!”

“Yeah, the janitor’s dead,” Stiles continues. His heart is in the right place trying to help Scott, but this is the wrong way to go about it.

Allison shakes her head, like denying it will make it go away. “What’s he talking about? Is this a joke?”

“What? Who killed him?” Jackson asks.

Lydia exhales, her whole body trembling, “No, no, no, no… This was supposed to be over… The mountain lion killed–”

“No, don’t you get it?” Jackson snaps, cutting her off. “There wasn’t a mountain lion.”

“Who was it?!” Allison demands. “What does he want? What’s happening?” She asks in a whisper. Scott stays quiet, his mind reeling with possible explanations and people he could blame. “Scott?!” She screams at him.

The boy turns around, stammering, “I-I don't know. I-I just– If-if we go out there, he's gonna kill us.”

“Us?” Lydia’s voice goes up an octave out of anxiety. “He’s gonna kill us?”

“Who?” Allison reiterates. “Who is it?”

Her doe eyes land on Stiles and Fallon who she thinks should also have the answers. Fallon glares at Stiles for bringing up the dead body in the first place. “Fallon?” Allison whispers.

The brunette sighs, rubbing her hand over her face frustratedly. “We don’t know–” She tried to answer in a half-truth but is cut off by Scott.

“It’s Derek,” he lies. “It’s Derek Hale.” Fallon’s face falls as she hears the false accusation. She narrows her eyes at him, disgust being the only readable emotion on her. The poor man might be dead and Scott’s trying to pin another murder on him? One they know for sure he did not commit.

“Derek killed the janitor?” Jackson furrows his eyebrows skeptically.

Allison’s mouth opens and closes, “A-Are you sure?”

“I saw him,” Scott insists, voice raising out of both irritation and desperation.

Lydia shakes her head, “The mountain lion–”

“No!” Scott yells. “Derek killed them.”

“All of them?” Allison asks fearfully.

“Yeah. Starting with his own sister.” This lie is what does it for Fallon. She grips tightly onto the desk next to her so she doesn’t lunge forward and kill Scott. It makes her sick to her stomach how he can say something like that.

“The bus driver?”

“And the guy in the video store.” Scott confirms. “It's been Derek the whole time. He's in here with us. And if we don't get out now, he's going to kill us, too.”

Fallon could only stare at Scott in disbelief. She thought he’d come up with a creative lie, not pin three murders on someone who has already been released as a person of interest. She glances at Stiles who looks just as baffled as she does. They both clearly think it’s a terrible and immoral idea to throw Derek under the bus for this, but Stiles won’t argue against it like she will.

“Call the cops,” Jackson orders.

“No,” Stiles replies.

Jackson looks at Stiles angrily, “Wh-what do you mean, ‘no?’” He asks incredulously.

“I mean, no,” Stiles glares at the jock. “You wanna hear it in Spanish? ‘Noh.’” He puts on his best Spanish accent to accentuate his sarcasm. “Look, Derek killed three people, okay? We don’t know what he’s armed with,” he says, playing into Scott’s lie.

“Your dad is armed with an entire Sheriff’s department,” Jackson argues loudly. “Call him!”

Lydia pulls out her phone, not even bothering to ask Stiles. She takes a step forward, “I’m calling.”

“No, Lydia, would you just hold on a sec–” Stiles tries to follow after her, not wanting to put his father or other lives in danger. Jackson pushes Stiles backwards making Fallon jump forward despite her leg.

“Hey–” she smacks Jackson’s arm away from Stiles’ body. “Touch him and I break it,” she threatens.

“Yes, we’re at Beacon Hills High School,” Lydia tells the operator. “We’re trapped, and we need you to–” she’s stopped by the person speaking to her. Her perfectly manicured brows raise in shock, “But–” she tries to protest, but it’s no use. A distressed and shocked look overtakes her face as she removes her phone from her ear, “She hung up on me…”

“The police hung up on you?” Allison asks bewildered.

“She said they got a tip warning them that there are gonna be prank calls about a break-in at the high school. She said if I called again that they're gonna trace it and have me arrested,” she explains, tears forming at her waterline.

“Okay, then call again,” Allison instructs.

Stiles shakes his head, “No, they won't trace a cell, and they'll send a car to your house before they send anyone here.”

Allison stutters, bringing her hands up to her temples to rub her head frustratedly, “What the– what- what is this?” She laughs humorlessly. “Why does Derek wanna kill us? Why does he want to kill anyone?” She asks, making everyone's head turn to Scott who still looks like he’s trying to get his story straight.

“He doesn’t…” Fallon mumbles lowly enough that only Stiles can hear. He sends her a pointed look, one in which she returns.

“Why’s everyone looking at me?” Scott says defensively.

“Is he the one that sent her the text?” Lydia interrogates.

“No,” he shakes his head exasperatedly. “I mean, I don’t know.”

“Is he the one that called the police?”

“I don’t know!” Scott finally snaps at Allison’s last question which makes her frown and look away, hurt by his harsh tone.

While Fallon does want to smack Scott upside the head for the web of lies he just created, she does feel bad that he’s receiving all the heat. He’s in the exact same position they are all in, and probably has some questions of his own about what’s going on. He doesn’t have the answers for everything. The rapid fire questioning is starting to get on her nerves, so she can’t imagine how he feels.

Scott realizes he took his anger out on the wrong person. He looks down at the floor, ashamed of how he talked to Allison. Stiles places his hand on Scott’s chest, “All right, why don’t we ease back on the throttle here, yeah?” He pulls Scott off to the side, dragging Fallon behind him. “Okay, first off– throwing Derek under the bus? Nicely done.”

Fallon scoffs with a venomous smile, “Yeah, great work,” she nods sarcastically. “Y’know for blaming a most likely dead dude for three murders, one in which he’s already been exonerated for. You’ve been relying on him to teach you how to control yourself, Scott. You both also have already gotten him arrested, so if he did survive that, I guarantee he’s not going to be so forgiving this time around,” she lectures.

“I didn’t know what to say!” Scott defends himself. “I had to say something, and like you said, if he’s dead, then it doesn’t matter, right?”

“I said most likely,” Fallon crosses her arms. “He’s still a werewolf who survived a bullet wound and being almost burned alive in his home.”

Scott’s hope for Derek being dead dwindles. He groans at his own temper, “Oh God, I totally just bit her head off.”

“And she’ll get over it,” Fallon rolls her eyes. “Love you both but the last thing any of us are worried about right now is your teeny weeny fight. If she stays mad, then let her. Got more important things to focus on here.”

“Agreed,” Stiles nods. “Biggest issue we got right now is how do we get out of here alive?” He asks.

“But we are alive,” Scott points out logically. “It could’ve killed us already. It’s like it’s cornering us or something.”

“So, what? He wants to eat us all at the same time?” Stiles questions mockingly.

Scott scoffs at the overdramatization, “No. Derek said it wants revenge,” he brings up.

“Against who?” Fallon ponders. “The Argents?” She suggests. The only people she remembers having any negative reputation with werewolves is them simply because they’re hunters.

“That's what I’m thinking,” Scott nods.

“Maybe that’s what the text was about,” Stiles snaps his fingers as he tries to connect the dots to each other. “Someone had to send it.”

“Okay, assheads! New plan–” Jackson interrupts their conversation causing the trio to look over at him. Fallon chooses to ignore the rude nickname seeing as everyone is on edge. “Stiles calls his useless dad and tells him to send someone with a gun and decent aim. Are we good with that?” He gestures to the two girls with him.

“You don’t have to do that, Sti,” Fallon whispers to him, rubbing his back with her hand.

Stiles looks troubled as Scott sends him a look that says the opposite of what Fallon just said. “He’s right. Tell him the truth if you have to. Just… call him.”

Stiles shakes his head, leaning over to whisper, “I’m not watching my dad get eaten alive.”

“Which is completely justified,” Fallon agrees, glaring at Scott. “Would you put your mom’s life at risk with the Alpha wandering around the halls?” She quips.

Jackson grows angry at the lack of action being taken. He lunges forward, reaching to forcefully remove the phone from Stiles’ hand. “All right, give me the phone!”

Fallon has tried this whole evening to keep her anger at bay. But her fear and frustrations are coming to a boil. So when she feels Jackson shove Scott and her to get to Stiles, her resolve finally snaps.

One moment, Jackson’s arms are outstretched to push her to the side, the next Jackson is groaning in pain and retreating back over to Lydia and Allison. “Damn,” Fallon grumbles, shaking her now swollen, bright red hand. Jackson’s face is sporting the shame shade of red right where her fist collided with his skin.

Stiles and Scott wish they could say they were shocked, but this has been a staple for Fallon since they met her. Stiles smirks proudly, recalling the time she defended them against Tony in the third grade. She’s never been a fan of bullies, even if she’s on good terms with them herself. Defending Scott and Stiles has always been her priority and that’s why she ignores the slight dirty looks from Allison and Lydia.

“Dad, hey, it's me,” he greets until he realizes his father didn’t actually answer. “And it's your voicemail. Look, I need you to call me back now. Like, right now. We're at the school. Dad, we're at the school.”

Stiles hangs up the phone, ending the voicemail to his dad. Fallon massages her knuckle, shrugging over to Jackson who glares at her. That might put a bigger dent in their so-called “friendship.” Out of nowhere, the doors to the room start to shake. All of them jump with a yelp as the Alpha bangs on them trying to get through to the group of teens. Despite the high tensions, they all huddle together in attempts to protect themselves.

“The kitchen. The door out of the kitchen leads to the stairwell,” Stiles says, keeping his eye on the door that’s shaking.

“Which only goes up,” Scott reminds him.

“Up is better than here,” Fallon adds, slowly inching her way to the stairwell.

“Jackson, how many people can fit in your car?” Scott asks urgently, hoping that can be there escape plan rather than having to explain stealing Derek’s Camaro.

“Five, if someone squeezes on someone’s lap.”

Allison turns to him with a scoff, “Five?!” She exclaims. “I barely fit in the back.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Stiles reality checks the situation. “There’s no getting out of here without drawing attention.”

“What about this?” Scott starts, walking over to the door on the other side of the room. “This leads to the roof. We can do gown the fire escape to the parking lot in, like, seconds.”

“That’s a deadbolt,” Stiles points out as he goes to examine the lock.

“The janitor has a key.”

“You mean his body has the key,” Fallon clarifies as she joins the two boys, further away from the rest of the group.

“I can get it,” Scott tells them. “I can find him by scent, by blood.”

“Well, gee, that sounds like an incredibly terrible idea,” Stiles criticizes quickly. “What else you got?” He crosses his arms, waiting for a better plan.

Scott looks to Fallon to see if she’ll back him up. To his misfortune, she has the same defiant look as Stiles. “Don’t look at me,” she shrugs. “I’d rather not have to explain to our parents why you got murdered going to fish some keys off of a dead body. I prefer you alive despite how stupid I think you are.”

The boy looks at her determinedly, “I’m getting the key,” he persists.

Fallon rolls her eyes at his superhero complex. She does appreciate his effort and need to save everyone, but sometimes it’s too dangerous. She really doesn’t want to see him get hurt, or kidnapped, or killed. There are many different ways this could go with the Alpha watching them.

“Are you serious?” Allison asks him aghast.

“Well, it’s the best plan,” Scott admits. “Someone has to get the key if we wanna get out of here,” he explains.

“You can’t go out there unarmed.”

Scott agrees, scanning the room to look for some kind of weapon. He reaches over, grabbing a long pointer stick the teacher who occupies the classroom probably uses for lectures. They all look at him warily. He shrugs, “Well, it’s better than nothing.”

“There’s gotta be something else…” Stiles frowns, Turing on his heel to find something more useful for his friend to defend himself.

Lydia searches as well, her eyes landing on the cabinet full of different chemicals behind her, “There is,” she smirks. Fallon follows her sightline, tilting her head as she picks up on what Lydia’s getting at.

Stiles throws his hands up when he notices what they’re looking at, “What are we gonna do? Throw acid on him?”

Fallon sighs, “No– it’s kinda like a fire bomb,” she tries to explain in terms Stiles would understand.

Lydia nods, “In there is everything you need to make a self-igniting Molotov cocktail.”

Stiles squints his eyes, still dumbfounded by what they’re saying, “Self…igniting…”

“…Molotov cocktail,” the strawberry blonde finishes snidely. She notices the odd look from her boyfriend, “What? I read it somewhere,” she covers, still trying to act dumb.

“We don’t have a key for that either–” Stiles tries to point out, but is cut off by Fallon walking forward and shoving her jacket clad elbow through the glass. It shatters and she steps away, brushing off the small pieces that stuck to the cloth. “Nevermind…” Stiles mutters.

Fallon rummages through the cabinet, getting all of the chemicals and items needed while Lydia works on combining the right amount of ingredients. They all watch the two girls work, Jackson handing Lydia the materials Fallon puts down.

“Jackson,” Lydia calls out for the blonde who’s standing closest to her. “Hand me the sulfuric acid.”

He mindlessly grabs a bottle and hands it to her. The bored look on his face makes Fallon roll her eyes, but he quickly becomes intrigued when he hears Allison become hysterical as she speaks to Scott.

“No. No, this is insane,” she looks at him with tear filled eyes. “You can’t do this. You cannot go out there.”

Scott sighs, trying to find the best way to comfort her, “We can’t just sit here waiting for Stiles’ dad to check his messages,” he argues softly.

Allison leans over the desk, “You could die,” her speech starts to become more frantic. “Don't you get that? He’s killed three people.”

“And we’re next. Somebody had to do something,” Scott says persuasively. Fallon understands that Allison is just worried, but if they just sit here and do nothing, they’ll have way less of a chance at surviving.

He goes to walk towards the door to leave the classroom, but Allison gets in his way, “Scott, just stop,” she begs him. “Do you remember-do you remember when you told me you knew whether or not I was lying? That I had a tell? Well, so do you. You're a horrible liar, and you've been lying all night. Just-just please, please don't go. Please don't leave us. Please.”

Fallon has never felt more awkward in her life. She knows how serious this is, but the over emotional-ness of the conversation is making her extremely uncomfortable. She rubs the back of her neck, looking anywhere but at the couple. However, there is one person who’s seemingly enjoying the little quarrel. Jackson. The brunette rolls her eyes, moving as far away from the blonde as possible.

Scott gives her a regretful look before trying for the door again, “Lock it behind me,” he breathes out. Allison doesn’t let him get far before pulling him back to her by his arm. She connects her lips to his, making everyone else glance in another direction. Fallon doesn’t understand their relationship. One minute she’s mad at him for leaving, and now this. It’s giving her whiplash and she’s not even involved.

Once the door shuts behind Scott, Fallon walks over to it and locks it. “Good luck, Scotty,” she whispers, hoping he hears her. Now it’s all about waiting. The brunette slides into a spot besides Lydia who is watching Jackson comfort Allison from afar. She nudges the strawberry blonde, “You okay?”

Lydia scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest, “No, obviously I’m not okay. We are all stuck in the school with some crazy killer out to get us and our only hope of getting out is if Scott manages to hit Derek with that cocktail.”

Fallon sighs, “I know. But I have faith in him. Scott’s resourceful. He won’t let us die here.”

Lydia doesn’t respond, a frown etching its way into her features as she watches Jackson hold Allison’s hand. Fallon glares in his direction. He has a girlfriend who needs him too, and yet he’s over there preying on Allison. “I never understood why you pretend to be dumb in front of him.”

Instead of pretending she’s clueless to what Fallon’s talking about, Lydia just shrugs, “The same reason you’ve never accepted the co-captain position,” she answers simply.

Fallon lifts an amused brow, chuckling slightly, “Touché.”

“Men’s egos are a fragile thing,” Lydia mutters almost disgustedly.

Fallon nods in agreement, “Especially ones like Jackson.”

Lydia hums quietly, wanting to say something but holding back for the sake of her relationship. She slowly ventures out from behind the desk and towards Jackson. Fallon doesn’t try to stop her because there is no convincing Lydia to break up with him. There never has been. She just hopes that the shorter girl realizes her worth and how much more she could do if she didn’t hold herself back for him. Or any guy for that matter.

“So the Incredible Hulk made a special appearance tonight, huh?” Stiles’ voice pulls her out of her thoughts.

Fallon looks down at her feet to hide her smirk, “I didn’t mean to…” she mumbles. “I just saw Jackson coming at you and it kinda just… came out, I guess.” She admits.

“Well, not that you need me to tell you, but I thought it was super badass,” he nudges her shoulder with his own smile. His small grin fades when he notices her messing with her fingers. A habit she has when she’s nervous. “We’re gonna be okay, Fall,” he whispers, lacing his fingers with hers.

A sense of warmth fills her chest. She squeezes his hand, mindlessly rubbing her thumb on the back of it. “I know…” she says unsurely. Stiles shoots her a pointed look. “Or at least I hope so,” she gives in to her insecurities about the situation.

“We’ll get out of here,” he reassures her, kissing the side of her head. She sighs, nodding her head before leaning onto his shoulder. He wraps his arm around her waist to hold her close. As much as he wants to say he’s comforting her, having her next to him like this is doing more for his anxieties than hers. “And then by the end of next week, you’ll have this stupid thing off,” he pats her cast, “then this will all feel like some stupid, distant memory.”

“I don’t know about distant,” she jokes quietly. “But definitely something we can trauma bond over.”

“Dead bodies and Alpha werewolves,” he nods, his lips in a thin line. “Nice.”

“Jackson, you handed me the sulfuric acid, right?” Lydia’s voice pulls their attention over to where she, Jackson, and Allison are standing. “It has to be sulfuric acid– it won't ignite if it's not.”

“I gave you exactly what you asked for tonight,” Jackson snaps tensely, glaring at Lydia for no reason.

Lydia looks taken aback, almost flinching at the sound of his voice. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure you did.”

Silence falls over the room, no one really knowing what to say to one another. The tension is high as they wait for any sign of Scott or safety. A few minutes later, a loud growl comes from somewhere within the school. Everything in the building felt like it was shaking. Fallon covers her ears, the loud noise becoming too much to handle. Everyone else has the same reaction, cowering away from whatever it could be… except for Jackson. He falls to his knees, clutching the back of his neck.

Lydia and Allison rush to his side and try to help him up, but all Fallon and Stiles could focus on is the marks on the back of his neck. Marks that look vaguely similar to werewolf claws. Fallon’s eyebrows furrow. It couldn’t have been from the video store. The Alpha didn’t even touch him then.

“No, I’m fine,” Jackson brushes the girls off. “Like, seriously– I’m okay.”

“That didn’t sound okay at all,” Allison argues.

Stiles goes to reach for the claw marks, “What’s on the back of your neck?”

“I said I’m fine!” Jackson slaps Stiles’ hand away with a withering glare.

Fallon grabs Stiles, pulling him back. They both know exactly what’s on his neck. Lydia glances at the two friends, “It’s been there for days,” she explains. “He won’t tell me what happened.”

The blonde scoffs harshly, “As if you actually care,” he says snidely.

“Woah,” Fallon puts her hands up. “She wouldn’t be asking if she didn’t care, asshat. So why don’t you try responding respectfully this time before I punch you so hard that I actually break something?” She takes a menacing step towards Jackson but is yanked backwards by Stiles.

“Calm down,” Stiles scolds her. “Can we not argue for like half a second here?” He begs everyone.

Allison glances to the door worriedly, “Where’s Scott? He should be back by now.”

Suddenly there was a small click at the door. Almost like the sound of it being unlocked from the outside. Allison’s eyes widen as she shoots towards the door, “Scott! Scott!” She screams. She frantically tries to turn the door knob, but it doesn’t budge. He must be holding the handle still from the outside. She continues yelling for him, desperate to make sure he’s okay.

“Stop! Stop!” Lydia yells, catching Allison’s attention. She stops screaming and wriggling the door handle. “Do you hear that? Listen.” Everyone stays silent and that’s when they hear the heavenly sounds of police sirens. Noah got Stiles’ message.

They all walk towards the window, sighing in relief as they see police cars pulling up to the school one by one. Fallon leans into Stiles’ side once she realizes that what he said was true. They are all going to be okay. Stiles smiles softly, leaning his head on top of hers, happy to accept the affection.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon sits on the edge of an ambulance, the EMT’s doing a bit extra than what they did for the others due to her broken leg. Stiles sits next to her, not wanting her to be alone while Scott stands at her other side. Doesn’t leave much room for the paramedics to do their job, but she doesn’t want them to leave her side.

“You sure it was Derek Hale?” Noah Stilinski asks skeptically to the three teens.

“Yes,” Scott answers confidently.

“I saw him too,” Stiles adds.

Noah narrows his eyes, still not totally convinced. He glances at the brunette, “Fallon?”

The girl wasn’t sure what to say. Derek wasn’t guilty of anything they were accusing him of. She couldn’t just throw him under the bus… again. But she also can’t go against Scott and Stiles. She groans, hiding her face in Scott’s arm, “I need a nap,” she replies. Hopefully this response is neutral enough to not warrant any more questions.

The sheriff doesn’t push for any more information, assuming the brunette is just exhausted and frightened after the long night they’ve had.

“What about the janitor?” Scott questions, wanting to know if they found the man’s body.

Sheriff Stilisnki nods apprehensively, “We’re still looking.”

“Did you check under the bleachers? Under them?” The werewolf continues to push for a more solid answer, emphasizing every word.

Noah sighs, “Yeah, Scott, we looked. We pulled them out just like you asked. There’s nothing.”

Fallon closes her eyes as she leans against Stiles. So not only is the Alpha a killer, but he also knows how to cover up his crimes… comforting.

“I’m not making this up,” Scott says defensively, knowing that no one here besides the people next to him believe him.

“I know. I believe you, I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Scott says sadly. “You have this look like you feel bad for me. Like you want to believe me, but I know you don’t.”

“Listen– we’re gonna search this whole school. We’re gonna find him, okay?” He places a hand on Scott’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “I promise.”

Fallon isn’t exactly sure how far this promise is going to go. With how many unexplainable things that happened tonight, they’ll be lucky to even find a logical explanation for the werewolf sized holes in the ceiling.

A deputy calls out for Noah, making him sigh. He’s reluctant to leave the three teens to their own devices. He gives them all a strict look, “Stay. All three of you.”

He walks away, leaving the trio to their own devices. Fallon’s blinking becomes much slower, sleep threatening to take over her body. Stiles puffs out a breath of air, “Well, we survived, guys. You know? We outlasted the Alpha.” Scott looks a bit unsure which makes Stiles furrow his eyebrows. “It’s still good, right? Being alive?”

Scott sends them a serious look, “When we were in the chemistry room, he walked right by us. You don’t think that it heard us?” He points out the reality of their situation. “You don’t think it knew exactly where we were?”

“Then why wouldn’t it come after us?” Fallon frowns. “Why would it waste an opportunity to kill? It hasn’t before.”

“It wants me in its pack. But, I think, first… I have to get rid of my old pack.”

Stiles tilts his head, “What do you mean? What old pack?” He asks, confused.

Scott’s face shows nothing but regret and Fallon knows why. She sits up, taking her head off of Stiles’ shoulder. “Us,” she answers. “He means us.”

Stiles looks at Scott, shock covering his face. Their werewolf friend nods morosely. “The Alpha doesn’t want to kill us…” Stiles realizes.

“It wants me to do it,” Scott huffs loudly. “And that’s not even the worst part.”

Stiles’ jaw hits the floor. He groans exhaustedly, “How the holy hell is that not the worst part, Scott?”

“Because when he made me shift… I wanted to do it,” he admits shamefully. “I wanted to kill you. All of you.”

“Y’know, I appreciate the honesty,” Fallon begins. “But I would feel a whole lot better if you kept your murderous thoughts to yourself for the next forty-eight hours,” she squeezes her eyes shut. “Or at least until my headache goes away.”

“Fallon!”

The girl groans and forces her eyes open. Her father is barreling towards her, worry and anger the primary emotions he’s expressing. “Hey dad,” she greets groggily.

“I thought you said you were sleeping over at the Stilinski’s,” he bends down in front of her, checking her more thoroughly than the EMT’s did.

Scott and Stiles hold back their laughter at Michael’s overprotectiveness. Fallon rolls her eyes, “I was,” she defends herself. “But I accidentally left my phone in Mr. Harris’s class after detention and I didn’t realize until we got to his house,” she nods over to Stiles. “So I asked him to take me back and that’s when everything went downhill.”

Her lie is effortless, and it works very well with their situation. She has her phone on her now so it just looks like they found it and we’re on their way out when they got cornered. Scott walked off after seeing Allison, but Stiles just watches in awe. He would’ve believed every word that came out of her mouth if he didn’t live the experience with her.

Michael sighs, seemingly believing the fabrication. He leans forward to kiss her forehead, “All right, kiddo. I think it’s time to get you home.” She nods, letting Stiles and her father help her up. The surgeon nods, silently thanking the paramedics for their help. “You ready?” He asks her.

Fallon nods, “Yeah. I’m probably gonna sleep until I’m dead,” she says gruffly.

Michael cracks a small smile before patting Stiles’ back, “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Of course Mr. Donovan,” he nods. “Couldn’t let anything bad happen to her, now could I? My life would be pretty boring.”

Michael smiles as his daughter hobbles over to his car, “You and me both, kid.”

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