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Chapter Text

Author's Note:  This story takes place after season 1, with the pairing being my OC, Avery Chastings, and the unbelievably sexy Derek Hale ^_^

I haven't decided yet whether or not this will follow the story line much, I don't think it will, but I'm only starting to watch season 2 now so things might change. This chapter is more like an intro, I'm really bad at the beginnings of stories but I promise next chapter will be pretty cool. (That's when Derek comes in)

The point of view will shift a lot in later chapters but not in this one


I let the front door close behind me and set my lacrosse bag and stick on the ground, "And why they ever let that Blair girl play is beyond me," my mom says as she storms ahead of me into the kitchen, I hear her purse slam down on the kitchen table, "the girl couldn't score if we gave her a soccer goal to shoot at, and you can park a semi in those things!" I slowly lower myself to the ground, sending pain shooting up my thighs, I untie my cleats that I hadn't bothered to take off after the post-game team talk. I stand back up and kick the cleats on to the mat that covers the wooden floor. I limp into the living room and fall back on the couch.

"And those referees! They were terrible!" I take in a shaky breath, my lungs still burn, everything still burns. The slamming of pots on the stove and the clanking of plates rings from the kitchen. My hair sticks to my head, cool sweat keeping it in place, I don't even want to think about how disgusting I look.

I look down to see my legs are a bright red, along with splotches of brown from the dirt and mud of the field. The tops of my thighs burn from constantly having to sprint from one end of the field to the other. But I guess that's what's wrong with being a midfielder in lacrosse, running all game long, no matter what. "Oh, Avery," my mom lets out a sigh of disgust, I look over to see her in the doorway to the kitchen, "get off the couch," her voice is grating and nagging, just like always, "go get cleaned up and ready for dinner."

Everyone's always complimenting me on my looks, but I'm nowhere near as beautiful as my mom. With long, wavy, auburn hair, a subtle glow to her pale skin, large, stunning blue eyes, along with a tall, toned frame, my mom's physique has always been that of a dancer. And I guess that's fitting since she used to be an amazing ballerina.

My mom's always pushed me to take up ballet myself, trying to mold me into a dancer as graceful and elegant as she was. I remember when I was eight, stealing the video tapes of her performances in shows like The Nutcracker that she kept in a cabinet near the T.V. and watching in awe as she seemed to float across the stage with ease. I used to dream of being just like her.

She even started her own ballerina studio, which she still forces me to attend, in hopes that I might fall in love with it as she had. But over the years, my mother has become more like an instructor than a mom.

When I don't make a move to get off the couch, my mom folds her arms across her chest and leans against the door frame, a sour look on her face, "It's not the end of the world, darling." I turn my head towards the ceiling and close my eyes as she continues trying to comfort me, "You still have next year."

I wince at that, "We couldn't do it my freshman year, couldn't beat them sophomore year, and now here we are again, junior year," my heart aches at the thought that we'd given it our all, and it still wasn't enough, "it won't be any different next year."

Every year the girl's lacrosse team at Beacon Hills makes it to the regional championship and every year we lose to Walkerton high school. Meanwhile every year the boys win states. I had hopes that this would be the year; that we'd finally beat them. But once again, I was wrong.

The score at halftime was 7-7, and we could've done it, but by the halfway mark in the second half, we were too tired. We ended up losing 14-10.

"You don't know that," my mom says in an unusually soft voice, "you don't know who's coming in next year, maybe the freshmen will change things." She turns back to the kitchen, "You'll always have dance." She says with a ring in her voice as she strides back into the kitchen.

I lay there on the couch for a few more minutes before I find the heart to drag myself to the stairs. Every step makes my thighs burn all the more and by the time I reach the top, I feel as if they're on fire. I limp into my room, flipping on the light as I enter and carelessly tossing my jersey onto the floor as I drag myself towards my bathroom across the room.

My room is small, but it has a bathroom inside it which is a big plus for me. I peel off my shorts, spandex, sports bra, and mid-calf socks as I make my way toward the bathroom, not caring that my drapes are slightly open.

I flip the light on in my bathroom and immediately head for the shower. I turn the nob toward the blessed 'H' engraved on the metal, and water begins sputtering out of the shower head, until it reaches a steady flow. I turn back to close my bathroom door, and then turn my faucet on to help the warm water get to the shower faster.

I look up into the mirror and practically wince; my hair is frizzy from California's heat, my cheeks are the same color red as my legs, and a large mud smear covers my forehead. I close my eyes and breathe in the steam that floats up from the water pooling in the sink. I reach back and pull the hair tie from my braid that reaches past my shoulder blades.

My medium brown hair slowly unfurls itself from the braid's mold, though the sweat keeps the hair on my scalp in place. I take in another deep breathe, my lungs are already feeling better. Now if only my legs would stop burning…..

I've always though I've had an awkward body, the proportion of my legs to my torso just doesn't seem fitting. My mom's always said that my legs are something any ballerina would be envious of, but to me they just seem strange.

I take one last glance at my 5'7'' bare, sweaty, dirt-covered frame before I sigh, turn off the faucet and step into the shower. I watch as the mud and dirt is swept away by the hot water and soap. I quickly shampoo and condition my hair, leaving the scent of peaches in my hair. I turn the water off, and grab my towel from the rack and step out of the shower.

I wrap my towel tightly around my torso and grab a smaller towel off the counter for my hair. I dry my hair as best I can and then begin the task of combing it out. Knots have since formed magically all through it, making combing a hassle.

My eyes are dark blue, nowhere near the bright, attention seizing icy color of my mother's. How I ended up with dark blue I'll never know, both my parents have light blue. I finish combing my hair and flip the light off.

I walk back into my room and grab an over-sized Beacon Hills sweatshirt and throw it on so I won't have to wear a bra. I pull on some old black sweat pants and make my way back downstairs. I find my mom sitting at the kitchen table, eating a plate of spaghetti and sipping on a glass of red wine.

I look to see an identical plate across the table from her, "There you are, darling." I walk to the fridge and grab a water bottle from the top shelf. I sit down and I eat dinner quickly, neither one of us says much, that's how it always is after a lacrosse game, my mom resents lacrosse, she thinks it's only a distraction from ballet.

"Thanks, mom." I say quietly as I grab my plate and set it in the sink. I walk to my lacrosse bag and rummage through it until I find my phone. I check it for messages, but find nothing. I sigh and pace back to the kitchen. "I'm just gonna go to bed," I say in a flat voice.

My mom just gives me a cold look, "Why don't you just quit lacrosse already?" I roll my eyes.

"Mom, I love it, and I'm already committed to play in college, so I think it's a little late." My mom just stares back at me with her icy blue eyes.

"It's only a verbal commitment, you can still change your mind, Avery." I sigh, we've been over this countless times.

"Mom, I want to play." My head begins to ache.

"Why? So you can feel like shit every time you lose a big game? There's no losing in the ballet." She emphasizes the last word with a sweet voice. I shake my head.

"Mom, I really can't do this right now, I'm going to bed." I say as I make my way to the stairs.

"You sound just like your father," I hear her mumble and give a sour chuckle. I pause for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, listening to see if she'll say anything more.

But only silence fills the house, just like always. I slowly make my way back up the stairs and into my bedroom.

The lavender of the walls hurts my head, which aches even more now. I throw myself unto my messy bed face down in the pillows. After a minute, my phone starts to vibrate. I turn over and bring my phone up to see the screen.

Incoming call: Jake Reily

I smile, and hit the answer button. "Hey," I say, my mood brightened almost instantly.

"Hey, babe, how'd the game go?" Jake and I are unofficially going out, though nothing big has really happened between us yet. I sigh and close my eyes at the thought of the reason I was in a bad mood.

"We lost," I say flatly, "how about yours?" Jake plays defense on the boy's lacrosse team, they also played their regional championship tonight at Redfield high.

"Sorry to hear that, Ave," he pauses, "we won," which would make them regional champs, again, and on their way to states, where they'll win, again.

"That's great," my voice is flat, and I can't find any heart to make it sound anything but flat. I can hear the sound of the boy's lacrosse team screaming in the background, no doubt celebrating their victory.

"You sound down," he says that like it's surprising, "you alright? Do you want me to come over for a little while?" I look at the clock, 10:30.

"Umm, it's a little late."

"C'mon, Ave," I can hear the smile in his voice, "I can cheer you up." There's an innuendo in there somewhere, I'm sure, but I'm too tired to care.

"No, I'm sorry Jake, but my mom would kill me…" I hear him sigh on the other end of the line.

"…..Alright, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Yeah, see ya then." I press the end button and then walk to turn out the light. I flip the switch and then crawl into bed, my muscles beginning to throb again. I close my eyes and ignore the pain, hoping it'll be fine tomorrow.

My alarm screams at me to wake up, but my heavy eyes tell me to go back to sleep. I reach over and slam the snooze button down and fall back to sleep for five more minutes.

The alarm sounds again and this time I pull myself out of bed and begin the hunt for clothes to wear. I'm still sore all over, but it's not as bad as it was last night. I search my drawers and closet for an outfit and in the end I decide on a pair of dark skinny jeans, a simple pair of brown sandals, and an ivory lace peplum top.

I quickly cover my face with foundation and then do my mascara and eyeliner, I add lip gloss just for an extra touch. I run my hands through my long, light brown hair, giving my wavy hair some volume. Overall, I look pretty damn good today. I grab my backpack and keys and head out.

My mom doesn't wake up for a while since her job as a ballet instructor doesn't start until the afternoon. What's more, the ballet studio is in our basement, so she runs the classes from home.

I push the unlock button on the remote and the plain black Chevy sedan lights up. My mom had bought this used car for my seventeenth birthday about a year ago, it isn't much, but it's a car, and that's good enough for me.

I drive to school and zip in to my parking spot with ease. I swing my car door open and step out into the warm sunlight. Students clutter the campus, some sitting on the hoods of their cars talking, some walking into the building, skateboarders and bicyclists weave through the crowd easily.

I take a deep breath, the morning air is already thick with heat, the fourth and final quarter of my junior year is almost over, and summer is nearly here. All that's left is to take final exams, which start today. I never study for exams, I find I always do terrible on them if I spend my time stressing and studying.

I look over the campus and smile as I catch sight of my best friend Tori and Jake talking in the middle of the school's lawn. Tori looks my way and gives me a wave to come over. I lean into my car to grab my backpack in the passenger seat. I toss one strap over my shoulder and close the car door, locking it as I turn away with the remote control.

I make my way across the parking lot and step unto the crowded sidewalk when a frantic voice calls out from my left, "SCOTT! SCO-" something slams into me and next thing I know, I'm on the ground with something heavy on top of me.

I open my eyes to see a pair of wide, wild light brown eyes staring back at me, a familiar pair of brown eyes. Stiles Stilinski is laying on top of me, his hot breath brushes over my neck as he pants from whatever he was doing before he ended up on top of me. "Oh, Avery," he says in surprise, I just lay there waiting for him to get up.

"Hi," he says after a moment.

"Umm, Stiles?" I say quietly, the sound of laughing comes from all around us. "Get off me!" My voice is harsh, I can feel my cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

All of a sudden, Stiles is hauled up and off of me, and Tori leans down to help me up. Jake holds Stiles by the collar of his jacket, "What the hell do you think you're doing, Stilinski?" He hisses. I take Tori's hand and she pulls me up. I brush the front of my lace shirt off.

"Oh no, Ave," Tori says as she looks at my back.

"What? What is it?" I say, my eyes going wide with worry. How much worse can this get, really? It seems like everyone is watching us, my face burns and I doubt my foundation can cover up the shade of crimson I must be by this point.

"There's dirt all down your back." Tori says in a shocked tone. I gasp and try to see the dirt stains as another figure joins our scene.

"Hey, let him go," Scott McCall says as he touches Jake's shoulder, since Scott is co-captain of the lacrosse team, Jake releases Stiles with little more than a grunt and a shove. Tori begins madly sweeping her hand across my back in an attempt to brush the dirt from my back.

Meanwhile Scott bends down and grabs a few papers that had fallen out of my backpack, he slips them back into my bag and stands up to hand it to me. "I'm really sorry about that," he says, his dark brown eyes are sincere, I give a polite smile as Tori stops brushing my shirt and comes to stand by my side.

"It's fine," I say, letting out a sigh of displeasure.

"I tried my best," Tori says as she brushes a strand of her short blonde hair out of her eyes, "but it won't come out." She gives what looks like a pout, but I ignore it.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder again as Stiles walks back over to us. Jake steps out in front of him so he can't get very close, but Stiles doesn't seem to care, "Hey, Avery, I'm-I'm so sorry." Stiles has always seemed like the poster child for ADHD, but he's always been a sweet guy, maybe a little odd, but sweet.

"Don't worry about it," I sigh as I look around again to see everyone still staring at us. Tori and Jake quickly move into action, Tori takes me by the arm and leads me to the entrance of the school, giving her best 'nothing's wrong here' smile as Jake walks behind us both, doing his best to hide the dirt stain on my back.

"That Stiles guy is such a freak," Tori says, still somehow managing to keep her glowing smile.

"I'll tell you one thing, if McCall hadn't been there to save his ass-" Jake starts as we walk through the doors and into the school.

"Hey can you guys just walk with me to my locker?" I ask, still feeling like everyone is staring at me. Tori nods her head enthusiastically.

"Of course!" she says in a peppy voice. Tori and I have been friends for as long as I can remember, she's always had my back, I guess that's more in a literal sense right now…

The three of us make it to my locker, with Jake walking closely behind me, effectively hiding my back from view. Once we get there, Tori gives me a sly smile, a wink, and slips away to leave me alone with Jake.

I unlock my locker easily and pull out the spare jacket I always keep in there just in case of a rainy day. I drop my backpack and slip it on, "You know," Jake begins with his usual smooth voice, I turn to stare into his soft grey eyes, "Jackson's having a party this Saturday, and I was hoping you'd go with me as my date." Our relationship is what I'd call 'super-extra-mega complicated'.

We've been flirting non-stop all year, he calls me on the phone, calls me 'babe' and we've made out a couple times, and he's tried to get me to go further with him, but I don't know what it is that holds me back from just giving in to him.

Then again, he's proved he's loyal, he's been around all year, and not a lot of boys would do that after they find out they get shut down a couple times.

"Saturday?" I smile, "I'd have to check with my mom, but I'd like that." He gives a charming smile, his short brown hair is gelled perfectly and as he leans in to kiss me, I catch the smell of his cologne.

Our lips meet for a quick kiss and as he leans back he gives another smile while he looks into my eyes, "Pick you up at 9?" I give a small laugh of agreement and he leans in for another quick kiss.

The bell rings and we both go our separate ways to our classrooms for our exams, and ultimately, judgment time.

I walk into my chemistry class and take a seat at one of the heavy black lab tables that are scattered throughout the room. My classmates filter in and slowly find their seats. Scott and Stiles walk in together just like always, with the two of them whispering back and forth, also just like always.

"Hey, Ave," a voice to my right calls, I turn to see Jackson sitting at the table across from me, "read the paper yet?" he gives a wicked grin as he holds up the local newspaper's sport section.

Beacon Hills girl's lacrosse: Back to Square One

The picture below the headline shows me cradling the ball with a Walkerston player playing defense on me. Jackson turns the paper back around towards him, " 'Maryland -committed Midfielder Avery Chastings played strong, but seemed to tire halfway through the game, allowing Walkerston the room they needed to pull away for the win.'"

I turn away as he chuckles, "Fuck you, Jackson." I hear Scott snort and laugh. Jackson can be a dick sometimes, but he's normally okay around me, I guess not today though.

Scott and Stiles are two of only five sophomores in this class, which is why the stick together so much, I guess. They take the seats at the table in front of me, Stiles turns and gives me a smile as he turns to sit. I just look down to the table as my exam is placed in front of me. I hear Stiles sigh as he too turns back to his exam.

The chemistry exam was actually pretty easy, though I can't help feeling that the fact that I thought it was easy is because I failed it.

I push the thought from my mind as I start my car and back out of my parking spot. I turn the radio on just as "One More Night" by Maroon 5 comes on. I roll down the windows and the resulting winds sweeps my hair all around me.

I find myself thinking about Jake and our 'date' this Saturday, though I'm not sure how I'm going to get my mom to agree. She's always been a stickler when it comes to anything with the word 'party' in it. To her, parties mean beer, drugs, and mistakes.

Even when I was twelve, she was reluctant to let me go to my friend's birthday parties, though for different reasons than booze, I'm sure.

I'll have to ask her at the perfect time, when she's in a really good mood…. Which would be after Saturday morning ballet class; if I practice really well, maybe she'll actually let me go.

I nod my head; that's my plan, I'll ask after practice.

I turn onto my street and back up into my driveway.

Two days until Saturday, two exams each tomorrow and Friday. After that, I'm officially a senior.

I smile as I roll my windows back up and turn my car off.

I can do this.

Thursday and Friday sped by in a blur; I'd taken the last of my exams, the boys had once again won States last night, and here I am, Saturday morning, staring at my alarm clock. 9:30 A.M.

I smile, and jump out of bed. My mom's class begins at 10:00 and ends at 11:30. I walk to my dresser and dig through my clothes until I find my light pink tights and matching leotard. I slip my tights on and then pull my leotard up my legs.

I find the small fabric skirt and tie it around my waist, "Tutus are reserved for performances and recitals." My mother's always said.

I pull my brown hair back into a perfect bun and then grab my ballet slippers from my closet, I lace the strings up my legs and tie them in a bow on the back of my calves. I hear the sound of laughing from my basement, along with the greetings of my mother's pupils, no doubt.

I make my way downstairs and from there into the basement, or as my mom calls it, 'the studio'. I walk into the brightly lit room, the wooden floor gleams perfectly, a full length mirror lines one wall, a balance bar running along against the mirror.

The other girls notice my entrance and begin greeting me, "Enough! Girls, get into position." My mom stands in the center of the room, dressed in all black; black tights, black leotard, even black ballet slippers. She does this so she stands out as the instructor.

We all rush to the balance bar, and from there, it feels just like I'm going through the motions; I don't think, don't hear, I just do.

The girls make their ways out, leaving me alone in the studio with my mom. "You did very well today, darling," she says as she turns to make her way back up the stairs, "though your form was waning towards the end."

I follow her up the stairs closely, "Yeah, I've got to work on that," I say, simply trying to get on her good side, "hey I was wondering," we make it up the stairs and my mom turns back to face me, her blue eyes piercing into me, "Jackson's having a party tonight," her stare is cold and harsh, I find myself looking at the ground as I speak, "and I was wondering if I could go."

When she doesn't respond right away, I look up, her face is puzzled, "Jackson, as in the lacrosse boy, Jackson?" I nod my head and she sighs, "No, I'm sorry, Avery, maybe another night." She turns away from me, a lump forms in my throat.

"You always say that," I let slip out as little more than a mumble.

My mom stops dead, and slowly turns around. "What was that?" If there's one thing my mother hates, it's back-talk.

But it's too late now, she already heard me, so backing down is not an option. "You always say that," I say louder, "but it never actually happens."

She comes to stand in front of me, "It's for your own good, I've heard some interesting things about that Jackson from the other moms at your lacrosse games, and you won't be going to any party of his. Are we clear?"

I don't say anything, I just turn away and make my way back to my room. I throw myself on my bed, trying my best not to just scream. My phone starts ringing and I reach over and snatch it from my nightstand.

I answer it without looking, "Hello?" I mumble.

"Hey, so are we on for tonight or what?" Jake asks on the other end.

I give my hair another ruffle and check myself out one last time in the mirror. My pale blue close fitting dress hugs my curves, giving me a satisfactory figure. My push up bra is definitely working, too, my boobs look amazing under the sweetheart neckline.

I grab my black jacket and tuck my phone in its pocket along with my car keys. I pull on my pair of nude booties and then turn to my window. I've never done anything like this, but after another disappointing end to the season, and dealing with my drill sergeant of a mother day after day, I think I deserve a little break.

I've let my mom decide everything way too long, the only thing I have that she doesn't control is lacrosse, it's about time for me to start deciding for myself. And tonight I say: I'm going to Jackson's party.

I toss my jacket into the bushes below, and then brace myself for the jump. I hop out of the window and land smoothly in the small gap between the bushes. I grab my jacket and then jog to my car.

I throw the door open and quickly start the engine, I peel out of the driveway and down the street. I'm sure my mother heard it, I'm sure she'll kill me, I'm sure I'll be grounded until I go to college, but that problem can wait till tomorrow, because for right now, I'm free.

I come to a stoplight and my phone vibrates, I reach over into my jacket's pocket and bring my phone to my face.

Incoming call: Jake Reily

I smile and answer it, "Hey," I say as the light turns green.

"Hey, I'm at the party, where are you?"

"On my way." I say with a smile on my face, I can feel the adrenaline in my veins, realizing I'd just seriously snuck out. That, for me, is a huge deal, which is kind of sad coming from a seventeen year-old girl, this is the most rebellious thing I've done.

Maybe I can fix that tonight.

"I don't understand why I couldn't just come pick you up," Jake says unhappily.

"I needed to make a quick exit, I'll explain later," I say quickly.

"Alright, I'll meet you out front then." I hit the 'end' button and toss the phone into the passenger seat.

I park halfway down the street since there's hardly any space near Jackson's house that isn't taken. I walk up the street and find Jake waiting for me at the end of the driveway. He gives me a quick kiss and takes my hand in his as we walk to the front door.

"So why couldn't I pick you up again?" I give a mischievous grin.

"Because, I had to sneak by mom to get here." He chuckles and gives a smile of his own.

"Oh, watch out we've got a badass over here," he says as he leads me through the door and into the party. The place is packed, everywhere I look there's a couple making out, some friends dancing together, an awkward conversation being had, and in everyone's hand is either a beer can, a red solo cup, or even a bottle of vodka.

"Hey, I'm working on it." I say, trying to pretend like I'm perfectly comfortable in my surroundings.

Jake leads me to the backyard, where a big stereo blasts "Infra-red" by Placebo. The lyrics of the song fill the air.

"One last thing before I shuffle off the Planet,

I will be the one to make you crawl,

So I came down to wish you an unhappy birthday,

Someone call the ambulance, there's gonna be an accident"

He lets my hand go as he bends down to grab two beers from a cooler full of ice. He holds the can out to me, and I take it with a smile.

He opens his and takes a big sip, I just look down at it as if it's a foreign object. "What?" he asks, "You don't drink?"

Ah, fuck it.

I open the can quickly and take a gulp.

The taste is nasty, but I force a smile on my face as I look up into his grey eyes, "I do now." He gives me a big smile as he leans in to kiss me.


A sliding sound wakes me up, I look to see a figure crawling through my window and onto my bed. I jump up and off my bed, letting out a loud scream. The figure tries to stand up on my bed but stumbles and falls off onto the floor.

"Scott! Scott! It's me!" Stiles looks up at me and jumps up. He pushes the hood of his grey sweatshirt back and straightens his jeans out.

I breathe a sigh of relief, "What are you doing!?" I yell, looking to my alarm clock, "It's 3 in the morning, Stiles!" I give him a small push back, but he brushes by me to my door.

He opens it and motions for me to follow, "C'mon, Scott you've got to see this." Is all he says as he steps out and practically runs down the stairs into my living room. I follow him quickly.

He paces frantically around my living room, his eyes searching for something. "What? What is it, Stiles?" I say, my voice growing steadily more panicked.

Stiles snatches the T.V. remote from the coffee table and then turns toward me, "My dad hasn't come home yet, so I turned on the police radio I took," his eyes are unusually dull, his lids seem to droop, something's really wrong, "and, well, look," he pushes the power button and the T.V. flips on.

"For those just joining us tonight, there's been a car crash on Woodley road involving a confirmed Beacon Hills high school student," a woman reporter says with a concerned look on her face, in the background is Beacon Hills general hospital, police cars line the parking lot, lighting the darkness with flashes of red and blue, "girls varsity lacrosse star Avery Chastings is believed to have been behind the wheel," Avery's lacrosse picture comes on the screen and my heart drops, "police aren't sure what caused the crash but it appears that Chastings' car swerved off the road and collided with a tree."

I look over to see Stiles biting his nails as he stares at the screen. I open my mouth to speak, but Stiles holds up a finger to stop me, "Chastings is said to be in critical condition, we have no information on whether alcohol or speed were factors in this crash." I grab the remote and turn the T.V. off.

I sit down on the couch, "Is she gonna be okay?" I ask, I've never really known Avery that well, other than the occasional conversation in chemistry about ionic bonds. Stiles shrugs.

"They were saying on the radio earlier that she didn't look so good." I let out a heavy breath.

Author's Note: Like I said, I'm really bad at beginnings, next chapter is going to start up right where this one ends. In later chapters I'll be able to give a better picture of Avery's character. I'm still working on a main storyline besides the aftermath of the crash and all that, but I've got a couple good ideas!   

Chapter Text


"Do they know what happened? Have they said anything over the radio?" Stiles reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out the heavy black police radio.

"Not much," he mumbles as he drops down onto the couch beside me, "they were busy trying to get Avery out of the car."

"They couldn't just pull her out?"

Stiles shakes his head, "They said she was losing too much blood to move her right away, the EMTs had to stop some of the bleeding first." Stiles flips the radio on and then the voices of Beacon Hill's policemen fill the room.

"Any word on the girl's condition?" A woman's voice comes on the radio.

After a moment, a response comes in, "She's still in surgery," Stiles's dad says in a tired voice, "nurses say she's got some internal bleeding, they're working on that now but it'll be a while before we know whether or not she'll pull through." The static from the radio makes everything all the more harsh, all the more surreal.

Silence fills the room before the woman comes back on, "Did you get a good look at her before she went into surgery?"

"Good enough, why?" Stiles's dad asks with an edge in his voice.

"Something's not right here, Sheriff," the woman sighs, "I'm at the scene now, but it just doesn't add up, the car is completely totaled, the passenger's side is crushed in," the woman pauses, I can almost see her peeking into the passenger's side as she continues, "but the driver's side has barely any damage."

Sheriff Stilinski

"but the driver's side has barely any damage." I hold my radio up to my face, the volume is low in an effort to keep people from hearing it. I look up and make eye contact with a nurse behind the front desk as she tries to listen in to the radio. She quickly turns away and makes herself look busy.

I push off the wall I've been leaning on for about an hour and a half now and make my way into an empty room. I close the beige door behind me but don't bother flipping the light on. Light pours in from the window, the parking lot lights and flashing police car lights reflect into the plain room.

I walk in and sit at the foot of the white-sheeted bed, I rub my forehead, there's some days I wish I wasn't Sheriff, "What're you getting at, Kelly?"

Kelly is our department's accident reconstruction expert, if she says something's off, then it's either she's right or the evidence is wrong in my book. She's been through a hell of a lot with me and she's a skilled investigator. She knows what to look for, where to find it, and who to go to for information.

"There's blood all over both of the front seats, not just the driver's side. I think there was someone else in the car." I let out a deep sigh, this complicates things.

I run my finger over the push-to-talk button and press it, "You're saying that the passenger's side is completely crushed in, right?" I watch the red and blue lights as they dance around the room's walls.

"Roger that." Kelly says flatly. "But from the looks of the passenger's side, no one could've walked away from an impact like that." My eyes go wide in realization of what Kelly is getting at.

This time I slam the talk button in, "You think she was in the passenger's seat when the car crashed?"

"Exactly." I run my hand through my short hair and let out another heavy breath.

"Tow the car back to the station after you're done with the scene, there's nothing more we can do tonight but pray that she makes it." I look out the window to see another news van roll into the lot. "We'll get the forensic team to examine the car in the morning."

"One more thing, Sheriff," Rob's voice comes on the radio, "there's some reporters out here waiting for you to have a conference." I hate press conferences, there's never anything I can tell them besides 'I can't disclose that information,' or 'it's still an ongoing investigation,'

I walk to the window to see a few reporters along with their cameramen standing closely behind a few of my men that I brought with me to keep the press out of the hospital. "I'll be down in a minute." I turn back, pull the door open and walk out of the room.

When I walk back into the waiting room a woman with dark red hair is sitting in one of the chairs talking on the phone. Her hair is nearly perfect, though her eyes are red and her cheeks are tear-stained. "I don't know, Joe!" she whispers in a stern tone.

The woman pauses for a response on the other end before talking again, "I'm not sure, all I know is she was in an accident and they're working on her now." I realize that this must be Avery's mother, I walk and stand in front of her, she looks up and whispers to me, "Just a second."

I nod and take the chair across from hers, "I'm not sure, listen I have to go, the Sheriff is here, you get your ass on the first flight to California, I'm not sure what's going to happen." The woman's voice shakes as her eyes fill with tears. She flips her phone closed as she throws it back into her purse.

"I take it you're Mrs. Chastings?" I ask in a soft voice.

She shakes her head, "Avery's father and I divorced years ago, I go by my maiden name, Reese."

I give a small nod, "Ms. Reese, I'm terribly sorry, I know this must be difficult, but what can you tell me about the last time you saw Avery? Did she say she was going somewhere with anyone? Did she have any plans?"

Ms. Reese wipes her eyes with her hand, "She asked earlier if she could go to some party, but I-I can't remember the name…" Ms. Reese brings her hand up and rubs her forehead, she's visibly shaking and her skin seems abnormally pale. "I can't remember," her face goes from white to red in a matter of seconds as she begins to sob "I'm sorry, it's just everything's so…uncertain right now."

I stand up and walk to her, I kneel down so that she looks at me, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be asking this right now, listen, you try and remember the name and when you do," I reach into my coat pocket and hand her my card, "you call me, alright?" The woman just nods her head as she takes the card from my hand.

I give her a quick hug and leave for the press conference. Normally I'd push for an answer, but I know what she's going through, at least to a lesser degree.

I can never keep tabs on Stiles, and during those crazy 'mountain-lion' attacks a few months ago, I couldn't stop worrying that I would show up to one of the scenes and see Stiles laying there, dead.

But I guess that's the burden of being a parent, constantly worrying about where they are, what they're doing, who they're with, and I guess now for Ms. Reese, whether or not she'll be able to see her little girl again.

I brace myself as I step through the hospital's automatic doors and hear the reporters all begin calling out questions of the accident, Avery's condition, and the investigation.

It's going to be a long night.


"But what can we do?! They probably won't even let us in!" Scott calls out behind me, but I ignore him as I unlock my old jeep's door. I climb in the driver's seat and Scott slides in the passenger's side. I turn on the engine and fasten my seatbelt.

"We're going to check up on my dad, isn't your mom working the late shift?" Scott nods.

"Yeah, but whenever stuff like this happens she gets real upset."

"Well that settles it, then, I'm going to see how my dad is doing and you're going to see if you're mom's okay. That is, unless you have something better to do…?" Scott sighs and puts his seatbelt on. I pull out the radio again and reach to flip it on-

"We need to talk." A voice says in the back seat. Scott and I jump at the same time, taking in sharp breaths, my eyes snap up to the rear view mirror to see a pair of green eyes staring back at me. Scott flips around in his seat as I let out a relieved breath.

"What the hell are you doing in my Jeep!?" I say, grabbing my chest as my heart tries to get back in its natural rhythm.

"I've been here for a minute or so, you two were just too wrapped up in each other to notice." Derek says in his usual aggravated tone.

"We're busy, Derek, can't it wait?" Derek's eyebrows push together in confusion.

"Where are you going at four in the morning anyway?" Scott sighs and turns back around. I catch his gaze and he nods his head to the police radio. I reach and flip it on.

"To the hospital," I say as I put my Jeep in drive and pull out of Scott's driveway.

"Tow truck just arrived; we're loading the car on now." Kelly's voice comes on the radio along with some scratchy static.

"Good, the sun will be up in a couple hours, we can get a better look at the entire scene then, Sheriff said he wanted that road blocked off till we're done searching the area so set up a road block on Hickory street on both ends." Rob says with a flat tone. I look back to see Derek listening intently to the radio.

"What're they talking about?" Derek says in a confused voice.

"A girl from our school was in an accident tonight, no one knows what happened yet," My dad's voice comes on the radio.

"Shhh! Scott shut up!" I turn the nob up on the radio and pull up to a red light as my dad's voice cuts through the static with news.

"The Doctor just came out, she's stable, though she's still considered to be in critical condition; they were able to stop the internal bleeding but there was some serious trauma to her head, she slipped into a coma about a half hour ago while she was in surgery."

Scott and I look at each other with matching looks of worry. "Friends and family are allowed to visit, but make sure no reporters or journalists get in; they'll pull anything to get a leg up on each other and I don't want this poor girl's family being hounded during all this."

I look to Scott, "That settles it; we're going to see her." Scott nods in agreement.

We barely know Avery, besides a couple small conversations in chemistry and that time I ran into her on the sidewalk, but it just seems like the right thing to do right now. Scott seems to have realized this too since he hasn't put up any more protests.

"Who is she?" Derek asks in a less demanding voice than usual.

"Her name is Avery Chastings." I say flatly. I don't like the fact that he for some reason is coming along with us, and especially don't like that he's asking all these questions like it actually matters to him.

Scott elaborates on my curt answer, "She's a grade older than us, played on the girl's lacrosse team, I think she was committed to play for Maryland." Scott looks over to me, "I guess that's over now, though."

"You don't know that, Scott, she could snap out of it and get better." Scott gives me a doubtful look, but offers no argument. I look in the rearview mirror to see Derek giving me the same look. I clench my jaw as I turn into the hospital's parking lot.


We pull into the lot and see a small mob of reporters and cameras, a few policemen stand guard behind some metal gates that are set up in front of the entrance. Scott and Stiles unbuckle their seatbelts and get out. I open my door and step out as Stiles makes his way around the crappy Jeep of his. "Oh, no, no, no, you stay here." He points to the Jeep.

"And do what exactly?" I ask in annoyance.

"Watch the Jeep like a good guard dog." I give a growl as I brush by him. He sighs and follows with Scott. We walk to the police line and Stiles runs ahead. "Dad!" one of the men turns and Stiles jogs over.

Scott and I make it over to hear them in the middle of their conversation, "You'll have to make it short, there's a couple kids in there already to visit, but it'd be best to make it short." Stiles's dad says.

The Sheriff gives me a wary look before asking Stiles why I'm here. I roll my eyes as Stiles tells him I'm here for the STD clinic. The sheriff looks back to me with pursed lips.

Fuck you, Stiles.

Scott tries to hold in a laugh next to me and I try to hold back a fist to his face.

The police let us pass and we enter the hospital quickly. Stiles asks the nurse what room Avery is in and she informs him that she's on the second floor in the ICU. We walk to the elevator and step inside, dull music plays in the background as we go up.

Stiles waits impatiently right in front of the elevator door, I come to stand right behind him. "Hey Stiles," his head turns into my palm as I slam his head into the metal door, "you know what that's for, too."

The doors open and Stiles falls out and onto the floor. I walk out into the waiting room as Stiles scrambles to his feet with Scott trailing behind. I stand to the side of the front desk as Stiles asks once again where his friend's room is. I can't help but smirk as a red mark forms on his forehead.

That's what you get.

In the far corner of the waiting room I pick up a conversation between a policeman and a young blonde girl, "She never goes to parties, who told you she did?" The blonde asks in a shaky voice.

"It doesn't matter, do you know of any parties that were going on tonight? If you know anything we need to hear it," the policeman says in a firm voice.

The girl lets out a small whimper, "No, I don't know anything about a party." Her heartbeat quickens.

She's lying.

Stiles and Scott sign in on the visitor's clipboard and I lean on the counter as I listen more closely.

The policeman sighs, "Any problems you know about with her home life? Was there a reason she might've wanted to…..harm herself?"

The blonde looks at the man in disbelief, "You mean like suicide?" the man nods, "No!" the girl yells, causing a couple heads to turn in their direction, the girl notices the attention and then whispers, "Avery would never do that," she pauses to sweep a strand of her short hair from her eyes, "her mom can be really controlling, but she would never-"

Stiles's stubby fingers snap repeatedly right next to my ear, snapping my attention back to him, "-to go in, you stay here." He says at a mockingly slow pace, "Comprendé?"

I roll my eyes as walk to one of the empty chairs to get a better spot to eavesdrop. I focus back on the girl's voice, she's obviously getting more and more upset the longer she's questioned, her heartbeat stammers unsteadily.

"I don't know!" she says loudly, a sob breaks her words, her heart beats faster yet, "Please, I just want to go see her, she's my best friend!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Kline but the sheriff will want to talk to you first," the girl rolls her eyes and sucks in a deep breath before wiping her red cheeks with the sleeve of her Navy sweatshirt, "he should be up any minute, he had to go answer some questions from the press and make sure no reporters got in," the girl just nods, "just wait here, he'll be up soon."

The officer turns and walks away, leaving the girl alone. A group of teenagers sit in a row of chairs to my left, they look up to her when they realize their friend is done being questioned. The blonde just raises a finger as if to say, 'just a second'.

She digs her phone from her black purse and walks to look out the window on the far side of the room, she lifts the phone to her ear and waits. "Jake," her voice breaks, "I don't know where the fuck you are but as soon as you get this get your ass over to the hospital," the girl pauses as her voice grows thick with emotion, she breaths in and then adds, "we need to talk." She draws the phone away and then slips it back into her purse.

She walks back to the group of teens, all of them look to one another for something to say, but silence is all that is between them as the girl melts into the chair, sobs breaking from her chest as a boy holds her.

I stand and walk to the hallway where Scott and Stiles had left through; the two are far down the hall, their heads turning from left to right in search of the right room number. I begin walking fast down the hall, listening in to each room trying to find the one with the girl. The faster they both visit her, the faster we can leave, and the faster I can talk to Scott.

A woman's cold voice catches my attention in a room far down the hall, "I told you," she says sternly, "I told you not to go, but you didn't listen, and now look at you." I watch as Scott and Stiles turn into the room where the woman's voice is.

"Hi," Scott's voice begins, "we came to visit Avery," the woman sighs. I draw close to the room.

"Well, here she is," her voice is filled with nothing but bitterness, "excuse me." The woman's footsteps storm out of the room and out into the hallway. The woman's long, dark red hair creates a curtain as she looks down in her purse and pulls out a phone.

She brings it up to her ear and sweeps the hair from her face. She's maybe in her late thirties or mid-forties, though for having a daughter in the ICU, she looks surprisingly…..put together.

She gives me a passing glance as she begins talking on the phone.

I turn into Avery's room and see Stiles standing at one side of the bed and Scott at the other. Stiles's back hides my view of the girl, so I walk further in.

Scott's head snaps up from looking down at the girl, "Derek?" he asks in a confused voice.

Stiles spins around, "Oh, no, I told you to stay out there!" he says in a hushed tone, as if the girl would wake up if he spoke too loudly, and as I come to the foot of the bed, it's clear she won't be waking any time soon.

A periodic beep comes from a heart monitor, along with the rushes of air from an artificial ventilation system, meaning the machine is breathing for her. I recognize the equipment from when my Uncle was on it years ago after the fire.

"No, you need to go." Stiles says as he tries to get me to move to the door, I just glare back at him.

"Stiles, it's fine." Scott says flatly, Stiles just sighs and takes his place on the other side of the hospital bed. Normally he would've put up more of a fight.

I look back to the girl, only this time I focus on her, and not on the machines keeping her alive.

Long, light brown hair is splayed out over the bland white pillow beneath her, tubes seem to spill from her mouth, a small mask-like piece of plastic holds them all in place, covering her nose, mouth, and most of her chin and hiding them from view, making it impossible to see what she really looks like.

A large bandage covers her right temple, a red stain seeping through the pure white gauze. Red and pink scratches are scattered across her lightly tanned skin. The metallic scent of blood fills my senses, Scott must smell it too since his nose is crinkled by its strength.

The ventilator rhythmically sucks in and pushes air out of her lungs, a steady drip comes from the blood bag that is slowly filling her veins with the thick red liquid. Her slim wrists are strapped to the rails of the bed, to keep her from ripping the tubes out of her throat, were she to wake suddenly. But looking at this all, I doubt that's a possibility. An image of my Uncle's hospital room flashes into my head, it's like déjá vu.

Everything is a mirror image of my Uncle's hospital room, the tubes, the ventilator, the smell of rusty metal. Everything's the same.

Except for her.

The machine beeps steadily, voicing that she's still alive. But her heartbeat is all I need to tell me that. It beats slowly, her body is trying hard to heal, trying to make the most of every pump of blood. I focus my sense on her, trying to get a sense of how much damage her body has taken.

It's an extra sense, useful for gauging the life left in both werewolves and humans alike.

I feel a stab of pain to my temple, matching up with the wound on her forehead. Next I feel a crippling throb to my right leg, almost to the point to my leg caving out from under me. I draw my focus away from that injury and then feel a slow pain at my heart, as if it's giving out slowly.

I look over to see Scott grabbing at his heart, a pained look on his face. Younger werewolves are always more sensitive to the pain, their bodies aren't used to having the sense. "She's not going to make it, is she?" he turns to me.

I focus back on the girl, though this time I try to get a feeling from her, I try…..connecting to her in a way, to see if there's anything left in her.

When I tried with my Uncle, there was never anything there, towards the end, I stopped trying, but then he turned out to be alive and well…

"She's trying to fight it," I say after a moment, her body is weak, but she's still in there. I can sense it.

Stiles turns around, concern clear on his face, "She's trying? Well, is she gonna make it or not?"

"I don't think so." Footsteps draw into the doorway and we all three turn to see Melissa McCall walk in, three syringes in her hands.

"Scott? Stiles?" she says, sadness clearly in her voice as she walks to the side of the bed. Stiles moves and gives her room to work. "Was she a friend of yours?" she asks them after they don't respond.

"She was in our chemistry class," Scott says quietly.

Melissa lifts the I.V. and injects each of the three drugs into the girl's veins. "This poor girl," Melissa says, shaking her head, "we just sent her blood work off to the lab, hopefully we'll figure out what happened to her soon."

Four more figures appear in the doorway, the teenagers from the waiting room make their way in. The blonde girl that was answering questions covers her mouth and inhales deeply when she sees Avery.

Scott, Stiles and I all take that as a cue to leave. Melissa finishes her work and meets them out in the hall. I decide to take my leave while the three of them are talking about how they got here and whether Stiles's dad knows he's here or not.

I make my way back to the elevator and lean against the back wall, closing my eyes as I listen to the music that hums in the background, as I listen, flashes of Avery cross my mind.

"Stars shining bright above you,

Night breezes seem to whisper, 'I love you',

Birds singing in the sycamore tree,

Dream a little dream of me."

I wonder how long it'll be till her heart just gives out, her body took too much damage; her heart just can't keep up.

The doors open and I step out into the lobby. I make my way to the side of the hospital and from there into the woods. On the police radio, they said they were blocking off Hickory street; an old back road that cuts through the woods.

If I hurry, I can make it before the sun rises completely so the cops won't be able to see me. I let the wolf take over, let him lead me through the woods and to Hickory street.

Why Scott calls this a curse, I'll never know. I've always loved the feeling of running through the woods, giving in to something so primal, letting my senses guide me. I've always loved the wolf within me.

Before I know it, I'm at the side of the road, the flashing red and blue lights of police cruisers light up the woods around the old road, making it difficult to stay out of sight.

I use the trees for cover as I draw closer to a badly damaged tree, the bark of it ripped off on one side, nearly falling over. The smell of blood fills my senses, the same blood I smelled on Avery. But there's something else, something I've been finding too much lately.

I follow the scent back a few feet, right before the crash would've been. Five deep claw marks are etched into the trunk of the tree, a familiar scent lingers at its base.

"Fuck," I cuss under my breath. I take off back through the woods towards my house as I go over things in my head.

I'd wanted to talk to Scott for a reason tonight, there's a new werewolf running around Beacon Hills, it's not a scent I recognize but it's been popping up all over my woods lately, as far as I can tell, it's another alpha.

Which means Avery might've seen it on the edge of the road, and swerved to try to miss it, making her crash… or the werewolf might've more….directly caused the crash.

Either way, she'll be dead soon enough, so that's a pointless lead.

The sun begins to rise slowly over the forest, telling me I've been up for a straight 24 hours.

I make it to my front porch and swing my door open and shut it behind me. I make my way up the stairs and to the back of the house where my room is.

I've been slowly rebuilding the house, so far I only have my room, the kitchen, and the upstairs bathroom fixed up, but that's all I need for now.

I walk into my room and grab some clothes from my dresser before making my way into my bathroom. I take a quick shower, though my head still races with thoughts of the accident, this possible alpha running around, I shut the water off and step out of the shower, grabbing a towel and quickly drying off.

I throw on a plain charcoal T-shirt and black sweatpants and make my way back to my room. I'd been out all night trying to find this alpha, but never caught a whiff of it, so I'd gone to tell Scott to keep a look out, though now my eyes ache with need of sleep.

I close the curtains over the windows, casting the room in darkness. I lay back in my bed and quickly find sleep.

A snarl wakes me up, and I sit up to find myself in a hospital bed, I look around for the source of the sound. A curtain to my left separates my bed from the one just across from me. A shadow sits up painfully slow and slides off the bed, coming ever closer to the thin curtain.

A wicked snarl rips from the figure as it comes to stand right behind the curtain, ready to attack.

I tear the curtain back, only to find a girl staring back at me. Her light brown hair drapes over her shoulders, framing her tanned face perfectly, a ghost of a smile plays at her full lips, two deep blue eyes seem to look right through me.

She wears a tight black dress, revealing a wide pair of hips, slender waist and generous breasts.

"Don't leave me." She says as she hikes her dress up and comes to place one leg on either side of my hips. "Don't leave me." She says again as she leans down to me, my arms encircle her waist, pulling her against me, her breath trickles over my lips.

She leans in and kisses me, slow at first, then speeding up, deepening the kiss her tongue slips into my mouth. She rips my arms from her waist and pins them on either side of my head, I let her lean in to my neck, she trickles light kisses down to my collar bone, "Don't let me die."

She leans back up, her deep blue eyes now blazing gold, and two fangs biting at her bottom lip as she looks down at me, her eyes half lidded. Her fingertips trail down my chest, leaving deep scratches where they travel. "Please, Derek."

Author's Note: The song in the elevator is "Dream a little dream of me" by Mama Cass Eliot I don't own the song or anything so yeah...

I know Avery's mom kinda went from hysterical to completely stoic real fast but it's cuz her mom is a controlling crazy lady. I'm pretty sure she's bipolar but who knows?

Chapter Text

Author's Note: Okaaayy so this chapter is super ultra mega long... sorry about that.

Now we're gonna start getting deeper into the story I think in the next chapter, but for now everyone's still dealing with the impact of the crash (no pun intended).

I had trouble staying focused on writing this chapter, so sorry it took so long! I mention the song "No Games" by Breaking Benjamin in this chapter, so when it comes up I would encourage you guys to go listen to it.

Also, I got some inspiration from the song "Words" by Skylar Grey, it's the scene towards the very end when Tori is in the hospital room.

One last thing, sorry if there's any grammar errors, this chapter was really long and I kinda didn't edit it that much :X

Anyway, enjoy!

Melissa McCall

I walk into the break room looking for my keys, when I'd been paged for an ambulance drop off I'd been on my break and I might've left my keys on the table, though that seems like forever ago. I hastily undo my bun, which is beginning to fall out, and quickly make it up into a pony tail.

The room is cluttered with small round tables and chairs, a few vending machines are tucked away in a corner in the back of the pale blue room, adding the only bit of brightness of the space in the form of a picture of a soda can surrounded by ice, as well as the colorful wrappers of candy bars that are lined up in cold metal rings, just waiting to be bought by an exhausted nurse or doctor. Though I doubt anyone really has much of an appetite tonight.

Shirley and Dr. Hughes sit at one table talking, at the table next to them, my keys sit shining under the harsh fluorescent lights. Shirley and I had been on hand to help Dr. Hughes in the O.R., though Shirley was the one who had gotten more hands-on, or hands-in, during the surgery. I just handed Dr. Hughes what she asked for as she worked.

I cross the room, ignoring the ruffling of my scrubs as I walk, and grab my keys as Shirley looks up and offers me a small smile meant as a 'hello'. Her twenty-something year old face looks strangely old, small wrinkles cover her face. She only started here a few months ago, she hasn't had much experience with this kind of thing, and, living in Beacon Hills, I can't say I have either.

Dr. Hughes turns and continues speaking, to the both of us now, "I've seen this very same thing many times." She says in continuation of their conversation before I'd come in. Dr. Hughes is in her mid-fifties, she's a slim, petite woman, but she speaks with a firm authority that seems to fill a room with order. She'd transferred here a few years ago from some big hospital in Seattle looking for less 'commotion'.

Shirley's eyes seem to droop, "And?" she asks with interest.

Dr. Hughes seems pleased at the chance to demonstrate her years of experience, "Usually the heart just gives out," she says with the tiniest shrug that seems to say, 'a fact's a fact', "or they just never wake up."

I rub my forehead and begin backing away, "Hey, I'm gonna get going," I say as the two women look to me, "see you tomorrow?" Shirley nods.

"Graveyard shift as always." She says with a smile. I turn and walk to the door, "Have a good day!" Shirley's voice calls as I step out of the break room and into the waiting room.

Nervous faces all look up at me as Shirley's words seem to echo through the room. I nonchalantly check my watch for an excuse not to look at the hollow eyes that eventually turn back to their nervous searching. 6:25 A.M.

I don't think it's gonna be a good day for anyone.

Scott pushes himself from one of the seats and comes to stand in front of me, the slightest of smiles on his lips as he asks, "Ready to go, mom?" I sigh and nod.

Stiles left when his dad did about an hour ago, and Scott just decided to wait for my shift to end. We walk out of the waiting room slowly, neither one of us speaking as we crossed the room filled to the brim with anxiety and cold reality.

Once we make it to the elevator, Scott sighs heavily. I look over at him, his curly hair is in a mess and his brown eyes seem heavier than usual. "Were you two friends?" I ask, resting my head back against the wall of the elevator.

Scott doesn't say anything, he just shakes his head. I take a deep breath and look back to the stainless steel doors as we are lowered to the main level. I want nothing more than to go home and take a long hot shower to wash this shift away.

The doors open and we step out into the lobby of the hospital. I quickly go and scan my I.D. and clock myself out. We make our way out of the automatic doors and to the front of the hospital, a few different stations have their news vans parked out front, one or two reporters are speaking into a microphone and looking into a camera.

I can only imagine how long these reporters will be hounding the poor girl, if she makes it that is.

The reporters see my scrubs and a few of them begin calling out questions to me, though even if I did know the answers I wouldn't tell these parasites just looking for a new story. Luckily I parked right out front the entrance today, safely behind the police perimeter of the entrance.

Scott slides in the passenger seat and I take my place behind the wheel.

We drive along in silence, with my mind wandering back to the surgery and how we had to use the defibrillators once to start her heart back up again. Dr. Hughes said that was when she slipped into the coma. I look over from the road to see Scott staring out the window looking at the passing houses.

The sun is rising steadily, pouring bright sunlight into the car, and revealing more than I'd like. In the rearview mirror I can see the reflections of my eyes, which are heavy and unhappily baggy too. I shake the thought away, and focus on the road. Three stoplights and a painfully long silence later, I put the car in park outside our house.

I unlock the door and Scott and I walk in, I head to the kitchen, and Scott begins climbing the stairs, taking two steps at a time to reach the top. I turn back, "Hey, Scott,"

He turns back to me, his face still heavy. When he makes no move to come back down, I add, "C'mere for a second." He says nothing, just strides back down the steps and comes to stand in front of me, his hair falling just over the tops of his eyes, as if to hide them from view.

I unconsciously bring my hands up and sweep the hair from his eyes as I speak, "Promise me you'll always be careful, hmm?" I hold his face in my hands for a second, just staring at him. He gives me the quickest of smiles before nodding his head.

"Yeah, of course, mom." I force a smile on my face as I feel tears threatening to break my fragile stability.

I lean in and give him a quick kiss on the forehead and a small slap on the cheek. I don't trust my voice, if I speak, I know my voice will crack or break. I just turn away and head for the kitchen. I hear his footsteps stomp back up the stairs and I lean against the kitchen counter.

Tears finally spill over.

If it was Scott in that bed…. I don't know what I'd do. Scott's all I have….. he's my baby.

And now some poor mother is gonna lose her baby.

I try to hold back a ragged breath, but it just pours out and before I know it, a full sob breaks from my chest. I squeeze my eyes closed and wipe the tears away. I clear my throat and walk to the fridge and pull it open, sending waves of cold air over my hot face, helping to calm me. I grab a water bottle and take a long, refreshing drink.

I shut the fridge, put the lid back on the bottle, and wipe my cheeks with my hand. Tears are just behind my eyes, but I force them back. Scott has seen me cry too much already.

During the divorce, I was a wreck, Scott was only a kid, and he saw me cry and sob and whine, he saw me when I was pathetically vulnerable. I swore to myself I'd never let him see me like that again. I couldn't let him see me like that again.

I splash some cool water from the sink over my face and steady my breathing before I make my way upstairs and into the shower. I pass by Scott's room and see his door is closed.

I smile, remembering his little pudgy cheeks and big brown eyes looking up at me and whispering, "Don't cry mom, you have me."

Never again.


I sit on the edge of my bed, my elbows resting on my knees and my head resting in my hands. I listen closely as my mom walks into the kitchen, I can hear her footsteps suddenly come to a stop as her heartbeat picks up, suddenly a sob breaks the silence.

I fall back on the bed, just listening to the sniffs and deep breaths my mom takes in an effort to calm herself. This is what always happens when something like this happens.

She puts on a tough face, never showing anything more than what I always see from her. But once we're home, once she's alone, she breaks down. I know she tries to hide it from me, and I let her think I don't notice, but I do.

I close my eyes as I hear the faucet turn on downstairs, and listen as her light footsteps make their way upstairs.

Truth is, my mom is one of the toughest people I know. And her glare of disapproval can practically burn your eyebrows off too.

I wish I could help her sometimes, help make her feel like she's not alone. But I know this is how she wants it, so I let it be.

The sound of the shower running acts as a lullaby as I slip off to sleep.

Cheryl Reese

"You're sure, Ms. Reese?" The young officer asks with his eyebrows raised high.

"Yes," I say, my voice showing my annoyance at his hesitation, "I remember it now; she wanted to go to a party at Jackson Whittemore's." The officer nods and takes a few steps back as he begins speaking into his police radio.

I take a few steps back and turn back to the room, pulling the wooden door open with only a little trouble. I step inside to see Lewis at the side of Avery's bed. He looks up with a questioning look on his face, "And?"

I come to stand at the head of the bed, I look to Avery and reach out to run my hands through her long hair, pulling it to the side of her face and tucking it behind her ear. "I think they're going there now."

I look back to Lewis, his dark brown eyes looking me over and then resting on Avery. Lewis and I have only been dating for about three months now, and Avery hasn't taken to him very well, but he's a sweet man and certainly one I'd like to keep in my life.

I catch my reflection in a small mirror of the table beside Avery's bed. My hair is frizzed and my eyes are small and tired looking. "Lewis, why don't we go get cleaned up and come back later?" I ask, rubbing my forehead.

Lewis remains seated, "Shouldn't we wait for Joe to get here?" he asks in a concerned tone.

The very mention of my ex-husband is enough to boil my blood, "He's going to call me when he lands; his plane was delayed. We'll pick him up and come back here later, I just ….." I take a deep breath, "I just need a little rest." Lewis nods as he stands and collects my purse and coat from the foot of the bed.

I lean down and kiss Avery on the forehead as a rush of air is pushed into her lungs. "I love you, Avery, we'll be back soon." I turn away and Lewis hands me my purse, I sling it over my shoulder as we walk out of the room. The officer steps forward to meet us.

"We're sending a car there now, ma'am." I give him a small smile and a quick nod.

"Thank you." I say as Lewis and I make our way back down the grey, colorless hallway.

Jake Reily

"I don't know where the fuck you are but as soon as you get this get your ass over to the hospital," Tori's voice shakes on the voicemail, my heart drops to my stomach as I read the banner scrolling across the bottom of the news: Beacon Hills high school student, Avery Chastings, left in coma after apparent car accident. "We need to talk."

My phone drops from my palm and lands on the couch cushion next to me. I scramble for the remote and turn the volume up louder than it needs to be.

"-officials are still investigating the scene of the accident and questioning those close to Chastings, trying to figure out just what happened-" the reporter says as he straightens a stack of papers on the large desk, he keeps speaking, but I can't hear him anymore, a picture of Avery in her lacrosse uniform comes up to the top left of the screen and I just stare at it as dread spreads through me.

I snap back to my phone and snatch it from the couch, I frantically push buttons and bring the phone back to my ear. As it rings I pace around the room and look out my window to the bright green grass of my front yard. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mo-"

"What?" Jackson asks with a tired slur in his voice.

"Hey! Uh- Jackson, I-uh was thinking about the party last night and I remember how trashed your house was by the end of it, so I thought I'd swing by and help you clean up! Can I come over now?"

"Reily," he says in an annoyed voice, "it's 10:40, I'm hung over, and you're annoying the shit outta me right now,"


I sit up in bed and pinch the bridge of my nose as I squeeze my eyes closed a couple times before opening them up wide. "-how trashed your house was by the end of it, so I thought I'd swing by and help you clean up!" I swing my legs over the side of my bed and stretch my back before making my way to my window and looking out.

"Can I come over now?" A white van sits in my driveway as one of the maids packs up the last of her stuff and shuts the back of the van.

"Reily," I say, letting my anger show in my voice, I look to the clock real quick, "it's 10:40, I'm hung over, and you're annoying the shit outta me right now." I watch as the van backs out and pulls away, "Besides, the maid just left, the place is all clean."

"Oh! That's great! Wait so, there's uh, no beer cans or anything laying around?" I roll my eyes.

"That's what a maid is for you idiot-" I stop dead as I watch a cop car pulls into my driveway where the white van had just been.

"Jackson? What is it?" The doors open up and two uniformed cops get out and begin walking to my door.

At least my parents aren't home…. I can handle this. I hope.

"I gotta call you back, a couple cops just pulled up." I say and I almost hit 'end' when Jake stops me.

"Wait! Jackson!" I stop and bring the phone back to my ear, Jake takes a deep breath and continues, "I did something last night, and I- I need your help bad, man." His voice is deep and serious.

"What the hell did you do, Jake?" I never call him by his first name, but then again, he never asks for help. From anyone.


Tori Kline

I slip the pink polka-dotted key into the shiny golden lock and turn it, giving the door a small push to get it past the jam it's had for as long as I can remember.

I take a step inside and just take a deep breath as I close the door behind me. The familiar deep red walls of the living room stand to my right through a high arch doorway. To my left is the stairs up to the second floor, I sigh and try to hold myself together as I walk to the bottom of the stairs and practically drag myself up them.

I hold on to the railing for dear life, my legs tremble unsteadily with each step as I force myself to keep it together and make it up to Avery's room. I push the door open slowly and fold my arms over my stomach as if the simple gesture will keep me from losing it.

Her clothes are scattered on the floor, just as always. Sports bras, lacrosse pinnies, jeans, dresses, you name it, it's on Avery's floor. She never seems to notice it really, though sometimes I wonder how she finds anything in this room.

I take a deep breath and walk to her bed, snatching the white fuzzy blanket off her bed and folding it quickly. I told my friends I'd drive myself home and try to get some sleep. Danny practically forced me into his car, insisting that I let him drive me to my house, saying I shouldn't be driving right now.

I had to swear to him I'd go straight home before he let me go. I feel bad for lying to him, but even if I try, I know I won't be able to sleep. I'd rather be at the hospital, and Avery could use some things from home. Hospital blankets are so thin, and the hospital itself is like a giant freezer.

And those pillows… so thin and flat.

I grab one of her lavender pillows from the top of her bed and toss it on top of the blanket. I take a quick look around the room and spot a silver picture frame with four different pictures of us in it. One is from spring break this year, when Avery and I rented a beach house for the week and got sun burns that made us look like lobsters.

The picture is before the sunburn, though. The two of us stand with one hand around each other's waist one hand on our hips as the waves roll in behind us, winding warm water around our ankles.

Another picture shows the two of us when we were maybe nine years old, in our Halloween costumes. We'd decided to be Disney princesses together that year. I'd decided to go as Aurora, since my long blonde hair looked just like hers. My pink dress draped around my feet and almost tripped me several times that night on our hunt for candy. Avery had gone as Belle, her brown hair was much darker when she was younger, and she really did look like the kid version of Belle. Her bright yellow dress was also too long, but she carried it better than I did.

The third photo is from prom this year, we stand with our dates behind us; Avery stands with her back up against Jake's chest, her deep blue dress highlighting her eyes perfectly. The green of my dress is matched by the green of Charlie's bow tie. Charlie and I didn't know each other well, we just went together mainly because there was no one left to go with. Jake and Charlie stand behind us, their hands wrapped around our hips with mine and Avery's hands holding them there.

The fourth picture is from last year after one of Avery's lacrosse games; her hair was up in a messy top bun that was practically falling out. She'd just played all game on midfield and she was exhausted, but when she looked up and saw me in the stands her face lit up and she just seemed so happy that I was there.

And I know why.

I push the thought from my mind and place the picture frame on top of the pillow. I take another look around the room and a lump forms in my throat as my eyes fill with tears.

I might a ctually lose my best friend.

I squeeze my eyes closed and shake my head as I wipe the tears from under my eyes. I can't think about that right now, or I'll never make it back to the hospital in one piece. I take a deep breath and walk over to the blanket, pillow, and picture neatly piled at the foot of her bed.

I scoop the pile into my arms and hold it close to my chest, as if they could fill the feeling of hollowness in me. I make my way back down stairs and out the front door, trying to get out as fast as possible to avoid breaking down completely. As soon as I make it outside, the fresh air clears my head, which is beginning to ache.

I begin walking back down the driveway to my car when another car pulls in and takes the spot next to mine. I can recognize Lewis's car from a mile away, it's a flashy ass Lexus SUV that just reeks of asshole. It's not that having a Lexus makes you an asshole, it's just Lewis, just the way he keeps it all shiny and perfect and...and..

He's just an asshole, okay?

I hold the bundle tight against my chest, feeling the picture's corners cut into me. Lewis steps out of the car and gives me a curt nod as he walks to the passenger side and pulls the door open, revealing Avery's mom, who keeps an icy glare in my direction as the two walk towards me on the walkway to the front porch.

"Ah, Tori," she says with a quick smile that isn't reflected in her tone, she looks at the pillow and blanket in my hands, "why are you here?"

I've always hated Avery's mom, she's always strutting around like she's the messiah, always with perfect hair and makeup and clothes and a snotty little smile on her face. Her eyes are only slightly puffy, and her cover up and mascara seems to have held up remarkably well from when I saw her at the hospital last.

Of course I wouldn't put it past her to do a quick touch up in the hospital bathroom, the vain bitch. Avery never complains about her, but that's because she's too good of a person to say how much of a self-centered hag she is.

I look down to the bundle in my arms, "I thought Avery would want some stuff from home," I look back up and into her eyes, anger rising steadily in me, "why are you here?" I look to Lewis, who is expertly avoiding eye contact with the both of us. His long-ish brown hair is pushed back, as if someone had run a hand messily through it, he's wearing his normal suit and tie assemble that just screams 'DICK FACE'.

Ms. Reese's upper lip twitches, she's obviously pissed at my question, but really, what the fuck is she doing here with her boyfriend when her daughter is in a fucking coma and could die?

Self. Centered. Bitch.

"I needed some rest," is all she offers for an answer as she pushes by me, I take a step back to steady myself. Lewis just sighs and gives a curt nod as he follows her like the spineless fucker he is.

God, I hate them.

I walk back to my car and set the stuff down in the passenger's seat before I slide in the driver's seat. I take a deep breath before backing out of the driveway and heading back to the hospital.


I turn and set my phone down on the top of my dresser as I practically rip one of the drawers from its track. I grab a random shirt from the drawer and throw it on over my head,. "Shit, shit, shit," I mumble under my breath as I push the curtains out of my way and look back to the police car in my driveway, two cops step out and begin walking towards my front door, one of them stares down the street at a car parked near my house.

I follow his gaze to the car, "Fuck, Reily…." His car is parked just a little ways down the street, and tire imprints cover the grass at the edge of my lawn by the side of the road. I know they're here to ask about the party, so telling them there was no party is pretty much out.

I need a story, and I need a story fast.

I step back from the window and run my hands through my hair as my mind races with lies.

I have to get rid of that damn car…

The doorbell rings through the house.

My breath still smells like beer, and I wish I had time to brush my teeth. I look around my room and find a pack of gum on my desk in the corner. I walk over and grab a piece and shove it into my mouth as the bell rings again.

I make my way down the stairs, my eyes searching the place for any signs of last night's party.

The place is spotless, not one beer can or bikini top covers the floor as they had last night. I take a deep breath to calm myself as I walk to the front door and pull it open. "Hi there," I say quickly, "what can I do for you, officers?" I ask, looking at their badges.

They look at each other with matching faces of suspicion. "You're Jackson, aren't you, son?" The one closest to me asks. I just nod in response, my mouth closes and I wait for him to continue, "I'm Officer Davis, this is Officer West. There was an accident last night, heard anything about it?"

I force a confused look on my face and shake my head, "No, what accident?"

"Mind if we come in for a minute?" The Officer West asks. I nod my head and step back, allowing the two of them to step inside. I close the door behind them, noticing hos their eyes roam over the place in search of….I don't know, evidence, maybe. Something to tell them Avery had been here last night.

I move past them towards the living room and the two follow close behind me, "Son, are your parents home?" I turn into the living room and motion for them to sit on the sofa. I notice the room doesn't smell like alcohol or weird body spray as it did last night, but it smells like ferbreeze…or something like it, anyway.

Gotta remember to give the maids a bigger tip next time…

"No, it's just me, they're off on a cruise around the Caribbean," I say as I take a seat in my dad's LaZboy chair across that sits diagonally from the couch where the officers sit, a coffee table barely separates us.

"I'm just gonna get right down to it, son," officer Davis begins, "Avery Chastings was involved in a car crash last night, she's in critical condition." Panic spreads through me as their eyes bare into me.

"Yeah-" I slap myself inwardly, they glance at each other for a split second, "that's terrible, is she gonna be alright?" their faces turn to stone in disbelief.


Game's up before it even started.

"They can't be sure." Is all Officer Davis says.

"They, uh," Officer West begins as he looks down at the coffee table, "they found alcohol in her system, almost double the legal limit."

"Don't bullshit us, son," Officer Davis says, an edge to his voice, "we know you had a party here last night, we saw the tire marks in the grass out front and we can go ask your neighbors right now, so your best bet is to tell the truth here, understand?" I give him a small nod.

"Good," he continues, "now from what we've heard Avery wasn't much of a party girl, what was she doing here? And don't even think about telling me she wasn't, her car was found on a road that leads back to this neighborhood and I'm willing to bet she came from your party. Now you cooperate with us and we might let the underage drinking slide for now."

I clear my throat, trying to find any lie I can.

But nothing comes.

"Yeah," I say in a sigh, "she was here, she normally doesn't go to parties, I think last night was the first time I saw her at one." Officer Davis's body relaxes a bit at that.

"Did she show up with anyone?" Officer West asks.

Flashes of last night cross my mind, Avery and Jake drinking and making out by the pool, suddenly my stomach feels uneasy at the thought of what Jake confessed on the phone. "No," I say, my attention snapping back to the two staring officers, "she showed up alone."

"Did she leave with anyone?"

"I did something last night,"

I shake my head, "I was busy with the party,"

"I- I need your help bad, man."

"I don't know if she left with anyone, I never saw her leave."

"Well, someone must've seen her leave!" Officer Davis says angrily.

"I don't know! Maybe! How am I supposed to know who saw her leave?"

"I'll tell ya' what," Officer West says, laying a hand on Officer Davis's shoulder, trying to calm him down, "you make us a list of everyone who came to this party, and we'll see what we can do for you, there's a fine for underage drinking, ya' know, the person whose property the drinking was taking place on would have to pay a fine for each minor that was under the influence."

"And I'm betting you don't want that going on your record," Officer Davis says as he and his partner stand, I stand with them and reach towards their outstretched hands, "or on your tab." He adds as he shakes my hand firmly.

They walk back to the front door, with me following close behind.

"Listen," Officer West says as he turns back around to face me, Officer Davis stands a few steps away, his hand locked around the doorknob, "write up that list for us, and if you think of anything that might be helpful, it'd be smart of you to call." He pulls a card out from his pocket and hands it to me. Officer Davis pulls the door open and steps out.

Officer West follows after him and I walk to stand at my door, watching as Officer Davis yanks the cruiser door open and gets in. Officer West stands on my porch and looks back down the street towards Jake's car. He turns and looks back to me, "Ya' know whose car that is parked over there?" He points to the car and I glance at it before turning back to him.

"Neighbor's car," his eyes flash with disbelief, "I'm always telling them to move it, but they keep parking there." He just nods and begins walking back to the cruiser before looking up at the sky and calling back to me.

"When're your parents getting home?" he asks.

"Not for another two weeks," I call back; he just nods his head and looks at the clouds that cover the sky.

"Well, be careful, there's supposed to be a big storm rolling in soon." I nod, "Get us that list, then call me." He climbs in the cruiser and I turn back into my house, push the door shut and lean up against it, trying to take in what just happened.

I listen closely to the two Officer's voices as the car slowly begins pulling out of my driveway, "He's hiding something." Officer Davis's voice says.

"Definitely." Officer West agrees. I hear the car take off down the road.

My head begins throbbing, whether it's from the hang over or the impending police charges I can't tell. I walk into the kitchen and pull out the Advil bottle from the top cupboard; I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and quickly swallow two tablets.

I make my way back upstairs to my room, as I walk in, my phone begins ringing.

Incoming Call: Reily

I hit 'answer' and bring the phone up to my ear, "What?" I ask, not bothering to hide my irritation.

"So?" Jake asks, "How did it go? Did they buy it? What did you say?" his questions run together.

"I told 'em she was here, and I didn't see who she left with, that's it."

"That's not it, it can't be." He says in disbelief, I sigh and rub my forehead.

"I'll tell you the rest later, for now, you can come get your fucking car off of my street."

"Come pick me up and I'll drive it back here." He says in a hesitant voice.

"Oh no, you come get it yourself, you owe me your ass for this shit."

What the fuck am I? A slave?

"Well how the hell am I supposed to get to your house?!" He asks desperately.

"Ride a bike, walk, that's not really my problem. Just come get your car before the cops run the plates and we both go to jail, hmm?" I hit the 'end' button and toss my phone onto my bed. I walk into my bathroom and turn on the shower to get the hot water running as Jake's voice runs through my mind, begging me not to tell the cops about what happened last night.


I sit up in my bed, my pulse still racing, sweat lightly coats my chest, I hear the sound of fabric tearing, I look down to see my hands clutching the sheets; my claws tore through them in seconds. I let go of the shredded sheets and slide my legs off the side of my bed. I put my face in my hands as I remember the dreams I'd had last night, dreams I haven't had since I was a teenager.

Each time, the same girl, the same light brown hair, the same deep blue eyes, the same sweet voice.

I look down at my lap and let out a frustrated growl.

This is pathetic.

I stand up and make my way back to the bathroom; I take off my sweatpants and turn on the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to heat up. Cold water is what I need right now anyway, especially with her voice still running through my head.

"Please, Derek."

I lean against the tiles of the shower wall as cold water runs down my back. I don't even know for sure who the girl in my dream was.

"Don't let me die."

But I have a pretty good guess.

I didn't get much sleep, the damned dreams woke me up three times from the time I fell asleep. Three separate dreams, the same girl.

The first had been at the hospital, I woke up from that when her voice spoke my name in a half moan, half beg.

The second was in the forest….

A full moon shines pale light down through the trees, casting black shadows on the forest floor. Everything is black and white, like in the old movies, except….except her.

She stands just a few feet away from me, though I'm not sure when she got there; her long brown hair and tanned skin seem to glow against the shadows of the woods. She's wearing a light blue dress that accentuates her breasts and hips, "Derek," she says in another breathy whisper that sends a shiver up my spine.

She closes the distance between us; I can feel her nails as they rake over my shoulders, even through the thick leather of my jacket. Before I know it, I'm pinning her up against a tree, her nails digging into my back as I lift her easily. She lets out a gasp as her back hits the trunk, I take advantage and crush my lips against hers; she moans as my tongue slips into her mouth.

She wraps her legs around my hips and runs her nails down my back as I get lost in the taste of her chapstick. Whether it's cherry or strawberry, I can't tell. I nearly let out a growl as she bites at my lower lip.

Suddenly a howl snaps me out of the haze; both of our heads turn towards the sound. The sound of rustling in the distance catches my attention; I focus on the noise as it grows closer and closer…

"Derek," her hand comes up to cup my jaw, and I turn back to her, "it's so dark, Derek." Her forehead now has a huge gash in it, blood streaming down the side of her face. Her legs slip from my waist and her eyes roll back in her head as her body goes limp.

"Fuck," I say, turning from the girl back to the rustling noise.

I lower her to the ground as a snarl comes from the bushes off to my left. I look at the blood stains as they spread across the pale blue fabric; blood drains from her leg, I do my best to keep pressure on it in an effort to stop the bleeding. I listen closely as her heart stops beating.

A full out growl sounds from the bushes as two red eyes stare back at me; a heartbeat stops me from changing.

I look back to the girl, and find a pair of gold eyes staring coldly at me, her canines shine in the moonlight as she grins wickedly at me. She leans forward and whispers in my ear, "Thank you." A stick breaks on the ground to my left and I turn to look-

Claws rake across my neck, and I fall onto my back, staring up at the moon as blood drains from me.

I wash the last of the shampoo out of my hair as I try to push the ending of that dream out of my mind.

These dreams need to stop.

I have to figure out what these dreams are about, and what they mean. I have to know if it's really her in my dreams.

"Her name is Avery Chastings."

Stiles's voice echoes in my head as I grab the towel off the hook and quickly dry off. The girl in my dream didn't look more than…eighteen? Nineteen, maybe? Same color hair, same tanned skin…

But I have to be sure. Especially since I keep seeing her with those familiar gold eyes.

She might've been bitten….the claw marks I found on that tree had the other alpha's scent all over it, they were fresh. So, what? Crash the car, bite the girl….and then what?

I pull the bathroom door open and step out into the cold air of the hallway. I make my way back to my room and throw on some clothes; the normal jeans, black t-shirt and leather jacket. I pick up my phone from its charger and check the time.

4:58 P.M.

I put my phone back into my pocket and grab my keys from my nightstand before leaving my room and walking back down the stairs and out the front door. The porch creaks under my weight as I step off the stairs towards my Camaro.

Gotta remember to fix the porch later…

I unlock the doors with the remote and get in. I start the car and the engine comes to life, the CD player picks up from where it last stopped, "No Games" by Breaking Benjamin comes on as I pull out of my spot and back out onto one of the back roads that lead into town.

The third dream was the shortest, but it was definitely the worst one.

I open my eyes to see the ceiling of my bedroom, and at the foot of my bed, a slim shadow stands just watching me. I sit up on my elbows and notice two brilliant blue eyes.

The figure moves closer and closer until she comes into the pale light coming in from the window. Ruffled brown hair is draped over her shoulders; her full lips hang open slightly, as if she's focusing on something intently. Her eyes lock onto mine as she leans down and slowly begins crawling towards me. Her white nightgown does little to cover her; the neckline hangs low as she makes her way towards me, showing the full of her breasts.

She stops when we come face to face, and before she has a chance to lean down, I flip her over so she's on her back and I'm on top. She closes her eyes as a small smile pulls at her lips, I dip my head and begin sucking at the nook of her neck, small moans escaping from her throat as I suck harder.

"Take me," she whispers, "just take me already."

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts of the rest of the dream.

This needs to stop.

I pull into the hospital parking lot to find only a couple of news vans are left.

I guess they figured out she's not waking up any time soon.

I turn into a parking spot towards the back of the hospital, there's no way the cops guarding the entrance would let a former suspected murder in the damn place. Last time they just let me in because I was with Stiles and Scott.

Rain drops begin falling, lightly coating my windshield as I turn the keys and turn the engine off. I get out and make my way to the back of the building as rain begins steadily falling.

Around the back, a dumpster sits up against the side of the building, and a window on the second floor is open, the same floor Avery's room was on.

I jump up on the dumpster, careful not to slip on the now wet surface. I pull myself up and look into the room to find an old man lying in the bed; his eyes are closed, his heart beating weakly. I look for anyone else in the room, but find no one in sight.

I pull myself up and in through the window. I turn and close it as wind and rain begin sweeping over the window pane.

I make my way out of the man's room and into the hallway. I listen for the sounds of the ventilator, and eventually pick up on a familiar voice, "Hey, Ave," the voice says in a sniffle, "I brought you some things from home."

I follow the voice and come to stand outside the room; I peek around the doorframe to see the blonde girl from earlier sitting by Avery's side, holding her hand in both of hers. Suddenly, the girl turns toward the window as the rain pours down outside.

She gets up and opens the window, the sound of the rain echoes into the silent room. "I know how you love the sound of rain," she says as she takes her bedside seat again. The girl is wearing the same Navy sweatshirt and leggings as earlier, she looks like a wreck.

I realize she's not leaving anytime soon so I walk into the next room and see it's empty. I walk in and close the door, keeping the lights off and listen as the girl talks. She clears her throat, I can almost see her fidgeting with her fingers as she continues, "The, uh," he voice breaks, "the doctors said that they don't know if you can hear us," She takes a ragged breath, "I'd like to think that you can, though, so I can tell you that you need to get better." The ventilator rhythmically sucks in and pushes air out as she continues.

"You need to get better," she pauses, trying to calm herself. I walk over to the empty hospital bed and lay down, my hands folded under my head as I listen, "I got us plane tickets to New York in two weeks, for your birthday," she says, her voice is thick and heavy with sadness, her heart beats rapidly, "you were always singing songs from that musical, RENT, so I, uh, I got us tickets on Broadway and you have to get better," she says as a sob breaks from her chest, "we're supposed to go together, so you have to get better." Suddenly, the girl breaks down, muffled sobs pour through the thin wall.

I try to focus on the sound of the rain instead, but it's hard to ignore something that sounds just so….. broken.

The sound of light snoring sounds through the wall, and the girl's heart is calm. I sit up and make my way to the door; I pull it open and peek around the door again to see the blonde girl asleep, her head resting in the middle of her folded arms on the edge of the bed.

I walk in and stop dead as soon as I see Avery.

Her tanned skin seems to have lost all color, black and red bruises cover her skin; they must've come in from when I saw her last.

I focus in on her again, the same blaring pain surges through my leg, the same throbbing in my forehead, small pains cover my skin, a pain shoots through my abdomen.

She's not healing. The alpha never bit her.

I try to focus in on her, trying to find the same fight that was there before.

But there's nothing.

I come to stand by her side, as if that would help me find something in her, any sign of life. The smallest inkling of life clings on, but not much. Not nearly as much as before; she's fading fast.

My mind flashes back to my uncle, he was alive in body for years, but there was no real life in him. He was all but dead inside. And when he finally came back, he was insane.

My canines suddenly stab at the inside of my lips, completely on their own. I shake my head.

Am I really willing to change her? I don't know anything about her.

I look over to the girl, who's still asleep. A small black picture frame on the nightstand catches my eye and I pick it up.

The blonde girl and the girl from my dreams stand together in four separate pictures.

"So, it was you." I mumble under my breath as I turn from the photos back to the girl in the hospital bed.

Author's Note: S orry for all the view switches :/ I wanna get a lot of character's viewpoints in to show different character's reactions! I'll try to keep it to a minimum in the future!

I didn't really like the Kanima story line, so I'm thinking of just making Jackson a werewolf!

Anyway, next chapter will pick up right where this one left off, so keep reading, eh?

Chapter Text

A/N: Alright so the lyrics found below and throughout this chapter is from the song "What Sarah Said" by Death Cab for Cutie. It doesn't exactly fit where it's placed, but I basically got my motivation from that song so I wanted to include it. I don't own the song/ lyrics or anything.

And it came to me then that every plan,

Is a tiny prayer to father time,

As I stared at my shoes in the ICU,

That reeked of piss and 409,

And I rationed my breaths as I said to myself,

That I've already taken too much today,

As each descending peak on the LCD,

Took you a little farther away from me,

Away from me,


Four different pictures of Avery and the blonde are held within the large black frame. The first shows them side by side on a beach, both in bikinis with matching smiles on their faces.

But other than the smile, they couldn't be more different.

The blonde is a head shorter with barely anything on her.

Avery stands well above the blonde on a pair of long, well-muscled legs. Her stomach shows faint outlines of abs; her arms give similar faint lines of muscle.

"She's a grade older than us, played on the girl's lacrosse team; I think she was committed to play for Maryland."

She's an athlete and she obviously is in great shape….assuming she wakes up she'd be amazing.

But if she ends up like my uncle…. alive, yet dead at the same time….

But if she survives the bite and if she does wake up, angry and twisted…. Then I'll have to kill her.

I'll bring her back only to kill her again.

I set the picture frame back down and turn back to see the blonde girl still sleeping heavily and I doubt she'll wake up any time soon. I look over to the window to see rain steadily pouring down outside. I walk over to the open window and pull my phone out of my pocket.

Scott and Stiles didn't know her very well, but I can't just change her because of a couple…..interesting dreams. I need to know more.

I dial the number quickly and wait for an answer. After one ring, Isaac comes on the phone.

"What's up?" he asks quickly.

"How well did you know Avery Chastings?" I ask as I watch the rain pour down on the few news vans that still remain in the lot.

"Ugh, she's a bitch!" Erica's voice interjects.

"Isaac, is this on speaker?" I sigh.


I motion for Erica to shut up, "Just because the damn phone is on speakerphone doesn't give you permission to actually speak." I say angrily.

Erica sits on one of the abandoned subway train's seats; I'm lying down, with my phone on my chest. I was trying to catch come sleep before Derek's call, but one thing I've learned is not to ignore Derek when he calls. It doesn't end well. Especially for my ass, because he tends to kick it when he's angry.

"Enough." Derek says grumpily.

Boyd is leaning against the subway's door with his arms folded across his chest; he just lets out a short laugh. "Uhh, yeah I know her, she helped me sometimes in Algebra last year," I remember pretending to listen to her to sneak looks at her boobs, "she's hot….I mean yeah, uh, she's….smart."

Erica lets out a small growl and rolls her eyes, "Oh, please…" she runs a hand through her dirty blonde hair and flips it to the side. "She's nothing but a jock," Erica says as she begins staring at her nails, "saw the news this morning, a shame really-Wait," Erica looks suddenly back to me before walking over and snatching the phone off my chest, she turns away before I can grab it back. "Why do you want to know?"

Derek lets out a sigh on the other end, "That's not important right now," Erica pushes her tongue against her cheek, her grip on my phone suddenly tightening, "look, do you have anything useful to say or was this call just a waste of time?"

Erica opens her mouth to speak again but Boyd steps up, grabs the phone from her hands and steps outside the train car, "What do you wanna know?" he asks evenly.

"He's not considering-" Erica begins.

"I don't know, now shut up; I'm trying to listen." She sits back against the train seat with a huff; she folds her arms across her chest as Derek speaks.

"I've heard she plays lacrosse," Derek says flatly, "she any good?"

Boyd lets out a dry laugh, "I've seen her play a couple 'a games; she's fast," Boyd pauses, "really fast. She seemed like the best player on the team, but I haven't seen many lacrosse games…."

"Anything else you know about her?" Derek's voice is curt; to the point. Which means he has something in mind….

"He is!" Erica says with a shocked voice. I give her my best 'shut the hell up' face.

"Afraid you won't be the only she-wolf in town anymore?" she rolls her eyes and turns her head to the side with a clenched jaw.

"Well, I know her parents are divorced and she lives with her mom; I saw her at some of Avery's games, she is…..well, she has a very rough personality, I could tell that just from lookin' at her." Boyd's footsteps echo through the subway as he paces. "I've talked to Avery only a couple of times; she used to come by the ice rink with her friends," I lift my head up to look out the train car's dirty window, Boyd has the smallest of smiles on his face as he paces with my phone held out in front of him, "she would always take the time and talk to me. She's nice, but that's all I know."

"Good enough for me." Derek says after a few moments. I look over to see Erica's eyes turn to gold. This time I roll my eyes.

"So you're gonna-" Boyd stops and waits for Derek's answer.

After another couple of moments, "I'm considering it…"

"They said on the news she was in critical, you think she'll survive it?" Boyd's voice is flat, but his heartbeat skips just a bit…..concern maybe?

"I guess we'll find out." I can practically feel Erica's claws dig into her jacket as she clutches her arms. "I'll be there soon, no going out tonight; I still haven't found alph." the nickname we use for the oh-so-shy alpha that has been running through the woods lately.

"Training tonight?"

Dumb question, Boyd; there's always training.

No answer comes, just the sound of Boyd's footsteps as he steps back into the car. "He hung up on you, didn't he?" I ask, Boyd just tosses my phone to me and I catch it easily.

I look over to see Erica staring at the ground, her eyes are glazed over, and her mouth in a pout. "Awww, don't worry, Erica," her eyes flash up to me in anger, "you'll always be our favorite bitch!" I give her a smart-ass smile.

She lets out a roar as she jumps from her seat towards me with both her claws and fangs outstretched.

Well, shit.

Sheriff Stilinski

I slide my pen across the document sloppily; I hardly got much sleep last night and now the press is all over my ass about this case and it's starting to ware on me. I toss my pen down on my desk and reach up to push my glasses from my eyes as I rub them.

A sudden smack nearly makes me jump, but I recognize the sound, "Whaddya got for me, Kelly?" I ask as I yawn and lean back to stretch in my chair.

Kelly just gives me a smirk as she rolls her eyes, "Read it and see." Her short black hair gently sways forward as she motions toward a manila folder.

I sigh and put my head in my hands, "Oh, God, not more reading, c'mon, Kelly I'm begging ya'."

She gives me a smile and flips the folder open before turning it so she can read it, " 'Upon further examination of the totaled 2004 black Toyota Camry, blah… blah…. blah…. Unimportant.." she says as she drags her nail across the lines of the page, I can't help but let out a little chuckle, "ah! Here we are… 'fingerprints not belonging to Chastings were found as well as DNA - in the form of blood- inside the vehicle.'" Kelly shuts the folder and leans on my desk with both hands, a smile on her mouth as if she's got a secret.

"And that's not even the best part." She says as she quirks a dark eyebrow.

"And that would be?"

"There was a blood spot on the handle; you know the one you use to get inside the car? And the forensic examiner says it could be consistent with someone hitting their head, which I'm willing to bet money that that's where Avery's 'trauma to the head' came from."

"Where would I be without you, Kelly?" I ask with a chuckle.

She sticks her finger out "But I'm not done yet, the fingerprints were found on the steering wheel mostly, but also on the seatbelt buckle on the passenger side. The injury diagrams show there were no wounds on Avery's arms-"

"She was unconscious when the crash happened." Kelly gives a nod.

"We already knew she was well above the legal limit for alcohol, but this means whoever was in that car with her tried to make it look like she was alone that night."

I open the folder back up and flip through the pictures of the car's interior. "Well, they did a shitty ass job, didn't they? Hey has Jackson given us that list yet?"

Kelly purses her lips and looks up, "I don't think so, I'll get Davis back on his ass." She says with a wave as she turns and begins walking away.

"Hey, Kelly," she turns with her lips open, as if asking 'what', "nice work." I say as I look back to the folder, sensing the smile on her face as she turns again and walk away.


Amongst the vending machines and year-old magazines,

In a place where we only say goodbye,

It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend,

On a faulty camera in our minds,

And I knew that you were a truth I would rather lose,

Than to have never lain beside at all,

And I looked around at all the eyes on the ground,

As the TV entertained itself,

I slip my phone back into my pocket and walk back to the side of the bed. I pull back some of the long brown hair from across Avery's shoulder and shift the tubes and hospital gown to show the base of her neck.

Stitches cover a long red line across her neck to her shoulder. I sigh and pull the gown back up. I do the same to the other side, but find more stitches.

The only unmarked places are her arms. I undo the Velcro holding her wrists to the bed rail and push up the sleeve of her gown. Small bruises cover her arm, but other than that there are no wounds I could open up….besides the bite.

I lift her arm and sink my fangs into her skin. Blood drips into my mouth, I can taste the cocktail of antibiotics and painkillers….as well as the mix of a couple different bloods… though which is hers I can't tell.

I lower her arm back to the bed and reach the roll of gauze on the small metal tray. If the nurses find a bite mark on her and match my DNA to when the cops took me in for murder…. It won't work out too well.

I quickly wrap the gauze around her arm and tear the piece off with my claws.

Suddenly, a man's voice down the hall catches my attention, "So you just decided to go home and take a nap, I guess?" The man says angrily as multiple footsteps practically jog down the hallway.

"Don't you dare chastise me, Joseph! You have no idea what I've been through today!" The woman's voice is familiar, I recognize it as the woman who passed me in the hall….Avery's mother, I take it.

I move to the other side of the room and pull the dividing curtain to hide behind.

"What you've been through!? Our daughter is in a coma! And I'm supposed to feel bad for-" the man's voice cuts off abruptly as his footsteps enter the room and slowly draw near Avery. "Oh, God," the man says in a whisper.

Cause there's no comfort in the waiting room,

Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news,

And then the nurse comes round and everyone lift their heads,

But I'm thinking of what Sarah said,

That, "Love is watching someone die."

The blonde girl lifts her head and clears her throat, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize- excuse me." Her footsteps make their way quickly out of the room, but I still hear her heartbeat outside the room. Seems I'm not the only one interested in what's going on here.

I look through the netting at the top of the curtain to see a tall man with tan skin and short brown hair by Avery's side, his hands clutching one of hers tightly. Tears slowly begin forming in his eyes as he looks down at her. "Damn, her hair got long." He says, his voice getting heavy with grief.

Her father maybe?

The woman stands at the foot of the bed with her arms crossed over her chest, her deep red hair damp, yet her make up seemingly without a flaw. A man with longer brown hair stands beside her with his hand on her hip.

Avery's mother keeps her head high, "She ran off, Joe," she says in a defensive tone as he looks at the tubes and machines keeping Avery alive, "I couldn't have done anything to-"

"Quit the 'It's-everyone-else's-fault' bullshit, Cheryl! I've been hearing it for years and I'm sick of it!" Joe says as he turns back to the two. Both of them jump back slightly, "If you weren't such a controlling BITCH, Avery wouldn't be here right now!" His hand motions toward the bed.

The other man puffs out his chest as he speaks, "Don't you dare talk to her like that!" Cheryl seems to shrivel up against the man's chest for protection, "You have no right!"

"She's my ex-wife." Joe says with a humorless laugh, "I have every right." His face goes cold as he turns back to Avery. "Get out," he says flatly.

Cheryl's eyes gloss over, her body seems to be drained of all pride she'd held when they walked in, "I have every right to be here; she's my daughter too-"

"Then why don't you start acting like it?" Joe says flatly.

So who's gonna watch you die?

The other man suddenly takes a step towards the curtain, and I realize he's been staring at my shadow for almost a minute now. I quickly move to the window and climb through the frame before jumping to the street below.

I take a hard landing on my feet, but it hardly matters. I run through the rain back to my Camaro and pull out of the hospital lot.

Whether she lives or dies….it's out of my hands now.

She has to fight.

So who's gonna watch you die?

Later That Night….


I make a quick knock on the frame of the door, " 'Scuse me, it's time to change out her IV," the middle-aged man with short brown hair turns and gives a quick, saddened smile.

"Of course," he says as he pushes himself up from his chair and backs up so I can reach Avery's arm. I hate dealing with things like this, like when an old person is dyeing, and their family is there, and they all have those same polite smiles that hold them together even though they know….

Oh God, I just hate things like this.

I quickly slip the needle from her arm and replace it with a new one.

The good news is this girl has really good veins, meaning it's easy to give her the medicine and get out of this awkward silence as soon as-

A wrap of gauze catches my eye on her other arm.

The man must notice my confusion, "What? What's wrong?"

I look to him to find a worried face staring at me, searching for an answer. I flash him a quick smile, hoping to calm him, "Nothing, nothing," I turn back to the gauze and lift her sleeve to see it's wrapped tightly around her arm, "I just don't remember…." I walk to the foot of the bed and look at the diagram of where her wounds are.

"See, I have to change the gauze every night and I don't remember changing that one."

Let's see…. Laceration to right thigh; got that one. Laceration to abdomen; got that too. Small laceration and swelling on forehead; yep. Minor cuts across shoulders, only needs disinfecting.

I look to the right arm of the diagram, but no one ever marked a wound there. "Hmm.." I say as I walk to the side of the bed and quickly unwrap the gauze.

"Well, that's odd," I say as I peel of the bloody gauze.

"What?" he asks frantically.

"There's nothing here…..huh, well, one less to change I guess, right?" I look back to him with a smile, but find a cold, humorless stare looking back at me.

I really hate things like this.

One Month Later…


"C'mon, man, you can't leave me hanging on this again." I say into my phone as I pull out of my driveway and begin down my street, "I'm coming to pick you up and you're going with me."

"Stiles," Scott sighs on the other end, "look, we don't even know her! You don't even know her! How many times have you been there anyway!?" The sun hangs low in the sky, washing orange light over Beacon Hills as the sun sets.

"Only seven…." I mumble.

"Stiles….?" Scott prods.

"Alright, nine, but the one doesn't count because I just came to say hi to your mom."

"And why would you stop by the hospital just to say hi to my mom? You see her like every day."

"She's a charming woman, am I not allowed to just stop in and say 'hi' to your mom? She thinks of me like a son and I'm offended that you'd try to cast your own brother out of the family like this. Now I'm coming to pick you up and we're going!"


Allison's lips trail kisses down my stomach, leaving lip gloss smudged on my skin, she looks up and gives me a wink as her tongue slips out between her lips; I barely manage to hold in a moan. "C'mon, man, you can't leave me hanging on this again."

Suddenly, Allison pulls away from my stomach and leans in to give me a quick kiss on my lips before leaning in to my ear, "I'll be in the shower." she breaths in my ear before turning away and pulling her shirt over her head. She turns and coyly hides her body behind the door frame as she gives me a wink and turns away.

"I'm coming to pick you up and you're going with me."

Naked Allison….? Stiles.

Naked Allison.

"Stiles, look, we don't even know her! You don't even know her! How many times have you been there anyway!?"

Stiles lets out a small mumble before answering, "Only seven…"

Stiles does that mumbling thing when he's lying. "Stiles….?"

"Alright, nine, but the one doesn't count because I just came to say hi to your mom." I stop listening as Allison steps into the frosted glass shower. Steam rises from the water, fogging the frosted glass and making it impossible to see anything but a tan blur.

"-Now I'm coming to pick you up and we're going!" Is all I hear as I realize I'm still clutching a phone to my ear.

"What? Uh-no, Stiles I gotta go." I say as I hit end and push myself off Allison's bed. I scramble to get my jeans off as fast as I can.

I pull the door open and step under the hot water, Allison doesn't bother turning around, but I notice a smile spread across her face as I lean in and kiss her neck. "Mmm…what was that about?"

My hands wind around her hips as I pull her against me, "Just Stiles." I say as I kiss my way up her neck.

"And what did Stiles want?" She asks with a hum in her voice. She always likes to keep me waiting.

I turn her around and lift her against the shower wall, her eyes flash with surprise, but they turn to excitement as she sees my face. She always says it's 'cute how impatient' I am. "Does it really matter?" I ask as I dip my head and kiss my way down to her breasts.

"I-I guess not." She stammers as I take her nipple into my mouth and gently suck on it.

"Good," I say, bringing my face back up to hers, "now, back to earlier…." She gives me a wide grin before she pulls herself from my grip and pushes me against the wall in her place. She gives me a deep kiss before she steadily dips her head lower and lower down my stomach, leaving more lip-gloss coated kisses as she goes.


"No Scott wait-" I pull the phone away from my ear and look at the screen.

Call ended

Scott 4:20 mins

"Great," I say with a sigh, "thanks, Scott." I toss my phone into the passenger seat as I drive by Scott's street. "Probably with Allison...Whatever happened to 'Bros before ho-'….lovely young women?" I double check that no one is in the backseat to hear that.

Especially no Scott.

I look up to the sky as the full moon comes into view as the sun disappears from the sky completely.


"I need some coffee." Joe mumbles to himself. I listen from the room next door as his footsteps leave the room and make their way down the hall.

I walk out of the empty room and step into Avery's.

She's been healing slowly, and she's almost back to normal, though I can feel the pain in her leg is still there.

I can sense her body is healed, but when I've tried to focus in on her….there's nothing…It's like there's a black cloud covering her… I can't get anything.

I heard the doctors when they talked to Cheryl and Joe about her odds. They said the longer she remains in the coma, the less chances there are for her to pull through.

But it's a full moon tonight. And if she's ever going to wake up, it's gonna be tonight.

It's been a month. A whole fucking month of these damned dreams. I can't get rid of those damned blue eyes in my head. Every time I close my eyes I see her staring back at me.

And then I come here.

Where her eyes are never open.

Never staring.

I can't tell which is more frustrating.

I come to stand by the side of the bed and try to focus on the wolf inside her. I try to pull her out. My vision goes red as I try pulling her through.

"Wake up." I say firmly, nothing happens. "Wake. Up." I say, adding a small growl.

Her pupils shift slightly under her eyelids. "Wake up, Avery." Nothing.

I take a deep breath and let out a full out roar. Her eyes snap open.

But they aren't the deep blue eyes I yearned to see. Fiery gold eyes dart around the room.

Suddenly, she closes her eyes again and begins gaging on the tube in her throat. Her coughs are muffled by the plastic, making her cough more. Her hands desperately try to rip themselves from their restraints.

With her strength, she should be able to break free….

She opens her eyes again; deep blue orbs stare up at me through a blur of tears that stream down her face.

A flash of guilt strikes through me before the sound of fast footsteps dash down the hall.


I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to clear my eyes, trying to see, anything. I can't see anything….

I can't breathe, oh God, I can't breathe. Help me!

I scream up at the dark figure next to me.

Help me!

I open my eyes to find no one. There's no one.

Coughs wrack through me, I can't breathe.

Where am I?!

"Avery!" a woman's voice says. I open my eyes to see the blur of a dark haired woman beside me, her cool hands find either side of my face, I stop struggling and just look up at her. "I need you to calm down, I'll get it out; do you understand? Don't move. I need you to stay very still."

I just nod, and do my best to stop the gaging. "Okay, honey," I squeeze my eyes shut; I don't wanna watch this… "relax your throat." I shake my head as another gag comes, "c'mon, baby I need you to relax."

I try to do as she says, "alright, now open wide." I open my mouth and keep my eyes closed as the tube is pulled from my throat.

As the last part is pulled out I sit up and I lose it.

Suddenly my hands are free and the woman clutches me to her as sobs pour from my sore throat. The woman just holds me tight and strokes my hair and before long, a voice comes from the doorway, "Avery?!" a man's voice asks in disbelief.

I squeeze the tears out of my eyes as the woman lets me go and I'm swept up in another hug. After a few moments the man steps back, but keeps his hands firmly on my arms. "I thought-" the man starts.

"Baby, you remember me don't you?" the voice sounds so damn familiar… The man looks at me with worried eyes. Stubble covers his chin and cheeks, though I could swear…

"Dad?" he breaks into a smile as tears fill his eyes.

"That's right, baby, that's right." He gives me another tight hug as dread fills me.

"Wait, if you're here- where's mom? Is she alright?" suddenly, his grip loosens and he leans back again to look at me. His eyes look over to the woman, who I can now see is a nurse.

"Avery," the nurse says as she steps forward, "my name is Melissa, listen, do you remember how you ended up here?"

I look down at my hands to find a paper wristband.

Avery T. Chastings

Beacon Hills Hospital, ICU

Patient # 552390

My head suddenly feels heavy, and before I know it, I'm looking up at the ceiling of the room as Melissa shines a light in my eyes. "Where's my mom?" I ask, realizing they never told me.

"She's fine, Avery, now listen-"

"No, no, where is she? I want to see her-" suddenly my dad grabs my hand and holds it tightly.

"Avery, listen to me, she's fine." He says in a calming whisper as his thumb rubs my knuckles.

"Then where is she?" I say in a half sob as tears fill my eyes again. "Where am I?" I ask, fully knowing from my arm band where I am. "How the hell did I get here!?" More sobs escape my lips, my head hurts and my throat is sore and I just want everything to stop.

Suddenly, I notice Melissa doing something with the IV bag, and before I know it, everything goes fuzzy. "Avery, I've given you something to calm you down, can you hear me?"

I just nod as I feel my head stop aching suddenly. "Good, that's good," she says with a smile. Now listen, this isn't going to be easy to hear, but you have to promise me you'll stay calm, okay?"

She sounds distant, like I'm underwater, but I just give her a nod, her voice is nice, and I just want to hear her voice. "Alright, well, about a month ago, you were in an accident, do you remember the accident?"

I try to think back, back to before I woke up here, but everything beyond Melissa and my dad is fuzzy, I can't think straight. I shake my head slowly against the pillow. "You were in a car accident, they brought you here, and you've been here ever since."

"How come I don't remember?" my words sound slurred, and my eyelids seem to be getting heavier every minute.

"It's okay, baby, you just get some sleep." My dad's voice says, his hand holds mine tightly as everything goes dark.

No, no.

I try to say.

Not the dark again, it's always dark.

I try to tell them.

Please no.


"No, no." Avery's voice says weakly, "Not the dark again, it's always dark." Her voice fades more and more, "Please no." I look down at my shoes and try not to think about the sound of her crying.

I tried to wake Avery up. But instead I woke the wolf.

And then….the tube down her throat….

She must've been so scared….

Guilt rushes through me again. "She doesn't remember anything about the crash?" Joe's voice asks.

"Not necessarily, sometimes these things take time." Melissa says evenly, "The best thing to do right now is let her rest. I gave her a sedative; she should be out for at least five or six hours. You should go home and get cleaned up. If you want I can give you a call when she comes around again."

"I have a house nearby; I'll just be a couple hours-"

"Mr. Chastings, pardon me but you look like an old hobo. You've been here round the clock for a couple weeks now, go home. Get a nice, long shower in your own home. And maybe a shave too. She'll be fine. I'll stay here with her and make sure she doesn't slip back under."

The man sighs but gives a hum of agreement. A few minutes later, his heavy footsteps leave the room. "Be right back, honey," Melissa says, "I'm just gonna grab my dinner." And with that, she makes her way quickly out of the room.

I walk slowly backing to the room, slightly unsure of what to expect. But when I walk in, I find it's just the same as every other time I've visited. Her eyes are closed again. She's asleep again.

I tell myself they'll be plenty of time later, but that doesn't make this any less frustrating.

I look closely at her; since her features no longer hidden under a plastic mask. The tan in her skin seems to have come back within minutes of her waking up; a light blush gives color to her cheeks, though her lips are chapped from months of being forced open because of that damn tube.

I carefully reach my hand out and push the light brown hair from her face, and gently cupping her face in my hand. My thumb lightly brushes across her lips, "I'm sorry, Avery."

"Stiles no!" Melissa says sternly down the hall.

"But you just said-"

"Yes, she woke up, but no, she's not awake." Melissa's voice echoes.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Stiles does that whining voice that always pisses me off.

"She had a bit of a panic attack when she woke up, the tube, well, it- it freaks people out when there's something in their throat and they can't pull it out. It sends people into a panic phase. But I gave her the sedative more for her to rest than anything."

"She's been asleep for a month…I think she'd good."

Melissa scoffs, "Stiles, come back tomorrow. Your dad will wanna talk to her tomorrow anyway." Melissa's footsteps come closer down the hallway. I look back to Avery one more time before heading to the window and once again jumping to the road below.

It'd been two weeks since the last time I caught the scent of the other alpha through Beacon Hills. But the scent is still on the edge of my territory…like the alpha is lurking there...waiting for something.

Maybe now with Avery awake I can actually get somewhere with finding out who it is.

Sheriff Stilinski

A loud ringing sound wakes me up, I lift my head and see only yellow. I reach up and pluck the sheet of paper from my forehead before reaching for the phone on my desk, "Hello?" I ask as I fight a yawn. "Beacon Hills police department, Sheriff Stilinski speaking."

"Hey, Sheriff, it's Melissa McCall, Avery Chastings just woke up a few minutes ago."

"What? That's great!" I say as I stand up and grab my gun from my desk and slip it into my holster, "I'll be right there-"

"No, no, no, that'll have to wait till tomorrow, at least." My shoulders fall as the yawn wins out, "She was delirious, and she didn't seem to remember anything about the crash, or how she got here. Maybe things will be different tomorrow, but for now she's under some sedatives and she's resting."

"Mmm….that sounds like a good idea." I say as I look over to the clock.

11:42 P.M.

Melissa chuckles over the phone, "Weakling, been working the graveyard shift for three years now, I'd say I'm practically a creature of the night by now."

"Well, you are a bit of a witch," I say jokingly.

She laughs before adding, "Alright well call before you come talk to her tomorrow, and make sure you don't tell anyone she's awake before you're ready to deal with the reporters, I know they'll be all over your ass about her waking up before you've closed the case."

"Well, I was hoping that by the time she woke up I'd have a suspect and she'd put the nail in the coffin with a positive identification, but if she can't remember…." I sigh.

"Well, like I said, maybe she just needs a bit of rest, goodnight Sheriff."

"Goodnight, Melissa. Go make a brew somewhere won't you?"

"Oh ha-ha, veeerrry funny." She says with a light tone before hanging up. I set the phone back down and turn my desk light off before making my way to my door and turning the light off behind me. I pull my keys out of my pocket and lock my office.

I walk through the maze of desks where only a handful of graveyard shift cops remain, the rest are out on patrol. "You on your way home, Sheriff?" Donnie asks as he snacks on his box of Chinese food.

"Yep, it's time for me to head out." I say as I make my way to the lobby of the station.

"Finally! Thank God!" he calls after me jokingly. I chuckle.

"'Night Sheriff," Donnie the security guard says as he looks up from his newspaper with a smile on his face. Donnie always has a grin on his face and a joke on his tongue, so the nights when he works, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, I always leave with a smile.

"'Night Donnie, hey take tomorrow off on me!" I call as I push the door open and step out

"Tomorrow's Saturday, sir, I don't work-Oh" I let out a laugh as I make my way to my cruiser in the parking lot.

Chapter Text

Author's Note: Alright, so nothing spectacular happens in this chapter so don't get too excited! This is more of a set up chapter, if something seems weird or off in this chapter i.e. how characters react to things just trust me, it's gonna be awesome.

Anyway, for now Avery still really isn't herself, but we'll see her real personality more in the next couple chapters. So just hang on Derek is coming soon!

Song mentioned is 'Comatose' by Skillet. I don't anything about the song or band. So yeah. it's just a really good song.

Please excuse any grammar errors, I added in and changed a ton of things in this chapter so mistakes are probably plentiful :/

~Enjoy ~


I take a bite of the slightly overcooked mac n' cheese and try to distract myself from the throbbing in my leg and my head by watching an old Batman cartoon. Ever since I woke up, my stomach has been killing me, I'm so hungry and I just can't seem to stop eating.

I scrape the last bite from the third bowl of the morning, yet still I feel hungry. I stack the Styrofoam cup inside the other two and push it aside on my bed tray that sits in front of me; I reach for my glass and take a sip of water. My doctor came in and checked on me maybe an hour ago, she said that the appetite was a good thing, but right now it just feels ridiculous.

Then again, I guess that's how it is when you've spent a month in a coma eating liquid food from a straw.

A whole month.

So that would make it…. July? I grab the remote and turn it to the news. A weatherman stands at the far right of the screen, his hand extending across the screen and pointing to the different temperatures under each day, "Today is gonna be a scorcher, with temperatures soaring into the mid-nineties, by tomorrow a cold front will blow in, so expect some heavy thunderstorms all day on Sunday beginning in the morning and spanning out all day…."

I look down to the corner of the screen, and find the small icon that says the date.

July 16th, 2013

My head begins spinning as I realize, "I missed my birthday," I say as my eyes stare blankly at the screen. A pair of fingers come in front of my face and snap, and suddenly I hear a voice.

"Avery, how are you feeling?" I snap my head to the left and see a man standing by my side, a white lab coat covers his light blue scrubs, his face is chiseled and he looks like that doctor on that TV show in Seattle… what was the damn name of the show…..?

My head begins to throb worse than before as the man continues talking, "My name is Dr. Pierce, I'm the head Neurologist here," the man has a small on his face as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small flashlight before bringing his fingers to hold my chin up and shining the light into each of my eyes, "you took a pretty good hit to the head," he said as he pulls away, pointing to the spot where the throbbing is coming from, "though the gash healed, there's bound to be some side effects," Dr. Pierce says as he takes a step back and sits in the chair by my bed, he leans forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees as he laces his hands together.

"Like what?" I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper.

"Head injuries are tricky; you had minimal swelling of the brain when you first arrived, but since you were…. Well, since you weren't active, your brain had plenty of time for healing. I'd like another CAT scan later this afternoon, just to make sure everything's alright." I give him a small nod, my head is aching and his voice is only making it worse. He sighs and crosses his arms, "The police want to talk to you, but I want to ask some basic questions just to make sure you're feeling yourself, okay?"

"Okay," I say, pulling myself up to a sitting position.

"Alright, what's your full name?"

"Avery Terrance Chastings," I answer quickly, the throb quickening in my head.

"And your age?"

"Seventee-" I pause, realizing that June 8th had already come and gone, "Well, I guess eighteen, now." I say, taking a minute to look down at my hands. I look up to see him giving me a small smile, laced with pity.

I resist the urge to punch him in the stomach.

"And your parents' names?" Anger suddenly fills me, the steady beeps of my heart rate spikes on the monitor. His eyes flash to the screen, then back to me with a questioning look.

"Cheryl Reese and Joseph Chastings." I say flatly as I try to figure out why I'm angry. My head aches worse than ever, and I just wish he'd leave.

"Are you alright, Avery?" he says as he reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder. I force myself to take a deep breath before answering.

"I'm fine, do you, uh," I run my tongue along my lips, trying to concentrate on anything but the pain, "do you know where my mom is?" I squeeze my eyes closed, the lights seem to be getting brighter, and harsher by the second.

"We haven't informed her you've woken up yet, I had to come check on you to make sure you were up for visitors-"

"You mean she's not here already?" I ask, leaning back against the pillows.

"Well, no," he pauses, "I'll go make the call now, you just relax and she'll be here soon, okay?" I don't open my eyes or make a sound; I just nod slowly and wince when I hear the door close.

It sounds as if he's slammed it, and the volume on the TV seems as though it'd been turned all the way up as the news anchor's voice booms through the room.

"-In other news, a man has begun protesting animal rights outside the capital building in a hamster suit-" the man's voice grates against my ears, and I snatch the remote off the tray and turn the TV off.

For a moment, everything is silent and calm, my head stops aching and I feel at ease.

Then, all at once, noises fill my ears; the sound of the nurses' footsteps as they swiftly move through the hallways, the sound of machines beeping and carts rolling and people talking. One voice in particular stands out.

"Hi there, this is Dr. Pierce head Neurologist at Beacon Hills hospital; Avery's awake and ready for questioning. She passed the basic knowledge test but I advise you keep it short and simple, there's plenty of time for the more difficult questions later, Sheriff." His voice sounds as if he's still in the room, as if he's right next to me.

A short mumble sounds on the other end before he speaks again, "Yes, of course, I'll have the nurses postpone the pain medication until you arrive, she'll be less groggy that way." Another short mumble sounds from the other end.

"Sounds good, see you in a bit Sheriff." After a few moments, his voice begins again, "Hello, Ms. Reese? This is Dr. Pierce head Neurologist at Beacon Hills hospital; Avery is awake and ready for visitors if you'd like to come see her," he pauses.

"Oh," he sounds genuinely taken back, "well, you can come by any time before eight thirty tonight, that's when visiting hours are over."

Doctor Pierce says his goodbyes to my mother before calling my dad, saying the same greeting of, "Hello, this is Dr. Pierce; head Neurologist at Beacon Hills hospital…." Only this time, he ends with, "Yes, you can come by now, but the Sheriff is coming by too, you might have to wait till after he's done, but other than that, you can stop by any time you like, visiting hours end at eight thirty though." He pauses as mumbles come from the other end, "No problem sir." Is all he says before the sound of footsteps drifts further down the hall.

So that's it.

I haven't seen my dad in years.

Not since he took that job in Japan on some big construction project.

I've lived with my mom since I was fourteen, and before that my dad had a job nearby and every other week I'd switch living between them.

And yet my dad is coming to see me now, and my mom –the woman I've spent the last four years believing was the only one of the two to really care- isn't coming.

I hear my heart monitor beeps unsteadily, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I think about my dad, and force the thought of my mom from my mind. After a few moments, the monitor slows and the noise of the hospital dissipates.

Suddenly, the door opens and a man, obviously the Sheriff, steps through with a polite smile on his face, "Good morning, Avery, I'm Sheriff Stilinski,"

"That was fast," I don't realize I said that out loud until he gives a small chuckle.

"I came right over," he says as he lowers himself in the chair by my bed, "I've been waiting a long time to talk to you," he pauses, "how're you feeling?"

I shrug, the motion pulls on the IV's in my arm. I try to not pay any attention to them. "Fine, I guess," I look down, not wanting to look at the man's polite, yet weathered face, "considering…"

He nods, "I need to know what happened, Avery, what's the last thing you remember?" He says gently.

I take a deep breath and try to think back, but my mind is foggy. I try harder, "Your mother said you went to a party….?" he asks.

A party…

I open my eyes, and narrow them at him in thought, "Jackson's party, right?" he gives me an encouraging smile and nods. I look down at the pale blue sheets, and it reminds me of my dress, "I was wearing a blue dress, like this color," I say as I point to the sheet, flashes of my mom and I blur in my head, our muffled voices argue, "my mom and I- she didn't want me to go."

The throbbing in my head from earlier returns, "I remember sneaking out, starting the car," my memory blurs and fades to black as my car pulls out of the driveway, "but that's all." The Sheriff looks down, probably trying to hide his disappointment.

After a moment, he looks back up to me, "Was there anyone with you? Were you going to meet someone at the party?"

The throb turns into a stabbing pain as I try to push myself back to that night, but my heart monitor spikes again.

God, why does it keep doing that!?

I can practically hear the blood rushing in my body and Dr. Pierce's voice rings out in the room, "Sheriff," he says in a calm voice, "could I talk with you for a minute?"

The Sheriff nods and rises, "No," I say in a small voice, "I can do this," I push my mind back harder, trying my best to focus, "I know I can."

Dr. Pierce looks at me with a calming look, "Avery I don't want you to strain yourself," is voice is cool and rational, "you just woke up from a coma, you should be resting and taking it easy." I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Sure, it makes sense, but I don't like it.

The Sheriff gives me a small smile, "If you happen to remember anything, without straining yourself of course," he glances up at Dr. Pierce, and I have to hold back a smile, "here's my number." He hands me a small card, "Have a good day Avery." He says as he walks to the door.

"No," I say stubbornly, the Sheriff turns back to me in surprise, as does Dr. Pierce, "I have a few questions myself, and since my doctors won't tell me shit," the beeps spike, "I have a few questions for you, Sheriff." The beeps scream at me, I sigh heavily and reach under my hospital gown and tear the monitor from my chest, "I'm sick of this thing," the monitor goes flat line, and I shudder inwardly.

Dr. Pierce rushes over and quickly shuts the machine off, I guess it's an unsettling noise to hear for the other patients in this place, but I couldn't care less right now.

"Avery, you have to-"

"No, it's alright; I think she deserves a few questions answered." The Sheriff says with a small smile on his face. Dr. Pierce nods and slowly makes his way out of the room.

"Alright, what are these questions of yours?" I look down to my hands, trying to brace myself.

"I convinced one of the nurses to talk to me a bit earlier," I begin slowly, "she said when the ambulance brought me in," I take a breath, trying to get the courage up, "I had alcohol in my system, a lot of alcohol, is that true?"

The Sheriff lets out a heavy breath and looks down at his boots. "What happened that night Avery? I understand from your friends that your mom was… difficult… but why sneak out that night? What changed?"

My head feels foggy, clouded, but a voice rings out.

"You know, Jackson's having a party this Saturday, and I was hoping you'd go with me as my date."

"Jake," I breathe out.

"What?" Sheriff Stilinski asks quickly.

"I was supposed to go with Jake, I remember that." My eyes glaze over as I try to remember more…

"And, did you see this Jake at the party?" My mind goes blank. I let out a huff of frustration.

"I only remember talking to him about the party, nothing else." The Sheriff comes to stand at my side. I'm sitting up in bed, but I wish I could just disappear right now, until this all blows over.

"Anything else you can tell me about this Jake?" He asks, taking out a pen and small notepad from his jacket.

"His name's Jake Reily, we're in the same grade, he goes to Beacon, he plays on the lacrosse team, but he's not-"

His radio chimes in.

"Sheriff, news broke of the girl waking up, the leeches are outside the hospital; they want a press conference with you."

'The girl'? Seriously?

"Right," he says into the radio as he turns away and paces to the window on the far side of the room, "I'll be right out," he sighs when he looks out, "damn they move fast."

"Well it coulda been a leak from one of the staff at the hospital, who knows?"

"Don't suppose it really matters now, I'll be right down." He paces back to me and gives me a sad smile. "You have my card, Avery; don't be scared to use it."

I give him a nod and look down as he makes his way out of the room.

I lay my head back and take in a deep breath, trying to calm down. I bring my hand up to brush my hair out of my face, only to find my hair feels greasy and thick. I quickly draw my hand back with a frustrated huff.

The room is silent; all the annoying, headache inducing sounds I'd heard several minutes earlier are gone, only the gentle beeping of my own heart monitor rings through the empty room. I nervously twist the sheets for a moment; silence has always made me nervous.

I give up and pick up the remote, turning the TV back on, my jaw drops.

The Sheriff stand outside the hospital with microphones and recorders pointed in his face, "-woke up late last night, she's currently resting and we ask that she is given her privacy from the media." Across the bottom of the screen the title is what catches my eye:

Avery Chastings Wakes From Coma; Still In Hospital.

I think I liked it better a few moments ago when I was 'the girl'. But there it is. My name on the screen, for everyone to see. For all those people to look at, shake their heads and say, 'what an idiot', or 'stupid teenager'. I shudder at the thought.

One reporter speaks up, "Sheriff, is she still in the ICU or will she be moved in non-critical care soon?" The Sheriff looks down at the ground as the reporter finishes before lifting his head and speaking.

"I'm told she'll be transferred possibly sometime today or tomorrow, but I can't be certain." I look over to the window, wondering if I could…

I look at the IV's in my arm and follow the tubes to the portable IV rack. I toss my blankets to the side, and look down at my legs.

A huge bandage covers my right thigh, and I feel the sudden urge to pull the bandage away and see what's underneath, or at least how bad it is. I shake my head in disgust and shudder, realizing its better not to know sometimes.

I slowly swing my legs over the side of the bed, a sharp pain cutting through my thigh as I slowly stand. Meanwhile, a different reporter asks another question, "Have you determined the cause of the crash yet?" The TV seems to echo through the empty room.

My eyes flash over to the screen. Sheriff Stilinski practically rolls his eyes at the question, "As I've been over before," he says in a stern tone, "I can't release information about ongoing investigations-"

"Sheriff it's been an 'ongoing investigation' for weeks now, when can we expect some real answers?" I fully push off the bed and put my full weight on my legs.

I pull the IV stand along with me as I take a few shaky steps. Sure, the pain is sharp in my leg, but I do my best to ignore it as I make my way to the window, all the while listening to the Sheriff as his voice becomes more and more stern by the moment.

My bare feet are stiff against the cold floor, but I look down after feeling something familiar. I smile when I see it's my toe ring and matching anklet; it's nice to have something I remember, at least.

"When the investigation is through." I almost shudder at the irritation in his voice. Glad I'm not that guy. "Next question." He says bluntly.

I come to stand in front of the window and see two or three News vans, along with several cameras trained on the Sheriff. A man in a dark jacket begins walking toward the front of the hospital from across the street.

I can't make out his face from here, but he looks familiar.

"Can we expect a formal statement from A-" The woman's question is cut off as a reporter suddenly breaks from the group and rushes toward the man.

"Mr. Chastings!" the man calls. Suddenly, all the camera men and reporters rush toward my dad as he makes his way up the stairs. Sheriff Stilinski and a couple other cops hold them back as my dad climbs the stairs.

"Dad," I whisper. My legs feel numb, and weird. I almost peel myself from the window when a woman's voice calls out from across the room.

"Ms. Chastings!" the woman breaths in sharply. I turn to see a nurse rushing toward me, a shocked look on her elderly face. She holds out a weathered arm to help me stand. "You aren't supposed to be out of bed, dear, here I'll help you."

I give her a reassuring smile, "No, no thank you, I'm fine!" she doesn't listen, she just grabs my arm. "No," I say, in an attempt to get her to look at my face, "I'm fine, I walked over here on my own and I can walk back, too." She keeps her grasp on my arm, and I give in.

She leads me back to the bed, kind of awkwardly too seeing as how I'm almost a head taller than her. "Let me get a look at your leg, dear." She says in a hurried voice as I sit down.

"My leg is fine." I say stubbornly, wanting nothing more than her to leave all of a sudden. Her gaze snaps back to mine, and I let out a heavy sigh. She begins slowly pulling the medical tape from around the bandage; the tape pulls uncomfortably at my skin at a painfully slow pace, "Just tear it off." I say angrily, wanting this to be over already.

"If you say so," She takes a second before tearing the bandage off completely. I look down at my thigh, and find a big red scar over it, "your wound is still tender, dear." she says as she looks at the scar, prodding it gently with her fingers. No matter how gentle her prodding is, it sends sharp pains through me, "You're very lucky." She determines in a tone that doesn't make me feel lucky at all.

My eyes are focused on the scar.

It stretches down my thigh in an ugly twisted line. The nurse must sense my disgust, because she quickly pulls my hospital gown down to cover it. "Well, it seems as though it doesn't need a bandage anymore, it could do with some air; that should take the swelling down anyway."

When I still don't respond, she continues nervously, "You were losing a lot of blood from your leg when they brought you in, turns out you nicked the artery in your leg in the accident, Dr. Hughes –your surgeon- had to…well… patch you up."

My stomach churns uneasily, and I lay back against the pillows before I throw up. "Anyway," the nurse abruptly says as she walks back to the cart she'd pushed in earlier, "I've just come to give you your medication, dear."

Something churns in my stomach, but it's not nausea, it's….it's something else.

"Are you in pain, Avery?" The nurse says as she takes the empty IV drip from the metal hanger and begins replacing it with a full bag.

"I don't know." I say, trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me. "I've felt so weird since I've been up," I say with a strained voice as the nausea gets worse, "I couldn't stop eating earlier and then my head was killing me and-"

My attention snaps back to the door when my dad walks in, a concerned look on his face, "Hi baby, how're you feeling?" He comes to stand by my side, and well, just stands there. Awkwardly.

I haven't seen my dad in… well, a really long time. Not since he took some big job in Japan two or three years ago. The most interaction we've had in that time is a phone call now and then. But other than that, we're practically strangers.

"I'm okay; my head's just a little foggy." He just nods and smiles before leaning in and giving me a tight hug.

"Dad," I say as he pulls away, "where's mom? Why isn't she here?" His smile slowly fades and his eyes seem to look past me as he inhales sharply.

Then it hits me: it's Saturday morning.

"Wait, there's no way she's," my dad's cool blue eyes tell me otherwise, "she's still having practice? I just woke up and she's busy with ballet?" I say in a bitter tone as I look down to the small swirling design on the light blue sheets.

My dad doesn't say anything, and that's about as much as I can expect from him, there's not much to talk about between the two of us.

"Listen, honey," he says after a few empty moments, "I know I haven't been around lately, but you know that I love you, don't you? And I know how… well, how your mother can be, I just- you know you can talk to me, right?"

"Yeah dad, I know-"

"And I'm not just saying that Avery, I mean it," his voice is sincere, "if you ever need anything, you can call me."

I smile and look down again, "I know, dad." I hesitate before adding, "I've missed you, how long are you staying for, anyway?" I ask in a hopeful voice.

He sighs, "I've been here a month already, I'm sorry Avery but now that you're okay I have to get back to work; I'll be leaving within the week."

Hope. Destroyed.

I don't say anything, I just nod and smile, "So, how's Japan anyway?" I ask in an attempt to make small talk.

"Oh! And you should see the Cherry blossoms there! They're beautiful Avery! You have to come visit sometime, I'll have you flown over and you can stay with me-"

I let out a snort, "Good luck getting mom to agree to that, dad." My dad's smile drops a bit at the mention of mom, but I can't help but to think of her, I've been awake for hours now and she's nowhere to be found.

A nurse peeks in with a smile, "Excuse me, but you have a visitor Avery." I smile, it took her long enough.

The nurse backs out and a moment later, Stiles walk in with a nervous smile on his face and his hands deep in his jeans' pockets. "Stiles?" I try not to sound shocked. I fail. Badly.

"Hey, Avery," he says pulling his hand from his pocket and itching nervously behind his ear.

"Well, I'll go get some coffee." My dad says before giving Stiles and I a nod and walking out of the room.

Stiles stands by the door, obviously unsure of what to say, or do. I can't say I know either. "You can come in if you want, you don't have to stand at the door." I give him a smile, which he mirrors as he steps further into the room.

"So, how-" I put my hand up to stop him.

"If one more person asks me how I'm doing, I think I'm going to scream." He gives an uneasy chuckle and a warm buzz spreads through my arm. I try to ignore it; it doesn't hurt, it actually feels nice…

"So," I begin as I bring my hand up and rub my arm a couple times, "what brings you by the hospital? Not exactly where I'd be spending my Saturday…" A steady throb in my head builds on top of the warm buzz.

"Well, I heard you were up and I thought I'd come by and see you," I close my eyes, trying to push the pain out of my head, but a voice comes through.

"Hey, Avery," Stiles's voice rings out through blackness, "still not up yet, huh?" I hear a deep breath, "Listen, I know we don't really know each other that well, but I just want you to know I'm here. So, yeah, that's uh, that's all." His voice pauses, "There's a lot of people that care about you, people who want you to get better. Just- just try to get better fast, hmm?"

"-very?" I open my eyes, Stiles stands next to me and looks at me with wide brown eyes.

"Stiles? Have you… been here before?" I ask in a pained voice as my head throbs.

"Yeah," he says with a confused look on his face, "did your dad tell-"

"No, no," I shake my head, "I remember you talking to me, but-but that's all." His eyes look up and down my face as a smile grows on his lips.

"Avery that's great!" My brow furrows at his words.

"It is?" I ask in a distant voice as voices start ringing through my head.

"Yeah!" he says happily as he leans forward in his chair, "That means you're beginning to remember, right?"

I close my eyes and listen to the voices….voices of my mom, dad, Stiles, Tori, of all my friends…all saying the same thing.

"Hey Ave," Tori sniffles, "I-I just came to tell you that I'm going to New York," her voice is thick with emotion and her sniffles interrupt her continuously, "God, I wish you were going with me. The doctor told me she didn't think it would be long now…. Nothing will be the same without you Avery, I love you."

The sound of a boy crying suddenly fades in as Tori's voice drifts off, "I'm so sorry this happened to you," I recognize the voice as Liam, a boy I met in my math class last year, we weren't the best of friends but we bonded over our hate for equations and formulas, "You were one of the best people in this town, I just wanted to tell you that."

"They were all saying goodbye," my eyes gloss over as tears fill them, my gaze snaps back to Stiles who know looks more solemn than before, "why were they all saying goodbye? How close was I to….?"

Stiles swallows and looks down, and clears his throat before he speaks, "They were going to turn off life support on Monday." All of my senses go numb.

I woke up on Friday July 15th.

I would have died on Monday July 18th in a hospital bed at eighteen years old.

A Few Days Later….

"This is it Avery," the nurse named Melissa says as she smiles and pulls out the IV in my arm, "are you excited to finally go home?" she asks in a cheery tone.

"I can't home soon enough," I say with a grin.

"What's the first thing you'll do?" she says as she wraps the tubes up and sets them on a metal tray on the side. My mom stands with her hands folded in front of her with my clothes slung over her arm.

The day the doctor called her she had finished her class before coming to see me, and I was pissed until she got there. But as soon as I saw her I had a bit of a breakdown, and I don't even know why I started crying really, I guess the fear and shock that I almost died just came to the surface.

But over the next few days in this place voices of people who've visited me have been coming through, and not once have one of those voices been my mom.

"Ummm, I think I'll take a long hot shower." I laugh nervously.

Melissa smiles and gives a polite laugh, "Well, you'll be there soon enough, anyway I'll go ahead and give you some space to get dressed, Ms. Reese, if you'll follow me to fill out some final paperwork…?"

"Of course." my mom smiles and lays my clothes on my bed before moving towards the door.

Melissa makes a move to move to the door too, but I reach out and grab her arm, "Can I talk to you real quick first?" Melissa nods and my mom looks at me nervously from the doorway.

"I'll be there in a minute," Melissa says to my mom, who just stares at me before nodding and stepping out into the hallway, "what's wrong Avery?" Melissa whispers.

I'm sitting up in the hospital bed I've come to hate for no good reason, my baggy hospital gown loosely clings to my shoulders and I nervously pull the fabric further up on my shoulder. "You keep a record of who visits, right?" I ask, staring into her dark eyes in hope she'll just let me have my way.

She stand up straight, her eyes narrowing, "Yes, but we're not really supposed to-"

Seeing where she's going, I quickly speak up before she has time to just say no, "I know, but you've got to understand, I haven't been awake in a month and-" I force tears into my eyes, glad that the old fake crying trick I learned as a kid hasn't left me.

"Okay, okay," she says, trying to calm me down by rubbing my shoulder, "but why do you want them?" I look up at her, my eyes still kind of cloudy with small tears.

"I need to know something." Is all I say in return, her eyes look between mine for a few tense moments before she sighs and turns away towards the door.

"I'll bring a copy of the visitor's list after you're dressed." She walks smoothly to the door before mumbling to herself "I could get in a lot of trouble for this." She walks out and pulls the door shut, leaving me alone in the room.

I push the sheets back from my legs and shakily set my feet on the ground. My right thigh still hurts when I walk, sometimes worse than others, but my doctor came by and gave me a black brace that slips over my thigh and supports it so I can walk with only a little pain.

I reach behind me and untie the small strings keeping my gown on and the light fabric falls to the ground. I turn and grab the sports bra I told my mom to bring from home and slip it over my head and pull my hair from under it.

Next I grab the clean pair of black boyshort underwear and quickly slip them up my legs. The room is cold and a shiver runs up my back as I grab the pair of navy blue baggy athletic shorts and pull them up same as the boyshorts. The loose fabric of the shorts gets caught on the big, blocky brace and I sigh in frustration as I struggle to pull the shorts free.

After I finish putting the shorts on I turn and snag the thin long sleeved pale pink shirt and toss it over my head and pull it on. It's thin and my black sports bra shows clearly through it, but I've never much cared about that sort of thing; it's not like it's a big secret that girls wear bras.

The shirt is nicely fitted, making up for my saggy unflattering pants which I don't even want to think of how they look right now. Next I pull on the mid-calf light pink socks my mom brought and slip on my adidas slip on sandals.

I look like hell. But I guess it really doesn't matter. I'm finally going home.

I lay the hospital gown on the bed and take one final look at the hollow feeling room before turning and walking to the door. I pull it open and see Melissa walking towards me with a paper folded in her hand. My mom is signing the final check out papers at the desk.

Melissa approaches me without a word, hands me the paper with a weary look on her face as if warning me to keep it to myself that she gave me these. I nod and she speaks lightly, "Take care of yourself Avery, nothing personal, but I never want to see you here again."

I give her another nod of agreement before she walks away down the hall.

I watch as her blue scrubs clad form practically marches away and turns into a different room, when she's out of sight, I glance down at the paper folded in my hand. "Avery come on, let's go," my mom calls from down the hall, "it's getting late and I don't want to get caught in the storm."

"Coming," I say as I walk down the hall to her. They say that this summer has been one of the 'stormiest' summers there's ever been, and it doesn't seem like it's going to end any time soon. Not that I mind, I've always liked the rain, and storms are even better.

We step into the elevator and suddenly my mom's phone rings, she scrambles through her overly size purse for a minute before finding it and pulling it up to her ear with an angry sigh. "Hello Joe," she says hastily, after a moment my mom replies with, "yes, we're leaving now, when's your flight taking off?" I close my eyes and lean back against the wall of the elevator as I try to ignore my mom's voice.

"Oh, Avery," I open my eyes to see my mom covering the speaker on the phone, "your father's flight is about to take off for Japan, anything you want to say to him before he takes off?" I turn away so she won't see my face.

"Have a nice flight." My tone is bitter and all around unhappy, but I can't find a reason to care. I don't know why my hopes had skyrocketed when I realized my dad was back from Japan, there was no way he was staying. Maybe I was hoping he'd find a job in America in the very least, so we could see each other without need of a passport.

That would be something I guess.

My mom speaks back into the phone, "She says she hopes you have a nice flight," my mom echoes, "alright, yeah I'll make sure of it." She says in the same hurried tone. The elevator doors open and I quickly step out. I hurry towards the main automatic doors when my mom catches my arm and whirls me around.

"We're going out the side exit," she says as she holds her phone away from her mouth, "we don't want to be seen by the reporters, honey." She says as if it's a regular thing. I let her lead the way as she continues to talk to my dad on the phone. I don't listen to her voice, I rarely listen to them when they're talking to each other, a habit I forged after listening to them fight all the time.

We step outside into a darkened parking lot, cool night air blows uneasily and the trees behind the hospital shake warily. I follow behind my mom as she sets off towards the car; my leg is aching steadily, but I ignore it as I try to keep up with my mom's pace.

The side parking lot is practically empty; my mom's car sits alone in the middle row and a few scattered cars linger closer. My mom's voice echoes into the darkness, "I don't care Joe!" she says loudly, I just look down and will myself not to limp. "You know what; we'll talk about this later." She doesn't hang up as she reaches the car and fumbles to unlock the door.

Suddenly I feel weird, like someone is right behind me or near me or just…watching. I look to my left towards the front of the hospital; maybe one of the reporters has sneaked around….? It's sad that that's what I'm hoping for.

But there's nothing but parking lot lamp posts and the empty white line on the asphalt. I look to my right slowly, expecting to see a quick flash of someone before they duck and turn away or kill me or…..

Okay calm down you idiot; you're being ridiculous there's no one-

My eyes lock on to a man leaning up against a black Camaro, hands in his pockets, one boot crossed over the other, eyes directly on me. Two dark eyebrows frame his eyes in an unsettling way, and as I stare back, I feel completely numb.

Everything fades into the background; the wind blowing my hair back, my mom's voice arguing on the phone, the throbbing in my leg; everything. Suddenly a sharp pain stabs me in my arm and I clutch it tightly with my hand, I open my mouth in a silent scream, and as I look away from him I can swear there's a smirk on his face.

I slowly sink to the ground as the pain consumes my formerly numbed nerves. "Fine!" my mom's voice fades back in as she tosses her phone back into her purse, she turns to me then, "Avery!" she calls out, more in confusion than worry. She rushes to me and hoists me up, showing little concern for my hand clutching at the invisible wound in my arm.

"Let's get you home so you can rest." I curse in my mind; that's all I need more rest. I slowly make my way to the passenger side, I look back to see the man's head ducking into the car, the smirk still on his face and…..and his eye that I can see…glowing red.

I squeeze my eyes and his head is gone, the door shuts and I lower myself into the seat of my mom's Chevy impala but I don't take my eyes off the tinted windows of the Camaro. I can swear I see two red orbs glance over at me before the engine roars and the tires squeal as the Camaro tears out of the parking lot.

I look to my mom to see if she just saw that, but she's turned around looking at something in the backseat, as if that didn't even happen. She turns back and starts the car, the radio comes on and I try to relax as 'Comatose' by Skillet comes on.

I hate feeling like this

I'm so tired of trying to fight this

I'm asleep and all I dream

Is waking to you

Tell me that you will listen

Your touch is what I'm missing

And the more I hide I realize I'm slowly losing you


I'll never wake up without an overdose of you

I don't wanna live

I don't wanna breathe

'les I feel you next to me

you take the pain I feel

waking up to you never felt so real

I don't wanna sleep

I don't wanna dream

'cause my dreams don't comfort me

The way you make me feel

Waking up to you never felt so real

I hate living without you

Dead wrong to ever doubt you

But my demons lay in waiting

Tempting me away

Oh how I adore you

Oh how I thirst for you

Oh how I need you

I'll never wake up without an overdose of you

Breathing life

Waking up

My eyes open up


I'll never wake up without an overdose of you

Author's Note: Okay so that was just a tease, I know. So yeah next chapter is gonna pretty legit so stay tuned and we'll get there ;)

Sorry if I skipped around too much but honestly, I kinda feel like it's like 'okay can we just get out of the hospital now?' so I fast forwarded a bit.

Chapter Text


"Wake up, Avery." I open my eyes, and find myself laying on a cold gravelly surface, with darkness all around me. I slowly sit up and try to remember where I am. Suddenly a lamp post's yellowed light flickers on at my far left.

One by one, parking lot lights flicker on and grow closer and closer to me. I'm in the hospital parking lot, that much is clear. I push myself to my feet and turn around to make my way back into the building, but find no sign of the hospital.

Everything is so cold… dark…..

So familiar.

I turn back to the lamp posts as they continue flickering on down the line. I watch for a minute, just letting the rhythm of the wild flickers of light consume me.

As the light in front of me comes to life, it's different. There's no flicker, just a beam of light that is steady and constant. And under it stands a man.

He's tall, that much is obvious. His hair is dark and spiky, and dark stubble frames his jaw perfectly. But it's his eyes that hit me; the blood red stare that looks back at me with incredible intensity. I have a thought to turn and run, but my feet won't let me move. The sound of a hear monitor fades in and the heartbeat speeds up continuously.

The man is probably the hottest guy I've ever seen, but that stare makes me shudder down in my shoes, which I just now realize, I'm not wearing. I'm in the hospital gown again. Suddenly I feel horrifyingly vulnerable as I look back up to his gaze.

"Wake up!" he shouts at me, revealing two fang like teeth as he lets out an animalistic roar.

I feel the roar wash over me and suddenly the heartbeat in the background stops.

I wake with a loud gasp and my body snaps up fast enough to give me a whiplash. I look around my darkened room to find no sign of the lights, the man, or his eyes for that matter.

And yet I can still feel them on me, watching me. I look over to my clock.

5:19 A.M.

"Now you might have some strange side effects; weird dreams, blackouts in your memory, sudden bursts of emotion, maybe even some hallucinations. The pain medicine I'm prescribing for you is really strong and it effects people differently, just try to only take some if you absolutely need it. If you're feeling not yourself or you're unsure of how your body is handling the medicine come talk to me immediately."

Doctor Pierce's voice echoes in my head as I try to make sense of my dream.

I sigh and push my feet over the side of my bed. In a little while I have to go to the high school track and meet up with Luke, my personal trainer. I reach over to the bottle of pain pills on my nightstand and pop one of the tablets in my mouth and swallow. Just a preemptive dose for later with Luke.

Luke's been training me since ninth grade and he's made me into the player I am today. I have to admit, I owe him a lot. But instead of his usual 'be uncomfortable' saying that he usually uses to urge me on, today's just going to be 'let's see how fucked up you are'.

I run a hand through my hair and try to calm my nerves. Of course he didn't say it like that, he said, "Let's take it slow and see how it goes." which is basically the same thing. I look down at the ugly scar on my leg and wonder how the hell I'm ever going to be the same.

I brush my fingertips over the puffy skin of the scar, I can't even feel my fingertips as they brush over the thick scar tissue. I shake my head and reach over to my nightstand where the thick black brace sits just waiting to be shackled around my leg like a cuff.

I pull the black thick fabric around my leg and strap it on tightly. I force myself to stand and ignore the stinging that comes from my thigh as I make my way to my dresser and begin sifting through my running clothes.

In the end I settle for a pair of black running shorts with purple trimming, black mid-calf Nike socks, and a charcoal grey dri-fit T-shirt. I grab a hair band and rake my fingers through my hair, I wrap the band around my hair in a high ponytail that is long enough to brush past my shoulder blades.

Maybe it's time for a hair cut or something…. I shake my head and catch sight of the folded paper on my dresser. It's the visitor's list I'd asked Melissa to get for me; I haven't looked at it yet, and I don't know what I'm waiting for. I don't know what I'm looking for either, but something tells me I shouldn't look at it. Not yet.

I don't even know when it'll be the 'right' time.

The sun must be rising outside, since the light is beginning to shine through my window, but I realize that I hadn't even made a thought to turn the light on, which is….. Weird. Normally I can't see a damn thing in my room before the sun has risen.

I step back and look at myself in the mirror; I might look the sporty kinda cute, if it weren't for the damned brace. It's amazing how much regret I can feel for something I don't even remember.

I push that thought away as I walk to my phone on my nightstand and snatch it from the charger. I pull the cord out of it and turn it on as I slowly open my door to make sure I don't make much noise. I walk down the stairs carefully, with each step my thigh feels like it's being stretched further and further.

When I reach the bottom I look at my phone's cracked screen and see that Tori texted me that she's on her way back to California.

My phone still works perfectly, despite the cracked screen, and that seems like a good sign for me, I think. It was in the crash with me, and it was….well…..scarred, just like me, yet it still works fine. I can only hope that that means I'll be able to come back just fine too.

I called Tori last night when I got home from the hospital, she'd started crying hysterically on the other end saying how sorry she was that she wasn't there when I woke up and how she'd be on the next flight back as soon as possible. I knew why she was really crying though, it wasn't regret, it was relief.

She thought I was going to die, everyone thought I was going to die. She didn't think I'd wake up and the doctors would switch off the machines in the next few days. She didn't want to be around when it happened.

I figured it out when I heard the complete shock in her voice when she'd asked me three times if it was really, really me.

I've known Tori for as long as I can remember and when bad things happen, she doesn't like to be around to see the end result. Like the time she was caught cheating on a Spanish test in eighth grade and she camped out in a bush in her backyard for hours to avoid going home to face her parents.

Tori never has been very good at handling bad situations, she panics and usually runs off for a while. So I can't say that I'm surprised that she wasn't even in town when I woke up.

"I'm so sorry, Avery. I wish I'd…..I'm sorry," Tori's voice says in a sob, "I love you so much, but I can't be here when you….. So I'm going to New York, I'm going to see that musical you love so much." Her voice echoes through the bleak darkness in my head, "Because, because it's the only way I can do this. I want to do something you love," her voice breaks, "as a final goodbye. God, I'm gonna miss you." Her sobs fade back into the darkness.

I practically limp towards the mat in front of the door and slowly lower myself down towards my running shoes. I never bother untying my tennis shoes since I train with Luke three times a week during the summer and twice a week during school. I slip them on and reach up and use the door knob to pull myself back up. "This is ridiculous." I mumble to myself as I realize just how miserable training is going to be today.


My legs carry me easily rough the forest, never missing a step. I'm even faster now as alpha than I ever was before, and it's nice to be able to patrol my turf with such speed. I've been out patrolling now for about an hour or two, I couldn't sleep, or I didn't really want to sleep anyway, I'm tired of those damn dreams, tired of what they do to me. Tired of seeing her, tired of what she does to me.

Without even being conscious.

Damn, I need to get a grip.

So I've been spending my nights out in the forest, searching for signs of the other alpha resurfacing in Beacon Hills.

But as I approach my house, I catch a familiar scent. I slow down as I take the final strides up the porch steps and swing my door open before stepping inside. I follow the scent into the living room to find the blonde laying on the old charred couch.

Erica lays with her head propped up on her arm, her dirty blonde hair is whisked back over her shoulders. Two spindly straps hold up a low cut red tank top that leaves the top of her black lace bra in plain sight. Tight dark blue skinny jeans cling tightly to her thin legs as she pretends to be preoccupied looking at her nails.

"You sure know how to keep a girl waiting, Derek." She says with an impatient huff. She looks me up and down as I come to stand in front of her with my arms folded across my chest.

"What are you doing here in the first place?" I ask in a flat tone. She quirks an eyebrow and a sly smile pulls at her red lips as she slowly draws herself off the couch towards me.

"Well, let's just say I've been sensing your unrest lately," she comes within an arms length and I let my arms fall to my side as she begins circling around me, "your, uh….hunger, let's say." she leans in and whispers in my ear .

I can't hold back a small chuckle as her words sink in, "And so of course you come here at," I take a second to glance over at the clock in the kitchen, "six in the morning?" I let out another short chuckle and a light growl rumbles in Erica's throat at my laughter.

"I've been here for a while now actually," her hands slowly begin trailing up my back and loop around my neck as her lips brush my ear, "just waiting for y-"

My cell phone rings and I tear her arms from around my neck as I reach in my pocket, pull out my phone and make my way into the kitchen.

Incoming call: Boyd

I hit 'accept' and bring the phone up to my ear, "Derek?" Boyd asks on the other end.

"Yeah, go ahead," I look back to see Erica glaring back at me.

"We've been keeping tabs on Avery like you asked."

"And?" I ask impatiently.

"She's at the high school track right now with some dude; looks like a physical rehab guy…..? Just thought you should know in case you wanted to come take a look." Boyd's voice sounds uneasy.

"How's she doing?" Boyd sighs on the other end.

"Not spectacular," Isaac's voice chimes in, "she looks like she's in a lot of pain with her leg but I guess you expected that."


Isaac and I kneel behind the bleachers as Avery and the instructor carry on, "-have to be patient Avery, this isn't going to get better over night, it's something you're going to have to ease back into." The middle-aged man says as Avery grimaces and grips her brace. His hands come to rest on his hips as he looks down at her with a concerned stare.

I remember watching her play a couple times, she was damn fast before, but now… now she just looks miserable and pained.

"Hold on," Isaac says quietly to Derek, "she's talking."

"I haven't even taken my brace off yet!" she says in an exasperated tone. "Luke, what am I gonna do?" she asks in desperation; she's sitting down on the track with her hands grabbing at her brace, as if that will make the pain lessen.

The man sighs and lets his hand fall from his hips, "The only thing you can do," he holds out a large hand to her, "get up and try again." Avery looks at his hand with hesitation.

"I don't-" her voice cracks and she takes a deep breath to hold back tears, "I don't know if I can do this." she says in a quiet voice to avoid her emotions spilling out. She looks down then to the side, trying to avoid looking at him.

He squats in front of her, "This isn't like you Avery; is there something you need to talk about?" Her face reddens with every passing minute as she tries to contain her emotion.

"I'm just- what if I never come back from this?" She angrily wipes her tears away, "I just don't know what I'm gonna do if I can't play, that's all this has ever been about, and if I can't play then everything I've done, everything I've worked for-"

"Don't talk like that, champ!" the man says suddenly, "It sounds like you've already let a little scar beat you, and that's not like you." The man stares intently back at her as sucks in a shaky breath, "You're letting your fear get to you, I've seen it happen with countless athletes; they tear an ACL, they break an ankle, they rip a muscle and they quit because of the pain, because of the fear. Now I'm not saying this is gonna be easy cuz' it's not. You know my motto; 'be uncomfortable', now you can say you can't do this all you want, but I know you've got it in you, now get up," he holds out his hand to her again as he stands and points to the track, "and let's see you try again."

"Damn," Isaac whispers next to me as Avery nods her head and takes the man named Luke's hand, "got my heart pumping a bit," I look down at my hands to see my claws are out and I notice that so are Isaac's. We look at each other for a quick moment.

"Question is, if that was enough to get us pumped up," I hold up a clawed hand, "then what's keeping her from changing? She's new to the whole werewolf thing, she should be easy to incite."

Isaac raises the phone back to his ear, "Derek, did you say pain can keep someone from changing?" I look back at the track to see Avery jogging with another pained look on her face.

I listen close enough to hear Derek on the other end; "Yeah, the easiest way to keep someone from changing is through physical pain, to an extent."

"Well then I don't think we're gonna have to worry about her changing for a while then." Isaac says in a sigh.

"That bad,?" Derek asks flatly.

"I just don't get it, why isn't her leg healing?" Isaac asks. Before I finally grab my phone back.

"It might heal if she changed…" Derek's voice is slow and frustrated.

"And since the pain is keeping her human," I begin as Isaac turns the phone so he can speak into it.

"and being human is keeping her from healing….?" He finishes.

"Exactly." is all Derek says in response. Luke suddenly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cell phone. He quickly texts something on the phone and slides it back in his pocket.

"So what are we going do with her?" I ask as I watch Avery jog by.

"You're not going to do anything with her; just keep tabs on her and let me know when she's alone. I think it's time I talk to her." And with that, the phone call ends.

I slide my phone back into my leather jacket's pocket, "Avery," Luke says as she jogs towards him, he holds up his hands and she comes to a stop in front of him, "how's it feeling now?"

She looks down at her leg and bites her lip, "Still not great." He stands there for a moment just looking at her brace and pursing his lips.

"Your mom still runnin' that ballet studio in the basement?"

Avery rolls her eyes, "Like she'd ever give it up." she says sarcastically.

"I think we're done for today but if you wanna go home and do a little bit of that it wouldn't be a bad idea. Ballet is good for stretching muscles and that might help build the strength back up in your leg. We'll pick back up on Wednesday. Alright, champ?" The man asks as he turns and walks to the gate.

"Right," Avery whispers to herself as she turns to face the lacrosse field in the center of the track. "Right." she looks down at the track as she slowly makes her way towards the gate and from there to the parking lot.

"Should we follow her?" Isaac asks absently.

"Derek told us to keep an eye on her, so yeah." All of a sudden Avery stops dead in her tracks and whips around toward the bleachers.


I listen closely for a long minute, and I can swear I heart a light pounding… like… like a heart. I look back to the gate to check that Luke is gone and I catch a glimpse of his car pulling out of the lot. I turn back to the bleachers and take a few cautious steps to the back of the metal structure.

All of a sudden, the pounding is gone, and I'm surrounded by nothing but silence. I step out behind the bleachers and find nothing there. The rising sun shines down brightly, sending a warmth across my back. I could've sworn I heard someone…it sounded like they were so close.

"Of course it's nothing," I say to myself as I tuck a stray hair behind my ear, "of course it's nothing." I reassure myself as I walk back to the track. My leg didn't hurt as much halfway through the second jog, I wanted to go faster but the brace isn't exactly easy to move in.

I grab my mom's keys and my water bottle from beside the gate and walk back to my mom's car in the parking lot. I doubt she'll be happy about me taking her car, but I had to get here somehow and walking is definitely out of the question.

I unlock her car and lower myself into the driver's seat. I miss my car, sure my mom's impala is nicer but I miss my old baby. It makes me sad when I think of it twisted and destroyed in some junk yard or something.

I push the thought from my mind as I start the engine. The car comes to life with a hum. It's nothing like the roar of that Camaro's from the hospital; that thing shook the ground when he revved the engine.

I put the car in reverse and back out of the space, my mind still focused on the mystery man in the parking lot. My mom didn't even react when he sped by, she didn't look like she'd heard anything at all. And his eyes…. His eyes were fucking glowing I mean… Come on.

"Now you might have some strange side effects; weird dreams, blackouts in your memory, sudden bursts of emotion, maybe even some hallucinations."

I suddenly hit the brakes at the parking lot exit. "So it was just my imagination…?" I stare at the black road in front of me. No cars go by; the way is clear to pull out. And yet I sit, staring at the asphalt. "God what's happening to me…..?" I whisper to myself.

After a long minute I shake my head and turn the radio on to drain out my thoughts. Danni California by Red Hot Chili Peppers comes on and I turn it up until I can't hear myself think anymore. Because if I start thinking I'll end up wondering about the party and the accident and Jake…. God what the hell happened to him anyway?

Where is he? Did he even visit me in the hospital?

I know the answer is sitting folded up on my dresser, but….do I even want to know? I shake my head, of course I want to know. I have to know…. Right….?

I reach over and turn the music even louder. A few minutes later I pull into the driveway and turn the car off. I grab my water bottle, keys and phone before dragging myself up the stairs and through the front door.

I close the door slowly so it doesn't make a noise. Usually my mom sleeps till at least 10 unless she has a class or something she has to get done in the morning. I climb the stairs quietly so she won't hear me.

I've always resented ballet in a way; sometimes I feel like it's the reason my mom is so unsupportive of lacrosse, that and the fact that my dad was the one who encouraged me to play when I was 10.

But if ballet will help my leg get stronger then that's what I'll do. I walk into my room and find my ballet shoes before making my way down to the basement.

The light shines through the wall of windows on the far side of the room. I slip off my tennis shoes and socks and lace my slippers up. I normally only practice in tights a leotard and a cover skirt but I don't feel like taking off the brace to slip the tights on today, I just want to get to work.

I walk toward the balance bar that stands by the huge wall mirror and grip the wooden beam tightly in my hand as I slowly bring my bad leg up and extend it across the bar. My thigh feels like it's tearing but I force myself to stretch it out further.

Outside the windows birds chirp happily and I try to focus on their little songs as I lower my right leg and shift all my weight on it as I repeat the motion with my left leg. I can feel the muscles in my leg shake with effort.

I'm so sick of not being able to run or jog or even walk comfortably . I'm tired of the pain every time I so much as lift my leg.

Why is this happening!? What did I do to deserve this!? Sneak out for one damned night?

A crunch makes me open my eyes. I look down to see my hands clamped around the wooden beam which is now splintering under my grasp. My vision is red, and I can smell the metallic scent of blood as it drips from my palms onto the polished floor below me. I slowly look into the mirror as the red fades from my vision.

Cold, angry gold eyes stare back at me. Two huge fang-like teeth prick my bottom lip, and I feel completely detached from myself. I inwardly scream, and I force my eyes shut.

When I open them a dark figure in the mirror behind me catches my attention. The man, the same man with the camaro as in my dream and the parking lot… His eyes are the same eerie red as before; he stands with his hands in his leather jacket just as in my dream, a confident open-footed stance.

I spin around to speak only to find him gone, with no sign of where he could've gone. I look back to the mirror to see my normal dark blue eyes staring back, with no hint of the hostility there was before. I sink down to my knees and clutch the bar just to keep from crashing onto the floor.

I turn and lean my back against the mirror and stare blankly at the spot where he stood. I feel the tears slowly drain down my face as I just stare at where he'd been. I close my eyes as a familiar sensation washes over me.

Darkness. There's only darkness and cold and….. "God, I'm gonna miss you." Tori's voice calls through the darkness. I scream at myself to speak, to open my mouth, to let her know I'm here, I'm alive, I'm fine.

To let her know not to go; not to leave me here in the darkness by myself. But she can't hear me scream, I listen as the sound of her footsteps fade away. Something inside me breaks as I hear the sound of a door being closed.

I open my eyes and find I really am surrounded with darkness. My arms encircle my legs keeping them close to my chest just as before, only there's no mirror to lean on behind me, no polished floor under me, and no light around me.

I look around in disbelief as a cool night breeze blows through my ponytail. In the distance I can hear the chirping of the crickets and the swaying of the trees. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, praying it's just a hallucination.


"So, she's just been sitting here, alone in the dark?" I ask in a confused voice. Avery sits on the track, staring blankly at the other side of the field holding her legs tight against her chest. I can see her clearly, but whether or not she can see anything is a mystery.

I learned with Erica and Boyd that sometimes the abilities don't work in the beginning, or at least haven't "settled in yet", as Isaac put it.

"Yeah, we did what you said, we kept an eye on her and about three hours ago she just walked out her house and came here. She's been like this ever since." Isaac says in a whisper. I'm crouched at the edge of the forest with a clear view of the stadium, Isaac and Boyd are crouched to my right, and Erica sits at my left.

"She's just been staring at nothing?" Erica asks in a snort, "Sounds like we've got a cuckoo on our hands." she says with a smug hum. I hold back a growl as I squint to get a better look at Avery.

"Ohhh, we've got a cuckoo alright," Isaac says as he leans forward to look Erica in the eyes, "but it ain't her."

"Enough." I say just as Erica opens her mouth to retaliate. "Something's going on with her."

"It happened to all of us." Erica says in a mumble.

"Hate to say it, but she's got a point." Isaac agrees.

"This is… different." I say as I stare at Avery's motionless form. "Boyd, go turn the lights on, Isaac, Erica, you two can go home." Boyd quickly jumps up and runs toward the electrical shed. Isaac makes his way deeper into the woods and after a couple long minutes, Erica does the same.


A burst of light makes me jump up, and I look to see a stadium light on the far end of the field has turned on, allowing me to make out that I'm at the school's lacrosse field, sitting on the track facing the center of the field.

Flashes of the ballet studio cross my mind; the crunching of the wooden bar, the blood dripping on the floor, and the man in the mirror. I look down at my hands and see no wounds, but my palms are stained with dried blood. I notice I'm not wearing my ballet slippers, instead my sneakers are on, and my brace is firmly in place.

"What the….?" I look around me as another field light comes to life, illuminating another part of the field. "How did I…?"

"Now you might have some strange side effects; weird dreams, blackouts in your memory, sudden bursts of emotion, maybe even some hallucinations."

So… I forgot I came here? I had a.. a memory blackout?

The light over the center of the field flips on, shining bright light clearly over the red BH in the center of the field.

No, no, this is just like my dream, except at the school…. So it's a dream. It has to be a dream.

As the final light turns on, a shadow catches my eye. As the shadow draws closer I can see more details; leather jacket, jeans, grey t-shirt, black hair…. But no red eyes. Of course it's the same man, the same imaginary man.

He walks calmly towards me until he's maybe ten feet away on the field. I lean forward and rest my chin on my knee as I stare at him. In a few minutes, he'll let out the same roar and I'll wake up, but I want to remember every detail about him; the way his stubble lines his jaw, how the leather jacket hugs his shoulders perfectly, even his confident stance.

He seems taken back as I relax and look him over, "What're you doing here Avery?" I look back at him in confusion.

That voice…

I need to hear him say something, I need to keep him talking, something tells me I know him… "Waiting." Is all I can manage to say. His eyebrows furrow.

"Waiting for what?" Something inside my head screams at me, something just below the surface…

I raise my head and mirror his perplexed expression. I should've woken up by now. He's never… talked to me. "Waiting to wake up." I say as I lean back and push myself uneasily off the ground and up on my feet. To my surprise, my leg doesn't hurt, but I guess pain doesn't really happen in dreams.

I take a small, stumbling step since my legs feel numb, and close my eyes as I try to place where I know him from, "Can you just," I bite my lip for a quick second, "can you just say something?" When he doesn't respond I open my eyes to see him looking me up and down again.

"C'mon, just say something." He looks towards the parking lot for a moment as if he's trying to think.

"You shouldn't be out here, not in your conditio-"

"Wake up, Avery. Wake up!"

I jump back as my eyes go wide. "You were there; you were in the hospital, I- I heard you." His jaw tenses, but he makes no move to deny it, "You were, weren't you? I remember your voice." I close my eyes as I hear his words echo in my head.

I open them slowly and look at the ground between us. "All my friends, my family, they were… they were all begging me to wake up, get better, and I could hear them, I was screaming at them that I was there, but I couldn't move, I couldn't open my eyes." tears slowly crowd my eyes. I'm so tired of the tears.

"But I couldn't do it; I couldn't get up, no matter how much they begged, no matter how much I screamed," my voice comes out as a choke as I look up at him, seeing for the first time not a glowing red, but a pair of deep green eyes.

Slowly, realization sets in and I take a couple steps forward, "You're…" I reach a hand out towards his chest, "you're real." I say in a relieved voice as my hand makes contact with something real, warm, and very much alive.

"I'm not crazy." I say with a smile as I look up to see him staring down at me with an unreadable expression.


"C'mon, Erica, Derek told us to go." Isaac tugs at my arm. I dig my heels in and he gives in, coming to stand by my side. I watch as Avery reaches out and places her hand on Derek's chest.

I barely hold in a snarl. At my side, Isaac whistles lowly. "You hear that?" he asks in surprise.

"No, what?" I can't take my eyes off of her hand on his chest long enough to look at Isaac.

"His heartbeat picked up." I tear my gaze away from the two and look at Isaac with wide eyes.

"It did not." Isaac grins widely and I turn my attention back to the two of them in time to see her take her hand away, "it did not." Isaac chuckles and takes off running back through the woods.

"Isaac!" I yell after him as I run to catch him, "Liar!"

Chapter Text


"I'm not crazy." I say with a smile as I look up to see his face. He just stares down at me with an unreadable expression. His green eyes look down at me and I forget to breathe for a moment; I just stand there looking into his eyes before I snap out of it and pull my hand back. My heartbeat thumps uncontrollably, and I take a deep breath trying to slow it.

I take a couple steps back and cross my arms over my chest as a cool breeze brushes over us. I suddenly notice that my hair is still in the high pony tail I put it in this morning and my clothes are the same too. I just wish I'd worn longer pants today instead of my running shorts. I can only imagine how ugly my scar must look to him. I resist the urge to look down at the ugly red line.

"Right," I say in a dry voice, I swallow and force myself to speak, "you're real…." I say as my brain kicks in, "Who're you?" His eyes bare into me and I almost take another step back.

"Derek Hale." Is all he says; his stance is confident, like he's completely comfortable right now. I, on the other hand, am internally freaking out.

I narrow my eyes at him and a nervous smile pulls at my lips, "Am I supposed to know you from somewhere? Sorry, my memory's been a little…. Well, blank lately."

"No, we've never met, at least not when you've been conscious." My eyes grow wide.

"So you were at the hospital." The sentence sounds more like an accusation than a statement. I nod my head a bit, "And it was your voice I heard telling me to wake up." He gives a nod and I can't help but notice his tall frame. He was tall in my dreams, but they didn't do him justice; he's even hotter – and taller- in person.

Being a 5'7'' tall girl in high school is basically one of the biggest cock blocks in the world. Finding a guy who is taller than me and wants to date me is a rarity since all the really tall guys somehow have a taste for the girls who are about as tall as a ten-year-old. And of course there are those five inch high heels in my closet I still haven't worn since I'd probably just end up looking down at my date. So it's easy for me to appreciate the fact that I have to look up at him for a change.

And his smell, I don't know whether it's cologne or… or something else but it's earthy and spiced and…. I have to swallow to keep myself from drooling.

I shake my head again, focusing isn't going well and that stare of his isn't helping. "Why did I listen to you? When you told me to wake up, it- it felt like…. Well when everyone else was telling me the same thing, I wanted to, I just couldn't. But when you said it, it was like I had to." My voice is full of uncertainty, and any second I'm expecting him to call me insane and walk away. "Why?"

Derek looks to the side and lets out a deep breath, "Let's start with something different; what are you doing out here?" his eyes stare deeply into mine, probing me for an answer.

I look down at the track below us, breaking eye contact, hoping for a chance to think, "I….I don't remember. One minute I was alone in my house, I closed my eyes, and now I'm here."

I look up, wondering if that's the answer he was looking for. He just nods silently for a moment, "And that's…. normal to you?" his eyebrows arch up in a sarcastic kind of way.

It suddenly dawns on me that I'm alone with a guy I've never met in the middle of the night with no phone, no car, and no way of escape. "The doctors said I might have some issues for a while with memory and things like that." I say in little more than a whisper as a feeling of worry slowly replaces the intrigue.

"Any other issues?" I open my mouth to answer no when flashes of my reflection in the mirror resurface. The fangs nipping at my lower lip, the gold, hate-filled eyes staring back at me.

"No," I try to sound calm, "nothing else."


I can't stop my eyes from roaming over her form; the tight fitting athletic clothes do nothing to hide the curves underneath, the curves I've only seen in photos and dreams….

My eyes drift lower and lower and I have to practically drag them back to her face. I find my mouth go dry as I focus on a pair of full, pink lips. Once again I tear my eyes away as my thoughts run wild.

I instead focus on her eyes, which turns out to be another mistake, because as soon as I do, flashes of the dreams resurface.

Her voice breaks my thoughts, probably for the better. "No, nothing else."

Her heartbeat speeds up, I look back to her and try to look past the two blue orbs that stare back at me, "You're lying, Avery." Her deep blue eyes frantically search my face, probably wondering how I knew; her full bottom lip shakes slightly in trying to find words.

Her eyes suddenly glaze over and she stares at me blankly. Her heartbeat jumps again and her eyebrows angle in an almost pleading way, "It was just a hallucination." She says in a trancelike voice, as if saying it will make it so. "It wasn't real." A shell of a smile forms on her lips, and a breath of humorless laughter escapes her mouth.

"Just like I'm not real?" Her eyes snap back to mine with a lost look in her eyes. She opens her mouth to respond, when a howl shatters the quiet of the night.


I turn to face the woods, looking for any sign of her near the edge of the brush. A familiar roar echoes through the trees.


"DEREK!" I look to see Boyd sprinting towards us with wide eyes. I run to meet him halfway across the field.

"I heard it!" I call out to him.

"Boyd!?" Avery asks in confusion, "What're you…?" Boyd and I slow as we reach the center of the field.

"Take her home, and I'll deal with it." Another, unfamiliar roar rips out from the forest. Boyd and I stare at each other for a moment; I give him a small nod as his jaw clenches.

"What do you want me to tell her?" he asks in a whisper.

Erica sends out another roar, "Nothing, don't tell her anything. Get her home, Boyd. Once she's there you head straight for the station, I might need your help."


Derek sprints into the woods, a mere blur under the lights. As his frame leaves my sight, something in me drops. Boyd jogs in a hurried pace toward me, "Boyd what's happening? What was that?" Boyd gently grabs at my arm.

"Avery we need to go. Now." His dark eyes are pleading, but I need an answer.

I tear his hand from my arm, "Where's he going?" I look back to the shadows of the forest where Derek disappeared. A roar ripples through the air it's so loud I can feel the vibration as it echoes. "Boyd, what's happening!?" I practically scream this time. He grabs my shoulders and looks deeply into my eyes, forcing my attention away from the forest and back to him.

"We have to go before something happens." This time a low growl rips through the night and something deep inside me screams;


I try to take a step towards the woods, but Boyd's hands hold me in place. "Just come with me and you'll know everything, I promise, Avery, but not here." He shakes his head to emphasize his words, "Not now."

I nod slowly, "Okay." He lets go of my shoulders hesitantly, making sure I don't make another move for the forest.

"Okay?" he asks as he holds out his hand.

I take his hand, "Yeah." He grasps my hand tightly and pulls me along toward the gates to the parking lot.

The sounds ripping out from the woods steadily grow closer as we walk, and Boyd pulls me along faster, practically jogging into the parking lot. In another few moments we break out into a sprint. I look down to my brace as we run; there's no pain, I'm running and I don't feel a thing.

Boyd notices me staring at my leg and comes to a stop before letting my hand fall back to my side. "Is your leg hurting?" He asks in a concerned voice. I just stare down at my brace and shake my head.

"No," I say after a moment, "I can't feel it at all." I look up and realize it's the perfect time to ask, "What happened back there?" I ask as I look back to the school in the distance; I was sure we weren't running that long… How did we get so far away?

Boyd clenches his jaw and sighs as he turns and walks down the sidewalk ahead of me. It just now hits me that he's wearing a black leather jacket just like Derek's. I walk fast to catch up, "What were those sounds? Is he going to be alright? I mean shouldn't we go help him-"

"Derek can take care of himself, don't worry." I look back at the bright stadium lights as Boyd practically speed walks in front of me.

"How can I not worry?! Why won't you tell me anything?" I notice we're walking on the sidewalk leading down my street, meaning I don't have much time to get answers unless he starts talking now.

"I can't." Is all he says, my house steadily creeps closer.

"Just tell me what those sounds were! Why would he-" Boyd comes to a dead stop in front of my driveway and I almost crash into his back from following him so closely.

He turns and looks at me with a conflicted stare, "I can't tell you that, you have to wait."

I practically glare back at him, "You said you'd tell me-"

"No, I said 'come with me and you'll know everything'; I never said I'd be the one to tell you." My hand clenches into a fist at my side.

"Great. Thanks." I say sarcastically as I brush by him toward my porch. I climb the steps quickly and when I reach the top Boyd's voice calls me.

"Avery," he says to get my attention. I don't turn around; instead I just turn my head to the side to show I'm listening. "Derek will find you when he's ready." I wait for a silent moment before reaching for the door knob, "Goodnight, Ave." Boyd says with a slightly disappointed voice.

I turn around to say goodnight in an effort to make up for my bitchiness to find him gone. I sigh and turn back around to the door before pulling it open and stepping inside.

A familiar and friendly voice comes from the living room and as I step inside I immediately lock eyes with Tori. She's sitting on one of the leather chairs, talking to my mom, who's obviously irritated. Tori stops talking and runs across the room to me, wrapping me in a hug and crushing her face into my chest.

Tori's face is squished up against my boobs but I doubt she cares about that right now. I can feel tears through my shirt and Tori sucks in air through a stuffy nose. It all suddenly dawns on me how much I've missed her and tears begin to stream from my own eyes.

"I t-thought you were gonna…" she doesn't finish the sentence; instead she pulls back and gives me a small smile as she tries to calm herself. She takes a few deep breaths and wipes the tears away.

"How long have you been here?" I ask as my mom steps closer with her arms folded over her chest.

"A couple hours, I was just waiting for you to get in." Tori says in a sniffle.

"Where were you Avery?" my mom interrupts with an angry tone. Tori and my mom both stare at me, waiting for an answer. I sigh and try to think of what to say.


I jog down the steps leading into the old abandoned train station, and from the sound of it, things aren't going too well. Erica's hisses echo through the halls as I come to the bottom of the stairs. As I walk in I notice Isaac propped up against one of the steel pillars, blood covering his clothes and deep cuts across his stomach.

Derek is rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and leaning down in front of Isaac. Erica is standing propped up against the train car with the pant leg of her jeans ripped off, she hisses in pain as she holds a towel tightly against a bloody cut on her leg. Erica slowly slides down the train car when she sees me. "Boyd?" she says tiredly as a small smile pulls at her lips. Her head turns to the side and I make a move toward her.

"Boyd, come help me." Derek almost barks. I look back to Erica, "She'll be fine Boyd, it's not that deep, Isaac took the worst of it and I need another set of hands." I pull myself away from Erica and come to kneel next to Derek. "Here, keep this tight on the wound," he hands me an old towel and I press it against the deep bloody scratch on Isaac's stomach.

"What happened?" I ask as Derek stands up and walks off to get something.

"Isaac and Erica were running back here through the woods, Isaac ran out ahead of Erica…. I've told you all to run together dozens of times, I'm not saying this shit for my own benefit, I'm saying it to keep you three alive. The alpha caught him off-guard, he's lucky Erica was there to save his ass, otherwise he'd be shreds of meat by now."

Isaac moans in pain lightly, "Did you catch up to him?" I ask as he strides back with a clump of bandages. He leans down next to me and begins working on Isaac's wound.

"Erica freaked him out for a minute; I guess he thought Isaac was alone. When I showed up he took off. I chased him but he's damn fast, and I had these two to deal with." Derek tears Isaac's shirt off with his claws and leans back, "I think he's gonna need stitches, he's just not gonna heal fast enough this way. Go get my car from the alley; we'll have to run him by the vet's." He pulls out his car keys from his jean pocket and hands them to me.

I jump up and jog toward the stairs before turning back, "Derek," he looks up at me, "what happens now?" Derek looks back down to Isaac for a minute.

"We get these two fixed up." Derek presses down on Isaac's stomach with the towel.

"And then?"

"Then we kill that fucker." He says with an alarmingly calm voice. He looks back at me and I nod before turning away and climbing the staircase.

The Next Day…

Sheriff Stilinski

I pretend to sift through the papers on my desk as I see Jackson's figure linger uneasily in the doorframe of my office. After a moment he clears his throat and steps forward. "You wanted to see me?"

I look up from the files and reach for my glasses, "Jackson, yes," I say as I pull them from my face, "come on in, have a seat." Jackson tucks his hands into his grey sweatshirt as he sits down in one of the chairs in front of me. "It's a bit hot out for a sweatshirt, isn't it?" I ask, watching as his hands nervously fidget under the cloth.

Jackson just shrugs and brushes the comment off, "Why did you want to see me again?" He asks anxiously.

I nod my head and lean back in my chair, "I had a few questions about this list you gave me," I pull the thin, blue-lined paper from under the folder and hold it up before sliding it toward him, "are you sure that you have everyone who was at your party on that list?"

Jake Reily.

Apart from Stiles and Scott, Jake was the only other lacrosse player whose name wasn't on that list.

Jackson's jaw tightens and his eyes close for a brief moment, "That's everyone I can remember being there." He says as he reaches over and pushes the paper back to me.

"Really?" I ask in a doubt-filled tone as I lift the paper back up as if I'm reading it over again. "What about Jake Reily?" I peek around the page as I say his name and Jackson freezes. I toss the paper back on the desk and lean forward, "Well, look at that," I say as Jackson shifts in his seat, "you look like you just remembered something, hmm?"

"I don't remember him being there, I was kinda busy." I lean back again as I take a deep breath. "Why don't you ask him if he was there? I can't remember every single person." I've already called the Reily family, all three of them in fact, and no answer from any of them. I finally ended up calling Mr. Reily's office, when his secretary told me I won't be able to reach him for a couple weeks.

"Because, Jackson, Jake and his parents are off on some vacation in the Caribbean for another two weeks and 'cannot be reached'." I say in the same tone Mr. Reily's secretary had used as I stand up and walk around my desk, "But just so you know, if I find out you're lying to me, there'll be hell to pay." I say as I walk out of my office and down the hall toward the evidence lockers.

Three Days Later….


"Just come with me and you'll know everything, I promise Avery, but not here. Not now."

I sigh and close my summer reading book, Oedipus Rex, knowing that I won't be able to focus anyway. I'll just end up ghosting through the pages with no real attention paid to what the words are saying.

I look up at my bent knees from my position lying down on the large brown leather couch. My brace clings to my leg, and a shudder runs through me at the sight of it. I toss Oedipus onto the coffee table and run my fingers over the thick black material around my knee.

The other night, when I was running with Boyd, my leg didn't hurt at all. The scar was a faint line when I took the brace off that night. But the morning after, the ache started slowly seeping back in, and the thin line once again became a puffy red scar.

A tight fitting white tank top clings to my torso as well as a rather uncomfortable bra, along with a pair of red Beacon Hills lacrosse shorts that end to a little bit above my mid-thighs. The small silver chain of my anklet hangs as a familiar weight and the small cross on the chain brushes against my foot lazily.

I stare up at the rotating ceiling fan as voices play over and over in my head. The blades spin continuously, but I just stare at the center as the blades turn.

Tall, black hair, green eyes, facial hair, leather jacket, striking, confident, and just plain hot.

"And gone." I remind myself in a mumble. I suddenly realize my legs have tensed just thinking about him.

I relax my legs and push my thoughts away from Derek Hale, only to find my thoughts wander back to Boyd. He seemed somehow different than when I last talked to him… but what changed?

He seemed… taller? No, that's not it… more muscular? Maybe he's been working out…. No, that's not it either. More confident…?

Boyd's always been kind of soft spoken, especially for being such a big guy, but yeah, he seemed more sure of himself, or maybe that was just situational. Even though I don't really know what the 'situation' was.

Or maybe it was just the leather jacket… then again, only some people look good in leather. Derek looked damn good in it; his shoulders looked big and broad, but I wonder what he looks like without the jacket. I'd bet he's got nice arms, and maybe a six pack….

I slap my palms over my eyes and force myself to calm down. I'll probably never see him again anyway so there's no point in stupid fantasizing.

"Derek will find you when he's ready."

A roar echoes through my head and I launch up into a sitting position, searching the room for the origin of the noise. After a few silent moments I slide my legs over the side of the couch and stand up. "Damn it." I mumble as I pull at the tight confines of my bra.

I make my way upstairs to my room to change into a sports bra. As I climb the stairs I hear the sound of my phone ringing in my room. I grab my phone from my nightstand and see it's my dad calling. I hit answer and bring it to my ear.

"Dad?" I ask in a questioning voice. My dad doesn't call much, mostly because of the 16 hour time difference between California and Japan.

"Hey, honey!" he says in a tired, but cheery voice. "Listen, I can't talk long, I have to be at work in about an hour," I glance at the clock, 2:08 P.M., which would make it about 6:08 A.M. there, "I just wanted to make sure you're enjoying your birthday gift!"

I sit down on my bed, "Oh, you mean the new lacrosse shaft you got me?" I look over to the shaft with the Maryland flag design all down the pole a deep sinking feeling fills me as I'm reminded that the Maryland coach called me just a few days ago saying my scholarship is in jeopardy of being revoked from all this, "Yeah, it's really cool and light, I'll have to-"

"Wait, your mother didn't give you my other gift?" I rub my forehead for a moment.

"Umm, no? What other gift? She just gave me the shaft."

My dad says something under his breath, "Alright, well, drive on over to the house and get your present, you can't miss it." Before my dad and mom divorced, we all lived in a big mansion-like house on the outskirts of Beacon. When my parents split, my mom moved us to our small house, closer to town. My dad lived in the other house for a couple years or so before leaving for Japan, and he just kept the house, always promising he'd come visit and I could spend a summer with him there. It never happened though.

"Well, what is it I'm looking for? Where is it in the house?"

"Like I said, you can't miss it. Gotta go; I'll call you later!" I roll my eyes, knowing he probably won't.

"Yeah, okay, talk to ya' later." I hit 'end' and toss my phone back on my bed before standing up and grabbing a pair of white mid-calf socks from my drawer. I slip them on, careful not to get my anklet caught up in the right one.

Lewis came by hours ago and picked my mom up to go out to the movies or something, so I can just take my mom's car. I hear a car pull up in the driveway and listen as I hear a car door slam.

"When Derek's ready, he'll find you."

I peek out the window to see a blue jeep in the driveway. My heart drops and I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding.

A minute later my doorbell rings and I grab my phone, Vera Bradley wallet, and spare car keys before heading down stairs. At the door mat I grab my red pair of Nike running sneakers and slip them on quickly before opening the door.

Stiles smiles cheerily at me, "Hey, Stiles." I say with a smile as I step outside and turn to lock the door behind me.

"Hey Avery, umm, are you going somewhere?" I quickly lock the door and turn back to him.

"Yeah, I was just heading out to my dad's house to pick something up." Stiles's shoulders drop a little bit. "Did you wanna talk about something?"

Stiles shrugs a bit, "No, I just- I just came to see how you were doing." The sinking feeling returns in my gut, the same one that's always there when I think about the accident. Which is almost constantly.

I force a smile on my face, "I'm doing fine, I'll be even better when I get this damn brace off." I point to it and force a short breath of a laugh. Stiles smiles and does the same. The smile doesn't touch his eyes though. His eyes look dark and somehow saddened.

"Can I, uh, can I give you a ride?" I almost say no, but his eyes just look sad, and I don't want to add to that feeling.

"Sure," I say with a smile. Stiles mirrors my smile and turns to walk towards the jeep. I've never talked to Stiles much, and yet he came to visit me in hospital, and now he's checking up on me at home. But, he's never been to my house.

As I open up the door that thought sticks with me. I brush it off for the moment and buckle my seatbelt in the old, beat up interior. Stiles gets in and starts the car with a smile, "So, where's your dad's house?" he asks as he puts it in reverse and backs out of the drive way.

"Just off of Evern Road, it's kinda hard to miss." Stiles drives along and pulls off my street as a questioning look crosses his face.

"Evern Road? That's pretty far out of Beacon, it's near the lake isn't it?" He glances over and I just nod with a polite smile.

After a few minutes of silence I decide it's the best time to ask, "So, how did you know where I live anyway?" A faint blush crosses his cheeks.

"Oh, I, well my dad is the Sheriff, and he's always leaving files around the house." I nod and turn away as the sinking feeling comes back. Stiles fidgets with the steering wheel, obviously uncomfortable about something. I turn away for a moment to look out the window, hoping the feeling in my stomach will subside.

"You're probably wondering why I keep showing up, right?" I look back to find his brown eyes giving me quick glances as he drives.

I'd be lying if I said no, "A little." I say honestly.

Stiles now just stares at the road ahead, I follow his gaze to one of Beacon's many roads. In front of us a green light turns to yellow, "When I was a kid, I used to get rides to lacrosse practice from my mom every Thursday. She'd drop me off at four, be back to pick me up at six, like clockwork. She hated people who were late, 'cuz she was always on time. Always." The light turns from yellow to red and we come to a slow stop behind the line.

In the far off distance, charcoal grey clouds hover in the sky, threatening yet another afternoon storm. Stiles just stares at the red light in front of us as he continues, "This one day, my mom dropped me off at four, just like always, I went to practice, ran some scrimmages and before I knew it, it was six and practice was over. Well, I walked around the parking lot for twenty minutes, looking for my mom's car; I ended up sitting with Scott in his mom's car while we waited for her."

Stiles's voice grows darker and more distant as he speaks, "They kept telling me she was 'just running late, it happens, she'll be here any minute.' I just sat there staring at the back of the driver's seat, I knew something was wrong. That wasn't like my mom, I knew it. About an hour later, a cop car pulls into the parking lot, lights flashing; no siren, just the lights. One of my dad's friends came, picked me up, and took me to the hospital."

The light turns green and Stiles hesitates for a few moments before he goes, "They didn't tell me anything and I didn't ask. I knew something had happened to her around the third time I'd looped around the parking lot looking for that old red truck she drove. What I didn't know was how hard it was gonna be those next few weeks. My dad was a mess, and I can't say I was any better. We couldn't talk to each other; neither of us could talk about how it would be without her, and there wasn't much hope…. We just sat there in her hospital room quietly, and she eventually just slipped away."

I turn my head toward Stiles after a few moments, "What happened to her?"

Stiles pulls off onto the back road to get to Evern Road, "Car crash." He says simply, I squeeze my phone in my hand just for something to hold on to. "She was on her way to pick me up when some guy ran the light and slammed into the driver's side of her car. She slipped into a coma at the hospital and after that she was just… gone."

The sinking feeling turns into more of a black hole in my gut, "Sometimes I wonder if it would have been easier if she had just….. But watching her lay there- but she wasn't really there, and when I tried talking to her, she just wasn't there, she couldn't hear me anymore."

I stare at the old, bumpy road as the woods pass by us on either side, "I could hear everyone." I say in a thoughtless whisper.

"What?" Stiles asks suddenly.

I turn toward him again, "I could hear everyone while I was in the coma. I listened to pretty much everyone I've ever known as they told me goodbye." Stiles looks at me with a meaningful expression and small tears in his eyes, "She could hear you Stiles." With a stuffy inhale he turns his gaze back to the road.

"I hope so." He says in a whisper I'm sure he didn't want me to hear.

The back roads make the ride pretty bumpy as the jeep drives along. Stiles tries to change the subject, "So has the Maryland coach said anything about the accident?"

I take a deep breath, "Yeah, she called and said my scholarship might be withdrawn, depending." My fingers fidget with my phone as I think about it.

"Depending on what?"

"On what I did, on what your dad finds, on a lot of things." I look down at my phone as I turn it over anxiously in my hands, "It's not looking good."

"Is this the place?" Stiles asks, I look up to see the long drive way leading up to my dad's house.

"Yeah, this is it." Stiles turns into the driveway and whistles as we get closer to the house.

"Damn, your dad lives here alone? Seems like a hell of a lot of space for just him." He says as he puts the jeep in park and stares at the place.

"He lives in Japan, I don't know why he never sold this place, he never visits anyway." I stare up at the massive brick house, which seems much bigger than I remember. The front yard is perfectly manicured, the grass is short and cut nicely, and the bushes and flowers in the plant bed by the porch are clean and healthy. It looks like it's regularly attended to.

"What's a house like this doing in the middle of the woods?" I don't answer him, I just stare at the place I used to call home and think of how empty it looks. "Sooo, do you wanna go in or….?"

"I don't actually have a key." I suddenly realize.

"Well, there's an electronic keypad on the garage, do you know the combo?"

I shake my head, "No, I don't have that either." I unbuckle my seatbelt and step out of the car. Stiles does the same and follows me as I walk toward the front door.

"Well, we could break in but…" As we get closer I notice an envelope tucked into the loop handle of the door. I grab the envelope and notice it has my name printed on the front. The paper is bumpy and ridged, like it's been rained on several times.

I open the envelope and find a small note with numbers on it.


Stiles looks over my shoulder at the numbers, "Maybe that's to the garage." I nod my head and walk back to the two door garage on the side of the house. From here we can see the lake in the distance. Thick woods keep the lake separate from the backyard; I remember thinking how beautiful the whole view looked from my bedroom.

As I type in the password, Stiles walks toward the backyard, "Dang your dad has an indoor pool too?!" I type in the last number and turn back to him.

"Wait, what?" I ask as he walks back to me.

"There's an indoor pool, you don't remember it being there?" he asks as the garage door finishes rising up. We both stare into the garage in awe.

"What the fuck?" I ask under my breath.

Chapter Text

Author's Note: I don't own any of the songs mentioned.



"How's it feeling?" Derek asks, I look up from examining the bandages wrapped around my stomach to see Derek as he reaches the last step of the staircase leading down into the station. His heavy boot hits the cracked tile floor and sends an echo through the endless tunnels.

Besides his question, Derek hardly acknowledges me; he takes a few steps in and shrugs off his jacket, throwing it on an old waiting bench about ten feet across from me before slumping down into it and rubbing his eyes with his hand. "Could be worse," I mutter bitterly as I pull my shirt back down over the bandages.

He inhales sharply and leans back against the bench with his hands folded behind his head, and his arms angled upwards. His black t-shirt makes his skin look much paler than usual. His eyes look dark and tired, and his voice sounds the same, "Erica saved your ass. If she hadn't-"

"I know." I say quietly. Derek just stares at me through half open eyes. I lean forward with my hands resting on my knees as I fidget with my hands, a habit I picked up when my father was around. I guess I haven't quite broken it yet.

"So, of course now you won't talk to her." Derek says with a slight tone of sarcasm. Silence fills the room, as he waits for an explanation.

"I just froze. I saw him and I just froze." I say after a couple minutes. "I caught a glimpse of him right before he lunged, but I just froze. Next thing I know he's on top of me, tearing at my stomach before Erica pulled him off me. But…I just froze." I look up and see Derek just staring at me.

"This has nothing to do with Erica then?"

"No, no, it's not her, it's just-" I look back down at my palms and pretend to rub something off them, "I'm tired of being the weak one." I say honestly. "I thought I was past it but then this happened and I'm back where I started."

"He's fast, Isaac. Even I had a hard time keeping up with him. There wasn't much time for you to react. That doesn't make you weak."

"But Erica-"

"Erica wasn't the one being ripped open, was she?" I clamp my teeth together as I remember my father throwing dishes across the kitchen, screaming about something meaningless as I huddle close in the corner of the room.

"She didn't freeze when she saw him. She reacted, she did something!" I yell suddenly as I look at him. My voice echoes harshly through the cold, dark hallways and tunnels. Derek stays in his relaxed position, as if we are talking about the weather.

"You're father's gone, Isaac. He doesn't control you anymore." I nod and look down as my father's screaming is drowned out by Derek's voice. "You need to get past it."

"I don't really know how."

"I can't hold your hand through everything. You'll learn how to get past it. Give it time." His voice is sure and certain, and I relax back against the bench and look up at the sunlight coming down from the entrance to the station.

"Have you talked to her yet?" I ask as I stare at the small patch of sun on the dirty tile floor.

"Not since yesterday, I think she's somewhere with Boyd today." For the first time I notice the tile's worn and grit covered small checkered design.

"No," I say, turning back to him, "I meant Avery." For the first time since he sat down, Derek's eyes widen, he tries to cover it up like he's just fixing his eyes. He widens them more and squints, in an attempt to play it off. I must've caught him by surprise with that.

I let out a breath of humor as he drops him arms and folds them over his chest instead. We stare at each other in a comfortable silence as he thinks. "I guess I should do that today."

"I don't think it'd be a good idea to put it off any longer; she's gonna need some time to…. Adjust to the whole thing. Took me a while, but I guess for Boyd and Erica it was easier." Derek just nods slightly. "I didn't really know her that well; I'm not sure how she'll take something this… freaky."

Derek's eyebrows crunch together, "'Freaky'?" I shrug and he looks at the ceiling.

"And what about Jackson? Has anything happened yet?" Derek shakes his head. "Well, what's wrong with him?"

"No fucking idea. He should either be dead or one of us now, but as far as I can tell, he's still human."

I let out a dry laugh, "As 'human' as he can be." I say in a bitter mumble. "You need a soul to change don't you? Maybe that's the problem…"


"Why aren't you smiling right now? You aren't happy?" Stiles asks in disbelief as I stare open mouthed at the huge red Hummer H2 parked in the garage with a black bow on the hood.

"What the hell do I do with it?" I ask, more to myself than to him. Stiles walks ahead of me to the driver's door.

"What do you mean?" He asks with outstretched arms, "You drive it!" He grabs the handle and pulls the door open, "You just get in and- oh,"

"What?" I ask in a half whine.

Stiles pops his head out of the car, "You know how to drive stick right?" He asks with a hopeful smile.

"Drive a what!?" Stiles's smile fades as he reaches up and scratches his head.

"Okay not so much…"He murmurs. I rush forward and look inside the monstrosity.

Sure enough, a stick shift sits in the center of the front seats. I take a deep breath and walk back out of the garage, "I can't even drive it! It's huge! Even if I could drive it, how the hell would I park it!? Oh shit," I say as I turn back to look at it. "Why…?"

"This would definitely not be my reaction if my dad put this in our garage…" Stiles mumbles to himself.

"Stiles, I had a tiny little sedan, and now I have a tank that I can't even drive." I walk up, rip the bow off the hood and toss it aside. "I just, I can't drive it."

"You're overreacting, here; I'll help you get it home." My eyes go wide.

"You drive stick shift!?" I ask quickly.

"Yeah, you didn't notice me switching gears on the way here?" I shake my head, and I relax; there's hope after all. Stiles reaches in the car and turns the key which hangs from the ignition. The engine roars to life before beginning a steady, low rumble. "How about we do a couple laps around the driveway for practice first?"

I give him a nervous smile and a nod. "Thanks, Stiles." I say as I move past him and climb up into the car. He shuts the door behind me and makes his way to the passenger side. I realize then that I can't reach the damn wheel with how far back the seat is. I sigh as I struggle to find the level to move it forward.

Meanwhile Stiles jumps in, buckles his seatbelt and watches as I grab under my seat trying to find the lever. He reaches over and pushes a button on the side of my seat, moving me forward to the wheel. I smile, half embarrassed, half frustrated already. "Thanks."

He just nods, then looks ahead, "Alright, let's start, first you have to put it in drive push down on the clutch, which is the pedal all the way on the left, and shift into first gear." I take a deep breath and reach to the shift on the steering wheel, and put it in drive before I hold down the clutch and shift into first.

A Few Hours Later…

We'd barely gone around the driveway five times and I'd stalled out, almost hit Stiles's jeep, and almost had a mental breakdown. Stiles hadn't gotten mad once, and it seemed like his patience had no end.

But the storm was rolling in for the afternoon, and we both decided that since I can barely drive the damn thing, I'd better just get it home before the bad weather came. So, Stiles followed me home to make sure I actually made it there.

Along the way I almost stalled out twice, and once again almost had a meltdown. But we'd made it back by some miracle.

I put the monster in park behind my mom's sedan and turned it off. Lewis's SUV is still gone, so they must still be out. The sky is covered in dark, threatening clouds, and the storm is just about to start. I step out of the car and turn back to the road to see Stiles leaning out the window of his jeep. I wave to him, "Thanks!" I call and he gives a smile and a wave before pulling away.

The sky suddenly lights up and a loud growl sounds. For a moment I hear the growl as the one from the forest, but then it changes to thunder. Rain begins pouring down on me as the last bit of light in the sky fades. "Oh shit," I say as I run towards the house.

My knee stings a bit each step, but I make it to the porch and quickly unlock the door with my keys. I step inside and toss my keys onto the table next to the door and slip my tennis shoes off before making my way up to my room.

My knee feels fine, which means now would be a good time to test it out. I walk in my room, toss my phone on my bed and quickly toss off my socks, shorts, and shirt. I gently unlatch the brace and toss it on my bed. I snag a pair of white tights and slip them on before pulling on a white leotard and pulling my hair up into a top bun. I slip a thin pink practice skirt over my hips and then grab my ballet slippers and tie the ribbons around my legs in a bow.

I grab my phone off my bed, refit my brace over my knee and head down to the basement. I walk down the stairs leading into the basement, finding the air colder than usual. I turn the corner and a flash of lightning sends light pulsing through the room. The rain pelts against the French doors across the room, and more quick flashes light up the backyard.

I flip on the bright studio lights, creating a whole new atmosphere in the room. The room is still cold, but the lights should heat it up soon. I walk in and plug my phone into the speakers across the room. The cracked screen of my phone lights up with the time as 6:45, and I wonder if Stiles made it home alright.

I open up Pandora radio and Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood comes on. Thunder shakes the smooth wooden floor and I walk over to the balance bar. I grip it tightly where the duct tape has been taped firmly around the spot where I'd splintered the wood, and lay my leg over the bar as I stand on my toes. I stretch towards my leg and repeat with the other leg as the music plays and the rain pours.

"All I am is a man

I want the world in my hands

I hate the beach

But I stand in California

With my toes in the sand

Use the sleeves of my sweater

Let's have an adventure

Head in the clouds but my gravity's centered

Touch my neck and I'll touch yours

You in those little high waisted shorts, oh"

I hold the bar as I slowly edge up on my toes, and test to see if there's any pain. I look down and smile at my brace when nothing happens. I let go of the bar and stand on my own. I let out a small laugh as I put all my weight on my 'bad' right leg and raise my left leg up behind my back and reach beck with my left hand and hold it there.

It's a basic position, but I can do it on my right leg with no pain. I smile and release my foot and try to do a small spin but find that the brace's stiff structure keeps me from being able to bend it correctly.

I lean down and toss it aside.

I begin doing an old, fast paced routine with a couple very un-ballerina-like moves thrown in. I laugh as I watch myself dancing in the mirror like I never have before. Without my mother's disciplinarian gaze, and the freedom from the brace, I just let myself move.

"She knows what I think about

And what I think about

One love, two mouths

One love, one house

No shirt, no blouse

Just us, you find out

Nothing I really wanna tell you about, no

Cause it's too cold

For you here

And now

So let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

And if I may just take your breath away

I don't mind if there's not much to say

Sometimes the silence guides your mind

So move to a place so far away

The goosebumps start to race

The minute that my left hand meets your waist

And then I watched your face

Put my finger on your tongue

Cause you love the taste yeah

These hearts adore

Everyone the other beats hardest for

Inside this place is warm

Outside it starts to pour"

The room now seems hot and humid, and my skin is sticky with sweat. I take a deep breath and smile to myself as I walk back up the stairs to get a bottle of water.

I never really liked dancing, but maybe I just didn't like my mother's dancing. It felt rigid, confining. Boring. I like my way much better; with pieces of my own moves thrown in. It's actually fun for once.

I smile to myself as I open the fridge, grab water, and take a big drink as I head back down into the basement. The smile on my face fades away. The air is cold and damp now. There's a heavy breeze running through the room.

The music has stopped. The sound of rain is loud and clear, and a clap of thunder echoes into the room. I slowly turn the corner and see one of the French doors is wide open. Rain drops hit my face as the wind carries them inside.

I run over as fast as I can manage in ballet slippers and close it. I reach up to the latch above the door and pull it into the lock. I step back and look at the huge puddle on the floor. "Shit," I say under my breath. Water and waxed floors don't mix well. I look at the puddle, trying to judge how many paper towels I'll need when a separate puddle catches my eye.

I look and see another puddle, and another, and another, leading back towards the stairs. I drop my water bottle and try to hold my breath to keep from hyperventilating as I hear light footsteps upstairs. They footsteps wander around, apparently in no hurry.

I almost turn and open the door to run out into the rain when I hear the front door open. My mother's voice echoes through the room and two sets of footsteps gradually grow louder as they walk closer to the intruder.

I listen for the first pair of footsteps, whether they'd run towards my mom and Lewis, or run away or… something.

But, as my mom and Lewis continue talking and walk deeper into the house, they don't yell, or scream, they just carry on with their conversation.

"Avery?" My mom calls out. I let out a shaky breath as I look back down at the large wet footprints leading upstairs. I shake my head and open my eyes, but they're still there.

"Down here!" I call in as even a voice as I can manage. I take a few deep breaths and look in the mirror. My eyes are wide, and my hair is beginning to fall out of the bun. I quickly tuck what hairs I can back into the bun and do my best to smooth out my face.

My mom's footsteps slowly make their way down the stairs; I walk back to the bar and pretend to be stretching. The first thing I notice as my mom walks into the room is her beautiful auburn hair that is in curls around her shoulders.

Next I see her eyes, which look at me with a casual coldness. "What is that parked in the driveway?" She asks in an almost accusing voice.

Something in me stirs, and the thought that she knew about the car but kept it from me only makes it worse. "You mean dad's present you never told me about?" I ask in a matching accusatory tone.

She folds her arms and looks down for a brief second, contemplating how she can turn the conversation back on me. "I didn't think it was a good idea to get you a car so soon after you-"

I let out a dry huff of laughter as I straighten myself up from stretching and stare at her reflection in the mirror, "After I what? Got drunk and crashed my first one?"

"That wasn't what I was going to say." She snaps back.

"But it is what you were thinking." She unfolds her arms and steps forward.

"What are you doing down here anyway?" she asks as she looks me up and down.

"Trying to get the strength back in my knee, Luke said this was the best way to slowly ease back into it." My mother's icy blue eyes roll.

"Ease back into lacrosse?" She asks with acid in her voice.

"Yes, back into lacrosse." I say with an eye roll of my own. I grip the bar and lift my right leg over the bar and stretch it back out, hoping that once she sees I'm busy she'll leave. I lean towards my leg and look down at the floor.

"When will you understand? It's over, Avery. Lacrosse is over." I slowly raise my head to look at her. "Even if you weren't driving, you were drunk. You know they won't take you after that. You might as well close the book on lacrosse, and focus on what you can do." She looks me up and down again.

"I'd start with losing a couple pounds; your thighs are getting a bit big to be a ballerina." With that, she turns and walks towards the stairs.

"It's muscle." I practically yell back at her. "And I need them for lacrosse season."

She doesn't turn around; instead she says in an even, direct voice, "I want that car out of my driveway." And then she walks back up the stairs, leaving me glaring at the spot where she stood. My fingers hold the bar tightly, the wood bending under my grip.

Everything feels distant and blurry all of a sudden. I watch as I step back from the bar, my jaw clenched tight, my hands in fists. I walk over to my discarded brace and snatch it up from the floor. Next I walk to the speakers and grab my phone.

I walk up the stairs and then to my room. I tear the slippers off, followed by my skirt, leotard, and tights. I put my white tank top back on, then pull my red Beacon Hills lacrosse shorts back up my legs before tugging my white mid calves back on and ripping my hairband out of my hair, ruffling my hair messily and looking in the mirror.

My eyes look cold, almost as cold as my mother's. My head feels fuzzy but I look down at the top of my dresser and spot the folded up paper that lies by my fingers. I pick the page up and unfold it roughly.

A list of visitors, followed by the dates they visited as well as the times line the age in neat columns. My eyes drag over each name, and with every line my vision grows more and more faded. My mother's laughter rings through the house and heat begins coursing through my face and ears.

I feel disconnected, like something in me is severed. I feel myself walking slowly back downstairs, the page clamped in my right hand, my phone and brace in my left. Lewis and my mother keep laughing as I reach the bottom of the stairs.

I walk to the door, and slip my white Nike running shoes on absent mindedly before my mother breaks out of her laughter, "Avery?" She asks suspiciously, "Where are you going?"

"What do you care?" I ask bitterly as I reach over for the Hummer's keys.

My mother comes and stops right in front of me, "What's that supposed to mean, Avery?" She says as she glares at me.

"I don't know," I say darkly, "what does it mean when a kid I barely know from school comes to visit me in the hospital more times than my own mother?" My voice holds an edge I don't remember it having before.

"What are you talking about?" her voice is cold and serious. I lift the page up to her face abruptly. After a moment she pushes my hand down, the simple gesture makes me shudder with disgust. I crinkle the paper and tuck it into the hem of my shorts.

She gives me the sad puppy eyed look she does when she tries to make me feel guilty as she says, "Do you know how hard it was for me to be there? To see you like that?" she reaches toward my cheek, as if to caress it.

I grab it before she gets anywhere close. "Don't you dare." I practically growl. "Dad came from Japan to see me. And you couldn't even miss a ballet class." A glint on her finger catches my attention. I twist her hand over and she lets out a hiss of pain. Lewis suddenly appears behind her, a worried look on his middle-aged face. I stare at the diamond ring for a minute before I reach up and turn it over.

A well-worn groove on her finger shows that the ring has been there for quite some time. "When were you going to tell me?" I say as I throw her hand back at her with enough force to throw her back into Lewis, who helps her balance before stepping in front of her towards me.

"Now that's enough!" He attempts to say in a domineering voice. I let out a small, dark laugh that I don't recognize. My laugh makes him mad, and he lashes a hand out towards me, trying to grab my arm. I hit his hand aside, my vision going red.

"Not quite." I say in a low voice before I throw my hand forward into his chest, sending him flying back into my mother. They both topple over onto the hardwood floor and look up at me with wide, horrified eyes. Lewis makes wheezing noises as he gasps for air.

I turn back to the key table and snatch the Hummer's keys up. I look up into the mirror above the table and find two razor sharp eyes staring back. The red slowly fades out, leaving me staring back at the harsh gold color that has overtaken my normal dark blue irises.

I turn and throw the door open quickly, only to take a step outside and turn back. "I don't know what's worse," I say, looking at the two pathetic bodies still staring at me from the ground, "the fact that you never cared, or that you pretended to just to get one up on dad all these years."

My mother's eyes grow cold and sharp, a vein of anger popping out on her neck. "GET OUT AVERY!"

I slam the door closed behind me and run out toward the big red Hummer, rain pouring down on me, soaking me clear through. I can hear her voice behind me, "GET OUT!"

I jump in, my heart beating fast, my breathing harsh, and the heat still covering my face. I shove the key into the ignition and throw my brace and phone into the backseat.

I can't drive this damn thing. I'll be lucky if I get a mile away without stalling, God I wish Stiles was here.

I look back into the foyer through the small front window, but see nothing. Heat rushes back to my ears. I check the rearview mirror as I turn the car on, and see the gold eyes staring back, causing my heart to stir up again in rapid beats. I squeeze my eyes shut and turn the car on. As soon as the headlights come on, they reflect off the garage, reflecting light behind my car.

I open my eyes and gasp as I see Derek just standing there, looking back at me through the rearview mirror. Rain pours all around him, but he doesn't seem to mind at all. "Well?" I ask, the adrenaline wearing off and realization of what I just did setting in, "Are you coming?" I ask, as if he can hear me. My eyes glow back at him, and as he steps around the car, a red streak of light follows his own eyes.

To my surprise, he slowly walks toward the passenger side. I breathe in deep; what the hell am I doing? Where am I going? I don't even know him, what is he doing here? How does he know where I live? Where can I go with him?

I take deep breaths, the rain soaked my hair, making the smell of my shampoo fresh again, I try to find some comfort in the pear scent as he opens the door and slides in. I look over at him, not knowing exactly what to say. He just stares at me, looking in my glowing eyes as if judging something. I feel my heart jump again, sending my vision back into the red tint.

"Right," I say as I reach down and shift into first gear while pushing the clutch. I back out smoothly, and make it to the main road without a problem. My mother's cold look stares at me in my mind, Lewis's face as he tried to grab me burns my eyes, and I only see red.

I shake my head as we come to a red light, but then, everything looks red. I shift terribly back to first gear, the car makes a groan of displeasure and I set my jaw, trying to keep it together. I look down as we sit in silence and realize that a white tank top was a terrible idea. The fabric is thin and transparent when it's wet, and it clings to my skin, revealing my white lace bra like looking through a window.

My heartbeat fills my ears, I can't breathe, my head is spinning, and everything is blurry.

The other lanes all make their way across the intersection and I just rest my elbow on the window ledge and rub my forehead. "What were you doing at my house?" I ask, my voice shaking.

My right hand grips the wheel harshly, my fingers turning white with pressure. Rain pounds against the windshield, claps of thunder practically shake the car. I look over to him, just to make absolutely sure he's real, and actually there.

He sits with one arm resting on the armrest, the other on his leg. Rain drops run down from his spiky black hair, and his green eyes just make me more nervous, "Please," I say, turning back to the road, trying desperately to catch my breath, "Please, just say something." The light turns green and I shift sloppily into gear, making the car groan again. "Fuck." I say loudly as the car jumps forward before it switches completely.

"Avery, you need to calm down." He says with a direct, forceful tone.

"What does it mean when a kid I barely know from school comes to visit me in the hospital more times than my own mother?"

I try to take a deep breath and calm down. My face is hot, and I can't breathe. I flip on the AC, and try to drown out the words in my head, "What were you doing there?" I ask again in another shaky tone.

"I need to talk to you." He says simply, his voice calm and serious.

"Oh, right," I chuckle acidly, "Boyd said you'd stop by." I look over and see him through blurry eyes and give him a wide smile, "I'm so glad you chose today!" I say with sarcasm dripping from my mouth. I switch into third gear with another groan and speed past a stop sign.

"Now that's enough!"

"Not quite."

Heat just courses faster and faster until my vision begins to pulse blood red. "So what is it? What do we need to talk about?" I ask as the light ahead of us turns yellow, I shift horribly to fourth and the car shakes before jumping forward and running the red light.

"This is your car, isn't it?" He asks, now with what seems to be a nervous edge to his voice. I nod my head and get a quick glance at him, but instead of the wide eyed 'you're a crazy bitch' look, he actually looks worried, or something… maybe it's just the tears blurring his expression. I change lanes harshly and cut off a minivan, sending it screeching behind us.

"Yeah." I say, with a 'hard to believe, right?' tone.

"But you can't drive a stick shift?" the sarcastic smile I've been keeping on my face to try to tape myself together fades, and I just stare at the road ahead as it all speeds by. The rain pelts against the windshield, and everything around me just becomes noise as I stare at the yellow line. My left hand loosely holds the wheel, and my right hand grips the shift harshly.

I'm pulled out of my daze by his warm palm gently wrapping around my hand on the shift. I turn and see his green eyes speaking for him. I push down on the clutch and his hand directs mine into shifting to the third, then second, then first gear as I pull off to the side of the road and finally put the car in park.

I look in the rearview mirror as the gold drips away from my eyes, leaving the pool of dark blue behind. My heart hurts, and my breaths feel shallow, but the red fades away, and I lean back against the leather seat.


I take my hand off hers, and look at the tears running down her face. I'd been watching her dance through the basement door for maybe ten minutes, just watching her body bend and flex in a mesmerizing way. The storm outside was raging on, yet she smiled and laughed, oblivious to the storm on the other side of the door.

I found a small smile on my face just watching her twist and turn as she laughed at herself in the mirror. I almost left, almost walked away and told myself tomorrow would be better.

But I'd told Isaac today was the day, and I had to follow through.

So when she walked up stairs, I used my claw to reach through the seam of the door and unlatch the sliding lock. I left the door open, letting the storm penetrate the warm room, letting her know I was there.

Although they may not even realize it, new werewolves are stimulated by the scent of their Alpha, and whether they catch the scent or not, the change it accelerated by it, and they seek the Alpha out.

From upstairs I could hear her heart beating faster, even if it was in fear at first, she would have followed me eventually. But then those two came home.

And then the argument started.

I slipped out one of the dining room windows and ended up outside by the porch, just waiting for her to change. I could hear her heart, and sense she was damn close to changing, but she held off. She never fully changed; her fangs and claws stayed tucked away somehow.

She kept the adrenaline carefully in check, but you can only hold back the wolf so long, and it was trying to claw its way out. Another perk to being an alpha is being able to control - to an extent- a beta's emotions. I helped her out of the change.

Now she stares blankly at the road, tears streaming down her face. "She never cared. Never." Avery says in a cold voice. "Do you know how many times she visited me in the hospital?" she looks over at me, "Four." She leans back and lets her head be propped up by the headrest.

"There was a kid I hardly knew, and he visited me triple that!" She shakes her head, "I can't remember how any of this happened, my scholarship is probably going to be taken away, I can't go back home, I can't drive this damn car," She slams her wrist into the steering wheel, "I'm sitting in a car with a stranger, and to top it all off, my mom doesn't give a shit about me."

Her eyes slowly lose the shine, and she wipes away the last of her tears.

Suddenly the minivan she cut off comes driving by, the driver honking the horn as an old woman in the passenger seat flips us off.

Avery lets out a half laugh, half sob and covers her face with her hands. "Do you want me to drive?" I ask. She drops her hands into her lap and opens her teary eyes; she looks at me with an uncertain, lost stare.

"You know how to drive this thing?" she asks in a desolate voice, "I don't even know where I'm going," she whispers, "and I hardly know you." She stares into my eyes, and I struggle to keep my head clear.

I give her a crooked smile, "You will," I say as I open the car door and step out into the rain. In an instant I'm opening the driver's side door, and Avery looks up at me in confusion.


"Slide over," I say. Avery unbuckles her seatbelt and crawls over the center divider, her ass up in the air. I raise an eyebrow as I watch her settle into the seat, and then look back at me. Her bra shows clear through her shirt and for a moment I thank the rain for being cold and heavy.

I clear my head and slide into the driver seat, not bothering with the seatbelt. "Alright," I say, glancing over at her through red eyes as I turn the keys, "where to?" I laugh as she stares at me in surprise before being jolted back when I hit the clutch, shift into gear, and tear off onto the road.

She hits back against the seat, but keeps her eyes on me. Her damp hair sends sweet smelling waves through the car, filling my nose as I try to focus on the road instead of her wide eyes looking at me from the corner of my eye. "No, first tell me what you came to tell me. What were those sounds in the woods the other night? And who are you?"

"I need to know where we're going, unless you just want to drive in circles all night. And you know who I am." She takes a deep breath and sits back.

"Right, Derek Hale." She says disbelievingly. "Do you know where Evern road is?" I give a quick nod, trying to think of how to get there from a main road. The fastest way would be through the back roads, and I definitely need to get some space from her as soon as possible.

I open my window a bit, trying to get some fresh air and get her scent out of my nose. From the corner of my eye, I can see her leaning against the window, just watching me. "Just tell me already." She says finally. "What were you doing?" When I don't say anything, she sits up and puts her hand on the emergency brake.

"Tell me or I'm stopping the car." she says evenly.

"Pull it and you'll ruin the car. And I doubt you want another accident on your record." I say as a warning. Her fingers loosen around the brake and she turns back to the window with an expression of misery. A stab of guilt runs through me as she leans her forehead against the window and brings her legs up to her chest, wrapping them in one arm and using the other to wipe her cheeks.

"I knew this was a mistake." she whispers to the window. "This was all just a mistake."

"Not all of it." I say. She looks over at me with a doubtful stare. I turn on the radio for background noise, "Just relax," I say as I roll through the stations before settling on one playing Faint by Linkin Park, "we'll be there soon."

"I am a little bit of loneliness a little bit of disregard

Handful of complaints but I can't help the fact that everyone can see these scars

I am what I want you to want what I want you to feel

But it's like no matter what I do, I can't convince you, to just believe this is real

So I let go, watching you, turn your back like you always do

Face away and pretend that I'm not

But I'll be here 'cause you're all that I got"

I turn off onto one of the many back roads, sending a puddle of mud flying off the side of the road and into the tree line. After another few minutes, Avery leans forward and points toward a long, paved driveway off to the right. "This is it."

I pull up to a large house, with no lights on inside. Avery unbuckles herself and reaches into the backseat, flashing a view down her shirt. She sits back in her seat with a phone and her knee brace. She hits numbers on her phone and brings it up to her ear.

"Dad?" she asks, rolling her lips over each other as she tries to keep herself composed, "I know it's a bad time for you," she says, looking down at her lap as a tear falls, "I know," she clamps her eyes shut, "mom and I had a fight, and…." She wipes her cheeks and inhales sharply, "she kicked me out." Her dad's voice sounds soft, as he speaks. "No," she says back to him, "I don't really want to talk about it tonight, I'm parked outside the house but I forgot the code."

After another few murmurs from her dad Avery says, "Alright, thanks dad. I'll talk to you tomorrow." I turn the car off and hand her the keys. She doesn't look up at me as she takes them, tucks them in her hand and takes a deep breath before opening the door and running to the garage through the rain.

I follow her lead and stand by her as she types in the combination and the doors slowly lift open. She walks inside and closes the door behind us. Her eyes search the room and she finds the door leading inside.


I open the door leading in to what I think should be the laundry room, if I remember right. Sure enough, I step inside to see a big white washing machine alongside a dryer on the right wall. It's dark in the room, but some light flashes weakly from the automatic light on the door. It's enough light for me to see the door to the hallway.

I open the hallway door and step through. Derek follows close behind me; the heat coming off him is the only thing that lets me know he's there. For a guy his size, he's practically silent.

I look around, trying to remember which way leads to the living room. The air is cold, sending a shudder up my legs and through my body. A flash of lightning lets me see a light switch on the wall across from us. I reach forward and flip all the switches on.

The hall suddenly bursts with light, and the rooms to our left and right do the same. I walk through the archway out into the foyer. Above me hangs a large, dusty chandelier. The glass pieces bend and wave in the shape of flames all around the bulbs at the center, making it look like a brilliant star. The dark hardwood floor is dull under a heavy coat of dust, same with the stairs that wind up to the second floor.

I remember sliding down the banister when I was a kid, but I don't remember anything about a chandelier being here. I look back to the hallway to see Derek just staring at me. "Something wrong?" he asks in his low voice.

I look back up to the chandelier and shake my head, "No," I turn back to him and walk past him and under the next arch leading into living room. "I just don't remember any of this." I say as I stare at the huge charcoal grey 'U' shaped couch facing a ridiculous flat screen hanging on the plain white wall. Underneath the TV, a long empty glass case sits in the wall with a silver outline.

The couch is littered with grey and red pillows, and at the center of the room is a large red fuzzy rug sitting on the dark wood floor. On the side wall hangs pictures of my dad and me, either together or separate, but none with my mom.

Derek walks in behind me, his chest practically touch my back. I step forward, feeling my stomach turn at him being so close. Instead I step towards the glass case under the TV. "What the heck is this?" I ask myself as I tap the glass. I can feel his eyes watching me, and that just makes me more nervous. I shake my head, "Doesn't matter I guess." I look up to see him just watching me. His black shirt clinging to his body. Damn I wish he'd take off the jacket to I could just confirm the presence of a six pack.

Another shiver runs up my legs and I realize the heating must be off. "Alright," I say, just hoping I can find the thermostat in this stupid place, "I'm just gonna go see what I can do about the heating, maybe grab some towels, too." I say, pulling at the clingy wet fabric of my tank top.

I walk past him and then turn back, "Just, please doesn't run off this time, hmm?" He doesn't turn to me; instead he walks toward the wall of pictures.

"No promises." He says in a lighter tone. I walk into the hall and open a random door. The room has a toilet, sink, and mirror.

"Nope," I sigh and turn away. I open another one to find an empty closet. My clothes are cold and itchy, and I don't even want to think about what a mess my hair must look like right now. I try to remember where the thermostat is in my mom's house.

"The kitchen..?" I ask myself. But where even is the kitchen?

I walk back into the living room to see Derek still looking at the pictures on the wall. I look to the left and notice I'd completely ignored the other half of the room. I walk into the darkened space and flip on the light. Stainless steel appliances scatter the kitchen, along with black cabinets and a breakfast bar along with a couple of stools. I look along the walls and finally find the thermostat.

After a couple minutes of messing with it, I get the thing working, and hopefully heating at a nice and toasty 78 degrees. I turn the light off and step back into the living room. I steal a quick glance at Derek, who is right where I left him, before I walk quickly back down the hall and make my way up the stairs.

It takes me four tries to find the linen closet and I grab a couple towels. I find my dad's room and search through his drawers. I'm freezing and these wet clothes have to go. Luckily my dad seems to have left all his sweats behind, and I take a couple pairs of sweatpants, a sweatshirt and a shirt in case Derek wants to change too.

I gather my pile of clothes and towels and head back downstairs.

"Here," I say, dumping the pile onto the couch unceremoniously, "If you want to change out of your wet clothes I brought some," Derek turns around with a small, old blue lacrosse stick in his hands. I stare at it for a second, "Where did you find that?" I ask.

Derek walks over and hands it to me. "It was sitting against the wall." He says. I run my fingers over the dented metal shaft, before thumbing the torn stringing of the head.

I smile, "This was my first lacrosse stick," I say as I lower myself next to the pile of clothes on the couch, "my earliest memory of my dad was him putting it in my hands and tossing me the ball." I let out a bitter laugh, "It's stupid, I can remember all this unimportant crap, but…" I look up at Derek and find him staring blankly at me. I shake my head and toss the stick on the couch. "It doesn't matter." I say as I stand up look back up to him.

"If you want to change, you can," I say, grabbing the black pair of sweatpants up and holding them up about where I think his hips are as I check between the pants and his frame for reference. Before I realize he's taken a step, he's right in front of me, my knuckles against his hips and his eyes looking down at me. My heartbeat fills my ears and everything spins around me.

I let go of the pants and they fall between us as he takes another step closer and brushes my cheek with his palm. I close my eyes and let his warmth and scent surround me.


Her eyes close and she presses her cheek further into my hand. Her heart hammers away, and her lips hang loosely open, exposing the tips of her fangs. "Avery," I say as my eyes turn red. She opens her eyes slowly, and two gold orbs stare back at me in a daze.

My own heart speeds up as I remember a flash of my dream; the same daze in her eyes and a silent scream on her lips as I slam into her again and again.

Heat courses through me and my jeans feel too damn tight. I let go of her cheek, if only to stop myself from taking her here, hard and fast, just like I have in my dreams. Her head drops and she snaps back, her blue eyes wide and shocked.

"Good," I say, somehow managing to keep the wolf from devouring her, "now let's talk." She looks up at me in fear.

"What the hell did you do to me?" Avery whispers.

I step away from her and take a seat on the couch, making sure to cover my crotch with the end of my jacket.

God, what is it about this girl that leaves me feeling like a teenager again?

"You were in the hospital dying," I say evenly as she lowers herself onto the opposite side of the couch, her head in between her hands, "I saved you." She looks up at me in pain.

"What are you talking about?"

"You were in a coma, dying. I made sure you survived." Her eyes stare back blankly. "You must have noticed by now," I say as I let the red of my eyes show. She edges back an inch.

"What are you?" she asks.

"Shapeshifter, lycanthrope, were-"

"Werewolf?" she finishes. When I raise my eyebrow in surprise she adds, "I've read the stories."

I nod, "There's lots of different names for us."

"When you say 'us', you mean…?" she holds her bottom lip in her mouth, biting on it nervously.

"I bit you, Avery. It was the only way to save you." Her hands shake in her lap.

"Why? Why save me? What do you want?" I look at her thin, white lace bra that shows through her shirt and several of the dreams cross my mind.

"Lots of things."

Chapter Text

Author's note: Once again, I don't any of the songs/ lyrics included.



So this is it. The eyes, the teeth, the red vision, the freaky mood swings, everything. "Why? Why save me? What do you want?"

My head is light, my stomach is empty, and my throat is dry. He stares at me with his green eyes, a small smirk crossing his face as he says, "Lots of things."

I let out a breath of a laugh, my bottom lips quivers as I smile, "Oh, good." I let my face drop into my hands again and I take a couple deep breaths.

This can't be real. This can't be real.

I rub my forehead with my fingers, any second now this dream will be over. "I thought I was going crazy," I say with bitter humor as I lift my head and look back at him with a quivering smile, "turns out I'm just a werewolf."

I pull my lower lip between my teeth and hold it there to keep it from shaking. Derek just stares at me, and I will myself to not shake under his gaze. "You want proof?" he asks, as if he's trying to find a solution to an unasked question.

I shake my head, "No," I say quickly before taking a dry swallow. "I don't think I could handle it right now." I need a hot shower, dry clothes, warm soup, about a year's worth of sleep, but mostly, I just need this night to be over.

"The…the red..." I point to my eyes, Derek looks at me with a calm, patient stare that just seems to make me even more nervous.



"The…the red…" she points to her eyes with shaking hands.

I nod my head, "It helps us to see in the dark, like night vision." Her eyes drop to the floor and her body trembles slightly.

"And… and what do werewolves….do?" She asks, her eyes focused on the floor.

I lean back against the sofa, hoping she'll follow my lead and relax. "That depends." I say evenly, waiting for her to look up at me.

Another couple of seconds and she raises her eyes, "Can we please just skip this 'ominous answer' thing? I really don't think I can handle it right now." The side of my mouth pulls up at that.

"Let's start simple then," I say. Avery finally leans back and lets her shoulders drop from their rigid position, "like I said, the red vision is good for seeing in the dark, but it's also a good sign to tell that you're about to shift. When that happens, you need to get somewhere secluded and try to calm down." Avery stares at me with her knuckles under her nose and her palm pressed against her lips.

There's a mixture of fear and realization on her face. She knows I'm serious, and that what I'm saying is true, but there's still a part of her that doesn't want to accept it. I've seen the same look on Scott's face before.

"The shift starts when your heartbeat rises, especially when you get angry, like back in your house," her eyes become distant and faint, I try changing the direction to steer her back, "eventually controlling your temper won't be much of a problem, but it's going to take a lot of time." I think back to the house and how she managed her temper well enough to leave instead of shift. Her hand hides her mouth, forcing me to rely on her eyes for any sign of emotion. She just nods faintly, "And practice." I add, still trying to get anything out of her.

"How do I practice something like that?" she asks in a tiny whisper, her eyes still lost.

"I can teach you, Avery." her eyes snap back, her attention fully on me. "You're part of my pack now, I can show you." She stares back at me cautiously, "I can teach you how to not only control your abilities, but to use them to your advantage. You'll be able to do things humans can't; you'll have things they don't have- speed, strength, agility, heightened senses," nothing changes in her face. By now, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were all practically drooling. But not her.

She just sits there, staring at me with those damn eyes.

"rapid healing-"

Her hand drops from her mouth and she sits forward with a wide eyed look, "Can you help me remember?" her heart pounds with anticipation.

There's nothing I can do for that.

"Can you?" she asks after I don't answer for a few moments.


"If that's what you want." I say instead, trying to preserve the light in her eyes.

"I have to," she says honestly, "I think I'll go crazy if I don't."


Everything is a blur, and I feel dizzy. A steady hum makes the world around me feel dull. I look out the huge back window that leads out to the porch and watch as the lightning cracks, but I can't even hear the thunder. The humming stops and I look over to see Derek's eyebrows pushed together, and his lips in a firm line.

I stand up, my head still turning, and force myself to keep steady as I reach down to the couch, snatch up the sweatpants and oversized sweatshirt, I hold them loosely in my hands. "I'm sorry," I say through the blur, "I just, I need a couple minutes."

He gives a small nod and I draw away from the couch and towards the doorway.

I walk through the hall and into the bathroom I'd found only minutes before. I flip the light on, step inside and lean myself up against the door. I slowly lower myself to the cold tile floor and hold the sweatshirt and pants close to my chest.

I reach up to the sink and turn on the hot water, letting the steam fill the room. The pale blue walls seem to sway like the ocean as the steam floats up through the air. The room stops spinning, but the lightness of my head doesn't leave me.

I pull the sweat clothes away from my chest and begin pulling off my wet clothes, starting with my soaked shoes and socks. My anklet and toe ring glimmer under the lights and the deep blue nail polish on my toes only confirm that this isn't a dream. Dreams don't have those little details. The details you sometimes forget even when you're awake.

Resting my head against the door, I lift myself up and tug my shorts and underwear down my legs before reaching down and yanking the socks off as well. I pull the sweatpants along the floor and slip them up my legs. I paw and tear at the thin white tank top before throwing it at the wall, sending a satisfyingly loud whip as it strikes and slides down the pale blue surface, cutting through the thick, billowing steam in the air.

I reach behind my back and clench the bra hooks together, letting the bra straps fall from my shoulders. I pull the sweat shirt over my head and tug it into place. My hair is a wet, knotted mess, and I pull it into an ugly side bun before pulling myself off the floor and to the sink.

I turn the water to a medium heat and splash water in my face. I don't want to look in the mirror. I know I won't like what I'll see.

I look up into it anyway.

My hair is hair dried, half soaking, and fully raggedy. My eyebrows are unruly, the hairs pointing every which way. I run water over my fingers and soothe them back into a curved, tame line. What's left of my mascara is running down my cheeks, leaving ugly black lines on my face.

I grab my tank top from the floor and let the hot water run over it before using it to wipe away the stains on my face. I think about the hot, rugged, deep green eyed, leather jacket wearing-


I sigh, and turn the water off. The sweatshirt makes me look like a twelve year old boy, and the sweatpants are too damn big to show I have any ass at all. But then, I guess it doesn't matter anyway.

I roll the pants up as much as I can so they aren't dragging on the floor so much, but there's not a real noticeable difference. I bundle my wet clothes up into a ball and grab my shoes before taking a deep breath and stepping back out.

I walk into the living room and see Derek standing by the long glass case, which now has a fire inside it. "So that's what that does." I say as his eyes look me up and down. I resist the urge to have another crying fit. There's just an extra cut of pain when really, really hot people see you looking your worst.

"Right," I say as his stare makes me feel nervous once again, "listen I don't know about you but I'm exhausted, so I'm just gonna go to bed." A flash of lightning cracks the room in half and for a second the lights dim, "you should probably stay," I say as I watch the rain hit the porch at a frantic pace, taking refuge in the storm outside so I won't have to think about how gorgeous he is and how hobo-ish I look, "it doesn't look like the storm's stopping anytime soon. There's a bunch of rooms upstairs if you want."

I turn back to see him watching the rain, nodding at my suggestion. "Alright." I say as I turn away and walk towards the hall. I stop suddenly and place my hand on the wall. I stare ahead into the empty hall as I ask, "If I told you I'm not always this much of a mess," I take a short breath, "would you believe me?"

God, I'm pathetic.

When he doesn't reply, I turn around and see him just staring at me. I mentally slap myself for asking such a stupid question. He opens his mouth partly, but I cut him off, "Never mind." I say, shaking my head as my cheeks turn hot and scratchy. I turn and begin walking away, "Don't answer that."

I open the laundry room door and toss my clothes into the dryer since I don't have anything to wash them with. After a few minutes of messing with the machine it rumbles unfamiliarly and begins to try my soaked clothing.

I turn off the laundry room light and walk on the dusty hardwood floor towards the stairs as the storm outside smashes rain against the windows and forces bursts of light inside. Once I make it up the stairs, I begin looking for my old room.

I open one door and find a room with baby pink walls, pure white carpet, a small twin bed with ballerinas on the bedding complete with a pink see through canopy overhead. I roll my eyes and turn the light back off and close the door.

I open a door down the hall and turn on the light. The walls are a warm yellow, and the room is divided into an upper and lower section. The upper section is white carpet, with a black dresser on the far wall with a matching armoire in the corner. A small black chandelier hangs above the upper half, and a few steps lead down into the lower section.

Wood flooring covers the lower half, where a very low sitting bed is set up against the wall with black sheets and bright yellow pillows. It's clean, simple, and modern, with just the right amount of light and darkness. I look up and see a large skylight overhead.

I step inside, the white fuzzy carpet warming my cold toes as I look all around the bare yellow walls. In the lower half, a door sits to the right of the bed, and I make my way across the cold wood floor and pull it open.

A walk-in shower sits in the corner and an old claw foot style bathtub sits on the other side. I smile a bit; this may not be so bad after all.

As far as guest bedrooms go, this one is probably the best one I've ever seen.

I walk to the door and close it fully before flipping off the light and letting the quick flashes of lightning that crash through the windows guide me to the bed.

I throw myself onto the low sitting bed and just lie there, watching the rain hit the skylight above as I wonder whether Derek decided to stay or not.

"Werewolf," I whisper to myself.

I shake my head and squeeze my eyes closed.

I'm not a werewolf.

Not tonight.

I'm not a reject, I'm not a cripple, I'm not a tragic 'drink and drive' story, and I'm certainly not a werewolf. Not tonight.

Tonight I'll just be a sleepy teenager.

And I'll deal with everything else tomorrow.


"Tomorrow?" Boyd asks on the other end. The reception is bad, and his voice is scratchy as the storm interrupts.

"Just make sure Erica's on her best behavior." I say as I lay back against the couch, the small lacrosse stick in my hand as I turn it between my fingers.

"If you say so," Boyd mumbles, "are you on your way back now?"

"No, I thought I'd hang around here for a while, make sure nothing happens."

"If she didn't rip her mom's throat out I'm pretty sure she can handle another night alone, Derek." I set the stick down and lean forward to brush my jacket off.

"Maybe you're right."

"Nah, I'm not trying to convince you either way, I'm just saying I don't think she's gonna change easy. At least it doesn't sound that way." I look back over at the wall of pictures, where several younger Averys stare back with wide smiles and shining eyes.

I stand and walk back to the wall of photos, "She still hasn't shifted fully. Only her eyes and claws have changed," in one of the pictures Avery stands alone in a light blue tutu, her hair up in a bun with a matching ribbon, her smile is small but seemingly genuine. But her eyes don't look as glimmering this time, they just look hollow.

"Maybe we can work on that tomorrow." Boyd says.

"Maybe." I say as I walk away from the photos and walk towards the hall. "If she wants to try." I make my way through the hall, into the foyer where the chandelier hangs from the high ceiling. To the left of the front door is another archway, leading into a wide, dark room.

"I'm not going to rush it." I say as I step into the room, my vision goes red and I see a long dining table, covered in a dusty white cloth. I walk to the back of the room and let my sight go back to normal as I look out a wall of French doors. "Remember, you three chose this, she didn't."

I turn the handle and step out into a glass enclosed room. An empty pool sits at the center, with a few reclining tanning chairs around it. The rain beats on the glass overhead, leaves stick to the sides as the wind blows, yet inside everything is calm. Light begins shining down, and I look up to see dark clouds rolling away from the moon.

"Derek, normally I'd agree," a tiny sliver of the moon is dark, "but the full moon is in three days. We need to get started."

"Even if we started now, I wouldn't be able to teach her that fast. Isaac only figured it out a little while ago and you and Erica still don't have it under control."

Boyd is quiet for a minute, "The cellar again?" he asks finally.

"The cellar." I confirm before hitting end and tucking my phone back in my jeans pocket. I take a final look at the moon before turning and walking out of the hollow glass room.


A light wakes me, burning my heavy eyes until I'm forced to admit that sleep time is over and I sit up in bed. For a short moment, I'm confused as I look at the bright yellow walls, but after a couple nightmarish realizations, I let out a sigh.

I throw back the black comforter and throw my legs over the side of the bed. I stand for a slight second before crashing to the floor, my right knee in blinding pain.

I clamp my jaw and eyes shut to keep a scream in.

Where the hell did I leave my brace?

"Shit," I hiss as I recall its resting place on the sofa downstairs. I sit up and roll my sweatpants up to see my knee. The ugly red scar is back. Again. "Why…?"I ask in a voice that sounds like a kid having a tantrum. I push myself off the ground and hop towards the stairs to the upper part of the room. From there, I walk cautiously, each light step sending a pain up my leg.

The way through the hall and down the stairs might as well be murder on my knee, but I keep any sound of pain inside, just in case Derek decided to stay. I make my way slowly through the foyer back into the living room to find my brace on the sofa along with my cracked phone and keys.

But no Derek.

I sit down on the couch and pull the brace on, strapping it tightly to my knee before taking a long breath.

The sweatpants fall around my brace and snag on it, and I remember that I threw my clothes into the dryer last night anyway. I get up and make my way into the laundry room. I close the door and open the dryer.

There's no way I'm re-wearing underwear, so I guess I'm going commando today. I think bitterly.

I slide the sweatpants off and pull up my red shorts, being careful not to tug on the brace. I toss the sweatshirt off, a chill running up my spine and making goosebumps spread across my skin. I quickly strap my bra on and slide my mascara stained tank top over my head and into place. I pull on my white mid-calf socks and let out a hiss when I put all my weight on my right leg as I pull the left sock on.

There has to be pain pills around here somewhere.

I get up and walk into the kitchen, and open mostly empty cupboards in search of pain medicine. I open one drawer and see only silverware. My eyes lock onto a knife.

"…rapid healing,"


I look down at my leg for a brief second before reaching into the drawer and grasping the knife gently. He said I'll heal, but my leg…

I hold my arm out over the sink and bring the knife to my skin.

He said I'll heal, but why does my leg keep getting better, then worse? Every damn time.

I take a deep breath, there's only one way to find out. I begin pulling the blade across my arm, but a hand rips the knife from my hand, "-very, what the hell are you doing!?"

Derek stands to my right in a fresh white shirt, his leather jacket, and dark jeans. His green eyes are wide, either in anger or panic, maybe both. He holds the knife at his side in an outstretched arm, as if I'll try to grab it from him.

He doesn't think I was… oh shit.

I cover up my embarrassment by firing back; "You lied to me!" his eyebrows draw close together in confusion, "You said that I'd heal!" His expression doesn't change, "My leg isn't healing!" I point down at the brace.

His eyes glance down at it before looking back to me with narrowed eyes, "So you decide to take a knife to yourself?" he asks in a harsh, sarcastic tone.

I open my mouth to say something, but his eyes tear down anything I think of saying. "Just, just never mind." I shake my head and brush past him out of the kitchen. I walk to the couch and pick up my phone, wondering if there are any messages on it.

Wondering if my mom might've called to apologize or something.

I swipe the cracked screen and a low battery warning pops up. Derek follows me into the room, his eyebrows still pressed together in an unhappy line. "What were you doing just now?" He asks firmly.

One missed call from my dad and a new voicemail.

I call my voicemail and lift the phone to my ear, ignoring Derek's question. "Avery." He says in a demanding voice.

"You have one missed call from phone number-"

"Avery." I give him a glare and plug my other ear as I walk out of the room towards the foyer.

"Hey, honey," my dad's voice says, "you're probably asleep by now but, well there's a safe in the closet of my room, the combination is 2441. Inside there should be a credit card, I always kept it there just in case of an emergency. Go ahead and use it for whatever you need, call me when you get a chance. Bye sweetheart," he pauses, "I'm sorry about what happened, I wish I could be there."

I draw the phone away from my face, why would you be? You never were before. I think to myself before turning around and seeing Derek leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

Something about his serious glare makes me feel like I have to explain, "I'm not suicidal, okay?" I say with spread arms. His eyes don't seem convinced, "I wanted to know if it was true; my leg isn't healing, so-"

"So you believe me saying you're a werewolf, but not about your ability to heal yourself?" I wince at the 'w' word and drop my arms.

"Can you please not say that?" I ask in after an intake of air through my mouth.

"Say what?" he asks, pushing himself off the wall and letting his hands fall to his sides, "Werewolf?" he takes a few steps towards me, an eyebrow quirking up for my answer.

I remember looking in the studio mirror, gold wild eyes looking back as I crushed the balance bar in my hands.

"Listen," I say, trying to change the subject, "I'm going to go back to my hou-" I close my eyes briefly and sigh as I trip over my words, "my mom's house to get my stuff," or to see if she's gotten over what happened last night, "so I'm not going to be here long, I just have to get some stuff upstairs."

Derek nods and slides a closed-mouth smirk across his lips as he walks towards me with his hands tucked inside his jacket pockets. Something in me wants to step back, to shrink away from him because something about his smirk fills me with dark warmth, and his eyes seem to possess me just from staring.

I refuse to step back and instead cross my arms, pop my hip slightly out, set my jaw, lift my head, and stiffen up my lips. A humored breath passes between a wide, toothy smile that spreads across his face. A shiver runs through me as I look at the elongated canines that gleam in the sunlight that comes through the window behind me.

As he comes to stand before me, only inches away, his wide smile slowly fades back into the wicked smirk, and his eyes shamelessly look me up and down. "You and I are gonna have fun." He says as he raises his head and brushes past me. As he passes I close my eyes and take a breath as a warm throb steadily grows.

"I'll be waiting outside; don't take too long." He says as he pulls the front door open and closes it behind him.

I stand there in the middle of the foyer for a minute, just biting my lip and taking deep breaths, trying to get the throbbing feeling to stop, but the look in his eyes….

That cliché 'standing in front of him naked' feeling doesn't even come close.

I shake my head and turn to walk upstairs and find my white Nike shoes right by the bed and slip them on quickly. I look on the yellow under sheets of the bed and see the white note from the hospital. I shake my head and walk back out of the room and walk to my dad's room.

His room is a cool grey, with black sheets and a cold empty chill. I open the door to his closet and push past his spare suits to find a safe sitting on the ground in the back. I squat down and punch in the code, the door unlocks and pops open.

I push it fully open and pick up the black credit card on the first shelf. A small medallion in the corner catches my eye but I hesitate when I see a pistol and a pack of bullets in the back. I reach in and pick up the medallion.

The silver medallion is in the shape of a shield divided into four quarters; the top left corner shows a wolf with bared teeth snarling at the right corner, which shows a pair of swords crossed over each other. The bottom left corner shows a flower of some sort, with petals drifting off into a breeze. The bottom right corner holds a strange pattern of three swirling circles in a triangular shape.

The cold of the metal practically stings my palm, so I carefully tuck it back into the corner of the safe and shut the door. I walk out of my dad's room and back downstairs into the foyer; I pause at the door and peek out of the small windows to the sides of the door.

The black Camaro is parked right in front of the sidewalk leading from the driveway to the porch. Derek sits on the hood, one foot crossed over the other, back towards the dashboard with arms crossed over his chest. He turns his head to look towards the road and my mind burns his image in my head.

There are moments that define people to you, mental pictures you remember when you think about a certain person. For my dad, I remember the time he handed me the lacrosse stick and spent forever trying to teach me to play. But mostly, I see the smile on his face as he pushed the stick in my hands.

For my mom, now I just see that cold, dead stare as she screamed at me to leave. For Tori, there's a huge scrapbook of memories, most of them too embarrassing to say.

But seeing Derek sitting on the hood of his Camaro, calm, cool, relaxed, but with that confidence that just hovers over him, I just know this is one of those moments.

He turns his head from looking at the road to the left, to looking straight ahead of him. He lets out a sigh and pushes his head back so he's looking up at the clear blue sky. His black hair is spiked perfectly, and the throb slowly begins again as I stare at his facial hair.

I've never really thought much of guys with beards or anything, mostly because teenage-high school boys just don't look good with it. The guys with beards at Beacon just look like they have some dirt on their faces, or just have scraggly little patches here and there.

But his is dark and thick and perfect. I bite my lips again as I wonder just how hairy a werewolf would be.

The throb turns to a hot burst when he suddenly turns his head to the side and looks in my direction. Whether he sees me through the window or not makes me pause, but I reach for the doorknob and step outside.

I lock the door and pull it closed behind me. Derek just watches as I walk towards the Camaro. I struggle to think rationally as I stare at my reflection in the glasses. "Look," I say as he pushes himself off the hood and walks calmly toward the driver side, "I really need to go get my stuff since I guess I'm staying here now so if you just want to come by later-"

Derek ignores me as he steps into the Camaro, puts the key into the ignition, and starts the engine with a roar. The engine sends a sudden breeze up my legs and shorts. The cool air brushes against my core and I reach out and grab the ledge where the window would be if it were rolled up. I mentally thank the fact that he drives a low sitting car because if he had anything taller he'd be able to see me bit my lip and crunch my eyebrows together as I hold back a small whine.

There are very, very good reasons why underwear was invented, that much is clear as I cross one leg over the other, finding my inner thighs sliding far too smoothly over each other. I compose myself and lean down to look inside. "Right," I say with a smile that masks my quivering lip as another burst of air snakes its way up my shorts, "so I'll meet you back here in a little while." I thumb my phone with my Vera Bradley wallet pouch and keys in my other hand.

Derek leans over slowly, his left hand draped over the steering wheel and lips slightly parted as if to say something. Instead, he just pops the door open and leans back behind the driving wheel. I straighten up and look to the sky.

Lord have mercy.

He revs the engine and another wave hits me. I open the door further and slowly lower myself down, trying to avoid any sudden pressure to make the throbbing worse. I buckle my seatbelt and lean back as he pulls out of the circle of my driveway. The windows allow a slow, cool breeze to cease the rising heat in my cheeks.

As we start down the long, steep driveway, Derek speeds up, sending my long hair flying between us and across my face. I hastily sit forward and lasso it all into a sidebun, "Where are we going anyway?" I ask, realizing he never said and I never asked.

I jerk back against the seat as he pulls off onto the road and speeds around the corner, I bite my lip harder as the engine sends vibrations through my seat, up my legs and right there.

Now I get why they call it a sex drive.

I grip the armrest tightly as he shifts into the next gear expertly, "Time for you to meet the pack." He says. His voice is a ghost in my mind though; I clench my inner thighs together, trying to keep it together.

He pushes a button on the steering wheel and the radio comes on, playing "Send the Pain Below" by Chevelle.

"I liked having hurt,

So send the pain below where I need it,

You used to beg me to take care of things,

And smile at the thought of me failing.

But long before, having hurt,

I'd send the pain below,

I'd send the pain below."

"Can we make a stop at my h-" I grit my teeth, "my mom's house first? I'd really like to just go get my stuff before she throws it in the trash." I say, realizing that that's actually a real possibility.

The wind whips against my face, sending the smell of summer into the car. "You sure you wanna do that?" He asks, the wind blowing his black hair back only slightly as he speeds through the back roads.

"It has to be done sometime," I call over the music, "why not just get it done?" I ask to myself as I turn to look out the open window at the passing forest.

"Much like suffocating,

Much like suffocating,

Much like suffocating,

I'd send the pain below...

Much like suffocating,

I'd send the pain below...

You used to run me away,

All while laughing.

Then cry about that fact,

'til I returned.

But long before, having hurt,

I'd send the pain below,

I'd send the pain below."


"Fuck!" Isaac says as he loses his grip on the couch, sending it flipping down the stairs of the station. Dark blue cushions go flying as the heavy couch hits each step before finally coming to a stop in the middle of the floor.

I twirl the cherry lollipop between my lips and stare down at it from the top of the train car. "Told ya," I hum, "you shoulda gotten Boyd to help." Isaac sits on the rail separating the stairs and slides down to the bottom.

"Yes, thank you, Erica." He says sarcastically, "It wasn't like you could've helped or anything." He pulls the couch upright and begins collecting the cushions from the floor.

"I thought it was a stupid idea anyway." I say, turning back to the Seventeen magazine in front of me. I swing my legs forward and back from my position lying on my stomach with my elbows propping me up. "Wait," I say, turning back to Isaac, "where are you putting that thing anyway?"

Isaac tosses the cushions back into place and dusts them off. "In that little ticket office down in the right tunnel we found. We're gonna turn it into a hangout." I roll my eyes and go back to looking at the picture of Jennifer Lawrence in a floor length white gown.

"You realize this entire place is a hangout, right?"

Isaac begins pushing the couch along the tile towards the direction of the ticket office, "Yeah, well I'm tired of these stiff benches."

"Wasn't that office locked up tight anyway?" I ask as he pushes the couch along at a quick pace.

"It was, I found a vent that led into it and opened it up. You should come see it, it's pretty cool, just needs a little dusting."

"Where's Boyd? I thought Derek told us to be here for when he brings the jock by?" Isaac stops pushing and turns back to me.

"Ya' know; I play lacrosse, too." He says, pointing to himself. He stands there looking at me for a few moments before turning around and returning to pushing the couch, "He's off getting the radio."

"You're putting a radio in there, too?" I call after him as he goes into the tunnel.

"Yup!" he calls back.

"Dumbass," I mumble under my breath.

"You're so not invited!" his voice echoes back to me.


I pull up to the side of the road in front of the house and put it in park. "Nobody's home." Avery says with the slightest bit of sadness as she stares at the house.

"You're disappointed about that?" she turns and shakes her head.

"It's best this way I guess." She gives a small polite smile before unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door. I follow her lead and we walk to the porch.

She unlocks the door and walks inside with no hesitation. I close the door behind me and slip my sunglasses off before hooking them on to the collar of my shirt. Avery walks upstairs and steps into a room at the top of them. She moves quickly, but with a weight I can't describe. I think about the cold look on her face as she held the knife to her arm, preparing to pull it across the skin.

It would have made a small cut, bled a little, then healed right up.

And yet I panicked, and grabbed it out of her hands. I'd like to brush it off as just keeping my investments together, like a business. Except that wasn't how a businessman acts. Cold, calculated, distant; that's how a businessman acts.

That was just blatant panic. I shake my head, trying to strengthen up a resistance to whatever those blue eyes are doing to me.

I follow her into a messy bedroom with purple walls and clothes strewn all over the floor and bed. Avery stands with her back to me, staring at a suitcase at the foot of the bed.

I hear her heart speed up, she looks down and then back to the suitcase before crossing the room, lifting it unto the bed and unzipping it.

She lays it open and turns to her dresser, pulling out a drawer and dumping the contents into the suitcase. She drops the drawer onto the bed, grabs another drawer from the dresser and empties it into the suitcase in a wild mess.

She drops the drawer on top of the other and begins snatching up clothes from the floor and tossing them towards the suitcase. Her lips are in a tight, thin line, as is the rest of her face.

She bundles more clothes up into her arms and walks to the suitcase and pushes them inside, pausing to smash them down into it. "Avery." I say in a sigh.

"Don't." she warns. "Please just, don't." She walks to the closet and pulls out another large travel bag. She places it on the bed and walks to the dresser and lifts another drawer and carries over to the bag. "I'm not going to have a repeat of last night. I'm not doing it."

She reaches back into the closet and pulls out a Beacon Hills lacrosse bag with a lacrosse stick tucked into the side of it. She walks to a row of shoes against the wall and grabs a pair of cleats and two pairs of running shoes. Stuffing them into the lacrosse bag, her heartbeat stays rushed and heavy.

I lean back against the desk on the wall behind me with my arms crossed over my chest, just watching her try to keep a straight face.

She snatches dresses out of the closet by their hangers and tosses them on top of the bag. "Can I have that shaft?" she asks, looking over at me.

"What?" I ask, my mind going blank and heart skipping a beat. There's no way she meant…

She nods her head in my direction, "That shaft." I don't move, and her eyebrows push together as she straightens herself and walks over to me. "The lacrosse shaft." She says as she reaches around me and picks up a lacrosse stick from the top of the desk. How many times is she going to say 'shaft'?

She holds it between us, "This part of the stick is called the shaft." She explains before turning away and tucking the shaft into her bag. "Alright, I'm almost done, I'm just gonna change real quick." She says, looking up at me.

I nod and walk out of the room, pulling the door closed behind me. I walk down the stairs and wait for Avery to get done. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out to check who texted me.


Where r u?


I toss my toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, pack of razors, and tampons into my bag and zip it shut. I make room in the suitcase for the rest of my shoes and stuff them all in. I quickly change into the fresh white bra, blue athletic shirt, black running shorts, fresh underwear, and black mid-calf socks. I slip on my black Nike shoes and pull my hair out of the bun.

After several minutes of pulling the brush bristles through my brown hair, it falls over my shoulders softly. Surprisingly, it still has a clean shine to it, even after last night's pouring rain.

I take a final look around my room and grab my phone charger, and the picture frame with several different pictures of Tori and me. I slip both into my lacrosse bag and throw it over my left shoulder. I sling the heavier bag over my right shoulder and roll the suitcase behind me.

When I reach the stairs I lift the suitcase over my head. Derek looks up at me, "Do you-" I walk down the stairs with little trouble, despite the heavy ass suitcase over my head and bags on my shoulders. "…want some help?" he finishes as I reach the last step and set the suitcase down in front of him.

I lower my bags to the floor, "Yes actually," I say with a smile at the only slightly surprised look on his face, "if you could take these out to the car, I'm just gonna grab something to eat." I say as I hand him my lacrosse bag and turn away with a wink.

As I walk back to the kitchen I hear the front door open and close, I open up the pantry and grab a couple granola bars and a water bottle to tide me over for now. Later I'll drive into town and get some-

Oh, right. I can't drive.

I sigh and walk out of the kitchen and out of the front door. I turn to lock it, but shrug and turn away. Derek tosses one of my bags into the backseat of his Camaro and shuts the door. He walks around to the driver side and opens the door as I walk up.

"Derek," I say right before he steps into the car. He stops and stares at me with his dark eyebrows raised just a bit. I give him my best wide, sweet smile and lean over the top of the car far enough that my boobs are pressed up into view, I place my water bottle on the top of the car and wrap my fingers around it, with my thumb over the cap.

I see his eyes darken again, just as they had when he looked me over back at my house, "Do you think you could teach me to drive stick sometime?" I use my imitation of Tori's hushed, sweet voice she uses when she tries to convince guys to give her their homework so she can copy it. I finish the question by lifting my eyebrows and biting my lip.

His eyes hold mine for a moment before dropping to my lips and then looking back behind me towards the house. His tongue runs over his teeth, pressing against his cheeks and he sighs. He looks back to me and I smile hopefully.

Suddenly an object flies over the top of the car and I reflexively let go of the granola bars and catch it in my palm. I open my hand to see a set of keys with the Chevrolet emblem on them. I look up in horror to see Derek walking around to me. "Oh, no, I meant in my car."

"Your car is too damn big for a beginner," he says as he stands in front of me, "and my car is faster."

I narrow my eyes nervously, "I was thinking of starting slow…" his eyes don't change. "Oh God please tell me you're not one of those 'throw 'em in, they'll learn to swim' kind of people."

"Avery get in the car or I'm leaving you here."

"Fine." I turn and pick up my granola bars from the top of the car and walk around to the driver's side.

"Well, shit." I mumble as I slide into the seat and close the door. I slip the water bottle into the cup holder and put the granola bars next to it. Next I test the floor, looking for the peddles. I look down when I don't feel them and notice they're like a foot away.

I fumble around under the seat until I find the seat controls and push myself forward. I look to the rearview mirror and adjust it down so I can see out the back window. Out of the corner of my eye I see him staring at me with high eyebrows.

"What?" I ask, wondering if I already screwed up.

"Nothing," he says turning to look forward, "I was just wondering when you were going to start the car."

"Pushy," I say as I push the key into the ignition and the engine roars to life. I turn and reach for my seatbelt and pull it across my chest and buckle it.

"Push down the clutch and shift into first," I nod and reach over for the gear column while checking the left side mirror for any cars. I grab the column and push it forward to where the first gear would be.


"What, what?" I ask, looking over to see him with his lower lip tucked under his upper lip and an irritated look on his face. I look down and realize that it was his leg I grabbed and pushed forward on, not the gear column.

I pull my hand away, "Oh crap, I'm sorry, the shaft in my car- I mean the gear shaft-" I sigh and place my hand on the gear column and shift into first gear. "The gear column is way further over in my car."

I pull out slowly, "We're going to the old train station, you know how to get there, right?"

"The one next to the abandoned grocery store on Eve street?" I ask as I get to the end of the street and check for an opening.

"That's the one." He says as I pull out onto the road. I drive slowly, just praying I won't crash in his car.

"Avery, you're going 25 in a 50."

I nod, "Yep." His eyes stare at me from the corner of my sight.

He sighs and shakes his head, "For me to teach you anything, you have to be going fast enough to get out of the first gear."

"Why did I do this?" I ask myself as a car pulls up behind us and honks. Derek sinks in his seat and cusses under his breath.

The car honks again and I reach back down to the gear column, but just end up grabbing his leg again. He snaps his head back to me, "Shit, sorry," I say as I grab the gear column, hit the clutch and shift to second gear as I push down on the gas and we jump forward.

The shift overall is smooth, but the car accelerated so fast it made us lurch forward. I smile widely, "Better?" I glance over at him.

"We're still under the limit." He says in an unimpressed tone. "Just make sure you aren't just tapping the clutch, you need to hold it down while the gears shift."

I hold down the clutch and shift into third as I steadily press the gas down more, before I realize it we're up to 60.

A smug smile crosses my face as we speed by cars left and right. I look over to Derek and giggle as I watch that dark look glaze over his eyes again. I turn back to the road and shift into fourth smoothly.


"No, dude, I'm halfway to your house right now!" I argue as I slow down for a yellow light and come to a stop.

"Stiles, Alli-" Scott starts.

"No! You're not blowing me off for Allison again! C'mon, man I am literally about to call off our friendship if you do this!" I look in my rearview mirror as a loud ass muscle-car engine draws closer. I expect to see Jackson's stupid loud and expensive ass car.

"Damn it, and now the sour wolf himself is pulling up right next to me at a red light." I say as the black Camaro leaves my rearview mirror and moves into view of my side mirror. "I blame you for this."

"What? How is that my fault?" Scott asks.

The Camaro comes to a stop next to me, and I almost drop my phone when I see Avery behind the wheel. "Scott," I say bleakly as Avery looks over at Derek in the passenger seat and smiles widely, "we have a big problem."

"What? Is the sour wolf out to get you?" The light turns green, and the Camaro pulls off just as Derek catches sight of me staring.

"Not me, no."


"What? Is something wrong?" I ask as Derek suddenly sets his jaw and sits back in his seat.

"No, we're almost there." A wave of nerves hits me; I'm about to meet a pack. A pack of werewolves.

"So, um, what are they like?" I try to sound calm, but fail.

"You'll see soon enough." He says in that same ominous voice I hate. I nod and pull on to Eve Street. A couple years ago, Eve Street used to be the main shopping center but then all the stores moved into a mall in the middle of Beacon, so Eve Street just got left behind.

I shift into lower gears as we pull up to the old train station and come to a stop. I turn the car off and place the keys in his hand. Derek takes them and steps out of the car. I take a deep breath and follow him out.

He stands at the top of the entrance to the station, his hands in his pockets, his green eyes just watching me as I draw closer to the stairs. He motions down the stairs with a nod, and I take a deep breath before starting down them.

My palms are clammy and my breathing is hard to keep steady as I make my way down each step. My mind races with horrific possibilities of what might be at the bottom of the steps.

Voices argue and echo up the stairs, but I can't quite make out what the voices are saying. As I come to the end two pairs of jeans come into view, and the lower I sink, the more I see of them.

I let out a dry huff of a laugh, whatever I expected sure wasn't what I see.

"Isaac?" I say disbelievingly as I stare at the curly haired boy standing in front of another familiar face. Isaac turns and smiles widely back at me before walking quickly over.

"Hey, Avery!" he says as he pulls me into a hug. I never knew Isaac well, but he seems genuinely happy to see me and warm welcomes is something I seem to be lacking as of late. "How are you feeling?" he asks as he pulls away, but keeps his hands on my arms.

"Pretty good." I say with a smile and a nod.

"You still tearin' up the field?" he asks happily.

I shake my head, "Not for a while now, I missed summer league so I haven't played lately."

He lets go of my arms, "You should bring your stick with you sometime, we could pass." I nod as I look past him to where Boyd stands in the center of the room.

"You still working at the ice rink, Boyd?" I ask Isaac steps aside and walks toward a stereo on a metal bench.

Boyd shakes his head and steps closer, "Nah, not for a while now." I give a small pout.

"Aw, how am I supposed to get a free hot chocolate now?" Boyd laughs.

"It sucked anyway."

"Yeah, it really did." I admit.

A yellow blur above Boyd catches my attention and I look to see that on top of a train car sits none other than "Erica."

She looks down at me with an unamused stare. "So this is what happened to you." I say simply.

Erica cocks her head to the side, sending her dirty blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, and pushes her eyebrows together. She opens her red stained mouth, "And what is that supposed to mean?" she tries to make the question simple, calm.

But it comes out as an accusation.

"I think it's safe to say that everyone noticed you came to school one day…different." She nods and lets out a dark laugh, and for a second I swear I can hear a growl behind it.

Chapter Text


Sometimes, everything seems like a huge blurry mess in my head. It all just sounds and looks hazy, which is strange since now I'm supposedly 'enhanced'.

But as Erica stands in the center of the station with her teeth bared, eyes flaming, claws ready, arms outstretched, knees bent in a half crouch, and ears pointed like horns from her head, everything is just another hazed mess.

Derek stands across from her, his face scrunched into a permanent snarl with two blood red eyes and a pair of teeth that makes me shudder. He stands with his hands hanging lazily at his sides, as if Erica is no threat at all.

He's taken off the jacket finally, leaving his white shirt clinging to his torso loosely. He stands in an almost bored stance and Erica growls as she runs forward toward him.

I squeeze my eyes shut as the growl makes a hot pain rush through my ears. The sound is so familiar….

Isaac sits next to me on one of the waiting benches, sitting comfortably and talking on about being part of the pack. "…You'll like it; it takes some gettin' used to, but after that it's usually pretty cool."

I sit with my knees pulled against my chest, just trying to focus on both Isaac and Derek. I lean over and whisper into Isaac's ear. "So what's his story?" I ask hesitantly, wondering if Derek can hear me. I take the fact that Derek doesn't look over or react to his name as a good sign.

Whether it's a good sign that he didn't hear me or doesn't mind me asking is the new question.

I lean back a little for him to respond, "Who? Derek?" he asks at an annoying volume. I move my finger over my lips and give him a wide eyed stare. "Right." He whispers. I look and see Derek's body go rigid at hearing his name.

We both watch Erica and Derek circle each other as Isaac speaks, "Well, he's the alpha." I look at Isaac with a confused stare.

"Alpha," I echo, Isaac nods, sending his curls bouncing gently on his head.

"Yeah, ya' know the alpha, like the leader-" I nod my head, wishing he'd just get back to Derek.

"Right, just like wolves?" Erica lashes out at Derek with a clawed hand, but Derek catches her wrist easily, and pushes her back to where she started.

"Yeah, like that." When Isaac makes no move to say anything else, I press him further.

"And he turned all of you into werewolves?" Isaac tears his eyes away from Derek and Erica and looks at me with a bit of hurt in his light blue eyes.

"Well, he offered, and yeah." Isaac turns back to watch Derek and Erica, "I was the first one he turned." Isaac says cheerily, "Well, officially turned anyway; Jackson doesn't count."

"Jackson? Wait like Jackson Whittemore? He's a werewolf?" Isaac pulls his lips away from his teeth and inhales through them sharply.

"No, well, it's complicated." I nod and turn just in time to see Erica being thrown back again.

Isaac doesn't make a move to say anything, he's probably hoping I'll change the subject, but the fact that all I know about Derek is his name- no, wait, I know he's a werewolf, which could possibly be his biggest secret.

I find myself wondering what his biggest secret might be.

A roar makes me jump straight back against the seat and stare at the source of the sound with wide eyes. Derek is looking at Erica, who is lying on the ground, clutching her arm in pain. The sound makes my heartbeat fill my ears, I realize I'm actually hearing two hearts and look over to see Isaac's vein in his neck bulging.

Erica looks up and growls, "Next." Derek says. Erica pushes herself up with her good arm, and Boyd steps forward from his place leaning against the train car.

The growl echoes in the tunnels, and makes its way back to my ears.

I flash back to the night at Beacon's field, and the same growl in the forest. But, no, I've heard it even before that….

At first, there's only darkness. My head is killing me, and my leg feels like there's a knife stuck in it. My head is resting against glass, glass that separates me and the darkness outside. I push against the surface to sit back straight, but the simple movement is exhausting.

Pain shoots up every single nerve, and I whimper as I sit straight. Two rays of light shine in front, and a half shattered, half cracked sheet of glass comes in and out of focus in front of me.

I see… the lights are... headlights? A steering wheel comes into focus. How did I even get in a car? Warm liquid runs down my head and I feel tired. I look down to the pain in my leg to see a deep slit, with bits of my muscle showing. The air bag keeps me from seeing it fully, so I lean my head back and try to think….

Phone. Where's my phone? Ambulance..

My vision blurs and clears and I just can't think… I'm just tired. A shuffling noise makes me open my heavy eyes. The headlights shine into the woods and onto the road in front of me, revealing nothing. I look to the side to see nothing but darkness... but wait…

What's left of the glass of the passenger window is fogged, like when someone is pressing their face against a window and their breath leaves it clouded. The fog slowly fades as I watch.

Hot blood runs down my leg as a growl sounds in front of me. I turn shakily, my vision blurring once more. I smell something thick and musky, making me practically gag. As I look, all I see is piercing, glowing red.

A clawed hand pushes down on the hood, rocking the car, the movement sends pain shooting everywhere through me. I let out a scream, but it's cut off by me coughing up blood. In a blur I see headlights shining through the forest in the distance, and I slam my hand down on the horn.

The hand rears back, and I throw myself back against the headrest and the claws slice through the air where I'd been only a second before. I hold my hand down on the horn as the headlights draw closer. The giant mass of shadow and claws turns its red eyed face towards the approaching car, gives a final growl in my direction and is gone.

I keep my hand on the horn as my blood drains down my leg into a pool at my feet. I can't keep my eyes open any longer, but I hold my bloody palm against the horn for as long as I can. When my hand slips from the wheel, I hear the sound of a slamming car door, and the hazy voice of a man, "Oh my God…"

And it's all darkness again.

"Avery?" Isaac's voice fades in; I just stare past Derek and Boyd at the darkened subway tunnel. I close my eyes, and when I open them I see Derek, Boyd, Isaac, and Erica all staring at me from their spots around the room.

My breath is shaky and I inhale sharply to try to get it back to normal. "….you okay?" Isaac asks cautiously from his seat next to me. I lean forward and grip the metal edge of the bench for stability.

I smile, and try to play it off calmly, "Yeah," I nod and look down at my black Nikes.

Red eyes… eyes and claws… but… no, no they couldn't have been Derek, he wouldn't lie to me, would he? But how did he know about the accident in the first place unless he was there?

Then again, it was all over the news….He has the same blood red eyes, though. But the scent was wrong; it couldn't have been him, it just, it wasn't him.

Oh God, please tell me it wasn't him.

"Avery," this time it's Derek's voice talking to me, and I begrudgingly lift my head. His red eyes are gone, leaving two calming green ones behind.

"Yeah," I say, finally finding my voice, "I'm okay, really." Derek looks at me as if he's unconvinced, but he nods and turns back to Boyd.

Within a couple minutes, the tunnels are filled once again with growls and roars, and Isaac is back to making small talk.

"So, you should bring your stick by tomorrow, I'll bring mine and we could pass or something." I smile at him and relax back against the bench.

"Alright," I say, lacrosse is possibly the furthest thing from my mind right now, "sounds good." I look back at Derek and Boyd, and stare at Derek's clawed hand.

There's really only one way to know for sure and that's just to ask him. Not now, though, not with all of them around, it'll just make things weird and I'll have to explain everything…

But that means I'll have to be alone again with him.

A shiver runs up my back thinking about it, and I can't tell if it's from being nervous or….. excited.

"Great! Oh and let me see your phone, I'll put all of our numbers in for you." I hand him my phone without taking my eyes off of Derek. "Umm, Avery? Your phone's dead."

"Oh, right, I never charged it last night. Here I'll just give you mine and you can text me the other numbers later." Isaac agrees and I tell him my number, still keeping my eyes on Derek as he seems to be barely trying against Boyd, and is still managing to kick his ass.

I can't stop myself from staring at his arms; they just seem so toned and muscled, but in the lean kind of way, not overbearing but still intimidating. Not to mention hot.

Boyd rushes forward, swinging his clawed hands toward Derek's abdomen, Derek jumps back, his T-shirt pulling tightly around his torso as he moves.

Yep. He has abs.

Perfectly sculpted, rock hard abs. Or at least, I imagine they're perfect. His quick movement only allowed for a moment to admire them, but I mean, everything else about him is perfect so they must be too by default.

A metallic taste fills my mouth and I realize I've been biting my lip. Hard.

As Boyd tried to recover himself from his attack, he left himself open, and Derek slams his palm against Boyd's unprotected chest and throws him to the ground in a huff of dust. Derek takes a deep breath, more from disappointment than exhaustion. "Next." He says, turning his eyes toward Isaac.

For a brief moment, his gaze flickers over towards me, and I suddenly feel very nervous about all of this.

But most of all, I feel nervous about him.

Time dragged by, Derek continually put the three of them on the dirty tiled floor, again and again. Isaac told me these lessons of his weren't always this bad, sometimes they were fun, but it looked anything but fun.

The pure bright sunlight turned orange and faded as the sun began to set outside, and finally, practice was over. Boyd was the first to jog up the stairs after Derek said something about what they'd do tomorrow, I wasn't really listening, I was thinking of how I'd ask Derek whether he was at the accident; I kept running over in my head what I'd say, how he'd respond and how he might respond and what I'd say back to him, and I was pretty much just having conversations with him in my mind. And it was weird.

After Boyd left Isaac quickly followed, but not before he gave me a short hug and reminded me to bring my lacrosse stick tomorrow. Then he said he'd text me later and after that, he left. Derek busied himself by picking up his jacket and dusting it off with his hand in the meantime.

The last of the three to leave was Erica. And that was quite a show.

I'm used to dirty looks, I've seen them countless times on the field when the other team gets frustrated. I can handle dirty looks. But the thing is, most dirty looks are quick, girls send small threats with them, then they look away before you can say anything.

Erica didn't give me a quick little dirty glance. As she walked over to pick up her own jacket, she full out glared at me the whole way. No trying to hide it, no little smile to make it at least a little less obvious, nothing. Just a cold, and honestly, really creepy ass glare.

I'd usually say something along the lines of 'what's your problem?', but it occurred to me that I wasn't in my game at home field; this place, this life even, this was her game, one that I know nothing about.

She finally turned away and walked toward the stairs in an unhurried pace, and now, as I watch her walk up into the orange tinted sunlight, I try to push away the feeling of plain distaste her stare left behind.

I watch the golden orange light on the stairs, just drifting off, wondering what I might've done to earn a look that….cold.

I squeeze my eyes shut when the picture of the two red eyes flash in my head. "Something wrong?" Derek asks in a voice that doesn't really seem all that interested.

I look over at him as he slips his jacket over his shoulders. I take a deep breath and push myself off of the bench. "Were you there?" I ask. He narrows his eyes and I realize I left out the most important part, "At the accident? Were you there?" he doesn't answer right away, and butterflies seem to multiply in my stomach, "I saw someone-I mean I think it was you, but-" his face is full of confusion, and for a second I lose track of my already scrambled thoughts because he's just so…intimidating.

I shake my head and look down at the floor, hoping it'll be easier this way. I never was really great at talking in front of people, Tori is; she can stand up in front of a hundred people and not feel nervous at all.

I take a deep breath, "I saw red eyes." I say to the floor. I try to find something to add, but there really isn't much else to say. I look up at him and find him running his tongue over his bottom lip, as if he's about to say something. "I saw your red eyes, Derek." His eyes stare unhappily at the stairs, and he closes them when he speaks.

"I wasn't at the accident." His eyes lock onto mine, "It wasn't me you saw that night."

My heart jumps with relief, but then drops again as a new fear washes over me. "But, Isaac said that only alphas have red eyes and if it wasn't you-"

"It wasn't." He looks me up and down before turning and walking toward the stairs, "Use your imagination." He says grumpily as he begins climbing the stairs.

I follow him at a comfortable distance, "My imagination's kinda been stretched to the limits today." I mumble quietly. We make it up to the street where his Camaro is parked. "But," I continue with a tired sigh, "I get it; so, there's another alpha?" the last word rolls off of my tongue awkwardly, and it sounds foreign and strange to be using it in a conversation.

Derek unlocks his car with his back to me, "He's been drifting in and out of Beacon for weeks now," I probe at my ear, it sounds like he's right beside me. I keep walking toward the passenger side and Derek slides into the driver's seat.

He closes the door behind him, "He?" I echo, "So you-" I pull open the door and lower myself in.

"No, we're still working on figuring out who it is, all I can really get from the scent is that it's an alpha-male." His eyes lock on to me once more as I pull the seatbelt across my torso, "That's where you come in."

Jake Reily

"You're not in Beacon anymore?" my dad asks through the phone I'm clutching to my ear. His voice just sounds like a droning in my head, and the cheap hotel room smells like cigarettes and cherries.

"No, I left the night after it happened." My stomach is churning and my skin is covered in sweat. I haven't been able to sleep or eat in weeks, and all I've done is sit in this dirty room and wish that I'd gone with my parents on their annual two month long vacation they take every summer.

If I had, I wouldn't be inn this mess. "I called Veronica," my dad's receptionist, "I told her to tell anyone who asked that I was with you two on vacation."

"Did you use your cell phone? They can track you with it and they can see who you've been calling, are you using it now?" his voice is deadly serious.

"No, no, I pitched it into a lake nearby; I'm calling from a crappy pay-as-you-go I got from a store across the street."

"Good, that's good. Are you using my debit card?"

"Yeah, that's all I've been using." My voice shakes; I run my sweaty palm through my hair. "Dad, I'm so scared right now- what's gonna happen to me?"

"It's alright Jake; I just wish you'd told me sooner-"

"I couldn't reach you!" A cry breaks from my throat and tears trail down my face and onto the stained carpet I'm leaning over from my spot hunched on the side of the bed.

"Calm down, son, nothing's going to happen. Who else knows?"

I suck in shaky breaths of air, "O-only J-Jackson, he helped me."

"Listen, Jackson's father is one of the best defense lawyers in California, and if Jackson is part of this then he'll represent you both. When we get back in a couple more weeks-"

"No, dad I need you now!"

"Jake, listen to me, if we come back ahead of time it'll look suspicious. You've done fine so far and when we get back we'll come and get you and make it look like you were with us the whole time. Listen closely: We left the day before the accident, but we let you stay behind a while longer to say goodbye to your friends. You went to the party, but you left early to pack for the late flight to the Caribbean to join us. You knew nothing about the accident. That is what we will tell police and Jackson's father will make it look like the word of God himself."

My hands shake and my chest stings with pain, I look down to see blood spreading across my shirt again. "Jake, everything's going to be okay." I stand up and walk to the bathroom before tugging my shirt over my chest to see the cut.

The three deep cuts on my chest haven't healed at all and they just keep dripping puss and blood. The accident left me with only a few cuts elsewhere, but this one was the worst by far. "Does mom know?"

My dad hesitates, "She will in a day or so, I'm going to try to find the best way to tell her." I practically drop the phone in the yellow stained sink when I hear a shuffling outside my hotel room door.

"Just hang in there a little longer, stay out of sight and we'll get this all taken care of when we get back. I won't let anything happen to you Jake, I love you."

"I love you too dad." I step out of the bathroom towards the large window by the door.

"I'll call when I can." My dad says before hanging up. I drop the phone from my ear and thumb it nervously in my palm as I draw near the window.

Pulling the cheap curtains aside, I see nothing outside my room.

Everything about this place is cheap and sketchy. There aren't even any hallways connecting the rooms together, just concrete sidewalks lined with rusty railings.

The sun is setting, and it'll be night soon. The humid summer air isn't helping my nerves, it just makes me think back to Beacon, to my friends, to Avery.

God, what did I do? If they found out, they'd all hate me.

Hell, I hate me.

I turn to walk back into my room. Off in the distance, the sounds of a wolf's howl echoes.


We pull up to my dad's house and Derek puts the car in park. "So, just as a summary," I say, "there's another alpha, you don't know who he is, and somehow you think I might be able to find him?" I ask, doubt clear in my voice.

"I'm saying I don't think it's a coincidence that he was at your crash," he says, keeping his eyes staring intently back at me. "But I could be wrong." I nod my head and we just sit in silence for a few moments.

My mind practically goes blank just looking at him, and I hate to admit the cliché, but he just…makes me nervous. "Okay," I say, really wishing I could take step back from him. I look at the big empty house waiting for me. "Well, thanks…for the ride and everything." I say back to him with a nervous smile.

Before he can answer I open the car door and step out, shutting it behind me. I don't want him to leave, actually I want just the opposite, but I know I'll just end up with another slip up and I really don't need another 'shaft' mess up.

I make it to my door and scramble to unlock it with my key. Behind me, I can hear Derek open his door, "Avery," I turn and watch as he walks around his car to the backseat of the passenger's side and opens the door. He pulls the passenger seat up, allowing me to see into the back of his car, where all my luggage sits.

I pretty much facepalm myself, and Derek just lets out an amused huff. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry," I say as I jog back to him. He turns his back to me slowly, giving me a glimpse of the smirk on his lips. He reaches in and pulls out my lacrosse bag first; I sling it over my shoulder as he reaches back in and pulls out my suitcase. He sets it on the ground and I wheel it over to my side.

He pulls out my duffel bag last and hands it to me. My hand brushes over his and when I look up at him I notice he's staring down at a piece of black lace sticking up from part of the bag that came unzipped. I recognize it as one of the pairs of underwear I never wear, but you can't really tell it's a pair of underwear, I hope.

I tuck the duffel bag under my arm to hide the lace and Derek looks from the bag to his side with another smirk on his face. I know there's really no other excuse for him to stay, and he really shouldn't because he makes me feel weird and I don't like the way he looks at me, but I do at the same time, and…

"Do you wanna stay for a while?" I ask, even though I'm internally still arguing with myself. "I could really use the company." He turns his head back to me and takes a slightly deeper breath than usual.

"Can't. It'll be night soon," he motions his head towards the setting sun, "I have to make sure everything's quiet."

I nod, "Right, I guess the whole alpha thing would be keeping you pretty busy." I bite my lip nervously, and a sharp pain reminds me that I bit it too hard earlier. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth and my saliva makes the cut sting.

I pull the duffel bag strap tighter against my shoulder, "Alright, well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then," I give him a small smile before turning around, grabbing he handle of the suitcase and wheeling it towards the porch steps.

"I'll stop by later to make sure everything's alright," I hear him say, "It is a full moon tomorrow, anyway." When I turn back to him I only catch a glimpse of his spiky black hair dropping down into his car. In a matter of seconds, the Camaro roars to life and disappears down my driveway.

I shake my head, bringing myself out of an almost hypnotic state. "Wait," I say to myself, "what's 'later'?"

I managed to find my phone charger from my suitcase and had my phone plugged in and charging on my nightstand. I haven't bothered to turn it on yet, mostly because I really just don't feel like dealing with anyone just yet.

Or, for a better answer, I don't want to turn it on and see that my mom hasn't called, because I know she wouldn't, to apologize for kicking me out of the house, which she probably never will, and invite me back.

Which will never happen.

If there's one thing my mom does well, its hold grudges. No matter who they're against. Case and point: my dad.

Okay, no I really need to get over that now. She kicked me out and I just need to stop thinking about it.

I stare blankly at the tv screen in the living room, not really watching the freaky reality show that's on. I yank my comb through my wet hair, trying to work out all the knots and kinks. I'd taken a shower right after I'd gotten home, and decided that unpacking could wait until tomorrow.

The house is quiet. Even with the tv on, it all just feels so empty and wrong. I wonder if it'll ever feel normal here. The doorbell rings and I drop my comb, grab what's left of the cash from my wallet and practically jog to the door.

After my shower I just decided to throw on a bright blue spandex sports bra, a Beacon Hills lacrosse pinnie that's about two sizes too big, a pair of shorter than usual black shorts, and, of course, the crucial red midcalf socks.

I open the door and smile, "Hi there," I say to the pizza deliverer, who smiles back and holds out my medium pizza with pepperoni to me.

I take it in my right hand, "Thanks," he hands me a large orange soda and I take it with my left hand and hold out his tip with two fingers.

His eyes light up when he sees the tip and looks me in the eyes, "Thank you," he says happily, "have a good night." He backs away off the porch with a small wave.

"You too." I say before turning back inside and closing the door with my foot behind me.

It's kind of sad how happy pizza guys get when they see a tip, I had a friend who worked delivering pizzas once, he said no one ever tipped him, which sucked because he had to pay for his own gas and minimum wage sure as hell didn't make up for that.

Since then, I've made it a point to tip them well, even if it is with the only cash I have left. I move back into the kitchen and set the pizza down. Lucky for me the orange soda is already cold, which is good because frankly the stainless steel refrigerator looks like a spaceship and I have no idea how to get any ice from it.

After a few minutes of opening cabinets, I find the glasses and plates. With the sound of reality stars screaming at each other coming from the living room, I eat until my stomach sticks out like I'm three months pregnant.

I don't like eating in front of people, so I guess there's a Brightside to being alone.

I tuck the couple of slices that are left into the empty fridge along with the remnants of the orange soda. If my coach were here, she'd scold me about how soda is terrible for you, and that 'it's just bubbles, it's just filling you up with bubbles and not even hydrating you'. But sometimes, people just want some soda.

Hydration be damned.

I shuffle back to the living room and flop down on the couch with my head propped up on a pillow. I try to focus on the annoying dramatic people on the screen, but it all just sounds like fuzzy noise. I flip through the channels, and stop on a college men's lacrosse game.

Albany vs. Syracuse, this should be a really good game.

I watch for a few minutes, but my muscles tense, and I can't seem to relax. The brace on my leg feels tight, and all I want to do is go get my stick and shoot on a goal. I check the time on the clock by the screen; 11:32. Derek's probably not coming after all.

I try a little longer to just enjoy watching the game, but I can't. I need to get up, I need to do something.

I turn the tv off and climb the stairs to my room. I slip on my black Nike's and grab my stick. After rummaging through my lacrosse bag, which smells like dirt and sweat, I find a couple spare balls and put them in my stick's pocket.

I pause for a second, set my stick back down on the bed and walk to the window. I bite my lip and open the window wide open, letting the sticky night air in. Walking over to my dad's room, I take his iHome, unplug it, take the remote, and take it back to my room where I grab my phone and lacrosse stick and head downstairs.

I step out onto the porch and set my stick up against the front door. After searching for a few minutes, I find a covered outlet on the far side of the porch sticking out from the house. I lift up the metal cover and plug in my dad's iHome. I pull my phone out of my bra and slip it into the slot.

I turn on my pre-game mix and ramp up the volume. Another perk to being alone surrounded by no neighbors: no one to complain.

I smile and laugh to myself at the volume before standing up and yanking my hairband off of my wrist. I do a quick braid off to the right side of my head and slip the hairband over the end. I grab my stick and step off the porch, turning around only to scope out the perfect spot.

I actually don't like the way brick houses look for some reason, I never have. But they're useful for wall-ball and that's good enough for me. The porch lights illuminate the whole front yard, and I find a nice wide space of brick beside the garage door.

"Mr. Brightside" by The Killers comes on and I let one of the lacrosse balls roll out of my stick's pocket. The ball hits the pavement and I bring my stick up into my right hand.

And from there, everything just fades away.

There's no pain in my leg, no sinking feeling in my gut when I think about my mom, there's no 'mom', even. There's no werewolves or sexy mysterious…..okay so he's still there but other than that, it's just me, my stick, my ball, and my wall.

And everything's so simple.

I throw the ball at the bricks, and it bounces back to me. I catch it easily, switch to my left hand, and repeat. The ball beats against the wall and makes a steady rhythm, I can feel my muscles relaxing and tensing at the right moments, making the motions clean and precise.

I tuck my stick into my shoulder, as if a defender is on me, trying to check my stick's head and pop the ball free. I take a step forward, as if challenging the defender, but step back, switch hands and pass right around her.

The wall passes back, and this time the girl is pressuring me, I keep my stick in my right hand and keep my left shoulder between her and my stick. She pressures more, pressing the shaft of her stick against my arm.

I take a few slow steps back, and she follows me as I draw her out. As soon as she raises her stick to try for the check, I pull a spin move and roll off to her right. I can almost see the game in front of me; the goalie calling for the defense to crash in on me, and the defense turning and reaching their sticks out, trying to block my shot.

It's all so easy.

I put more force on my pass to the wall, because, after all, this is just wall-ball. There's no defender on me, no goalie in front of me, and no one keeping score.

The ball rebounds back to me, and I catch it easily.

Lacrosse is second nature to me; I don't even have to think about what fake to put on a defender or what type of shot to take, I know exactly how my stick throws and what I can make the ball do with a simple flick of my wrist.

It all just feels like part of me.

I guess that's what happens when you've been doing something so long.

At first, you suck, badly. You know you suck, too. But your parents smile and tell you you're the best at everything and you like the sound of that, so you keep playing. Eventually, you make a nice shot or a cool pass and you're stupidly proud of it, and you start thinking you really are the best at everything you do. And then you get thrown into a whole 'nother league and you realize you're nowhere close to the best.

So, you work, and work, and work some more.

And after a few years, you finally see the results. No, more like you feel the results.

I pop the ball up in the air and cradle it back into my pocket with one hand on my stick. The humid summer night air feels strangely refreshing, even as my skin turns sticky with sweat.

I guess I shouldn't have taken a shower earlier, but it doesn't really matter. "Never Gonna Leave This Bed" by Maroon 5 starts playing and I hum along as I hold my stick out about hip-high and practice some sidearm passes.

I start singing along with the song, but as it ends the ground below me feels as if it's vibrating. I turn around as a rumble catches my attention. Derek's Camaro comes pulling up and parks a few feet behind me off to my right.

I nervously bite my lip and turn back to the wall, trying to act nonchalant about his appearance. The engine cuts off as I throw another sidearm pass to the wall. I catch the rebound and switch to my left hand, repeating the pass.

His car door opens and shuts and I resist the urge to turn around. I keep my stick in my left hand and do another sidearm. From my peripheral, I watch as he steps around to the front of his car, drops something on the ground, and sits on the hood. I almost giggle when I notice he's not wearing his leather jacket, but just a dark grey t-shirt that clings to his muscles.

"Drops of Jupiter" by Train comes on as I keep passing and he just keeps watching. Feeling awkward and nervous, I turn to look at him after I catch another rebound.

"I thought you weren't gonna show," I take notice of a six pack of beer bottles in a cardboard case, with one missing. He raises a bottle to his lips and leans his head back. "And you brought beer." I add.

He pulls the bottle away from his mouth and motions it toward me. I can't help but laugh a little, "No thanks," I say, turning back to the wall, "I don't drink."

"Suit yourself." he says, raising the bottle to his mouth again.

I smile to myself, "I don't remember saying this was BYOB." I switch hands and keep throwing sidearm passes, but this time I add a bit of a rise to them so they float higher.

"Calling All Angels" by Train comes on, and I can't help but mouth the words as the song plays. I hear a huff from his direction and I look over to see him staring intently at my stick.

"What?" I ask, wondering if I broke a string or something.

"Why is your stick so much smaller?" he asks.

"What do you mean?" I look at it, trying to figure out what he could be talking about.

"The thread part, it's really small."

"Oh, the pocket?" I point towards the interlaced strings, and Derek nods. "It's not small," I say, lifting the stick up so that the head is up at eye level. I roll the ball up and down the pocket like a ref would when checking sticks, "Girls play with smaller pockets." Derek stares at my stick, thinking.

"Why?" I think about it for a minute.

"I actually have no idea, that's just how we play."

"And do you play with helmets and pads, too?" I shake my head, causing my braid to smack my shoulder blade.

"I mean, some girls play with gloves but they're not like boys' gloves, they're really thin. They mostly just help with the grip. We don't have helmets, but we have visors, they're kind of like the metal cages of a helmet, but it only covers our eyes really."

"Then what's the point of wearing them?" I shrug and turn back to the wall.

"Better than nothin', I guess." I hold my stick in my right hand and pull it across to my left side. I throw a couple crossovers before I add, "I mean we aren't allowed to hit like the guys. We're barely allowed to check." I pause, "Which is really stupid because hitting would be so fun."

"What the hell is a 'check'?" I smile and hold in a laugh.

I catch the ball and turn towards him, holding my stick in front of me in one hand. "A check is when you take the head of your stick," I point toward the red hard plastic frame, "and hit the ball carrier's head to try to get the ball loose," I use my hand in a tomahawk motion and hit it against the frame. He looks at me with a confused expression.

"Wait, what is the top part called?" I feel a blush coming on.

"The head." I answer. A smirk forms on his face.

"And the bottom part?" I hold the bottom half of the stick up.

I point to the rubber cap at the end, he shakes his head and almost says something but I beat him to it, "The butt….?" He lets out a disbelieving huff of a laugh.

"Wait, but the metal part is called-"

"The shaft." We both finish.

He rubs his palm across his forehead. "What the- that's the head," he points to the red frame, "that's the ball," he points toward the ball in the pocket, "that's the shaft, and that's the butt?" I can feel a blush full on my cheeks.

He starts laughing, and I walk over to him, "Changed my mind." I say as I slip the bottle out of his hand and take a sip. He stops laughing and instead watches me as I tilt the bottle back. I crinkle my nose at the taste and hand him the bottle back.

The taste is gross….but familiar….

His green eyes do that thing again…where it feels like he's looking at me completely naked in front of him. I keep a smile on my face as I step back across the driveway to my spot in front of the garage. My smile fades as I step further away from him, but that dark gleam in his eyes remain.

I take a shallow breath in through my lips, and my chest feels as if it's shaking from my heart's rapid beating. I finally turn to the brick and break the eye contact.

It doesn't help, though. I can still feel his eyes on me, looking me up and down. I try to ignore it and throw the ball back at the brick. From the corner of my eye, I can see him tilt the bottle all the way back and finish the beer.

He lowers the empty bottle back into its spot in the case, but doesn't pull another out. I turn back to the wall and try to relax with his gaze once again on me. "Don't miss," I hear him mumble.

When the ball lands back in my pocket, I look over to him with one eyebrow arched, "Excuse me?" I ask with a questioning smile on my face.

Now he's looking down at another one of the bottles in his hands, and I notice the claws on his fingers as he uses them to rip the metal top off of it. He looks up at me and motions with his beer behind me towards my car.

"It'd be a shame to dent it." I narrow my eyes at him, keeping the small smile on my face.

"I don't miss." A curve pulls at his lips and his eyebrow arches.

I get that warm throbbing feeling again, and I look back to the wall to avoid looking at him. "Ever?" he asks with a coy tone.

"Ever." I say, wishing he'd just be quiet and let me calm down. I focus on my sidearm again and attempt to ignore the fact that he's pushed himself off the hood of the car and I walking over to me.

He comes to stand beside me, a little too close for comfort. His eyes narrow when I catch and throw without missing a beat. He takes a step back and walks behind me.

I can feel the solid muscles of his chest against my back, and heat rolls off of him, making the throb in my core speed up like crazy. I subconsciously straighten myself up from my sidearm position, and lean more against his chest.

I switch from sidearm to normal passing, and get two passes in before his head leans against my head and he purposefully lets his breath spread across my neck. I pull a sharp breath in my nose, and nearly drop the ball.

I somehow manage to catch it, and in a determined daze I continue tossing the ball against the wall. His hands slowly run up the sides of my legs and grip my hips, pulling my ass tight against his pelvis.

And I lost it.

The rough and firm pull of his hands killed whatever hope I had. The ball hits against the brick and races back towards my face. And I'm frozen.

One of his hands reaches out in front of my face at the last second and catches the ball before it smashes into my face. My eyes stare widely at the ball clutched tightly in his fist, and his lips play at my ear as he whispers, "You," his hips push lightly against my ass, "missed."

My cheeks go red with a mixture of embarrassment and anger; he did that just to prove a point!?

I push away from him, turn to face him and drop my stick on the pavement. "Did not." I say in a childlike denial.

His eyes slowly lose that gleam and his eyebrows arch, "Oh, really? What was that move called? The headshot?" he holds the ball up in front of my face.

I push his hand away, "Keep it up and I'll show you a ball shot."

There's an underlying irritation in his eyes, like he's just putting on a front of amusement, but actually is annoyed. "I'm counting on it." He says, keeping his green eyes locked on mine.

You know those times where you just do things? And you have no idea why or what came over you to make you do them?

I reach out with both hands and push him back against the Hummer, his back hits the door loudly and his face looks pissed for a second. He pushes himself off from the side of the door and makes a move towards me.

I jump up on his hips, and wrap my legs around him. The force sends him back against the Hummer once again. I lean down and press my lips roughly against his, and for a second he hesitates, as if wondering what the hell is happening.

I'm not sure I know, either.

He lets the lacrosse ball drop from his hand and before I know it, his tongue is in my mouth and his hands are gripping my ass almost too tightly. My hips rock against him, desperately trying to satisfy that annoying fucking throb he's responsible for.

My fingers lace themselves through his black hair and one of his hands slips up under my pinnie and the fabric of my sports bra, his hands grip the bare skin of my back beneath it. The kiss is rough and intense, and leaves us both panting when we finally pull away.

I'm practically gasping for air, but my hips just keep moving against him. He looks up at me with a dark lusty stare; he pushes himself off of the car and turns us around so I'm against it. From there, he slips the pinnie up and I finish pulling it over my head. My vision ebbs in and out of red, my mind is all but lost.

All I can think about is his thrusting against me, which rocks me up against the car door. He leans into my neck, sucking and nipping at my throat. I keep my hands wrapped around his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin. "Derek," I gasp as his thrust hits right in rhythm with that maddening throb.

One of his hands slide up and down my thigh wrapped around his hip, the other slowly reaches up under my bra. I push myself off of the car, causing him to stumble back. He ends up once again against the side, and I'm free to move.

I arch my back, grinding my hips deeper into him, and lean back in for another heated kiss. This time I push my tongue into his mouth, and he lets me take control, although he helps himself to gripping my ass with both hands, even throwing in a slap.

A light shines straight into my eye and I break the kiss to look up. Over the side of the Hummer, I can see two round headlights coming up the driveway. Two very distinct headlights.

"What? What is it?" He asks grumpily under me.

"It's….Stiles." I say to myself, watching as the Jeep grows closer.

"Stiles?" He asks sounding infinitely pissed off; I push against his chest, feeling kind of awkward now that the heat of the moment is over, and he lowers me to the ground. As I scramble to throw my pinnie back over my head, Derek practically growls, "Stiles…."

Chapter Text

Hey guys, sorry it's been a while, I haven't had much time to write so this chapter isn't very long at all. I just needed to get something up. I'll have more time in the next couple weeks to get something up for y'all. In the meantime, this is what I got!



I glance over at Derek, who hasn't moved from his spot up against my car. His eyes look at me hungrily, "Just," I say with my hand towards him, "just stay here, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, I step out from behind my car and walk towards the Jeep.

The headlights shut off, and the passenger door opens. Scott steps out and slams the door angrily. Stiles steps out of the driver's seat and just stares at me with a sad look. Meanwhile, Scott comes stomping towards me, "Hey, Scott," I say nervously, wondering if he's just going to run right into me.

He marches up to me, his breath heavy and his usually sweet brown eyes dark and angry. He grabs my arm roughly and pulls me near. I feel him pull a deep breath in from my neck, I yank my arm away and push him back harshly. "What the hell is your problem!?" I yell at him, rubbing the hand mark on my upper arm.

He isn't fazed at all from my anger, instead he gets right in my face. "Just, why!? Why the hell would you of all people want to be a werewolf!? You already had everything!" His eyes flash gold, and I take a deep breath.

"You too? You're a-" I close my eyes for a second, letting the realization set in. "I never wanted to be anything, Scott." I say, trying to calm him down. But I only make things worse. His eyes go from mad, to ruthless in the blink of an eye.

"I told you, YOU CAN'T KEEP TURNING PEOPLE INTO MONSTERS!" Scott screams past me, I turn to see Derek has stepped out from behind my car and is staring Scott down.

"You don't get to decide that, Scott." Derek has a dark smirk on his face, and his red eyes are blazing. Scott makes a move to step around me but I put my hand against his chest and push him back.

"Scott what the hell are you doing?" I ask in a harsh whisper. He rips my hand off with clawed fingers. I look over toward the jeep, "Stiles?" I ask, as if he'll do something to help me.

He just keeps his eyes looking off somewhere distant. "Just stay out of it, Avery." His voice is flat and disconnected. Nothing like the Stiles I know.

Scott paces towards Derek menacingly, and Derek gazes at him with a deep coldness.

Scott's part of Derek's pack? Why didn't anyone mention this?

I march towards Scott when I notice Derek rolling his head as his ears grow long and pointed and his face turns into a snarl, I freeze when I realize they're about to have a brawl right on my driveway.

Derek rolls his shoulders and drops into a low stance with his arms spread wide, a low hissing growl seeping from his bared teeth.

His growl makes something in me churn and I clench my fists, trying to gain some feeling of stability. Everything seems hazy, and before I know it the entire scene is enveloped in red.

I'm paralyzed as I stare at Scott as he picks up speed running towards Derek. He pushes off the pavement, pulling a clawed hand back in anticipation of digging into Derek.

And I lose it.

A roar breaks from my own chest, and I'm consumed with spontaneous rage. Before I know it, I've already crossed the driveway. I grab Scott by his t-shirt and toss him towards the hood of my Hummer.

He hits the grill and the momentum carries him onto the hood. In an instant, I'm there. He tries to get up, but my hand shoots out and wraps clawed fingers around his neck and slams his head back against the smooth black surface.

Something in the air changes, and a calmness overtakes me. I ease up my hold on Scott's neck and he takes advantage by launching both of his feet into my stomach, sending me flying back into the grass.

I land in a harsh slam on my right side. I just lay there for a few seconds, desperately trying to catch the breath Scott knocked out of me. The sudden violence I felt is gone, replaced with pain and confusion.

"SEE!?" Scott screams, presumably at Derek, "You can't control them!"

"If I couldn't control her, you'd be dead by now!" I push myself up to a sitting position and notice Scott staring at me with mixed emotions.

"You never even gave her a choice?!" Scott looks back to Derek, who offers no answer. Instead, he tilts his head in my direction.

I force myself from the semi-dried mud patch I landed in, and stand up straight with a sigh, "I wasn't really awake to answer anyway, even if he did ask, I wouldn't have answered." Scott looks me up and down and nods once.

"So that's how you recovered." Stiles says, I look over to see him in front of the jeep, with a bat in his hands. The sight of his cold stare and the bat clutched in his palms cuts deep. I just nod with a sad stare at him, and he softens his eyes, lowering the bat to his side.

"It's still not right." Scott interjects. Derek's face snaps to him with furrowing brows and a set jaw. Scott stands his ground, turning to me for support, "You might've recovered on your own; you had a chance, the doctors said you had a chance-" Scott turns to Stiles for confirmation, "right? Isn't that what the doctors said?" Stiles scratches his head and looks down, not wanting to answer truthfully and nullify Scott's argument.

Scott drops his shoulders and turns again to me, now opting to come stand right in front of me to whisper, "Avery, listen to me, this is a curse. Derek, he only cares about power, and with every pack member he recruits, he just gets stronger. He's just using you, he's using all of you. You shouldn't trust him." Derek rolls his eyes and huffs out a breath. "You can't trust him."

Scott's brown eyes are sincere and intense, I look between him and Derek for a few moments, "Scott," I whisper back, "thank you, for trying to protect me, but I- he saved me, he's the only reason I'm still breathing and I- I just owe him a chance, at least, right?"

Scott lets out a defeated breath, but keeps eye contact, "If you ever need anything, we'll be here for you, I can help you with this." I nod and he begins walking to the jeep. I follow loosely behind him, and head to Stiles, who looks at me with a mix of pity and sadness.

Judging by the need for a bat, I assume Stiles isn't a werewolf, "Still friends, right?" I ask him, a little unsure from the disconnected stare.

He takes a deep breath, "Just, don't try to kill my best friend again, okay?" I purse my lips, nod, and look down, feeling a little guilty. Stiles turns away, "I really need to find some new friends." He mumbles to himself as he opens the door and jumps inside.

"Just, be careful tomorrow night, okay?" Scott calls as he sets himself back inside the jeep. I just nod.

I take a deep breath and watch as Stiles' jeep backs out of my driveway and continues down the hill and back towards town, leaving Derek and me alone again.

I can feel his eyes on my back and I fight with myself on whether or not to turn around and face him. "Well, that was….entertaining." He says, his footsteps getting closer and closer.

"Why does he hate you so much?" I ask in an attempt to delay turning around and facing him; I'll just end up doing something stupid. My stomach suddenly drops when it hits me that prior to being interrupted we just had a heated make out session in which he was able to remove my shirt within two minutes. Panic and embarrassment wash over me as he grows closer.

"Something wrong?" he asks. I'm not surprised he knows I'm freaking out, probably some weird werewolf trick; come to think of it he probably knows everything about me and I know absolutely nothing about him. Scott's voice echoes through my mind, "You can't trust him." My heart feels like it's going to burst from beating too fast. "Avery," his hand grasps my arm just tight enough to turn me around. Both of his hands encircle my upper arms and I suddenly feel…relieved.

His hands keep me in place, not that I really considered moving anyway. I keep my eyes from going to his face and instead focus on his collarbone, which is distinct with muscle. I trace the muscles to his shoulders, then up to his neck, but stop when I see the beginnings of his stubble at the top of his throat. "Scott said I shouldn't trust you," His grip loosens and I watch his adams apple bob from a swallow.

"And you want to know why you shouldn't." he says in a tired huff. His arms fall away from mine and I can feel him stiffen up. I finally look up at him.

"No," his green eyes look down at me in confusion, "I want to know why I should." His face relaxes in a way, but I can feel his body tense up even more. I can feel myself tensing up too, but I can't seem to relax in the least.

"I'll come by tomorrow; be ready to go when I get here." His eyes give me once last glance before he turns his back and walks away.

He grabs his case of beer and loads it into his Camaro. Even after he disappears down the road and the rumble of the engine is long gone, I just stand there, frozen on the edge of the driveway, still trying to catch my breath, and still trying to understand Derek Hale.

Chapter Text

Author's Note: Sorry, this chapter is coming in two parts because it's easiest to write it this way! The rest of this chapter should be up relatively soon after this one!

Avery's view is the day after the full moon, Derek's is the day of the full moon, kinda like a flashback!



A harsh light wakes me up, and I wince at it. I try to block it with my hand as I push myself up. I realize then that I'm not laying in my warm, cushy bed, but on a cold, hard, damp floor.

My hands feel heavy, and I notice that's because there are thick chains around them connecting them to a brick wall behind me. I also realize that instead of my usual t-shirt, running shorts and mid calves, I'm wearing a red tank top, skinny jeans, and my black Doc Martin boots.

I manage to sit up and my eyes adjust to the light pouring in from a doorway across from me in the otherwise dark room. I see the shadow of a man walking towards me and immediately I can tell it's Derek; I can just feel it. "Morning," he says in a plain tone.

My entire body aches, but mostly my back and legs. I slowly pick myself up from the ground and stand as he comes to a stop in front of me, "Umm, Derek," his eyes close quickly and when he opens them again they're the alpha red, "what is this?" I ask, holding up the chains on my wrist, "What happened?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asks.

I think back, and answer "Scott, Stiles, and you leaving my house," his hand comes to rest on my cheek, "why? What's happening?"

"Congrats," he says with a bit of humor in his voice as he slides his hand to the back of my neck, "you made it through your first full moon." Without any warning his claws dig into my spine and yesterday's events flood my mind, they're Derek's memories, but they tell the story of the night of the full moon.


The Day Before


"Derek, I really don't think this is a good idea," Isaac says unsurely behind me. I ignore him and punch in the security code to Avery's garage. The tie I saw her punch it in she didn't even bother to hide the code, didn't care that much about it, I guess.

The garage door begins lifting up and I slip under it and head towards the door leading into the laundry room. "I can hear her heartbeat inside, and we've been at the door for ten minutes." I open the door and step inside.

"You're so impatient." Isaac mumbles behind me.

As I push the laundry room door open and step out into the hallway, the first thing I notice is how clean everything is. "What?" Isaac asks as he comes to stand at my side, "What's up?"

"This floor was covered in dust," my nose twitches at the overwhelming scent of cleaning supplies and lemon. Isaac sneezes.

"So, maybe she cleaned up."

"In the middle of the night?" I ask, raising my eyebrows at him.

He shrugs, "You're overreacting, and even if it is werewolf related stuff, at least she's not making a mess." Isaac chuckles, "Get it? 'Cuz she's cleanin- yeah never mind."

I shake my head and walk out to the foyer. The sound of running water comes from the pool house and I follow the sound. I already know what I'll find. As I step inside, a hose is pouring water into the pool, which is only about a quarter of the way full.

"Wait, she has a pool in her house? Oh it is so on-"

"Isaac, that's not why we're here." We walk back to the foyer and I start up the stairs. I can hear Avery's heartbeat, which is calm and steady. That only makes me more on edge.

I walk up the stairs and follow her heartbeat.

As I draw closer, that one heartbeat becomes two.

"Isaac," I say, calling his attention.

"I hear it." He says in response, coming to stand behind me. I bring my claws into my right hand, and Isaac does the same. We approach the door to the room, which is propped slightly open. "Avery?" he calls out.

No response.

I push the door open slowly, keeping my right hand at my side. As I step inside, I look towards the bed.

Avery is sitting up, resting her head back against the wall. Strewn in the black sheets, with her head in Avery's lap, is the blonde from the hospital. "Tori?" Isaac whispers.

Avery doesn't even look up at us as we walk further into the room. She stares down at the sleeping Tori, gently stroking her hair with a clawed hand. "Avery," I say quietly, trying to get her attention. She slowly looks up, her eyes are pure gold.

She glances back down at Tori, her claws coming uncomfortably close to Tori's neck.

I focus all my energy on Avery, and try to force her out of the shift. New werewolves are notoriously difficult to control.

Her head twitches a bit, and I get a sudden menacing vibe from her. She looks up at me with a wicked smile with her canines fully exposed.

In her lap, Tori slowly wakes.

In an instant, Avery shifts to normal. Tori looks up at her and asks, "What time is it?" as she pushes herself up. As soon as she catches sight of Isaac and I, she jumps into a sitting position. I withdraw my claws and smile. "Avery, who are…?"

"Tori, these are my friends," Avery says, abnormally sweetly, "Derek and Isaac."

Tori is calmed by Avery's nonchalant attitude, but is still clearly confused. "We were just coming to pick her up, actually." I relax and focus on Tori instead; I give a warm smile that mellows her quickly. "We had plans for the day, but it appears she's forgotten." Tori smiles widely, completely captivated.

"So, Tori, if it's alright with you," I say as she crawls off the bed, leaving Avery to pout alone at me, "Isaac would be more than happy to walk you home." Tori nods dumbly, and Isaac steps forward, taking her by the arm.

"Meet you at the station?" he asks as they walk past.

"Of course." I say, watching the two leave the room.

I feel the air shift around me and catch Avery's wrist before she can land a strike on me. I turn my head to look as she tries to claw me with her other hand, again I catch it, and hold her in place by her wrists.

She once again gives me that wicked smile, "Nice trick," she says, leaning close to my ear, "too bad it's not going to work on me." I hear the front door swing open and then shut.

Avery leans further forward and takes my ear between her teeth, threatening a bite. "Wanna bet?" I whisper back to her.

I pull in a deep breath and let a roar ring out directly into her ear. The suddenness of it makes her jump back, but the pain makes her drop to her knees. As she falls, I release her hands, which she promptly uses to cover her ears.

My own ears are ringing, but it was worth it. She looks up at me after a couple seconds and pulls a bloody hand away from her head. Her lip pulls up in a half snarl, half smirk, "You bastard," she says, her eyes dimming back to blue.

"Damn straight," I say, turning away from her and walking towards the door. I turn back to her, "Get dressed, we're leaving." The moment I pull the door shut behind me, something is hurled at the door.

I shake my head, "This is gonna be a hell of a night."

I go and wait downstairs by the door, and ten minutes later, Avery comes out of her room. She's wearing a tight red tank top, skinny jeans, and a pair of boots. Her brown hair is down around her shoulders, wavy because of the braid she had it in last night.

"What was Tori doing here?" I ask, ignoring the dark look in her eye that made it difficult to think of anything other than-


She gives a smile, "Well, I was cleaning up last night and she was bored," she says in an innocent voice, "her friend dropped her off." I pull the front door open for her and she steps out.

"And what were you planning on doing with her?" The look in her eye as her claws brushed over Tori's neck was not one of loving friendship.

Avery doesn't turn, but she stops, "It was all in good fun, Derek." She says with mischief clear in her voice, "No harm done."

Yep, definitely going to be one hell of a night.

She lets herself into my Camaro, and in a matter of minutes, we're winding through the back roads towards Beacon Hills.

And, also in a matter of minutes, she's causing me more trouble.

"So, Derek," she says after a while of silence, "why are you so moody?" she asks with a giggle at the end. The window is open and she is reclining in her seat, allowing her hair to blow all around her without a care. "You were all smiles and charm, and now, you're a broody mess." She laughs.

I don't answer; there's not much point, either. During their first full moon, it's always a struggle to keep a werewolf in line, and they rarely remember it anyway, so I stay silent as I make the turn onto the main roads.

"I can hear your heart," she says with amusement.

Only a few more minutes….

I try to keep my mind from wandering, but it's just so damn difficult when she's sitting there, staring at me with a dark fixation, using that promising voice…

Her hand slips under my arm and onto my knee. She laughs and looks out the window as her fingertip traces invisible marks across my jeans. I manage to keep myself contained, but if we would just stop hitting every single fucking red light in this town, that would help a lot.

As we hit another red light, she leans over to me, running her fingers up my leg as she draws near, "Your heart is so steady," she hums in a whisper, "let's make it beat faster…"

She runs her hand back down to my knee, adding pressure as she brings her hand back up, stopping just short of where I need it most.

Her other hand pushes the collar of my jacket over and her warm lips brush against my neck. She pulls her hand away from my leg, and pulls at my fly.

The light turns green then, and without hesitation, I shift into gear and slam on the gas.

Avery is thrown into the backseat, hitting her heat on one of the leather headrests. She lets out a low growl, and I take a deep breath of relief. She glares at me in the rear view mirror, but I just chuckle, "Should've worn a seatbelt," I turn the corner onto the train station's street, "didn't your parents teach you anything?"

I pull up to the station and climb out, glad that the car ride from hell is over.

Avery crawls out of the backseat and follows me grudgingly down the station's steps.

Boyd sits on one of the benches with his arms folded over his chest. "Boyd, where's Erica?"

"She said she'd be here any minute," he said, his voice heavy and almost pained.

"How're you holding up?" I ask.

He shakes his head, "Pretty well," he says, "but not much better than the last moon." I nod.

"Sometimes it takes a while to get a hold of it. We'll work on it, by next full moon you'll be fine." He shrugs and leans back against the bench.

"I sure hope so, I feel damned useless during 'em."

"At least you're fine during the daytime." I say as Avery walks in and sits herself down on a bench in the darkened half of the station. She leans against the back of it and spreads her arms out along its metal backing, crossing her legs as she stares over at us.

"Hey Ave," Boyd calls out. I can feel caution in his voice.

She nods, the pout still prominent on her face, "Boyd." She responds.

Boyd looks up to me, "Something happen?" I nod.

"Let's just say things are going to be very interesting tonight."

"That's for sure," he says, pointing towards the stairs. I turn and see Erica striding down, her eyes locked on Avery.

"Hey Eri-" Boyd makes an attempt at capturing her attention, but it's useless.

"Oh, good, you brought this little slu-"

"Erica," I say loudly, cutting her off, "take a seat." With a grumpy hesitation, Erica jumps up on top of the train car and settles into her usual spot. She doesn't take her eyes off Avery, but she's quiet, and that's the best I can hope for until Isaac shows up.

"We've got a lot of time before sundown," Boyd says, "you sure it's a good idea to have the two of them in the same room for that long?" I shake my head.

"I don't think it's a good idea to have them out running around either." Boyd nods.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to hope everything works out, huh?" Avery and I lock eyes, and I can practically feel her lips at my neck.

"Yeah," I say, "hopefully." She smiles and leans her head on the back of the bench.

Chapter Text

Author's Note: Okay, so I lied. This 'chapter' is going to be compromised of 3 parts because shit is going dowwwwnnn.

Anyway so yeah. This chapter is not the greatest. Like it's actually really bad and choppy, so do not expect much. I'm already working on the next part so that should be up very very soon!


The quiet and relative calm of the evening is shattered by an all too familiar howl.

Isaac, Avery, Erica, and Boyd all look to me with golden eyes waiting for an order. Isaac quickly regains himself, but the other three remain on the verge of shifting.

I motion Isaac over as I stand from my spot on the steps. The sun is setting now, and it seems the alpha is wasting no time.

Isaac comes to my side, "Get them all locked up," I say as he listens.

"You're not going after him alone-"

"When you're done with that, see if you can catch up." I say before turning my back and heading up into the streets above. I breathe in deeply, and catch the faintest trace of his scent on the breeze coming from the outskirts of town.


"Alright," I say, looking around the room. Avery sits with a small curve of her lip staring over at Erica, who is intent on avoiding looking back at her. Boyd is sitting with his head in his hands, practically trembling. "Boyd?" I ask, trying to gauge his control.

He barely moves, "Isaac, we need to hurry." He slowly stands up and begins walking towards the room we use for lock ups.

"Yeah, let's get you set up." I say, following close behind him. Before I step into the darkened tunnels, I turn and point to both Avery and Erica, "I'll be right back for both of you, so just stay here," Erica rolls her eyes, and Avery gives a quick laugh.

I turn back to Boyd, "It's alright Boyd; we'll have you all set in a minute."


I dig my claws into the hood of the train car as I watch Avery stand and walk towards the staircase. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" I ask, my annoyance clear in my voice. Avery stops when she reaches the base of the first step. I jump off of the train car and land easily on my feet. "We were told to stay here." My sight fades in red.

"Do you hear that?" she asks in a quiet voice.

"Hear what?" I ask, keeping the acid in my voice.

"It's the sound of you bitching again." She says with a laugh. She raises her leg to begin climbing the stairs but before she can even put her boot down, I've already grabbed her by the fabric of her tank top and thrown her at a nearby brick wall.

I guess I don't know my own strength though because not only does she go flying into the wall, but the force carries her clean through it. I can't help but crack up in laughter.

"Never turn your back on me, bitch." I say as a few loose bricks fall into the darkened hole that Avery's body created.

As I watch the cloud of dirt and dust settle, two golden eyes stare back at me eerily from the darkness as they rise from the ground. I ready my claws and take a fighting stance when her growl echoes through the station. "Noted." Is all I hear before I'm on the ground, skidding across the floor with Avery on top of me, her teeth shining in the light.


"AVERY STOP-" I scream as I make it back to the entrance of the station. Avery hesitates, glancing back at me with a snarl on her face, giving Erica the distraction she was obviously hoping for.

I sprint toward the two just as Erica manages to roll them and pins Avery to the floor. She raises a clawed hand up above her head and prepares to drag it across Avery's body. "NO!"

I scream, just before Erica is hauled backwards by her hair and is thrown back in the hole in the wall Avery was thrown through. Derek looks down at Avery with a snarl on his fully shifted face, which does nothing but make her smile up at him. "Get the fuck up," he says, turning away from her and turning to Erica, who has begun climbing out of the hole.

Derek gabs her by the arm and pushes her over towards me, "Lock her up, will you?" he asks with an acidic voice. I catch Erica and tug her along.

"Yep," I say, leading her towards her room.


Avery slowly gets to her feet and flips her hair, "Hey, baby," she says in a near purr.

I grab her arm and pull her along with me as I walk towards the opposite tunnel. "Cut the shit Avery, I gave up the hunt to come save your ass," I don't even try to hide my annoyance, even if I did, it probably wouldn't do much good.

"Ooohh, a hunt? What are we hunting?"

"We aren't hunting anything." We round the corner and I open the door to the second lock room. I bring her into the room, let go of her arm, and flip on the lights. She stops, stares at the chains on the wall, and shakes her head.

"Well, unless you're the kinky type something tells me tonight isn't going to be as fun as I thought." Her voice is a pout in itself, and I smirk.

"Don't make this more difficult than it has to be."

She turns around quickly, sending her long brown hair flying over her shoulder and spilling across her chest. Her eyes are gold again, but her expression is confused, "Derek, hurry." Her voice is different; more like the Avery I know; I catch a glimpse of her canines and see she's shaking.

Just two steps and she's right in front of me, I lead her to the wall. I can already hear Boyd's growl echoing through the tunnels.

It only takes a few minutes to get Avery locked in. As I turn to leave, she laughs and slowly slips down the wall. "I'll see you in the morning." I say before shutting the heavy door behind me and sliding the lever in place and locking her in.

"Derek!" Isaac calls out from the station entrance. I run through the halls to find him standing in the middle of the room with his hand running through his hair and his phone clutched to his ear, "Alright man just calm down," when he spots me he walks over quickly, "okay, okay listen, I'm putting Derek on."

He hands me the phone and I turn away, "Yeah, what is it?"

"Derek," Scott breathes heavily on the other end, "we've got a problem,"

I sigh and rub my eyes, "Not another one," I mumble, putting the receiver away from my mouth.

Scott continues, "Lydia was out at a movie with Jackson tonight," he takes a deep breath, trying to steady his breathing, "he turned in the middle of the theatre; he's gone Derek, he's loose in Beacon."

I cuss under my breath, "Where, Scott? Where was he last seen?"

"I just told you he was in the theatre,"

"Has anyone else seen him?"

"I don't know! I'm trying to find him now but you need to get out here," his voice steadily gets more serious, "like now, Derek."

"Scott, I know. I'll be there soon, I'm close by." I hang up the phone and toss it back to Isaac. "The alpha's gonna have to wait I guess," I say, walking over to the bench where I laid it down.

"Tonight's one of the only clear night's we've had in a while," he says, finding his own jacket and throwing it on, "we would've been able to track his scent for once."

"Yeah, I know," I say, "and I don't like leaving them here alone."

Isaac looks toward Boyd's room, his roar is echoing through the tunnels clear as day. "They've been in there twice before, they haven't broken free yet. They'll be fine and besides, we won't be out long. I doubt Jackson's a very good werewolf," he breaks off into a laugh as we begin climbing the stairs, "frankly, I'd be more worried about Lydia tearing us apart after we tell her what her boyfriend is."

I let out a huff of a laugh, "Yeah, I guess," his cellphone rings and he quickly flips it out of his pocket.

"It's Scott," he says, looking back at me.

"Give it here," he places the phone in my palm and I answer it, "What now?"

"Please tell me you were just on Main street and had Isaac with you," Isaac looks at me and mouths 'what?'

"No," I say to Scott, "why?"

"Then we have another problem."

"Yeah, we do."


"Lydia, listen to me, everything's okay now, alright?" she just keeps shivering and staring off into nothing from her spot in the passenger seat of my Jeep.

Lydia called me from the bathroom of the movie theater, crying about Jackson turning into a monster and running out of the place. I came right away with Scott, but he went off to try and hunt Jackson down. The theater parking lot is all but deserted, which is probably a good thing.

Scott and I already went over the whole werewolf thing, but it was pretty much just flatly dropped on her so she's still in shock.

She's sitting with her feet dangling out of the car, with me leaning in the doorway, my hands outstretched and resting on the frame of the old Jeep. "H-his eyes," she finally says, tears falling from her hazel eyes, "and his teeth," she covers her mouth and looks down at her lap.

"Look, I know it's not easy seeing people you care about turn into…monsters," I lick my lips, trying to find something to say. I think back to Scott's full moon, when he was a complete ass the entire day and then completely wolfed out.

I can't help but think of Avery, attacking Scott and throwing him onto the hood of her car.

And she almost didn't stop there. "I, uh," I clear my throat, "I know it's not an easy thing to get over; I know you'll never quite trust them again," I shake my head, "I mean, you'll trust him, Jackson, but you'll always be on edge, wondering if tonight will be the night he loses control and-"

She looks up at me in absolute horror, "No, I mean, damn it," I sigh and look away. I focus on a street sign, finding it easier to look at than the girl I've loved since we were kids, "it's hard, Lydia, I'm not going to lie." I take a deep breath and look back at her, and almost instantly lose the breath I just took simply by looking at her.

"Stiles?" she urges me on when I say nothing.

"It's hard," I continue, "you'll be scared sometimes, that comes with the whole werewolf territory. Sometimes you'll wonder if it's worth it, but, if you really care, Lydia, if you really love him, that answer will always be yes." Her eyes well up again as tears spill over.

She looks down at her lap again and she shakes her head. "I don't think I can," she breaks down into sobs, "Stiles you should've seen him, how can I….?" her voice trails off and breaks.

"Lydia, you're one of the strongest people I know," I suck in a breath, "you're insanely smart and-and beautiful," her sobs stop and she once again looks back up to me and I can't help but smile down at her.

"What?" she snaps defensively.

"Nothing, nothing, you've just got-" her mascara is running all down her face in heavy black streaks.

"Well, get it!" she practically squeaks.

I hesitate, and she shoots her eyebrows up in annoyance. I sigh and bring my hand up. She closes her eye as I brush her tears away, but the black stains remain. I rub her cheek a bit harder, pulling her skin. I can't help but laugh when her brow furrows.

Her eyes fly open and she looks at me angrily. She turns in her seat and flips down the personal mirror. She pouts and mumbles, "Not so 'beautiful' now," she says as she licks her thumb and tries to scrub away the black stains.

"What?" she doesn't even hear me as she continues trying to finish washing the makeup away. I bite my lip, and, not for the first time, question if it's worth the likely pain for the nearly impossible joy.

It is.

It always has been with Lydia.

I reach out, shut the personal mirror and she reaches up to flip it back down, a protest on the tip of her tongue. I cup her cheek and turn her head back to me. "Lydia, you're gorgeous." Her eyes widen and look between mine, not knowing which one to focus on. "You always have been, no matter how much makeup you have on or where it ends up on your face," I say, gently brushing a red mark she made on her face by scrubbing too hard.

She gives me a small smile and I drop my hand.

There's nothing I want more to do right now than lean in and finally kiss the girl I've been dreaming about for so many years.

But then again, her boyfriend just wolfed out on her like an hour ago.

So maybe the timing's not quite right. But it never really is. And, it probably never will be.

I stand up straight and ask, "Do you want me to give you a lift home?"

She closes her eyes and nods before settling back in her seat as I close the Jeep door. I walk around the back and run my hand through my hair as I breathe in the cool night air.

"So worth it," I say as I look down at the mascara marks on my palm and thumb.


"You said he had a beta with him?" I ask Scott.

He nods his head adamantly, "He ran out of that alley," Scott points across the empty street, "and a beta met up with him before they took off towards the woods over there." He points again but that's a secondary concern.

"And you're sure it wasn't Jackson?" Isaac asks, folding his arms over his chest in thought.

Scott shakes his head, "I'm like 99% sure it wasn't him,"

"Scott, listen to me," I say, looking him dead in the eye, "I need you to be 100% sure," he stares back angrily; he doesn't like being questioned but he's going to have to deal with it, "because if that wasn't Jackson that means that there's a loose beta without an alpha in Beacon and possibly a pack making a move on Beacon tonight," he relaxes, seeing my point, "you can't blame me for not wanting to believe you."

He takes a deep breath, looks at the pavement of the parking lot and relaxes, "I get it," he looks back up to me, "but I'm 100% sure; it wasn't Jackson I saw. He was thinner than Jackson." I take a deep breath and turn away.

I turn away from both of them and look out over the empty parking lot of the Babies R Us. "Fuck!" the curse comes out as a half yell, half roar.

"How do you want to handle this, Derek?" Isaac asks. I bite my lip as I run through our options.

"Jackson's scent is still in the air, go back to theatre, pick up on it and track him down, both of you."

"What?" Isaac asks, "But what about the alpha and beta? You can't deal with them alone, it could be a trap, maybe they're trying to lure you out into the woods; there could be more of them out there-"

"Isaac," I say, turning back to them, "don't you think I've already thought about that?" he's visibly taken back by my tone, and I try to calm myself, "I have a plan, at least, I think I do." Scott and Isaac look at me with curious eyes. "There's this kind of rumor that an alpha can control betas by exchanging blood. It's worth a try at least. I'll head back to the station and pick up Boyd, if it works, we'll go after the alpha."

The two nod in agreement, "We'll put him up in Boyd's room in that case, then we'll come and back you up." Isaac says. I nod and then turn and take off running towards the station.


I pull into Lydia's driveway and put it in park. "I don't think I can do it," she whispers, "I don't think I can stay with him, not after this." I try to keep from bursting out in song.

"I thought you loved him?" I ask.

She shakes her head, "Maybe before, but things haven't been good between us in a long time. And now?" she throws her head back against the headrest, "Now he's a werewolf, and I just don't think I could." She looks towards me, "Are you sure Scott and Derek can find him?" I nod.

"And you'll let me know when they do?"

"I'll call you the moment I hear from them," she bites her lower lip and unclips her seatbelt. I look forward in disappointment, only to have her lean in and kiss my cheek.

"Thank you Stiles," she whispers, I turn to look at her with probably the stupidest expression on my face, "for everything." She says before disappearing and shutting the door behind her.

Always worth it.


"He got out through the back exit and came down the alley," I say, taking a deep breath in and immediately picking up Jackson's scent. Isaac and I lock eyes, both sets of which are gold.

"Well, let's see what we can do," we both test the air in each direction before we take off the way the scent is at its strongest.


As soon as I step foot in the station, I already know that my plan is a no-go. I can hear Boyd roaring uncontrollably from here. I can hear the rage behind it, and stepping foot in his room will only make things even worse.

I walk down to Erica's room and listen closely, hearing nothing but short growls inside. I swing the door open and see her standing up, looking straight at the door. I'd say she looked like a zombie, if I didn't know better. Her golden eyes flare up dangerously at me, and I get a bad feeling already.

I take one step in the room, and she goes off.

A roar rips from her throat and all of a sudden she begins thrashing wildly at her chains, trying desperately to rip them from the wall. I try to focus in on her and calm her down, but that only infuriates her more.

I would roar, if I thought that would help, but it wouldn't and I know it. It would only succeed in pissing Boyd off more and maybe setting Avery off.

I step out of the room and shut the door behind me.

I walk back to the entrance and then just keep going down the opposite tunnel.

If Boyd wasn't going absolutely fucking insane right now, he'd be my first choice. If Erica wasn't such a psychotic bitch, she'd be my second.

I unlatch the door and swing it open.

But no, all I have is a werewolf with absolutely no training and who has never been fully awake for a full moon.

Avery looks up at me from her spot on the floor. She's fully changed; her eyes are blazing, her teeth fully out as well as her claws, her ears are pointed and her nose is wider with the shift.

I take a step into the room, and she hardly moves. She lifts her head a bit more and watches closely as I draw closer. I take my jacket off and toss it on the ground behind me. Her eyes lock onto the jacket as it falls with a dangerous focus.

I get just close enough, and reach my hand out to her.

In the blink of an eye, she latches her arm onto mine, digging her claws into my skin and growling. I encircle her arm with my hand and dig my own claws into her flesh. Her growling ceases as I bring her back from the full shift through the bloody handshake.


"I don't get it," I say as we come to a dead end alleyway, "his scent just stops here." We both frantically test the air, looking for some sign of where Jackson could've gone.

"Umm, Scott?" Isaac says unsurely. I look over to him and he points up above us. There, perched on top of the roof looking down at us is Jackson, fully shifted and clearly agitated. He gives us a long, low warning growl before taking off across the rooftop.

Isaac and I just look at each other before we run towards the alley wall and use our claws to climb it quickly. We catch just a glimpse of Jackson's sprinting form before he jumps back down into the streets. "This is getting old fast," I say as we take off after him.


Avery reverts back to her human self, mostly. But I leave the chains on just to make sure it's not just an act.

I look down at my arm from my spot leaning in the doorway, and watch as her crescent-shaped claw marks. Normally by now, it would have healed by now, but it's hardly a normal wound. Blood is smeared all along my arm, both her and mine.

I had a suspicion that the blood connection was real, but I never thought it would be this strong.

"You know, you can stand there all night or you can cut me loose and I can help you." She says in a semi-serious voice.

Thing is, I never told her what was happening. Or that I needed her help.

"Derek," she says as she stands up, "it's me, really." Her heartbeat is steady; she's telling the truth.

I nod and pull the key out from my back pocket. I walk over and she holds out her chained hands and I quickly unlock the shackles from her wrists. The chains fall to the floor in a loud clatter. She runs her wrists as I turn away and begin walking to the entrance.

"So what's our first move?" she asks, appearing right by my side as I head up the stairs with my jacket in hand.

"Now we go after them. I'm not looking for a fight tonight; we do our best to avoid a confrontation and just run them out of town. We can't afford a fight with all these distractions." As soon as we step out into the moonlight I feel her muscles tense. I look over to her and find her head twitch to the side. I clench my fist, tightening my hold on the blood bond and keeping her leveled.

It works; she relaxes and clears her throat. "This is gonna ware us both out, isn't it?" she asks, her gold eyes shimmering.

"Just stay close to me and try to stay focused. And do not go after them alone." She just nods, and I can sense both anxiety and excitement in her. "Avery," I say sternly, "this is not a game."

There are several dozen reasons to not like new werewolves, the main one being that they're generally just pains in the ass. They're moody and sporadic, completely unpredictable. Even with the blood bond acting as a virtual leash, this could go very wrong, very fast.

"Then why does it feel so fun?" she asks, arching an eyebrow and biting her lip as she begins backing away in the direction of the alpha's scent. It's not Avery now, not really. She gives a quick wink before turning and sprinting toward the end of the street, and from there, to where the forest begins.

The thing about a leash is that it works both ways.

Put a Chihuahua on a leash, then you become its anchor. Put a lion, or in this case, a wolf on a leash, then you'd better damn well be an anchor.

Otherwise, you'll both get swept away.

Chapter Text


It didn't take long before Avery slowed, allowing me to take the lead as we made our way through the forest, tracking the alpha's scent all along the way.

It was…strange. I'd never tried the blood bond before, though I heard about it often when I was growing up. I can feel everything she's feeling, which at the moment is distracting as hell. She's anxious and bloodthirsty, as all werewolves start out, with a bit of lust thrown in, just to make it all the harder for me to focus. Her senses almost double with mine, allowing me to extend my vision, and giving me an extension of what's around me.

It's, in a word, impressive.

Another thing that's impressive is how easily Avery is keeping up. Not only keeping up, but matching me nearly perfectly, and showing no sign of fatigue. Boyd said before she was fast, but now? I'd wager she could outrun even Isaac.

The scent is getting stronger now, more recent. But something's wrong.

Why would the alpha make it a point to be seen in town, with a beta, only to backtrack out to into the woods again? One more thing that's unnerving is the fact that his scent is leading right to my house.

And sure enough, only moments later, we reach the clearing. My house is off to our left as we come to a stop at the edge of the tree line. I keep low to the ground, and Avery comes to kneel beside me. We're both in full shift; it's easiest to track this way.

"He's here," I say quietly to her.

"You're sure?" she asks.

"Yes," I say, slightly irritated she even needed to ask. Wherever he's hiding, it's clear that he isn't going to make a move until I come out into the clearing. I turn to her and look her dead in the eye, "Avery, stay here. Do not move unless I tell you to, alright? Just sit here, and keep an eye out."

"Derek," she grumbled warily.

"No," I say, maintaining eye contact. "You're not ready."

"Then why did you let me loose?" she retorts.

"Just stay here." I grind the words between my teeth and spit them out at her.

I push myself up from the ground and step out into the clearing.

The moon shines its pale light down, leaving the green foliage as just shades of gray and black. A feeling of déjà vu comes over me, and flashes of one of my dreams cross my mind as two blood red eyes peer back at me from the tree line directly across from me.

In my dream, it was Avery and the alpha, in the forest. And in the end, I'd bled out as I stared at the full moon above.

Let's just hope that this works out differently.

The other alpha just stares for a few moments, and I let out an impatient growl as I brace for a fight. Only, he doesn't make a move towards me, he instead moves along the tree line, keeping out of sight, just circling.

I've had about enough of this asshole, but I'd rather not be lured out into the woods without being sure where his beta is. I keep my eyes trained on him as he circles along the edge, only faintly coming into the light now and then.

A roar breaks out behind me; Avery's roar.

I tune back into her senses, and realize I've made a hell of a mistake. From Avery's eyes I can see a male beta sprinting towards me, his claws ready to tear into my back. It all seems to happen in slow motion, and I have to make a choice.

If I waste time to deal with the beta, the alpha will undoubtedly take the opportunity to catch me in the midst of throwing the beta off.

I turn just as the beta reaches me and reach up to bat him down, only to have him torn from the air by Avery. She throws him a decent distance, and he slams into the trunk of a tree with a yelp.

I turn back to the alpha to find him halfway across the clearing. I catch his outstretched claw and I sink my fist so deep in his gut, he's sent flying backwards a few feet.

Behind me, Avery sprints toward the beta as he stands back up. She grabs his throat in her hand and slams his head against the trunk of the tree. He lashes out with his claws, but she's fast enough to launch herself back, leaving his claws to rake through the air.

I stare intently at the alpha, trying to memorize him.

He's got dark hair; black, or maybe dark brown. He's tall, but lean, which makes sense as to why he's faster than I am. He's wearing a green cargo jacket and jeans, but that's all I can make out.

He lets out a short howl and snarls at me with his teeth bared. His beta scrambles to get out of the clearing, but Avery blocks him from escaping. The alpha takes a step back, just waiting for me to turn away for him to either sink his teeth in me, or take his chance and make a getaway.

I'm not fond of either option.

As I keep my eyes trained on him, his eyes drifting between me and to the two of them behind me. He looks nervous for a few moments, but then almost…smiles at me.

Suddenly, the beta takes off back across the clearing towards me.

I turn in time to watch him fly by me, and watch as the alpha reaches the tree line, with his beta in hot pursuit. Under any other circumstances, I'd be relieved.

Except Avery is locked onto the beta and I can feel her moving before she's even done it.

In my mind, I scream at her to drop the hunt as I step just in time to catch her before she gets by me.

Her speed nearly knocks me back, but I dig my boots into the grass as she tries to push through me. My hands squeeze her arms painfully tight, and stare into her eyes, trying to regain control over her.

But something's wrong. She won't drop the hunt. Something is driving her on.

I dig my claws into her skin and she copies my action, trying to duplicate the pain onto me. It hurts, but her plan backfires as our blood mixes once again, strengthening the blood bond that had apparently worn off.

Slowly, her breathing steadies, and she drops the snarl that twisted her face into something feral and ruthless. Her eyes shine in the moonlight as she releases her grip on me and relaxes.

Without a word, I turn from her and walk over to the spot where my family's old cellar lies hidden. I clear away the topsoil that covers the cellar door by kicking it away with my boot. As soon as the handle it uncovered, I pull the door open, revealing the darkened staircase below.

I can't control her. Not for a long enough period of time to find the two of them again, and even if we did find them, there's no way we can finish this tonight. There are too many things that can go wrong, and too many complications.

I walk down the steps and flip on the old, dull lighting that keeps the place from being a black hole. Avery follows slowly behind me as I walk down the dreary hall that's more like a tunnel than anything else.

"We could've taken them," she says with an edge to her voice. I reach the end of the tunnel and pull open the heavy metal door there.

"Not tonight," I say, turning back to her and stepping aside. She comes just inside the doorway.

"We made a good team." She says, her gold eyes looking up to me her eyebrow is arched, as if suggesting something.

"Inside, Avery" I say, looking at the gloomy room within, "now."

She hesitates, but I keep my eyes focused in the room. "Just," her hand reaches up to my cheek, turning my face down to look at her, "give me a minute?" she asks as she leans in, and closes the distance between us.

She crushes her lips into mine and I give in; the entire night she'd been giving off a feeling of pure, animalistic lust and I can't take it anymore. I pull her to me, I can feel her smile in the kiss as my hands wander down to her ass and grab it roughly. She gasps and I bite at her lower lip. She whimpers a bit as blood drips from it.

Her head dips to my neck and she teases my neck with kisses and nips. I lean my head back against the wall, closing my eyes and she trickles her mouth over my skin. "Avery," I say, grinding my teeth together. She mumbles questioningly against me, "I'm sorry." When she lifts her heard to question, I push her back into the room and slam the door shut, grabbing the padlock and locking her in before she even has a chance to recover.

Not a second after I clamp the padlock into place, a slam sounds against the door followed by a frustrated growl and several more slams.

"Sorry, Ave," I say from my spot leaning against the door, "I had to."

I had to lock her in, for the good of both of us.

The Morning After


I suck in a breath as Derek steps back, pulling his claws from my spine and letting his bloodied hand fall by his side. My knees feel weak and my head is spinning. Did I really do all that?

I feel almost violated by the fact that I don't remember any of it. "What happened to Tori?" I ask, my voice shaking. I look down at my trembling hands.

"She's fine," he says bluntly.

I rub my forehead, trying to clear my thoughts, "What about Jackson? Did they...?"

"It's complicated." he says, "We're supposed to be on our way over there now," he says, turning away from me and taking a step towards the door.

I reach out frantically and grab his hand, "Wait, Derek," he turns and I let go of his hand nervously. His green eyes look at me with...I don't know...something that makes me stop thinking. "I'm sorry," I say, finally finding my words, "about everything,"

He doesn't say anything, just stares back at me in silence. I take two nervous steps toward him and break eye contact, instead focusing on his lips, "Derek," I whisper to him, wishing he'd just make the first move.

As if answering my prayers, his fingers lace their way through my hair and pull me forward into his lips.

It's as intense as it was last night, his other hand wraps around my waist tightly, and the kiss grows deeper. His tongue pushes its way into my mouth and I let him have control. My fingers grab at his hair, pulling him down to me with a fierce intensity.

His cellphone rings, breaking the spell. We try to ignore it, but it's gone. He growls as he pulls his hand from my hair and we both pull away, grumpy and panting. Derek keeps his arm laced around my hips, holding me in place. I can't help but revel in his warmth; this old dark room is freezing, and he's...I look up to him as he brings his phone to his ear. "What?" he asks. I take pride in the fact that there's a lowness to his voice that wasn't there before.

I place my hand on his arm and he lets me go. I turn away and step through the doorway. I stare at the light pouring in from the cellar doorway. Events from last night stream through my head.

I bite my lip in embarrassment; I'm like the most bipolar werewolf ever in existence.

"We're on our way now," Derek says snapping his phone shut and tucking it back into his pocket. I decide to just pretend like everything's normal for now, and that we did not just have a make out scene in a creepy old cellar.

Except he makes that hard when he comes up behind me and hooks his arm around my stomach, pulling me tightly against him once again. I absentmindedly place my hands on his arm, feeling the rigid muscles beneath his skin. "This isn't over," his words are dark and promising. I'm completely paralyzed against him. Luckily for me, he releases me, smacking my ass as he walks past me and down the hall and up the stairs as casual as ever.

"Nowhere close," I whisper breathlessly.

Chapter Text


I shut the door of the Camaro and look out over the nearly empty boardwalk that runs along a pier. Isaac and Scott begin walking towards us as Derek comes around the side of his car and stops beside me. Isaac smiles at me pleasantly, “So how was your night?” He asks, then looking towards Derek.

“Complicated,” he says simultaneously as I say,

“Blurry,” Isaac smiles at that.

“So where are they?” Derek asks, looking to Scott for an answer.

Scott shrugged, “Allison said he’d be here any time now,” Derek nodded.

“Argent always likes to make a point that he’s in charge.” Derek turns to me, “Go get back in the car, Argent doesn’t know about you yet,”

I shake my head, “Who’s Argent? Like, Allison Argent?”

“Her father,” Scott answers, looking to the side he sucks in a breath through his teeth, “who also happens to be a werewolf hunter.”

My eyes go wide and my mouth drops open, “Oh,” I look at Scott, “you two were such a cute couple, too.”

Scott’s eyes bug out, “We still are,” he says defensively.

“Which is arguably the dumbest thing you’ve ever done,” Derek snaps.

“It’s not dumb, it’s cool.” I say, smiling at Scott, who looks at Derek as if he’s waiting for a comeback.

Derek turns his head to me and leans forward as if he hadn’t hear me, “What?” he asks sharply.

I look at him and shrug as my smile slowly fades, “Well, I think it’s cool,” I catch Isaac trying to muffle a laugh in his hand, “what about you, Isaac?” I ask, completely throwing him under the bus.

Isaac pulls his hand away and stops trying to hide his amusement, “Oh, I think it’s adorable.” Derek shakes his head and grabs my shoulders, turning me around as he walks me back to the Camaro.

“Avery stay focused.” He says grumpily as he reaches around me and opens the door, attempting to usher me inside.

I turn around and stare up at him, “But why am I the only one who has to sit in the car?” Derek looks down at me with raised eyebrows.

“Are you serious right now?” I bite my lip and look over to Isaac and Scott, who are watching with smiles on their faces as they whisper to each other.

“I’m tired of being alone.” I whisper. His green eyes continue to stare at me flatly.

“Avery when was the last time you were ‘alone’?”

“Last night in that cellar.” I argue.

“You weren’t alone, I was there all night, and besides, you don’t even remember it.” I stare up at him, trying to keep my smile from sliding across my face.

I fail.

“You stayed with me….?” I ask faintly.

His green eyes don’t waver from mine, and I have the urge to kiss him again.

Something tells me he’s feeling that, too.

“Isaac,” he says, finally turning away and walking back towards the two.

“Yes?” Isaac says, biting on his thumb as he looks between the two of us with an impish grin.

“Would you go keep her company,” he says it as if it’s a bother, but Isaac seems more than happy to oblige.

“Oh, bet,” Isaac says as he walks quickly towards the car. He keeps the smile on his face as he opens the rear door and gets in the backseat.

I slide in the passenger seat begrudgingly, but settle back in the leather seat as Isaac lays out in the back. “So, for real,” he begins, “how was your night?”

He practically hums the question, as if he already knows what happened. “I don’t remember most of it, Derek…showed me what happened. It was weird.”

“Yeah, that sounds familiar,” he sighs as he closes his eyes and relaxes further into the leather.

“Wait,” I begin, “Where are Erica and Boyd?”

Isaac yawns, “I let them out this morning; they’re out tracking the alpha’s scent around town, trying to figure out why he came through Beacon in the first place.”

“I thought he was just trying to make sure Derek noticed him,” I suggest.

“Yeah, but just to be sure, Derek sent them out on it.” I nod to myself.

“So, why are we here? Derek really didn’t explain,”

“Allison Argent’s father, Chris Argent, got to Jackson before we did last night.” He said seriously.

I bite my lips as I watch Derek and Scott talk outside, the sun shining down on both of them. “They didn’t kill him?” I remember Isaac mentioning Jackson was a werewolf before, though he never quite delved into it too much.

“No, Scott called Allison last night and she convinced her father not to let his father know about him,”

“Wait, Allison’s grandfather?”

“Yeah,” Isaac sighs, “however dangerous her dad is, her grandpa is worse. A lot worse.” His voice is dark and wary, “Anyway, Chris got to Jackson first last night; he wasn’t a fan for killing a teenager, so he kept him hidden apparently, now he just wants him out of his hair so his father doesn’t kill him.”

“And Allison helped convince him to just give Jackson over?”

“Yep.” Isaac says as a black SUV comes rolling up to Scott and Derek. “And here he is.”

Allison’s dad gets out of the SUV, giving Scott a dirty look as he does. “Wait, so Mr. Argent just lets Allison date a werewolf?”

“Of course not,” Isaac says, sitting up and looking out the heavily tinted window, “Scott and Allison have been keeping their relationship hidden recently, Mr. Argent thinks they’ve broken up.” Mr. Argent walks to the back of his car and pops open the back door.

Inside, the back seat is basically cage in from the front seat, much like a police car. Jackson stumbles out, giving Mr. Argent an angry look as he yells, “Just wait till I tell my father about this!”

Mr. Argent just laughs as Derek steps forward and grabs Jackson by the collar of his shirt, pulling him backwards easily, I focus in and listen as he speaks, “You shifted last night you idiot,” Jackson’s face lights up.

“I did?” he asks with excitement in his voice.

“Yes, you did.” Mr. Argent said, “So if you tell your father about me ‘kidnapping’ you,” he pulls out a flashdrive from his pocket and holds it up, “and I’ll just have to show your father what you were up to last night.”

Jackson looks back to Derek, “You can’t let him do that,” Jackson says in a panic, “he’ll expose me.”

Derek lets go of him and shrugs, “You’re not part of my pack Jackson; this doesn’t affect me at all.” Jackson’s face grows cold.

“Is that what this is about? Forcing me to join your little werewolf club?” he asks, his voice coated in acid. “Fine, I’ll join,” he finishes with a huff. Scott folds his arms.

“I don’t want you in my pack,” Derek says much to Jackson’s astonishment, “but you need to learn some basics to control this and I’m your only option. So for now, you’re mine.”

“Are we done here, then?” Mr. Argent asks, sounding bored.

Derek nods and Argent climbs back into his SUV. He rolls down the window before pulling off, “Keep control over them Hale, my father won’t be as forgiving.” And with that, he started the engine and pulled off in the opposite direction.

“So what happens now?” Jackson asks, sounding suddenly nervous.

“Now,” Scott begins, “I take you home and you keep quiet about this.”

“I’ll be in touch in a day or so,” Derek cuts in, “I have a few more important things to deal with than your sorry ass.” Derek walks towards the Camaro, leaving Jackson in a confused state, probably because he’s never, in his whole life, been ‘not important’.

I smile and bite my lip as I watch Derek walking slow and confident back to the driver’s side. The familiar throb comes back again, and I force it away as Derek opens the door and sits in himself down behind the wheel.

“So, what’re we doing today?” Isaac asks cheerfully as the Camaro roars to life. I watch as Scott pulls Jackson along down the sidewalk, forcing him away from the car and back to his house.

“Nothing,” Derek replies as we pull off down the stretch of road that leads back into town, “I’m taking both of you home.”

I can’t complain about that plan, I feel like I haven’t eaten in days and I smell like mold from sleeping in that musty old cellar.

I guess I’ll have to hit the grocery store though since I have nothing to eat at…’home’.

“Aww, c’mon, what am I gonna do today?” Isaac whines.

“What do you normally do without me?” Derek asks, more rhetorically than anything.

“Wait for you to call me and tell me what we’re doing for the day,” Isaac grumbles.

Derek just sighed and squinted his eyes at the sunlight as it steadily grew brighter. I looked down in the cup holder in between our seat and saw his aviator sunglasses. I pick them up and open them so that he can just slip them on.

I hold them out to him and he gives me a quick glance before taking them. His fingers brush over mine so gently that I practically shudder and just like that, the throb is back. I let go and Derek quickly slips the sunglasses over his green eyes.

I turn away and decide to look out the window and pretend to be preoccupied with watching the people of Beacon pass by.

It’s a rouse, of course. All I can think about is his lips, and his muscles, and I swear I can still feel his hands grabbing my ass.

I try to convince myself it’s just the skinny jeans.

I hardly ever wear jeans, especially the ‘skinny’ kind. What is it about being a werewolf that makes it necessary to wear denim? Derek, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica all wear basically the same thing; denim and leather.

Though I suppose it could just be another weird thing I’ll probably never understand.

At least my ‘wolf side’ is a team player though, right?

We drive in silence for a while before Isaac stick his head in between us, “So, what’s up with you two?”

I look over to Isaac and then to Derek, who takes his eyes off the road for a brief moment to look at us. I smile and try to act nonchalant. I close my eyes, feigning exhaustion, “It’s just been a really long night.” Isaac nods, and fades back into the backseat, still looking rather unconvinced.

Just a few minutes later, and we’ve pulled into my driveway for what feels like the hundredth time in a few short days. As I open the door, I say my goodbyes, “So, I guess I’ll see you guys later then,” I push myself up and out of the car.

Isaac pokes his head into the front seat once more, “Oh, don’t forget to turn the hose off,” he says.

“Wait, what hose?” I ask with absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.

“The hose you set up to fill up the pool that you’re going to invite me to swim in sometime soon.” Isaac finishes with a smile, “Just make sure it doesn’t overflow.”

I just nod as he moves himself up into the front seat and closes the door with a quick, “Bye, Ave!”

I hesitate for a minute as they pull off back down my driveway before I turn and head inside.

My hair is pretty much a wild mess; there’s a reason I don’t leave it down usually. I try my best to drag my fingers through it comb it out at least a little, but there’s really no use to it.

As I step inside, I head straight for the pool and find it nearly full. The water level is still about a foot shy from the edge, but I guess that’s enough. I turn off the hose and try not to think how massive my father’s water bill will be for this month, but he did tell me to come here, so…

I push my dad from my mind because if I think about him, I’ll think about my mother and how I’m virtually an orphan. Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic.

I walk up to my room, intent on taking a quick shower before heading out to the grocery store to get some food. As soon as I step inside the bright yellow room, I see my phone sitting on my bed. I walk over and unlock it, and am bombarded with messages and a voicemail.

Most of the messages are from Tori, asking me where I am, if I want to do something later, then where I am again. I ignore them for now as I listen to the voicemail.

“Hi there Avery,” it’s Beacon Hills girls lacrosse coach, Lori Hathaway, “your guidance counselor Mrs. Fischer has been trying to get in touch with you for the past few days to get you to come in and talk about your schedule for this year, but you haven’t been answering your home phone,” no surprise that my mother hasn’t bothered to let me know, “she needs you to come down tomorrow to set up your classes because that is the deadline for seniors, I want to speak with you too. We’ve got a lot to talk about.” A dark hole forms in my chest as the recording comes to an end.

I toss my phone on my bed and head into the bathroom. I walk to the shower and turn the nob to the H engraved in the metallic dial. I let it run for several minutes before I begin to peel my clothes off my grimy-feeling skin. I don’t bother closing the bathroom door; I live alone now, and one of the perks of such a thing is getting to be naked.

And not wear a bra.

And play loud music at night whilst doing wall ball.

And have your werewolf friends over to swim.

I step into the shower and the hole in my chest seems to become less immense; it shallows as I wash the grime and dirt and blood off from last night and watch it all circle around and disappear down the drain.

The steam helps me clear my head as I shampoo and condition my hair. After that, I grab the soap and practically cover my body in suds. I reach down to run my hands over my legs and as my hand runs over my right knee, I notice a slight ache.

The heat of the water is practically making me sweat all over again. I turn the dial nearly the entire opposite direction, and brace myself for the change in temperature.

Within seconds, the water turns ice cold; I suck in a breath and run my hands through my hair. Sometimes after a particularly hard conditioning day with Hathaway, I’d take cold showers to get myself used to the cold temperature and then take an ice bath to make sure I wouldn’t be as sore for the next day of conditioning, and that way I’d always be ready to go. Which is important with a coach as insane as Hathaway.

After a few more minutes, I grab the towel I used earlier, and wrap myself up in it as I squeeze out my hair. I walk back out into my bedroom and throw on a sports bra, an old lacrosse tournament t-shirt, tight under armor workout capris, some ankle socks that I hardly ever wear, and finish it off with my trusty black Nike shoes.

I comb my hair frantically, my stomach feels like it’s going to cave in on itself if I don’t get some food soon. I gather my hair into a high pony tail and twist it around into a bun so it’ll dry with curls.

I grab my phone, keys, and wallet and I head back outside. I climb into my still uncomfortably big Hummer and set off for the grocery store.

When I get there, the place is unfortunately busy. I hate it when it’s busy, it just ups the likelihood that I’ll see someone that I know.

I find a place to park where there are absolutely no car around me, which was smart because when I tried to land in a space, I ended up literally sitting in the middle of two of them.

I stuff my phone into my bra since I have no pockets, grab my wallet and keys and lock the door as I get out. I grab a cart as I walk through the automatic doors and take a deep breath, this is what adulthood is like.

Adulthood is buying groceries and filling up pools, and getting lost in said grocery store apparently because after three laps around the store, I still haven’t found the milk aisle.

What I have found is a certain red headed Lydia Martin shopping with her mother.

She hasn’t seen me yet, that much is certain. I try to turn my cart in the complete opposite direction as stealthily as possible, but as I turn, my wheel lets out a dreadful screech and seemingly everyone in the entire store turns and looks at me.

Certain red headed Lydia Martin included.

I slap myself internally as she begins walking in my direction with a fake smile on her face, “Avery,” she greets sweetly.

“Hi Lydia,” I say, trying my best to act glad to see her, “how have you been?”

Lydia’s smile quickly turns bitter, “Let’s just fast forward, shall we?”

“Sounds good,” I say, dropping the act.

“Nellie Jacobs, Queen of Beacon Hills, as I’m sure you’re aware, graduated last year,”

I bite my lip and narrow my eyes, “Lydia, of course I’m aware, she was on the lacrosse team and what do you mean ‘Queen’?” I ask. How does Lydia come up with this garbage?

“Yes, Queen. She was the most popular girl at Beacon, and now everyone is trying to be the next Nellie Jacobs,” she eyes me up and down critically, “and, everyone knows that you’re the obvious choice; you’re athletic, pretty- despite how you might look right now-, and you’ve already got your own little scandal under your belt.”

I look around the store nervously; it feels like everyone’s eyes are on me, and suddenly, I realize they are. They all must think I’m some drunk floozy that couldn’t hold her alcohol.

“I’m just here to tell you not to get too comfortable, your senior status does not guarantee you the crown.” She finishes.

“Lydia, you can go ahead and be Queen, I just want to finish my senior year, I don’t need some war with you added on top of everything.” Lydia looks insanely confused.

“Oh,” she says, drawing back from me, “then I’ll…see you back at school, I guess…?” I nod and she turns away from me, still somewhat dumbfounded by my lack of interest in her high school politics.

As she walks away, I look around the store. People are whispering and sneaking glances at me, “Oh, she’s that lacrosse girl? The one that was in the car accident?” one woman asked another.

“I heard from Paul at the barber shop that her mother kicked her out, too.” One man said to his wife.

“She’s gonna lose that damn scholarship; colleges take that stuff very seriously.” The wife said back.

Tears fill my eyes, and I struggle to keep them inside. I stroll the cart into the feminine product aisle and am relieved to find it empty. I let out a heavy breath and look up to the ceiling, willing the tears away.

How do these people even know this stuff? Why did it matter to them? Is it just another thing to shake their heads at and say ‘what an idiot’?

I take several deep breaths as a woman approaches. She pauses when she sees my face, “Are you alright honey?” she asks, genuinely concerned.

I want to tell her the truth, then attack her with a hug and possibly cry onto her shoulder, “Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile, “yeah, I will be in a minute, thank you.”

So, I lied, sucked it up, and forced myself to put on a show.

Because apparently, that’s what adulthood is.

The woman nods unconvincingly, but carries on.

As soon as she walked out of the aisle, I was moving on. I pushed the cart quickly around the store once more, grabbing Apple Cinnamon Cheerios, Spaghettio’s, several of those weight watcher’s dinners, some apples, of course the crucial donuts, some Gatorades, iced tea, oven pizzas, salad stuff, and just a bunch of junk that I pretty much just tossed into the cart absentmindedly. Oh, and I finally found the milk.

Go me.

By the time I got to the self-checkout, most of the people had cleared out. Although, there are still too many for my liking.

I push my cart up to the terminal, and begin scanning everything one-by-one, and placing them into the bagging area.

When I finally get everything done, I hit ‘select payment method’. And prepare to hit credit card, when the voice tells me to pick credit or debit. I look at the card my dad left me, and II realize I have absolutely no idea which it is.

I pull out the card and bite my lip. I look around for help but find that somehow, when I need them, all the helpers have somehow disappeared.

An impatient looking old woman comes to stand behind me in line and I stare at the terminal, frozen with confusion. I grab my phone from my bra and begin going through my contacts, wondering who could help me.

I scroll past Derek’s name, thinking he’d be too busy to help me, along the way I scroll by Isaac, Boyd, and Erica, none of which are promising and one of which would just hang up on me anyway. I see my mom’s contact and I shiver.

The old woman sighs dramatically and I frantically scroll back up to the top of the list and hit ‘call’.

Three long rings later, his voice is on the other end, “What?” he asks. For a moment I wonder if I’m annoying him, but I pass it off as him not having my number saved in his phone yet.

“Hi, um, it’s me,” I say, my voice is shaking and I feel like I’m going to choke as the tears prick my eyes again.

“Avery?” Derek asks, smoother this time.

“I need your help.”

“What is it? Where are you?” his voice is alert and tense, and I smile at that, causing a tear to fall over the edge and slide down my cheek.



“The grocery store,” I sit back down on my couch as I repeat her words in confusion. Her breath is ragged, and the residual of the blood bond tells me she’s upset.

“Yeah,” she says, I can hear the smile on her lips, and I can sense embarrassment coming from her, “I’m in the checkout line, there’s this woman behind me, and I can’t tell if my card is credit or debit, and I have no idea what I’m doing, so…”

I lean back against the back of the couch and close my eyes, “Are you looking at the car right now?” I ask.


“Does it say ‘debit’ on it?”


“Then it’s a credit card, Ave. Stop crying, you’re alright.” She breathes in deeply, trying to clear her nose.

Suddenly, she lets out a laugh, “The woman just gave me a dirty look and went to another register.” Her laugh continues, and I can’t hold back a short laugh myself.



I slide the card along the slit with shaking hands, “Do you need anything?” he asks.

I need a lot of things, Derek.

“A hug,” I say, laughing nervously as I wipe my cheeks and begin loading the bags into my cart. “Thank you,” I say as I begin pushing the cart toward the exit. I’m a complete red, crying mess, but I still smile, because on the other end comes his response;


Chapter Text

Author's Note: If you absolutely hate cliff hangers, turn back when it says: Later That Night.

I don't own the song used.




My alarm clock went off around eight, but I was already awake anyway.

I hadn’t been able to sleep all night, all I could do was go over last night’s events in my head over and over again, and it stills feels like a lie. But then, the evidence is right there in the form of Derek’s memories, so really, I should just accept it and move on.

Of course, it wasn’t just the fit of amnesia that was bothering me.

“Thank you,”


Thinking about his voice as he said it just makes me smile.

Nope, no, I’m getting ahead of myself, he was probably just saying that to be nice. But then, maybe he actually meant it and I’m dismissing it too quickly.

Okay all of this is irrelevant right now.

I turn into the parking lot of the high school and thankfully land in the spot I’m aiming to park in this time. I put my Hummer in park and step out of the car. I pull down my North Carolina lacrosse t shirt, which I got from a recruitment visit, over my blue running shorts and pull up my black mid calves from my usual black Nikes.

I let my bun out and spiraled hair falls over my shoulders, I quickly tie it back in a high ponytail and twirl the hair around my finger, making the spirals come together in one long spiraled ponytail.

I walk into the front office and from there into Mrs. Fischer’s office. She stands up and smiles as I walk in and close the door behind me, “Good morning Avery, how are you?” she says with a warm smile.

I sit in the chair before her desk as I answer, “Pretty good, how ‘bout you?”

She opens a drawer in her desk and places a folder in front of her. “Oh, about the same,” she says as she opens the folder and flips through some pages. “Alright, so here,” she hands me a page with some highlighted lines, “is the list of classes being offered this fall. All of the highlighted ones are the classes that are still available, I’ve already signed you up for AP Literature to take care of your final English credit, but you still need six more classes to fill your day. So, go ahead and take a look and let me know which ones you’d like.”

I look down at the page and find that there are very few yellow highlighted streaks to be found. “Umm, I was planning on taking AP European history,” I say, hoping it’s still open. As I go down the list, I find it highlighted, “yeah, it’s still open.” I smile, maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

I’ve always liked Mrs. Fischer, her smile is warm and inviting, and though she’s probably only fifty or so, something about her feels almost grandmother-y.

Mrs. Fischer turns to her computer and begins typing AP Euro into my schedule, “Okay, just five more, try to find a math, you still need one more credit to graduate.”

I look over to the math section and bite my lip, the only ones available are AP Calculus and on-level Statistics. I’ve never really been great at math, so I decide to take it easy on myself, “I’ll go ahead and take Stat.” Mrs. Fischer nods as she types statistics into my schedule.

I look over the other classes, but nothing really catches my eye, “If you want, you can be an office aide for me,” she says, “you won’t have to do much, just run some notes to classes for students to come down and see me, that way we only would have four more classes to worry about.”

I smile and nod, “Yeah, that would be great because I’m not really finding much else here,” I say as I look down at the list again.

“Yeah, all the classes filled up pretty quickly, but you’re still going to need four more, abbreviated schedules don’t start until second semester, I’m afraid.”

I look over the list several more times, “Journalism sounds nice,” Mrs. Fischer punches the keys on her computer once more, “and I guess creative writing,” I’ve never really been that creative though, “and Lit as film,” which is basically a senior slack class where all you do is watch movies. I look over the list, but find nothing except, “Anatomy…?” I ask “I heard that there’s a lot of memorization in that class.”

Mrs. Fischer turns to me and nods, “Yeah, it’s a challenging class, but you’ve always been a bright student, if you take it, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

I’ve never been great at memorization, but there’s nothing left, so I look up and smile, “Then, yeah, if you say so, the go ahead and sign me up.” Mrs. Fischer smiles and turns away once more.

“Thank you so much for coming in, Avery,” she says happily as she submits my schedule, “oh, and before you go,” she says, turning back to me, “I just wanted to know how you’re doing,” I smile anxiously, “how you’re really doing, dear.”

I let the smile fade, “It’s been kind of rough,” I admit, “my mom hasn’t really made it easy.” Mrs. Fischer nods as if she already knows about her throwing me out. I shouldn’t be surprised, seems like the whole town knows, “But, I’ve made some new friends,” I say, thinking of Stiles, Isaac, and Derek mainly, “and they’ve been helping me, a lot.”

She keeps a small, genuine grin on her face, “That’s wonderful Avery, but I’m sorry to hear about your mother, I’m sure she’ll come around eventually.”

God, I hope not.

“Yeah,” I say instead as I push myself out of my seat, “thanks for helping with my schedule,”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here, darling. Oh, and before you go, the school’s new principle would like to see you in his office.” I nod numbly as I step out of her office and make my way to the principal’s office.

I walk to the assistant’s desk just outside the office, “Hi there, I’m Avery, the principal wanted to see me?” I ask, wanting this to be over and done with as quickly as possible.

“Yes,” the man says, “if you just go on in and have a seat, I’m sure he’ll be in shortly.”

I follow his instructions and ten minutes later, I find myself bored out of my mind and late for my meeting with Coach Hathaway. Which is a very, very bad thing.

I sigh in frustration as I look around the bland office, but my heart stops dead when I finally notice the nameplate sitting on the desk.

Principal Argent

For a brief moment, I wonder how in the hell Allison’s dad got to be the principal of Beacon high, but when I heard the door close behind me and an old man walked in, my heart was beating so fast I wondered if I was going to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, however dangerous her dad is, her grandpa is worse.”

“Hello there, Avery,” he says. A shiver runs down my spine as the old man, dressed in a gray suit, comes to sit on the corner of the desk in front of me, folding his hands over his knee and smiling calmly down at me.

He knows, that’s it, he knows.

He’ll kill me and that’ll be it.

Inwardly, I tell myself to shut up. “Hi,” my voice comes out weakly, I clear my throat, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know Beacon was getting a new Principal,” when I get nervous I ramble, and the ramble in full effect right now.

Argent just lets out an amused huff and looks down at his hands, “Well, the decision was made at the end of last year,” he says before looking up to me again, “and if I’m not mistaken, you were quite preoccupied at the time.”

There is no way he doesn’t know I’m a werewolf, he probably has some kind of spidey-sense and he’s gonna kill me and-

“Well, I-” I begin before Gerard holds up a hand in front of me, signaling me to be quiet.

“I try not to judge people, Ms. Chastings, but I just want to let you know that things are going to change around here,” he stands up and walks slowly behind his desk, “I’m not condemning you, or singling you out, but I am sending a message that I hope you will pass on to others: That kind of behavior will not be tolerated anymore here at Beacon, do you understand?”

I nod numbly.

“Good, I hope you have a good day, and I’ll see you back here at the start of school.”

I stand up and don’t bother smiling as I say, “You too,” he turns to some papers on his desk, and I slip out of his office, my heart beating madly. His assistant pays me no mind as I leave the main office.

The halls are empty, and I’m grateful for it. I suck in air as I walk to the athletic department, which is all the way across the school.

He didn’t know, here I was thinking he was going to kill me, and he didn’t even know. I cup my face in my hands briefly, taking in a long, slow breath. I really am horrible at this whole werewolf thing.

Then again, I didn’t wolf out and shift in his office, so I’ve got that going for me, right?

I shake my hands out in front of me as I walk, and I probably look crazy but I hardly care anymore. When I finally make it to the athletic department, I walk straight into Coach Hathaway’s office and stand before her desk.

“You’re late,” she snaps, looking up at me with her icy blue, horrifying eyes.

Mrs. Hathaway if one of the most intimidating people I’ve ever met. And yet, she’s barely 5’3’’ and is probably not over 110 pounds on her chubbiest day. She has brown hair so dark that it looks nearly black and her bulging icy blue eyes could tear anyone apart with just one look.

It’s always funny to see the freshmen on the team when they talk to her; their voices shake, they avoid eye contact, and shake. Then again, anytime you talk to her, you feel the very same way all over again.

“Yeah, I’m sorry coach, the principal wanted to see me.” She just looks me up and down.

“How’s your leg?”

“It’s alright now, I don’t even feel it anymore.” Coach nods and leans back in her chair.

Her eyes just pierce through me, and I can feel her disappointment without her saying a word. She skips over the morality talk, thankfully. “Marissa graduated last year, which means, I need a new captain. I want that to be you.”

I smile, “Thanks coach, but, uh, Cassie’s been working for this since freshmen year,” her eyes are cold and unfeeling, “I couldn’t just take that from her, she really has given it her all.”

Coach leans forward in her seat, “There’s a good class of freshmen coming in this year, Avery, I’m not even sure Cassie is going to be starting.” My heart sinks slowly, “these one coming in, they’ve got raw talent that can’t be taught, but they need someone to lead through experience, and that person is you.”

I bite my lip and stare down at the floor. I can’t look her in the eyes, I’ll just lose my nerve as I ask “Can we be co-captains, then? She’s one of the hardest workers out there and she’s been improving a lot every season.”

“I don’t do co-captains,” she says abruptly, “they need a clear leader, any division and the team falls apart. I want you as my captain. You can lead on and off the field, Avery. You just have to give yourself the chance.” I look up to her face, but find not much emotion on it, as always.

She stands up from her seat and brushes by me and out her office door. “C’mon, I want to show you something.” I follow her down the hall as she swings her keys around her arm. When we reach the jersey room, she deftly unlocks the door and ushers me inside.

The entire room is full up with red and white jerseys hanging from several dozen racks, each one for different teams. The fall sports, field hockey, boys and girls soccer, football, and bocce ball for the special education students, are up front with the Varsity jerseys hanging above the JV ones. Next comes the winter sports, girls and boys basketball, girls and boys hockey, and indoor track. Finally, in the back, are the spring sports, softball, baseball, wrestling, outdoor track, and, finally, girls and boys lacrosse.

The place is stacked to the brim with jerseys, and the familiar smell of sweat and grass clings to the place. I don’t mind, it only barely beats the smell of my lacrosse bag. Only barely.

When we reach the back, I notice there’s not only red and white jerseys for the girls, but a long row of black ones. “We just got them in last week,” Coach Hathaway says, sifting through the rack and pulling out one of them

She hands it over to me, and I take it with excitement written on my face. The fabric is smooth and light, I look down to the number; 13. My number.

Suddenly, coach piles the black skirt on top of it. “I don’t know about you, but I hated the skirts,” I realize then that the black uniforms aren’t skirts, but shorts.

I look up at her, my eyes still wide with happiness, “Will we still wear the red ones?” I ask.

She nods and looks up to the red ones hanging above us. “We’ll alternate between the red and the black. I got them since we had some extra money left over from the fundraisers last year. Only for varsity.” I nod, it’s always good to have something to work up to.

“The boys, on the other hand,” she says, moving over to a rack of camo uniforms, “decided to take an alternate route.” She holds one up, and all I can think about is how excited Isaac is going to be when he finds out.

“They’re even getting helmets to match. I’m told by Coach Finstock that they’re going to be flat black with two camo stripes coming down the center with a green chrome facemask.”

If it was anyone else standing in this room, I’d say that sounds badass.

Except coach hates cursing of any kind and made me run a mile for saying “shit” last year after a game when a girl checked me in the hand and it swelled up.

So I think I’ll keep that to myself.

“That’s sick,” I say instead.

I hold my jersey tightly in my hands as she walks back over to the girls jerseys and plucks my red and white jerseys down, completing it with a red skirt. “One more thing,” she said as she leaned down to a small box behind the JV jersey rack.

She reaches her hand into the box and pulls something from it. As she stands back up, she holds three white ‘C’ patches out to me. “One for each jersey, patch them on and-”

“’C’ as in ‘captain’…?” she doesn’t bother responding, it’s a stupid question anyway.

“They go on the right shoulder, just like this,” she says as she places one of the patches on my jersey to show me the placement.

“Yeah, alright.” I take the patches in my hand and coach motions me out of the jersey room.

I’ve thought about what it’d be like to be captain sometimes, but I’ve never liked what I come up with. I’m not great at motivating people, and when I get frustrated I tend to be less friendly than I really should be. That’s all hardly changed.

Cassie should be captain. She started out on JV freshmen and sophomore year and only got moved up last year to varsity. But she’s always been one of the most supportive girls on the team and she hustles to make up for her stick skills, which could use some work. Even if she isn’t a starter, she could probably be a better captain from the sidelines than I’ll be on the field.

And she’ll be crushed to learn that she’s not captain.

“Tryouts are right after the first day of school, Avery, I expect you to be 100%. If you’re not, don’t bother coming.” She doesn’t mean that, whenever coach says ‘…or don’t bother coming.’ It means you’d better get your ass there and get down to business.

“You’ll be starting on defense this year,”

“But I’ve always been a middie,” I argue.

“You’ve never had a mangled knee before, Avery.” Her eyes are as cold as ever, and she makes it clear this isn’t up for debate. “You’ll be starting at D, and if later I feel like you can handle midfield, you’ll be back on midfield. Until then, you take the draws then get back on the defensive end.”

“Yes, coach.” She nods wordlessly as she walks away, leaving me in the hallway, clutching my jerseys to my chest.

Walking back to my Hummer parked at the far end of the parking lot, my cellphone rings. I pull it out from my bra and see that it’s Isaac. “Hey what’s up?” I ask with a small smile on my face.

“You busy?” he asks with an inviting edge to his voice.

“No, not really, why?”

When he answers, his voice is dark and ominous, “Meet me at the stadium field in half an hour. Come alone.” He finishes with a dramatic extension of ‘alone’. “Oh, but bring your stick.” He adds on cheerily before hanging up. I laugh to myself as I stuff my phone back into my sports bra and pull out my keys.

About twenty minutes later, I’m back at my house, grabbing my lacrosse stick and bag and then heading right back out the door again. In just over fifteen minutes, I’m right back in the school parking lot.

I grab my stuff and fast walk all the way to the practice field, using my stick lightly as a walking stick like that hobbit in the movie who yells, “I’m going on an adventure!”

I smile to myself and walk faster.

When I get to the field, Isaac, Scott, and Stiles all have their sticks and are passing in a triangle. “You’re late!” Isaac calls out.

“I’m getting that a lot today,” I smile and toss my bag on the ground. There’s a lacrosse net pulled out with small pans tied into each of the four corners.

“Hey Avery,” Scott says with somewhat of a smile on his face. It’s a better greeting than I got from him last time, so I’ll take it.

Stiles only folds his lips over each other and gives me a little nod. “Hey, Stiles,” I sound as happy as possible, and his pursed lips turn into a full smile.

“So, what is this? Werewolf lax hangout day?” I ask humorously.

“Umm, hello?” Stiles says, pointing to himself, “Not a werewolf.” He scoffs.

I take a mock bow, “My apologies, sir Mundie.” That earns a bit of a chuckle from him, but Isaac and Scott stare at me blankly. “You, know, Mundie? As in mundane…?” still nothing. “Mundane means of this earth….? As opposed to something supernatural…? No, okay never mind.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, this happens to me all the time.” Stiles says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Right,” Isaac says, still somewhat confused. “Anyway, no this isn’t just werewolf hangout time, this is ‘holy shit lacrosse tryouts are in a few days and none of us have held our stick since the season ended’ preparation time.”

“So, we’re doing gong ball.” Scott says as he catches the pass from Isaac, winds up, and launches the ball towards the goal. The ball hits the top left pan, turning it into a loud gong as the ball strikes it and falls into the goal.

“Damn,” Isaac whistles, “well, I guess someone’s keeping their first line-captain status,”

The mention of ‘captain’ makes me shudder. “Speaking of which,” I say, “guess who was pretty much forced to become captain of the girls team today?” I ask unenthusiastically as I kick off my sneakers and pull my white Nike cleats out of my bag and slip them on.

“Same thing happened to me,” Scott says as Isaac kicks over the bucket of lacrosse balls and all three of them scoop one up into their sticks, cradling for a moment before they all line up and begin firing at the gongs, “what is it with lacrosse coaches and blackmail, anyway?”

“No idea,” I sigh as I stand up and grab my stick. I walk over to the pile of balls and scoop it up effortlessly.

“Dude, come on, what is it with the lacrosse captains not wanting to be captains?” Stiles says jokingly.

I cradle the ball in my stick, switching hands quickly as a warm up to shooting. “I just feel like there’d be someone better for it,” I say.

“All it’s ever done is make Jackson hate me even more than he already does.” Scott hits the gong again, as does Isaac. Stiles misses just barely, and lets out a frustrated huff.

“Okay, if you don’t want captain, I’ll totally take captain,” Isaac says.

“Coach Finstock would pick Greenberg over you, Isaac,” Stiles laughs.

Isaac stares off into the distance for a moment, “Yeah,” he says as he tosses Stiles and Scott a new ball, “you’re probably right.”

I line up my shot before I wind back and fire the ball at the bottom left corner. I miss by a good foot. I sigh and look at my stick’s strings. “ s’alright, Ave,” Isaac says, tossing me another ball, “you haven’t shot for a while.”

“Yeah,” I say, though I really should’ve had that shot, no problem. I catch the ball and cradle it in my stick for a few moments, “so both the lacrosse teams are getting new uniforms,” I say with an excited voice, “and they’re awesome.”

“Wait, what color are they?” Scott asks. Scott and Isaac stop what they’re doing and look at me, Stiles winds up behind his back, and hits the bottom right gong. He throws his hands up above his head in triumph. I drop the ball from my stick, reach over and swat his ass with the head of it.

He grabs his butt defensively and I laugh as he rubs it. “Well,” I go on, “the girls are getting blackout uniforms, and they’re beautiful, by the way-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Scott hurries me, “but what about us?”

“You guys are getting camo, you know like soldier’s camo, not like hunting camo, and they’re badass. Finstock is even getting you guys helmets to match, they’re going to be flat black, with camo stripes, and green chrome masks.”

Isaac grabs at his chest as a huge smile passes over his face, “Oh, that’s pure sex,” he says.

“How would you know?” I ask with a laugh as I wind up and slam the ball into the bottom left gong.

I’m so focused on the pan’s ringing that I scarcely notice that Scott and Stiles are laughing along. Isaac narrows his eyes with the tiniest of grins on his face, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Chastings,” he warns.

“You’re right, you’re right,” I say, putting my hands up, “toss me a ball?” I ask sweetly. He leans over and rakes one into his stick.

Just as he’s about to toss it to me, he narrows his eyes and licks his lips. “Hey, Avery,” he says with a tone that says he’s up to something, “you remember freshmen, well it would’ve been your sophomore year, that game where you got trucked by that girl?”

I close my eyes and look down at the ground, “That was the Pikeville game,” I look up and shiver as the memory crosses my mind, “if they scored one more goal, they would have tied it. Coach said let her charge you, and I did.”

“Yeah, yeah, but she literally threw you back a foot,” I know where he’s going with this.

“Isaac, please don’t-” Scott and Stiles look between us in confusion.

“Our game was right after yours, and when you got decked, Coach Finstock started screaming ‘Br-Avery’.” Isaac starts laughing and I feel my cheeks burning.

“And I’ve been trying to get rid that nickname ever since.”

“Oh but I like it,” Isaac teases as he finally tosses me the ball, “it’s got a ring to it.”

“No, it doesn’t. It’s cheesy and cliché. I planted my feet and let her run me over, I got the call, the ref gave me the ball, and we stalled on possession until the clock ran out. Nothing ‘brave’ about it. We were stalling.

“Bravery, bravery, bravery,” Isaac teases.

“I remember that,” Scott snorts, “that was the time when he walked up to Hathaway and asked her why no one was hitting each other.”

Stiles breaks out into a fit of laughter, “She told him to ‘get away from her and her team’ or she’d dump the entire Gatorade cooler on him.”

“I don’t remember that,” I say, looking between the three of them.

“Because you were too busy getting K.O.’d” even I have to laugh at that.

“You bum,” I say when we all quiet down.

Isaac takes a few deep breaths until he finally can breathe normally again. “Hey, Avery,” Stiles says, “can you show me that riser shot that you do?” he asks, biting his thumb.

I nod and scoop up a ball. “I can’t do it sitting still, though, that’s the thing; I have to be moving for it to work.” I hold my stick out in front of me, and sound the whistle in my head. I cradle my stick across my chest once, faking as if I’ll draw out of the shot. I drag the stick back to my right hip, and launch the ball into the top left pan.

“Nice,” Scott says. I shrug.

“Almost as nice as that time your shot ripped through the goalie’s stick to score the game winning goal?” I ask, shaking my head, “You know, looking back, I gotta ask, was that because of the whole…?”

Scott nods, “Yeah, I uh, well, I tried not to get carried away but it didn’t work very well.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

Hours Later…

I stand at the sink, pouring dish soap over the dirty dishes and pans I used to make pancakes this morning. My earphones blast music into my ears as I mouth the words and sway back and forth to the rock song playing on my phone.

Ever since I met Derek, I find myself listening to more and more rock music, maybe it’s just because it makes me feel like I’m closer to him for listening to it, I’m not sure.


I smile to myself and bite my lip as I scrub the last of the pancake batter from the mixing bowl. I pull my phone from my bra and look down at it as I turn away and play “Medicate” by Breaking Benjamin.

Suddenly, I hit something hard and big. I instantly half jump, half fall back, screaming and lashing out as I realize it’s a person.

A big person.

Before I even have time to register a face, their arms wraps itself around my waist, keeping me from falling completely to the ground in a spazzy little mess.

I stop screaming when I realize its Derek.

Both his arms are around me, keeping me up, and his green eyes stare down at me from beneath a furrowed, unhappy looking brow. “You know, most young girls who live alone don’t leave the door unlocked at night and then drown out their surroundings.” My phone fell to the floor when I slipped, and the song plays loudly as I stare up blankly at him.

“Hi.” My eyes are already welling up, which is what happens when I get really scared, really quickly. “I’m really glad it’s you.” I say. I really need to work on my rambling when I’m nervous. My heart is beating frantically from a mixture of emotions. “Please never do that again. Do you always do that?”

“And if I do?”

“Then next time I won’t be so happy it’s you.” His arms are completely steady with my weight, and it seems as if he has no intention of letting me go. “But you lucked out this time because I was just thinking about you.” I say as I reach up and pull him down to me.

We pick up right where we left off last time, intense and hungry. He brings me back up to stand on my own two feet as his tongue dominates mine. Before I know it, he reaches down and lifts me to sit on his hips, and I instinctually wrap my legs around him as he sets me down on the counter.

His hand reaches back and tears the hair tie from my hair, twisting his fingers through my hair before he pulls it back, exposing my neck to him. His other hand runs from my waist down to my ass. He grabs it roughly, and I gasp loudly as his lips and tongue play at my neck, and his hands squeeze and pull with just the right amount of pressure.

I push his leather jacket off his shoulders, forcing him to break contact from me with his hands, but his lips, God, his lips don’t stop. I let out a moan when he nips at the junction of my shoulder.

“Derek,” I breathe as my hands hold him to my neck.

He breaks his contact with my skin, coming up to my ear, “I like the way you say my name,” he growls as his hand travels further up my leg, “do it again.”

His thumb brushes over my inner thigh so lightly as he thrusts against me, forcing another moan from me. His other hand pulls my hair back again, and he thrusts against me once more, this time he gets the result he wants, “Derek,” I say, pulling at his shirt in some effort to gain stability.

All I get is a low rumble of a chuckle the makes me feel like melting. The music plays on as Derek’s hands wander under my shirt.

I got somethin' up my sleeve

I know you will cover me

Inside out and in between

I know you will cover me

I've got bruises on my knees

I know you will cover me

Inside out and in between

And I know you will cover me


Run away

Make hate

And get laid

And get laid

You tie me up

I've had enough

So medicate



I'm already incomplete

I know you will cover me

Looking by your empathy

I know you will cover me

I've been lyin' here for weeks

I know you will cover me

Inside out and in between

And I know you will cover me

Chapter Text


Derek’s hands slip under my shirt as his teeth nip at my neck. “Derek,” I manage to spit out in between breaths, “Derek, stop,” his fingers find the back of my bra and his lips continue their work on my shoulder.

“Derek,” I put my hands on his chest and push back, forcing him to break contact with my skin. He looks down at me in part confusion, part in annoyance. For a few moments, I revel in the power I have over him as I push him further back from me and climb off the counter.

I walk backwards down the hallway, keeping eye contact with him. My poker face breaks and I bite my lip to try to stop the smile that’s quickly taking over. Derek’s mouth shapes the smallest of smirks as he begins walking toward me. “I’m not having sex on the kitchen counter,” I turn the corner of the stairs and continue walking backwards up them.

In the blink of an eye, Derek is on the stairs before me, and next thing I know, I’m laying with my back against the stairs with Derek leaning over me. I close my eyes as he leans down, his breath ghosting over my lips. I breathe in his breath and his hands lift my legs unto his lower back.

The denim of his jeans presses down into my core, and I instinctively press against him. A growl comes from his throat, and I gasp as he grinds into me, pressing something hard against my core, and repeats the motion again and again until the only breaths I can manage are gasps and my legs are quivering.

His hands once again slip under my shirt, but this time I don’t stop him. Instead, I lean forward, allowing him to slip it over my head. I keep my eyes closed as Derek’s lips make their way from my collarbone to the tops of my breasts, nipping and sucking as he goes.

I bite my lip and claw at his shirt. He leans back and pulls it over his head, and I stare at the too-perfect-to-be-true set of six pack abs in front of me. He catches my stare and lets out a low chuckle as he comes back down to lean over me.

“We can’t do this on the stairs, either,” I manage to say before he makes some crack about me practically drooling. He growls into my neck and the heat of his breath alone makes me bite my lip in an attempt to stay quiet.

“You’re taking all the fun out of this,” he says jokingly as he lifts me up and begins climbing up the stairs with me basically sitting on him. I feel unsure about it for a moment, but his steadiness put me at ease.

I lace my fingers through his spiked hair, “So, you’re telling me you’re not having any fun right now?” I lean into his neck and smile as I bite his shoulder and grind my hips against him. He responds by gripping my ass tightly.

When he speaks, his voice is barely more than a growl, “Not at all,” he lays me down on something soft and I suddenly realize we’re already in my darkened room, and already on my bed.

I lick my lips and let out a short giggle as he kisses his way down my stomach. “Me neither,” I say as his fingers hook themselves under my shorts and pull them down quickly. I mentally applaud myself for wearing a pair of cute white underwear with a lace border.

He slips his fingers under the lace and he looks at me with a smirk and a dark gleam in his eyes. His hands wrap themselves under my elbows and pull me forward then, lifting me so that I’m sitting on one of his legs. “Still not having fun?” he asks, his lips barely touching mine as his hands reach up underneath my sports bra.

“No,” I answer in a quick, breathless voice, “you?” his hands pull up at the fabric and I put my arms over my head as he slips the bra off and lets it fall between us. He stares for a moment, and I feel suddenly insecure.

“Maybe a little,” he says as his arm slips behind my back and pulls me higher up on his leg, bringing me closer to him as his head dips low, and he takes one of my nipples into his hot mouth. The sensation of his tongue alone is enough to force a moan from me, his teeth are just a bonus.

Absentmindedly, my hips rock back and forth against his leg, feeding the maddening throb. With his other hand, he paws at my breast with just the right amount of roughness.

His mouth releases my nipple and he chuckles, sending hot breath across my skin. I suddenly notice that my fingers laced themselves through his hair again, keeping him pulled tightly to me. I loosen my grip as a blush comes to my cheeks, only partially from embarrassment.

He gives me a quick, forceful kiss before leaning back down and rolling my other nipple between his teeth. “Derek,” I say, licking my lips and folding my arm around his neck. My hips keep moving on their own, and Derek’s hand slides under my underwear, squeezing my ass.

I use my hips to push back towards the bed, and pull him down with me.

My hands fumble around his belt as his mouth finds mine. I struggle to focus as his tongue slips into my mouth, filling it with his taste. He leans back up and hastily pulls his belt off and throws it on the floor. He pulls something small from his pocket and tosses it beside me on the bed.

As he stands up off the bed and undoes his zipper and kicks his boots off, I pick up the thing he threw on the bed. I hold the thin square in my hand and realize it’s a condom wrapper.

I look over just as Derek’s jeans drop. My eyes widen and my mouth drops. My reaction doesn’t go unnoticed.

I really shouldn’t be surprised that he’s big. Like, really big.

I’ve only seen pictures from like health books and the internet- I mean, everyone does, right?

But damn.

A dark chuckle breaks my thoughts as his hands encircle my ankles and drag me down the bed towards him. I can’t help a smile as he climbs over me and kisses me deeply as he takes the condom from my hand. I hear the wrapper tear, but I’m too enthralled by his body, his taste, his smell, to care.

His hand wanders between my legs, and his fingers rub circles into my core through the lace, forcing me to moan into the kiss. The fabric is slick and warm.

Derek breaks the kiss and leans back, he hooks a finger inside of the lace and just barely touches the spot where I need him most. I let out a frustrated sigh and my head falls back against the bed. He does that low chuckle again as his mouth traces over my stomach.

“Having fun yet?” he asks mockingly against my skin.

“Not quite,” I whimper as his finger teases at my entrance, my hips arch to him in desperation. He slips another finger under the lace and pulls it slowly down my legs.

I close my eyes and bite my lip as he pulls my legs once again around his hips and settles over me.

With one thrust, the aching throb turns to a screeching pain. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and clamp my lips together as he thrusts in again and again, and I feel like I’m being ripped apart.

Tori, who has made several boyfriends over the years, told me once that the first time doesn’t even hurt.

Tori is a dirty rotten liar.

I dig my nails into his back and his teeth clamp onto my collar bone. I try to focus on that pain instead, but it’s hard. His pace is fast and rough, and it feels like forever before the pain starts to fade, and as it does, it’s replaced by a heat that spreads through me with each time his hips smash against mine, pounding into me over and over again.

What started out as gasps and whimpers turns to near screams as my eyes practically roll back in my head. I dig my nails out of his shoulder blades and wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down closer to me, if only to have a hold on something.

His teeth move from my collar bone to my neck, and as his canines dig in, I let out a final, loud scream as my body shakes and the world around me dissolves. He thrusts into me a few more times before letting out a pleasured growl and claims my lips as his body goes still.

I’m all but lost to the world, and even when he rolls off to the side, I still can’t seem to catch my breath. I squeeze my legs together as they fall against the bed. I reach up and run my hands through my hair as I try to calm myself. “Well,” I say breathlessly as I try to sound purposefully nonchalant, “I had fun.”

I look over to Derek and find him staring back at me with his mouth slightly open, his breathing just as heavy as mine. I smile widely as I lace my leg across both of his and kiss him as well as I can manage, being that I’m still shaking.

The sheets are a twisted mess around us, but that hardly matters. His muscled arm wraps around my waist again and I pull back for air. I lay my forehead on his chest before I lay my head against him.

I close my eyes, I listen to his heartbeat quickly in his chest. I listen as it slows, and the sound makes me drift off to sleep with his arm still around me.

Chapter Text


I'm not sure whether it was the light or the pain that woke me up, maybe it was both. I can feel Derek's arm under my neck, though I don't feel the heat of his chest, which means he must be lying flat on his back.

For a moment, I lay completely still, wondering if he's awake. When I feel confident that he isn't, I try to push myself up, only to have a stabbing pain cut through me. And what's worse, Derek isn't asleep.

He's just staring at me, "I was wondering when you'd wake up." He says, almost regretfully.

I push myself up as smoothly as I can manage, and sit on the edge of my bed. I spot one of my shirts on the floor and thank God that I've never been able to keep my room clean. I pick it up and slip it over my head. I suddenly become aware of a misplaced warmth between my legs, and my face grows hot in embarrassment.

"Were you even going to tell me?" he asks. My entire body is rigid, both in pain and fear.

"Tell you what?" I ask with a smile as I look back at him.

He looks at me with an unyielding stare, "I can smell the blood, Avery," I bite my lip and look away.

"I didn't think it was important," I squeeze my eyes closed and clamp my lips together, the pain is getting worse.

"How's that not important?"

My head is spinning, and suddenly the room is really hot. I push myself off of the bed and practically collapse from the pain that the simple motion makes. I recover and take a few deep breaths as I force myself across the room to the bathroom. "Avery!" Derek calls after me as he tosses the sheets aside and follows me.

I step into the bathroom and close the door behind me. I can feel the sweat collect on my forehead, why is it so damn hot in here? And why is it hurting now? I thought it stopped last night…?

Plus, I should've healed by now.

So why haven't I?


I lock the door, "Just give me a couple minutes, please," I practically beg. He doesn't respond, but I can sense he's not at the door anymore, and I can hear his steps walk back towards the bed before they drift down the hall.

I force myself towards the shower and toss off my shirt before stepping in. I sit under the cold water as it begins to turn warmer, I take deep breaths ad relax, waiting for the healing to kick in, God why hasn't it healed yet, anyway?

Slowly, the pain fades, and the stream of red does the same.

My head stops spinning, and I take a relieved breath, but then I remember that there's still Derek to deal with.

How do I deal with that, anyway? What do I say?

I stand up and wash my hair as quickly as I can manage. When I finally get out of the shower, I've calmed down significantly thanks to the werewolf healing that took its sweet ass time to work today, and I have a pretty good line to use, if this conversation goes how I think it will.

I get out of the shower and quickly make my way out of the bathroom into my room and over to my dresser. I pull on a plain black pair of underwear, black shorts, and a Maryland t-shirt. I don't bother with a bra since putting a sports bra on after a shower is a struggle in itself, and what's the point? He's already seen me naked anyway.

I turn towards the bed and see the blood stain on the yellow sheets. I toss the pillows off the bed and tear the sheets off of the mattress and onto the floor. I gather them all up and make my way downstairs to the laundry room.

As I reach the laundry room, I get more nervous about what I'm going to tell him, and I forget the line I'd come up with. I drop the bundle of bedding into the washing machine but hold off on turning it on.

I walk toward the living room and find Derek sit back on the couch. His hands rub his face as if he's tired.

For a moment, I wonder if it was really such a good idea to lose my virginity to a man, whose age I didn't even know, and who, other than him being an alpha werewolf and a good person, I still knew nothing about.

But as I look at him, a feeling of guilt spreads through me, but it's not my guilt. It's his.

He's afraid that he hurt me.

I bite my lip and hold in a small laugh.

My mother threw me out for some dumb reason I don't even remember, my father moved to the other side of the world when I was a kid and only visited when I was on my deathbed, and my ex-boyfriend was probably the one who left me to die in a car accident and then dropped off the grid. And none of them feel guilty. At all. Or at least they don't show it.

And then here's Derek.

The big alpha werewolf badass who is currently blaming himself for something that he couldn't have possibly even known about.

Which makes him probably the one person who actually cares. And when I had no one else to call...? He answered:

" Anytime."

He saved me from dying in a hospital bed and had been one of the few people who have genuinely had me back this whole time.

In all rationality, I probably shouldn't be relieved that he feels bad, but I am.


I sit down on the couch and rub my forehead with my hands. I finally get her alone, and I rip her apart.


I was so damn caught up in it I hadn't even paid attention to her. Last night was about me fulfilling some stupid fantasy I had ever since those damn dreams started.

But I didn't mean to-

All I had to do was pay attention for a moment, and maybe I could've figured it out, but no. Why the hell didn't she just say something-

I feel the air shift around me, and all of a sudden notice Avery walking towards my spot on the couch. "Avery, I-" I make a move to get up, but she holds out her hand, as if telling me to stay where I am. "Are you okay?" I ask as she comes to stand right in front of me.

Her eyes are soft and she stares down at me for a moment before her hands come to either side of my head, "Yeah," she whispers, "I healed," a small smile crosses her face for a moment, before she leans down and places a light kiss on my lips.

I stare up at her in confusion as she leans back out and bites her lip with a smile pulling at her mouth, "Want some breakfast?" she asks.


"I don't get it, wasn't he supposed to be here by now?" Boyd asks from his spot sitting on the station steps.

I sigh and look over at Erica, who is filing her nails again. "I called him, his phone is off."

Boyd looks over at me, "And what about Avery?"

"She didn't answer." I say, a thought suddenly crossing my mind. There's always that tension you can feel when kids from school like each other, and there was definitely something weird going on between them the other day in the car but…Would Derek really…?

"You know what?" I say, snapping out of my thoughts, "Let's just get started," I walk over to the massive stone pillar that is still intact, "Boyd you're up first."

Boyd comes around and I use the chains to lock him around the pillar. "Alright, now remember; just think of something that keeps you calm."

Boyd nods and takes a deep breath as he leans his head back against the stone. I bring out my claws and take a breath as I reach out to rake them across Boyd's chest, only deep enough to get him angry.

But just before I make contact, I stop. Boyd looks at me with confusion, but also with relief. I step back and look between Erica and him. "You guys just wanna go to IHop instead? Maybe do some school shopping? We go back this week, ya know."

Erica rolls her eyes and Boyd laughs.


"Right, so, it's nice to finally be spending time with you again," Stiles says as he puts the Jeep in park, "I mean you've pretty much ignored me all summer to hang out with Allison so it's nice to finally-"

"Stiles, you're rambling," I say as I look out the window towards the house.

"I just- last time we went to Avery's to have some kind of werewolf intervention, which, by the way, went very poorly, and now? Now we're staking out Jackson Whittemore's house."

I look over to Stiles, who's looking at me with his mouth open and eyes wide, "So?" I ask.

"Sooooo can't we just hang out for once? Sans dangerous supernatural and overall unpleasant stuff?" I open my mouth to respond, but something slams against the glass on my side.

I look over to see Jackson looking in with an annoyed face. Stiles quickly rolls down the window and Jackson leans in, "You know, if you guys wanted to do a stakeout, you really should invest in something besides a big blue piece of junk on wheels."

I look over at Stiles, "Hey man, this is my baby," he says as he rubs the steering wheel.

"Yeah?" Jackson scoffs, "Well, your 'baby', could use a tune up." He says with acid in his voice.

"So could you." My eyes turn gold, and Jackson steps back reflexively. His jaw goes rigid and he runs his tongue over his lips.

"What do you guys want?" he asks in a serious voice.

"We're just here to make sure you're okay." Jackson looks away briefly.

"Derek bit me forever ago, why am I just now changing?" He asks in confusion. "Like shouldn't I have turned by now? Why is it just now happening?"

"We don't," Stiles starts, "We don't really know," Jackson closes his eyes and sighs, "but does it really matter? You've just gotta focus on staying human now."

"Yeah man, you scared the crap out of Lydia," I say. Stiles' leg comes across and slams into my ankle, I do my best not to react.

Jackson's eyes go wide, "Fuck," he says, "is she alright?" he asks.

"Yeah, yeah!" Stiles says too quickly, "She's absolutely fine." Jackson's face is relieved. Stiles fumbles with the steering wheel nervously, "Well, actually," Jackson looks at Stiles questioningly, "she was pretty torn up about the whole 'my boyfriend is a werewolf' kinda thing. I believe her words were 'I'm not sure I can look at him the same way. Ever. Ever.'" Stiles gives him a fake pity smile.

Jackson narrows his eyes and walks away from the car. I look over at him and whisper, "Dude, what the hell?" he just shrugs and turns the engine on.


I watch as Avery pours the cup of water into the pancake mixes and begins stirring it happily. "Sorry, but pancakes is all I know how to make, really." She says with a smile.

She makes no sense. At all.

The only feelings she's giving off are ones of calmness and happiness. And that makes no sense, either.

She catches me staring and her smiles fades slowly, though her good mood stays, "I'm sorry," she says, "I should've told you, I know. I don't really know why I didn't, honestly." She keeps her eyes on the bowl, "but it wasn't your fault."

"I wouldn't have been so rough with you if I knew-"

She looks up at me again from across the counter with a gleam in her eye, "I know," a smile crosses her face as she looks back down at the bowl and keeps stirring, "but, I mean after the beginning, I kinda liked it." She says as if it's a dark secret.

She laughs at herself, I can't help but laugh at her, too. "I, um, I actually had this pretty good line prepared," she says, "wanna hear it?" She looks at me, waiting for an answer. I smile a bit, which urges her on, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was a virgin," she says, her voice anxious for the next line, "it'll never happen again." she looks at me with a wide smile and laughs from nerves and humor.

I laugh a little but bury my face in my hands, "That's a terrible joke," I say.

"It is not!" she says, "Besides, if it's 'terrible', then why are you laughing?" This girl could make a gargoyle smile.

"Has anyone ever told you that you make absolutely no sense?" I ask, she looks up and shrugs.

Chapter Text


"Man why is it always so hard to find an open spot?" I mutter to myself as I slowly pull through the high school parking lot, making sure to avoid people as they filter in towards the main entrance.

I finally find an empty spot and pull in. I grab my backpack, lacrosse bag, and stick before jumping out and taking a deep breath. Another year full of stress, homework, and werewolf crap.

As I walk through the lot between a terribly parked big ass red Hummer-

I stop and turn back towards the car and through the driver side window I can see Avery inside just staring at the school with a blank expression. I walk over and tap the glass.

She jumps, looks at me and then smiles before opening the door and getting out. "Hey, you okay?" I ask as she walks to the back and grabs her backpack. Her skinny jeans are ripped around the knees and her white tank top clings tightly to her body with an oversized light red flannel shirt on top. Her long brown hair is in a messy side braid and her brown boots are scuffed all over.

"Yeah I was just thinking," she says as she leans in the backseat and pulls out her lacrosse bag and slings it over her other shoulder before grabbing her stick. She shuts the door and looks at the school again before smiling at me, "Walk in with me?"

I nod, "Sure," we both turn and walk through the lot, I can't help but notice she's looking all around her nervously, "Something wrong?" I ask.

"Everyone's already talking about me," I look around and notice a lot of people giving us quick glances and then turning away and talking to their friends.

"Hey, Avery y'know you really shouldn't-"

"It's okay, I'm fine, really," she smiles widely in an attempt to convince me, "I just have to make it through and they'll all get bored eventually." I give her a small nod and she sighs as she looks again towards the door.

"So…." I begin, "how are things with Derek?" her head snaps toward me with wide eyes.

"What?" she asks, clearing her throat.

"Umm Derek? Like 'alpha werewolf extraordinaire' Derek?" I whisper. She smiles again.

"Yeah, uh things are good, I guess. He's teaching us…stuff."

"Any news on the other alpha?" She shakes her head.

"Nothing since the full moon. Derek's getting frustrated about it, we all are." She says as she pushes the front door open and holds the door open for me to follow. "I don't know if I ever got a chance to tell you this, but he was there- at the crash." I nearly stumble over myself at that and Avery grabs my arm to keep me up.

"What?" I ask too loudly. All the students in the hall look over at us and we both smile at them awkwardly. As soon as they turn away I look back at her, "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly that; I remember him coming up to the car," we keep walking and find a corner of the hallway to stand in, "well, I didn't see him, I only saw his eyes."

I shake my head, "Why didn't he just kill you?" She shrugs.

"I remember the sound of people approaching, maybe that scared him off, besides it's not like he knew Derek would change me anyway." I nod.

"You haven't remembered anything else about that night though?"

The gleam of her eyes seems to dull a bit as she looks down at the floor, "No," she bites her lip and looks back up, "I keep remembering pointless stuff, Derek says it might take some time, but it's already been so long already…" she shakes her head, "I have to drop my stuff off in the locker room,"

"Yeah," I say, turning out of the corner and nodding in the direction of the locker rooms, "mind if I come along?" she smiles at that and follows my lead.

"Thanks, Stiles."


"Whoa, watch out Erica!" Isaac says from beside me as I put some of my make up in my new locker, "Here she comes!" I look at him and he nods down the hall, I follow his gaze and see Avery and Stiles walking down the hall smiling.

I smack his arm and he laughs. As the two get closer he calls out, "Hey, Stiles!" Stiles puts a hand up and smiles, "Hey, bravery!" he laughs.

As she walks by, Avery pokes the end of her stick on the back of Isaac's knee, causing his leg to fold up and him to stumble forward. He quickly recovers and looks over at her as she walks backwards down the hall to retain eye contact with him, "I told you not to start something you couldn't finish, Chastings!"

She laughs and opens her arms wide open, "Game on Lahey!" she calls back.

I slam my locker and begin walking away down the opposite hallway, a few moments later, Isaac is beside me, "You're going to have to get over whatever it is that's bothering you with her, you know that right?"

"Everyone loves her," I mumble, "so what if one single person doesn't?" I grip the strap of my messenger bag tightly.

"First off, not everyone loves her, you're being dramatic, second off being mad at someone simply for them being who they are is stupid, the one who loses in that is you. I'm not saying you have to be best friends, but you're going to have to be on speaking terms,"

I turn towards the bathroom and stand in the doorway, "I'm working on it, okay? I didn't even give her a dirty look today." I say as I back into the door and step inside.


"This is ridiculous," I say to Allison as she tucks books into her locker, "first day back and all anyone is talking about is Avery and that new guy."

"New guy?" Allison asks, "What new guy?"

My jaw practically hits the jaw, "Umm, the new guy."

Allison nods, "Yeah that really cleared things up."

"I'm going to skip the lecture on the importance of being in-the-loop and get right to it. The new guy is Luke Phillips, a senior football quarterback who just moved here from Texas and he's gorgeous. He's apparently amazing, committed to some great football program somewhere down south."

Allison lets out a dry huff, "Well then I hope he's ready to get sacked every other play because the football here-"

"Trust me, I know. Though I've heard he's also a really great runner, so maybe he'll be able to do something with our lousy team, hmm? Anyway, every girl in the school is going to be all over him."

Allison narrows her eyes at me, "You're not…?" she trails off with a suspicious look in her eye.

I shrug and rub my lips together, evening out the lip gloss I'd no doubt have to touch up in a few minutes. "Maybe," Allison turns fully towards me, ignoring her open locker.

"Lydia, you haven't even talked to Jackson yet," I look away and watch the people pass by down the hall.

"I know," my eyes glaze over for a moment and I see Jackson with the teeth and the eyes- "it's just easier not to, okay?" I look back up to her to see her staring at me with worried brown eyes. "I'll talk to him, I'm just not ready yet." I look away from her as she nods.

My jaw nearly drops, "So speaking of Luke Phillips," I say just before the homeroom bell rings out through the halls.


I lean back against my desk seat and take a deep breath as I look around at my peers. A lot of them I know, but there are none I really care to talk to. I've just got to make it through the first day and the rest will just float by.

At least I hope so.

I try to drown the whispers out, but it's hard. I can hear my name everywhere. It's maddening, really, but I focus on the sound of my homeroom teacher's voice as he begins talking about the usual first day garbage.

Just one year and this'll be over, just one school year, that's it.

The bell rings suddenly, and I look to the clock in confusion. Low and behold, half an hour passed like five minutes. I might just survive this.

As I stand up and grab my backpack thunder grumbles from outside. I look over at the window to see a storm brewing outside. "Damn it," I say, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I guess its indoor practice today.

Sheriff Stilinski

"Hey Kelly," I say as I walk up to her desk, "is he….?" I ask.

She looks up and points toward my office, "Right in there, just waiting for you to get in."

"Thanks," I say, already moving away towards my doors. With a quick flick of my wrist I turn the nob and step inside. I look over at the boy sitting in front of my desk as he turns to face me. "You've been difficult to find," I say, walking around my desk and taking my seat.

"Yeah, I uh, I was on vacation-"

"So I heard," I say, cutting him off, "listen Jake, why don't we just get right down to it, where were you the night of Avery Chasting's crash?" his eyes stare back at mine without wavering.


I sit down in my first period class and proceed to text Isaac while I try to hide my phone under my desk.

"So how's ur schedule so far?" he asks.

"Mehh" I respond before writing another text, "Hbu?"

"Just waiting till after school for tryouts, you coming to watch?" he asks.

" No. Lacrosse is stupid and it's pouring out."

"It's not THAT stupid and it's indoor anyway." He texts back.

" Still not coming."

"Your loss ;)" he responds.

" Not really, what time do we have 2 b at the station 2day?"

" Like 4ish, doubt I'll make it. Coach always holds us over."

" Derek's gonna kick your ass." I hold in a laugh. I look around the room and see that a couple people are looking at me but the teacher is so busy reciting the first semester lesson plan that she hasn't even noticed my texting.

" Well he'd have to kick Ave's ass too, so I think I'm safe."

"If you say so." I tuck my phone back into my pocket and force myself to pay attention as my teacher drones on about the syllabus.


I rip up a floorboard and toss it aside before reaching over and placing a new board in its place. I reach over and grab my nail gun and line up the nails with the foundation.

It'll be years before the house is even half done at the rate I'm going, but with all the distractions lately I guess it's all I can expect.

Even now, in the complete silence of my old charred basement, I feel like I'm still distracted. By a lot of things.

The alpha who seems to just take pleasure in running around my territory along with a new beta, the old hunter Gerard being back in town, Jackson's sudden shift, Boyd, Erica, and Avery not being able to fully control themselves still, and….Avery in general.

I pull the trigger of the nail gun and the nail shoots through the wood and holds the board steady. I shoot three more nails in the board before stepping on it and testing how it holds my weight.

The other night was…not something I can explain.

Thinking about it mostly just pisses me off…I lost control. I lost control and that can't happen. It hasn't happened in years and it can't happen again.

I try to refocus as I line another board up on the foundation and line up the nail gun.


I grab my bag and stand up from my desk as Lola, our team's goalie, comes over to me after Anatomy class, "Hey, Ave," she says with a smile, "you heading to lunch?" she asks. I look down at my schedule and nod.

"Yeah, you?"

"Yep," she answers as we begin walking out together, "so are you ready for tryouts today then?"

"Hmm… if by 'tryouts' you mean 'non-stop sprints until coach weeds out the weak', then no, not really. We don't even do anything with our sticks for the first hour." Lola gets a smile on her face.

"Actually, I heard it might be different this year. There are these freshmen coming in that are supposed to be amazing. She doesn't have time this year to run us to death, she's got to figure out who's Varsity material." I just shrug and bite my lip.

"Don't doubt her, Lola; the woman is crazy."

Jake Reily

"I told you, I'm not answering anything without my lawyer." I say as I try to relax.

Sheriff Stilinski narrows his eyes at me, "Then why come down here at all, Jake?"

"My father told me the police wanted to talk to me, so here I am."

"Yes, here you are, being as useless as ever." He mutters.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask.

"I think you were driving the car that night, I think you crashed it and covered it up. There was another blood type found in the car, I'm willing to bet that it's yours, too." The door opens behind me and Jackson's father steps in.

"Sheriff Stilinski," he says, he looks down and me and nods, "Jake won't be answering any more questions today, thank you, and I'd prefer it if you notify me when you're questioning one of my clients."

"I wasn't aware he was one of your clients," Sheriff Stilinski says, looking between us suspiciously, "Jake here hasn't answered a single one of them anyway. But what would a supposedly innocent eighteen-year-old need with a defense attorney?"

My heart falls into my stomach and I feel myself begin shaking. "C'mon, Jake," Mr. Whittemore says as he ushers me out, "your parents are waiting for you."

I reach up to run my hand through my hair and stare at the claws at my fingertips. I quickly shove my hands into my pockets and face Mr. Whittemore as we step out of the police station. The rain pours down on the sidewalk as we stand under the awning. "I'll work on coming up with a logical reason for your blood to be found in the car." He whispers, "In the meantime, Jake? Try to practice not looking so obviously guilty." He pats my shoulder and walks away, leaving me on the steps of the station.

Chapter Text


Alright, I've made it through six of seven classes, just one more left, and its journalism, so it can't be that bad. I just have to ignore the whispers just a little longer.

I walk into class and quickly find a seat, hopefully we can just get this thing rolling. As soon as the bell rings, the journalism teacher stands up from behind his desk. "Alright guys, welcome to journalism. First things first, in this class, we get things done. We have deadlines just as any newspaper does."

Oh great, he thinks we're going to actually get things done today, doesn't he?

"A lot of the people in this class have taken it before, so I'm counting on you all to help our newbies into our system. Right now what we're going to do is make a big circle with our desks and brainstorm story ideas for the five sections: Sports, Entertainment, Opinions, Features, and News. So," he motions for us all to turn our desks, "get to it."

A chorus of screeching breaks out as we all turn the desks around, I try to hide the pain I get from the sound. I've never really noticed the enhanced hearing until today, but I guess it makes sense since there's so many people in a small space.

"Hi guys," a girl says as she stands up, "I'm Livy, I'm this year's chief editor," I pretty much zone out when I look over at the window and see that the rain still hasn't let up. "And I just really hope we all have fun while making the paper. So, with that being said, take like five minutes and try to come up with like three things for each section."

I take out a piece of paper and write down the title of the sections. And then I just sit and stare down at the page. Next thing I know, we're going over what we have written down, "Okay, so what did you guys put down for News?"

Across the room to the right, I hear two girls whispering to each other, "Say it," the one says to the other with a giggle.

"Fine," the one says with a small smile on her face as she raises her hand. Livy smiles and looks over at the girl, "I was thinking we could do a piece on teenage drunk driving," the girl looks right over at me, "I mean, it kind of is a local story in a way, maybe we could interview you for it, Avery."

I stare over at the girl as every single face looks to me, "Or," I say without thinking to say anything, "we could do a piece about basic white girls," I say, motioning my head towards the starbucks cups, iphones, and crop tops, "who don't know how to mind their own business and keep their mouths shut."

I can feel a low rumble under my voice, though I doubt they can. My hands tremble a bit, and I can feel my nails changing. I stand up and walk out of the class, and I can feel everyone's eyes watching me as I go. I've never really been a confrontational person, maybe that's why it was surprising to them all. Or maybe they just didn't know how to respond to that, it kind of would be awkward just to carry on like 'Okay, everyone! That's progress, but how about something a little less….catty? Hmm?'

I walk to the bathroom and step inside. Erica looks up at me from her spot sitting on one of the sinks. She for once doesn't give me a dirty look but I pass it off as her not immediately recognizing me.

I back out of the bathroom, and I keep walking. I look into a silent room and peek inside. Finding no one, I step inside and close the door behind me. I turn off the lights and then have a seat at one of the first desks in the front of the room.

For a while I just sit there in the darkened room, watching and listening to the rain as I try to drown out the whispers coming from everywhere; a couple girls gossiping, a teacher droning on about biology, and the sound of footsteps echoing through the halls.

Normally listening to the rain calms me, makes me feel better somehow. But right now all I can think of is those two twits and wishing I could go back in that room and dump the cups of starbucks all over those girls' heads. Then maybe drag them out by their hair and throw them out in the rain for a shower.

I sit back and try to relax; it's not me wanting to do those things, but they're definitely tempting nonetheless.

My pulse isn't slowing and my skin feels hot. I sit back in my seat and close my eyes. That doesn't help either.

I pick up my phone and scroll through the contacts until I find Derek. I tap his name and almost push the dial button but I stop myself. I know he said 'Anytime' and all that, but I have to start dealing with this myself eventually. Might as well start today.

I put my phone down on the desk and try to calm myself. I look down at my hands and stare at my claws as they drag slowly over the desk top. Footsteps stop outside the door and pause for a moment.

I can hear the heartbeat clear as day. I listen as the nob turns slowly and Erica steps inside, closing the door behind her. "Your eyes are showing." She says in a quiet, flat voice as she steps further into the room and leans against the teacher's desk.

I just stare back at her, but my claws reflexively dig into the desk's smooth surface, leaving long, ugly marks. Erica's eyes drop to my hands and then she looks out the window for a moment as she runs her tongue along the inside of her mouth.

"I use Christmas music," she mumbles.

"What?" I ask in a quiet voice that holds a foreign, dark tone.

Erica rolls her head back towards me, "When I get angry," she says, crossing her arms and shrugging, "I listen to Christmas music. You can't wolf out while listening to 'Frosty the Snowman'."

"Yeah," I say with a quiet laugh, "that would be kinda hard." I look down at my hands and my claws slowly shift back into my nails.

"So what happened?" she asks with little interest, "What set you off?"

I shrug and bring my hands up my arms and rub them in an attempt to keep myself calm at the thought of those snickering girls. "Umm," I clear my throat, "these girls who were making a joke about my accident."

Erica doesn't say anything, she just turns her head and stares out the window once more. "I didn't really handle it that well," I mumble mostly to myself.

"You had the sense to get out of there." Erica shrugs a bit as she watches the rain fall. "You know that you're not allowed to participate in after school activities if you are late or absent from any class, right?" she asks in a mocking voice.

"For someone who never listens to the rules," I begin as I smile, "you sure do know them well."

She looks back at me with a plain face, "You gotta know the rules to break them."

"Yeah, well you might want to avoid the principal's office now. Allison's grandfather is the new one." Erica nods.

"Thanks for the tip." She says as she pushes herself off the desk and heads toward the door, "Oh and try not to wolf out during practice, Derek isn't so cute when he's angry." And with that, she walks out and lets the door shut behind her.

The bell for dismissal rings and I stand up to force myself back to the classroom, if only to get my backpack and leave before the teacher can say anything.

The girls in the locker room all buzz around in excitement as they move their lacrosse gear into their lockers. The room gets deathly quiet when Coach Hathaway steps into the room. "Alright ladies," she says as her eyes cut through the room, "outdoor practice today." All eyes instantly turn to the window.

The rain has been pouring since this morning, and it doesn't look like it's slowing down any time soon. Lola and I make eye contact and I shrug as if to say 'told ya she was crazy'.

"The weather isn't always going to cooperate with you during games." she explains. "You have to be able to play under all circumstances." I look around the locker room and hold back from smiling at the well hidden horror in their faces.

I can hear hearts beating nervously and frantically. It's weird and alarming but at the same time I like knowing how people around me are feeling; it's enlightening in a way.

"Get dressed and be on the field ready to warm up in ten minutes." Hathaway says as she turns away and heads back into her office.

I turn back to my locker and grab my lacrosse bag and sift through it as I try to find my stuff. I dig out my shorts, spandex, socks, cleats, and pinnie. My heart drops. Where the hell is my sports bra? I know I packed it in my bag this morning, I know it.

And yet, it's not here.

"Shit," I mumble. Cassie looks over at me from her spot standing at her locker next to mine.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"I can't find my sports bra," I say, tossing my bag back into my locker and then grabbing my keys from my backpack, "It must've fallen out of my bag in my car, I'll be right back." I say as I close my locker and turn to start running out.

"Hurry up!" Cassie calls after me. I weave through girls and then take off running down the halls. As soon as I make it outside I hesitate under the extended roofing when I remember it's pouring out. I make something like a pained whine before dashing out into the cold rain and press the unlock button on the hummer remote.

In what seems like moments I'm completely drenched. When I make it to my car I throw open the backseat door and find the black sports bra on the floor of my car. I grab it and stuff it under my shirt in an attempt to protect it against the rain.

I slam my car door shut and take off running again, but this time it takes me only seconds to make it across the parking lot. I can feel myself moving faster than normal and make a note to not let it happen in practice.

I make it back to the locker room just as the horde of girls all begin making their way out to the field. Finding myself alone in the place, I quickly peel off my wet and clingy clothes before tossing them into my locker and reaching for my practice gear.

I decide there's no reason to go to the bathroom stall to change my bra so I just unhook the back and slip my sports bra on real quick. Putting my spandex on is a bit of a struggle since my legs are wet and cold but I get them on and pull my red practice shorts over them.

I pull my semi-wet hair back into a ponytail and toss my pinnie over my head before I reach down and slide my mid-calf socks and cleats on. I grab my bag and stick as I slam my locker shut and take off after my team.

A Few Hours Later


"Where the hell is she?" I ask Isaac, who shrugs and holds up his phone.

"She's not answering my texts, she's probably still at practice, I told you; Hathaway is insane. Everyone knows it!" I turn back to the train tunnel as I hear Erica and Boyd approaching. I look down at my watch as they both come to a dead stop in front of me.

"Too slow," I say as they both suck in air and roll their eyes, "go again." In another moment, I reset my watch and the two of them take off again down the tunnels. I turn back to Isaac, "Tell me again why you're here then?"

"Because, the boys team had tryouts in the gym, but the other sports had tryouts too, so we had to give up the gym so that softball could get in." Isaac turns around and looks up the staircase to the water flowing down over the steps. "Christ, is it still raining?!" he asks in frustration as he once again tries calling Avery's phone.

A car engine alerts us both and a few minutes later, the engine cuts off in front of the station entrance.

We stare up at the steps and Avery comes into view as she slowly descends the steps. "Umm, Avery, you okay?" Isaac asks as he comes to stand at the bottom of the steps.

She's soaked through and through, the pinnie that would normally hang loose is stuck to her skin, same with her shorts. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail that's falling out, frizzed, and tangled. She leans heavily on the railing as she walks.

"Yeah," she says with a hiss through her teeth as she takes an unsteady step down, "Hathaway decided to murder us, that's all." She stops all of a sudden and grabs at her knee as her face twists in pain.

"You're soaking," Isaac says as he walks quickly over to his lacrosse bag.

In an instant I'm by her side on the steps, though she barely notices me as she cups her knee in her palm and begins rubbing it hastily in an attempt to warm it.

I look down and notice she's still wearing her cleats. "You drove here in your cleats?"

She shakes her head and stands straight up again, "Yeah, I didn't bother changing." She looks over to Isaac, "Anyway, Hath decided we'd do a scrimmage today," she says as she takes another pained step, "and then sprints on the field," I suddenly notice there are muddy streaks all over her skin where mud had been mostly washed away by rain, her clothes are covered in it as well. "And lastly," she begins as I try to help her down the last few steps, "she decided a run through town would be fun."

Avery sits herself down on a bench and throws her lacrosse bag off of her shoulders as Isaac walks back with a sweatshirt in his hand. "So why didn't you change?"

"Because, you said that, what do you call this? 'Werewolf practice'?" she looks up at Isaac and me, "Well, you said it ends at like 6 or something, and it was already like 5:30 when we got done. And my other clothes were wet too."

Isaac hands her a sweatshirt and a pair of men's shorts, "Here, you might wanna put this on," she takes it quickly and wraps it around her knee, "or you could do that." He shrugs.

"Thanks," she says quickly, "I thought I was past this by now," Avery says, motioning to her knee.

"Let me see," I pull the sweatshirt away from her knee and see nothing but pale, goosebump covered skin. No swelling, no scar, nothing.

Boyd and Erica make it back a moment later, "Something wrong?" Boyd asks in a mere pant.

"No," Avery says, "just sore from tryouts." She sits up and looks around, "So what did I miss?"

"Speed training." Erica says.

"I guess you got enough on your own though, huh, Ave?" Boyd jokes. Avery smiles and pushes herself up off the bench as she shivers.

"You should've seen the freshmen, a couple quit midway through the sprints and I bet a bunch more won't show up tomorrow. Is there somewhere I can change?"

"Back of the subway car always works for me," Isaac says as he points her in the direction. She smiles and limps off with the sweatshirt and baggy shorts clutched in her hands.

"Are we done for the day, then?" Erica asks, "I have homework to do," the three of us all look to her in surprise.

"Okay, first, who gives homework on the first day of school, and second, since when do you care about doing homework in the first place?" Isaac asks.

Erica gives an acidic smile as she begins walking down the subway tunnel, "New year, new me," sarcasm practically drips from her voice before she disappears into the tunnels that lead to her neighborhood. Some of these old tunnels lead right through the city, making it convenient for Erica and Boyd to get around.

"Right," Boyd says, "I think I'm just gonna go catch up on my show then, let me know if you need me." he says to me as he begins walking down the opposite tunnel towards his neighborhood.

"I'll go on patrol with you tonight." Isaac says quietly. I look over to him and fins his eyes are dark, as if there's something behind them.

"You have school tomorrow, and you've always hated patrol." He just shrugs.

"It's a chance for us to talk." I narrow my eyes at that.

"Is there something I need to know?" Isaac takes a few calm steps back towards the stairs.

"I just need to talk to you, that's all."

"Fine, same time, same place." Isaac just nods before turning and taking off up the stairs and out of sight.

I take a deep breath and run my hand through my hair. "Seriously?" Avery asks behind me. I turn to see her stepping out of the train in the baggy sweatshirt and shorts, carrying her dripping clothes and cleats in her hand. "I just got here! Where did everyone go?"

"They went home," I say as she walks by me to throw her clothes in her equally soaked bag. I bite my tongue as I see the back of the sweatshirt with 'Lahey' printed on the back.

"One of these days I'll make it here on time and actually do something." She mumbles to herself as she zips her bag up. "Oh, by the way," Avery turns to me, "are you busy tonight?"

"I'm going on patrol-"

She waves her hand up, stopping me mid-way, "Yeah, yeah, but after that?" When I hesitate, she begins rambling, "Because I couldn't really sleep last night, probably just nerves because of school but whatever, and I was thinking that I had sex with you, but all I know is your name and that's probably considered really slutty-"

"Some people don't even know last names." She stops and stares off for a moment before wrinkling her nose.

"What, like a one night stand kinda thing?" I nod and she looks at me questioningly, "Was that what this was to you?" her voice is nervous and her eyes worried.

I take a moment to look her up and down again, her hair is still a complete mess, her skin is stained brown from mud, her feet are bare on the cracked tiles, and it's a wonder those baggy shorts are even staying on her.

I look back up to her face to see that my hesitation to answer has only made her more nervous, to the point where her eyes are practically bugging out of her head. I don't even bother trying to hold back a grin, "It doesn't have to be." I say. Her face relaxes and a blush fills her cheeks.

She turns away and grabs her bag as a smile spreads across her face, "I think this is the first time I've seen you without socks on." I say.

"Shut up!" she laughs as she runs up the stairs. She stops in the middle and turns around, "Wait so you're coming later then, right?"

"I'll be there." I say. She smiles widely and runs up the rest of the stairs. I wait until I hear her car start and take off down the road before I walk up to the street above and take my seat behind the wheel of my Camaro.

With a turn of the key, the engine roars to life and I shift into the first gear.

A Few Hours Later

"Took you long enough," I say from my spot sitting on top of the rocky cliffs that hang over Beacon Hills. The rain stopped maybe an hour or two ago, so at least the night is clear for patrol. The mud is thick and difficult to run in, so I doubt we'll be out for long tonight.

"Yeah, well, I got caught up." Isaac says as he approaches the rocks. "I do need to talk to you, though." He wastes no time getting into it, "Are you and Avery….hooking up?" I look back at him with a bit of confusion written on my face, "You get really quiet around her, and earlier, when you touched her leg trying to get a look at her knee, she shivered." The confusion on my face deepens.

Isaac sighs and looks away for a moment, "It wasn't the 'I'm cold' kind of shiver. You were probably too busy looking at her knee to notice."

When I say nothing, Isaac backtracks, "Am I wrong? Because if I'm wrong then I just made things so freakin' awkward-"

"You're not wrong," I finally say. Isaac takes a relieved breath.

"So, you like her, right?"

"Isaac." I say as a warning.

"I'm just saying that things could get weird if you two don't work out or something happens- Okay just forget I said anything. But there's another thing I needed to talk to you about. Avery's ex is back in town, what should we do?"

I take a deep breath and look down at the town below. "I'll tell her he's back, there's nothing really that we can do. Maybe I could try to reach into her memories, we might have to get some extra help."

"Oh hell no, Derek you're not talking about-"

"I wish there was another way, Isaac, trust me, I do. But we don't have many options."

Isaac lets out a long breath, "He's still a dick, though."

"Yeah, I know he is."

"Right, let's get going then, maybe we can get this done before another storm blows in." I jump down from the rocky overhang and take off through the trees. Isaac hesitates a moment before joining me on the patrol route.

Not Long After


I don't even know how long I've been in the shower. Probably at least an hour, maybe two. Normally I would be worried about running up the water bill or something, but after filling the pool up I figure the water bill is a lost cause anyway.

I use my shower comb to slowly rid my hair of the tangles, though it just seems like my hair is being pulled out in the process. The mud washed off easily enough, though I still somehow don't feel clean. Today sucked.

The first day always sucks.

Seriously though, who makes a crack at someone in front of an entire classroom? And what kind of teacher just lets it happen? I take a deep breath and try not to think about it, though that's pretty much impossible.

The water's warmth feels like heaven on my skin and especially so on my knee. Hathaway has never been so rough on the first tryout, though I guess she could afford to this year.

In the scrimmage, some of the freshmen she talked about were really stepping up. They played better than most of our upperclassmen did. Although it's always different in games. Younger players don't handle pressure well, so I don't expect much from them.

It's just like Hath said, they have the raw talent, but need the experience.

I finish combing through my hair finally and turn the water off. My hair smells like strawberries and my legs are nice and smooth and everything is just better.

I grab my towel and wrap it around myself as I squeeze out my hair. I hear footsteps in my room, "You didn't lock your door again." Derek says quietly from the far corner of my room. I can tell now where voices are coming from, which is definitely a good thing, otherwise I would just walk out in my room.

"Right," I say, "can I have like five minutes in my room to get dressed?"

"I'll give you four." I hear him say as he closes the door to my room.

"You don't get to decide how long I have to get dressed." I argue as I step out into my room and grab Isaac's sweatshirt off of my bed. I drop my towel and slip the hoodie over my head in an attempt to save time.

"I'm the one holding the door closed." He says, "I could just walk in right now."

"But you won't." I say as I turn to my dresser and pull out a pair of black sleeping shorts. I pull them quickly up my legs and toss the towel into the bathroom.

Next thing I know, Derek steps in. I look towards him in shock, "What the hell? I still had like three minutes!" I complain.

"That was before you dared me." I nod once and sit down on my bed.

"Right, so I guess you put the 'dare' in Der-ek." I smile and Derek shakes his head.

"That wasn't even a good joke," I shrug.

"None of mine are." Derek walks to my desk and pulls my swivel chair to the top of the stairs leading down to the second half of my room. He turns it around and sits down so that his arms are crossed over the back of the chair.

"Remind me not to look to you for comedic relief." I laugh and roll up the sleeves of the sweatshirt, finding it suddenly hot. "What do you want to know?" he asks, his voice suddenly growing more serious.

"Well," I begin, looking down at my comforter, "how old are you?" his eyebrows shoot up as if to say, 'really?' "Oh, come on," I say, "I've had a really bad day. This would make it a little less shitty."

He sighs before answering, "Twenty-four." He states plainly.

I nod and look off for a moment, "Six years difference isn't bad." I stare at him for a moment, but find his face practically blank. "So do you have a job or something?"

He shakes his head, "My family left me an inheritance. A ridiculous one."

"So, your family…they're…gone, then?" his face doesn't change much.

He nods once, "Yes, mostly. I don't talk about it much." I nod and try to find something else to ask.

"Okay, so, where are you from?"

"Here. I grew up here, went to Beacon high, too."

"Really? Did you play any sports? I'm guessing you're not a lax bro, huh?" I ask with a smile.

He shakes his head and smiles the tiniest bit, "Basketball." I narrow my eyes at him.

"Seriously? I suck at basketball. One time in elementary school we had ten shots to make as many baskets as we could. I missed all of them."

"Oh, well good job, then." He says sarcastically. I grab a pillow and toss it at him, but it goes right over his head. "See, that's why you play lacrosse."

"Jerk." I mumble. "So what's the dumbest thing you've ever done?" his eyebrows furrow together, "What? You can tell a lot about someone from the dumb shit they've done."

"I'm ignoring that one. I have a question for you, anyway." His green eyes seem to shine and his lips form a straight line as he looks me over just as he always does. "Why are you still wearing Isaac's sweatshirt?"

My forehead wrinkles at the question, "Umm, because it's the first thing I grabbed before you walked into my room?" he keeps looking at me with that shine in his eyes and I feel the room getting hotter as my mouth dries.

"Take it off." He says flatly, as if he's asking for me to pass the salt.

"No," I say defensively, he doesn't move a muscle, doesn't even blink.

"Why?" his voice is flat and calm, just as before.

"Because," I swallow, trying to wet my throat so I can talk normally instead of croak. "Because I don't have anything on under this." His mouth pulls up into the world's smallest smirk, and he slowly stands up from the chair. Heat spreads through my stomach and that damn throb starts even lower.

He slides his jacket off and hangs it up on one of the banister posts as he walks down the few steps towards my spot sitting on the edge of the bed. He stands before me, encompassing me in his heat and his scent.

My legs slowly spread themselves reflexively as he kneels down between them. My bed is so low that even on his knees, Derek's head is on level with mine. His hands come to either side of my thighs and begin roaming up until his fingers tuck under the waistband of my shorts.

His lips trace up my neck until they come to my ear, "Take it off." He says again, this time more sternly. "You'll like what comes next." His hands slowly slide my shorts further down, teasing me before pulling them back up again.

"Damn it," I practically whimper, "I hate you." I reach for the bottom of the sweatshirt and hastily pull it off and toss it on the floor. I hear Derek chuckle but quickly shut him up with a kiss that turns deep and hungry.

One of his hands pulls one half of my shorts partially down while the other squeezes and cups my breast roughly. He breaks the kiss and ducks his head. His hot mouth finds my nipple easily as his fingers snake themselves between my legs. My voice is gone and I'm nothing but a bunch of gasps and moans mixed together.

I can already feel myself quivering as his fingers move in slow circles, so I pull at his shirt to distract him, if only for a moment. I manage to pull his shirt most of the way up, and he breaks all contact to pull it up and over his head.

And then his fingers are back, moving faster than before. I reach down, grab his hand, and hold it tight against me as he works. I open my eyes to see him watching me with a dark gleam in his eye. As I stare back at him, his fingers stop altogether. I take a few breaths, trying to regain myself. But just as I open my mouth to speak, one of his fingers slides inside me.

My head falls back as a moan fills my throat. His other hand comes up and slowly pushes me back against the bed as his finger begins sliding in and out at a painfully slow pace. He pushes my legs open wider, not that they're giving much resistance.

I grab at the sheets around me as he picks up the pace and adds another finger. I hear myself moaning and whimpering as he works but I can't seem to stop. My body tenses up and I raise my hips for him to finish me, but just as I reach the brink Derek pull his fingers out altogether.

My body collapses against the sheets in disappointment, "Derek," I finally manage to whine. I look down to see him smirking at me again. His hands wind themselves up my legs, over my thighs, and he brings my legs up so that my knees are bent over his shoulders.

He hooks his hands inside my thighs and rubs the top of them appreciatively. "I wouldn't waste an orgasm on that if I were you," he says darkly, "I'm going to make enough of a mess of you as it is." I close my eyes and swallow as he plants a kiss just to the left of where I really want his lips. I reach down and lace my fingers through his hair, hoping to hurry him up.

"Well I wish you would go ahead and do it." A cold breeze washes over my core; I hiss and shiver. I look down to see Derek blowing it on me. "Damn it, Derek, please!"

All I hear is a small rumble just before my eyes roll back into my head and my legs clamp themselves onto his shoulders, keeping him in place. My fingers practically claw at his head but his hands reach up and pin them down to the bed.

His lips kiss my core deeply before his tongue takes the role of his fingers and fucks me. The things he can do with his mouth…

He lets one of my hands go and sucks at my clit as his fingers once again take their place inside me. He fucks me faster than any time before and within seconds I'm gone. My legs squeeze him with as much strength as I can manage as I come.

Derek's hands roam up and down my sides, he even gives my breasts a good squeeze as I slowly return to Earth. "This is just a world of firsts for you, isn't it?" he asks as he stands up. I hear him kicking off his boots. I keep my eyes closed a few moments longer.

I keep my legs tightly together and smile against the sheets. I hear him undoing his belt and open my eyes. "Wait," I say as I sit up. I look at him standing at the edge of the bed with his jeans still on and an obvious erection pressed against the denim.

I crawl to the end and sit up on my knees. He stares down at me with that lusty dark gleam. I reach for his belt and push his hands out of the way, "I want to do it," I say as I manage to unfasten his belt easily. I notice an indentation in his jean pocket and reach in. I set the condom wrapper on the bed and pull down Derek's jeans.

He steps out of them and kicks them aside, leaving only his black boxers on. I reach up to the tent formation his erection had made and run my hand along it, feeling it press against my touch. I bite my lip and pull the boxers down. His cock springs up, hard and ready.

Derek discards of his boxers almost too quick to see. I reach out nervously and wrap my fingers around him gently. I carefully stroke him up and down before looking up and smiling at him nervously. "Am I doing this right?" I ask.

Derek wraps his hand around mine and squeezes harder before guiding me in speed. "Like this," he practically grumbles as his grip loosens and I begin pumping him on my own. I look up to see his gaze lidded and his mouth partly open.

I bite my lip nervously and flip my hair out of the way as I lean down and open my mouth. I let a hot breath wash over him just enough to get a moan out of him. I pull back just as I'm about to make contact and grab the condom wrap. I tear it open and roll it on him. "We'll save that first for another day." I say as I pull him down into a kiss. He lets out an annoyed growl and pushes me down onto the bed.

He leans over me and stares me down, "You'll regret that." His arms flip me over and pull my ass up in the air. I push my arms underneath me and look back at him as he lines himself up.

I spread my legs wider and try to relax myself as I feel him brush over my entrance. I gasp as he thrusts home. He's just as big as I remember, and at first it stings a bit, but as he finds his rhythm it's just as good as I remember, maybe even more.

His hands hold my hips tightly, keeping me in place as he slams into me. For a while I try to hold back the noises in my throat, but Derek purposefully thrust once, twice, so deep into me that I felt it in my stomach, and my silence was shattered after that.

My arms turned to jello as my legs started to shake and my mind kept fading in and out of blackness as my end drew near. He was towards his own finish by the time I screamed his name and my arms gave out. I could feel my walls contacting around him, squeezing him deeper into me as I collapsed against the bed. He flipped me over easily and kept thrusting without missing a beat.

By the time he came, my mind was practically mush. I could barely move my lips against his when his mouth crushed down against mine as his body went rigid. He gave a few more gentle thrusts as he spilled into the condom.

Before he pulled out, I could feel his mouth on my neck and I laced my fingers through his hair as he pulled out. His heat disappeared for a moment, but I could hear him tying the condom and tossing it away.

I found enough energy to push open my eyes and wrap myself around him when he laid back down. His hand brushed over my shoulder blade soothingly and I was lost in the sensation. The last conscious thought I had was that maybe today wasn't so bad after all.


I stare up at the skylight as Avery sleeps with her head on my chest. A vibration suddenly sounds from on top of the dresser next to me. I reach over as carefully as I can and grab the phone.

The screen reads:

Incoming Call:

Jake Reily

Chapter Text

Author's Note: Okay, first, I am soooo sorry. I've been having a bit of a writer's block on this story as of late. Also, sorry this chapter isn't long or interesting really, but I needed to ease myself back into writing it, so this is where I'm starting back up! I hope you enjoy!


I gently pull my arm out from under Avery and slide her off my chest and onto the pillow. She murmurs a bit but nuzzles into the pillow.

I sit up and pull on my boxers quickly as the phone vibrates in my hand. As I walk out of the room, I hit the 'answer' button.

I hold the phone at my side as I make it to the door and closed it behind me. "Hello? Avery?" The voice asks on the other end. I take a breath before raising the phone to my face.

"No." I say firmly.

There's a sharp breath on the other end before he asks, "Who is this?"

"Believe me when I say you do not want to find out."

"Listen, I was just-"

"Don't call her again." I hit 'end' and cut him off as he tried to say something. I search through the phone's directory and delete him from her contacts.

I head back into the room and find that Avery hasn't moved from her spot in the bed. I walk back to the bed and sit back in the bed against the headboard. Surprisingly, Avery still doesn't wake up, just buries her head further into her pillow.

I look up through the skylight as Avery breathes deeply beside me. I fold my arms behind my head as I look at the night sky.

Avery shifts in her spot, and turns to lay facing me on her side. The blanket falls off her shoulder, exposing her chest to the room's cool air. I reach down and pull the comforter back over her before I settle back against the headboard and close my eyes.

An alarm sounds, and I open my eyes to see Avery's alarm clock flashing on her nightstand. "Avery," I say, looking down to find her head on my chest, her mouth open, hair in a mess, and snoring slightly.

I laugh a bit and move my arm under her, shaking her a bit, "Avery," I say louder as I shake my arm again.

Her head pops up with a jump, "Huh? What?" she asks, putting her head back down but shifting around. She looks over toward her alarm clock, the noise finally registering to her.

Her eyes go wide, "Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" she yells, bundling up the sheets and jumping off the bed, only to fall. "Oh crap!" I sit up and look down at her, barely holding in a laugh. "Damn it, my leg's asleep!"

"You're ridiculous." I say, shaking my head as she looks up at me angrily.

"Silence!" she says, using the bed to push herself back up. She limps to the nightstand and hits the alarm, finally making it stop ringing. "I'm late, I'm so late!"

I lay back and cross my arms under my head as I watch her scramble around the room, grabbing clothes and throwing them on the end of the bed piece by piece. "'I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date!'" I say, mocking her.

She stops and turns toward me, "Don't you use Lewis Carrol on me." She says.

My eyebrows shoot up, "Wow, I'm impressed," I say, slightly sarcastically.

Avery throws the blanket off of her and over my head. "Hey, I know some stuff!" she objects. I laugh and pull the sheet off of my head to find her fastening her bra. "I can't believe this; second day of school and I'm gonna be late!" She snatches her underwear from the bed and slips them on, still grumbling to herself.

After a few minutes of frantically running around the room grabbing this and that, brushing her teeth and hair, she stands in front of me. "Okay, how do I look?" she asks.

I look her over as she smiles and looks down at her shoes. She's wearing a red dress that stops a bit above her knee. I shrug and push myself up to a sitting position.

"What?" she asks, nerves creeping into her voice.

I reach out and grab her hips, pulling her to me, "You look fine," I say, "though I preferred you naked," I say, my hands sliding down around the backs of her legs. I cup her ass and she pushes me back against the bed with a surprised squeal.

"Your right to an opinion has officially been withdrawn," she says as she grabs her backpack from off the floor and climbs the stairs towards the door on the other side of the room, "but thank you." She says with a wink before stepping out. "See you later!" she calls behind her.

"Don't be late this time!" I yell as stand up and pull on my jeans.

"Alright, alright," she says, walking back into the room with a wide smile. She crosses the room quickly and comes to the side of the bed, grabbing her cell phone off of the nightstand. "No need to yell." She says with a laugh as she turns to face me.

She leans in close, and I close my eyes as her lips brush mine, "Don't forget to lock the door." She whispers. Her hand brushes over the bulge of my pants, I open my eyes and try to grab for her, only to find her gone.

I catch a glimpse of her figure disappearing out of the doorway, her laugh ringing through the hall as she raced down the stairs and out the front door.

Later That Day


My first few classes fly by, and I'm sitting in anatomy, listening to my teacher begin the unit on the skin when a student aide comes in and hands him a small blue note. Everyone leans forward in their seats, they all know that a blue note is a pass to get out of class, a.k.a, a pass out of this dull lesson.

The teacher looks at it for a moment, and I can almost hear everyone in the room pray that it's their name on the paper. "Avery," he says, holding the paper out in my direction.

I get up and cross the room, taking the note from his hands before leaving the class. I look down and see that the pass says to go to principal Argent's office.

I clench my jaw and breathe in deeply. He knows. He must know.

My mind races, how the hell could he have figured it out? Did he see me run in the parking lot? Would that be enough to figure it out?

I slowly begin walking down the halls, and find myself wanting to call Derek and ask him what to do.

Maybe it's nothing, there's just no way he could've have figured out what I am this quickly. Plus, it's not like he can do anything about it in the daytime in the middle of a school.

I calm myself down just in time for when I make it to his office. Taking a final breath, I step into the office.

Once inside, Sheriff Stilinski and Principal Argent turn to look at me. "Ah," Principal Argent says, "and here she is now." He says with a smile.

I manage a small smile back, but say nothing. Sheriff Stilinski steps towards me and looks me over, "You're looking well," he says, "how are you doing?" he gives me that smile that makes me think there's more going on in his mind than just how I'm doing.

"I'm good." I say politely, "How are you?"

He shrugs a bit, "I'm good, I'm good." He says calmly, "Listen, I came here to tell you something important."

"Yes," Principal Argent says, "why don't you come in and have a seat." He motions toward a chair and I do as he says.

Sheriff Stilinski also takes a seat, same with Principal Argent. "Jake is back in town." Sheriff Stilinski says bluntly, "Now, we're still looking into what happened that night, and the case should move much faster now that he's back and we can question him but for now, we need something stronger to hold him with before we make a move on him."

"I don't-" I begin before I shake my head and start again, "you said you found another person's blood in the car, why don't you just test the blood or something?" Sheriff Stilinski nods.

"We're going to, but first we need a warrant to legally seize his DNA." I rub my forehead with my palm. "You have to understand that this isn't like those shows on TV, getting a warrant takes time. We set up a time to meet with the judge and we're compiling everything we have on him to show the judge and get her to grant the warrant."

I nod slowly, taking it all in. "There is one more thing." Principal Argent sighs. "Now that Jake has returned to town, he's also coming back to school. Today will be his first day." My heart falls clean through my chest.

I grab the armrests of my seat and squeeze hard as my vision smears with red. "What do you mean? He just gets to come back? Just like that?" I take a deep breath, but it does little good.

"There's no legal reason he can't be here," Principal Argent explains, "I can't keep him from coming to school, it's his right to public schooling." I look down at my lap and breathe. "I've gone over his schedule and ensured that he has no classes with you."

"Avery," Sheriff Stilinski rests his hand on my shoulder, "we know this is going to be hard for you, but you have to make sure you don't do anything that could put your case at risk. If you see him and you do something, then everything you've done and gone through will be for nothing, and the judge will likely dismiss the case in court." The very thought of that happening makes my blood boil.

"I understand." I say quietly before standing up, pushing the door open, and running into the bathroom. I make sure to keep my head down, my eyes have turned; I can feel it.

Once inside the bathroom I listen for any heartbeats, but there's nothing. I lean over the sink and gag repeatedly. It's a good thing I didn't have time for breakfast, otherwise it would have come up by now.

Looking up into the mirror I see that I was right, my eyes are showing. My claws aren't fully out, but my nails look distinctly longer than they were. As I watch, the porcelain sink cracks under my hands. I quickly let go, and a sliver of it falls to the ground with a crash.

A heartbeat grows closer to the bathroom, and my canines ache to come out. I bite down hard and step inside a stall. Pushing the lid down, I sit on the top of it, bringing my feet up to make sure I'm not seen.

The door is pushed open, and someone steps inside. I smell the air and hold in a growl as Principal Argent's scent fills my nose.

But, it's not his scent, it's different. Lighter. Fresher. Younger.

I peek out of the crack in the door as the footsteps come deeper within the bathroom, coming to a stop in front of the mirrors. At first I just see medium length black hair, then I look in the mirror to see Allison Argent fixing her hair. She takes another step toward the mirror to inspect something closer and her foot lands on the sliver of porcelain that I broke off from the sink.

Leaning down, she picks up the sliver and holds it to the sink.

As I watch, my mouth falls open and my canines grow. At some point, I'd stepped off of the toilet and pressed myself up against the door.

Shrinking back, I once again take my seat atop the toilet seat lid. Allison swirls around, "Hello?" she asks quietly.

I begin to sing quietly in my head.

Just hear those sleigh bells jinglin' ring tin tinglin' too,

Come on it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you,

We're snuggled up together like a bird of a feather would be,

Come on it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you.

I take a few shaky, deep breaths, keeping careful not to make them audible. Allison looks right at my stall. "Erica?" she asks.

"You really should leave." I say surprisingly clearly.

Allison's eyes narrow for a moment before she moves towards the door. "Do you want me to get Scott? Or Isaac?" I'm not sure if she knows I'm not Erica, but I'm not sure it really matters either.

"No." I say as she continues to move towards the door.

Allison lets out a breath, her heart is beating fast; she's obviously nervous, I would be too if I were her. In a few moments, she's gone, leaving me alone.

I rest my head against my knees and take a few deep breaths. I sit there for a while, and when the bell rings, signaling the end of third period, I realize I've been sitting here a really long while.

I stand up and quickly check that no werewolf extremities are showing in the mirror before I push open the door and leave the bathroom.

Somehow, someway, I have to make sure I don't see him. Maybe if I go late to every class I'll manage to avoid running into him in the hallway. For….however long it takes for him to get formally charged and convicted….


I head back to class to get my things and carry on with my day, praying all the while that I don't so much as catch a glimpse of Jake.

The day went overall well, but I wasn't able to focus at all with the thought of him being anywhere near me.

Somewhere during the day, coach Hathaway sent me a text saying she'd be late to practice today so I was supposed to get everyone through warmups and have them do easy drills until she got there. She made the announcement that I was the new captain at the end of yesterday's practice, which got me a couple unhappy stares, the worst of which came from Cassie.

By the time I was getting dressed in the locker room, going to practice sounded like a welcome distraction. When we all got out on the stadium field and were stretching, I started to relax and joke around with my teammates

After that, we ran shuttles, passing the ball on the move while running towards each other. Lacrosse has always been a refuge for me. When my parents were fighting, I'd go outside and play around with my stick and try to get tricks just right. Whenever I'm in the game, everything else just fades away.

Or, at least, it used to.

Just before I caught the next ball in the shuttle, a loud shout grabbed my attention. "Hey!" I looked to see Jackson leading out the boys' lacrosse team. Beside him is Scott, with Stiles tagging along behind him.

I step out of the shuttle line and walk over to Jackson. On my way over, Jake steps out from the team and makes a move to come over, but stops himself when I practically pull up my lip in a snarl.

I keep my lacrosse goggles on as Jackson and Scott step forward, leaving their team behind them. "We're supposed to be on the stadium field." Jackson says, getting right down to the point.

"Hathaway said we had the stadium." I say, letting the head of my stick rest against the ground. I try to keep my eyes from wandering over Jackson's shoulder towards Jake. To distract myself I look between Scott and Jackson, hoping that Jake will just fade into the background before I do something I regret.

Gotta stay calm, gotta stay calm.

Scott looks at Jackson, "Dude, it's really not a big deal." He says in a soft voice, "We can just take the practice field."

As I stare at Jackson, I realize a few things I hadn't noticed at first. One is that he's shaking, two is that his breaths are short and ragged, like he's really ramped up. Third I realize that the first two are because he's borderline shifting.

I look at Scott, who stares back at me with wide, worried eyes. I feel Jake's eyes on me, from a few feet away, and I catch his scent in the air.

My mind goes black, and a sharp pain pierces my temple as I'm drawn into a memory.

I'm sitting in the passenger seat of my car, slumped back against the back of the seat, barely keeping my eyes open as the car moves through the woods. I look over to the drivers seat, and see Jake smiling back at me, making some comment I can't quite make out.

All of a sudden, his eyes are back on the road and a look of horror envelops his face as he pulls the steering wheel back and forth, swerving in a panic.

"Avery?" Scott asks, stepping forward a bit. I snap out of the blur, and realize I've been dead on staring at Jake with a real snarl on my face.

"I'm gonna give you five minutes to get off our field." Jackson says aggressively.

"Jackson-" Scott places his hand over Jackson's chest, trying to pull him back a bit.

"Or what?" I hiss, taking a step forward and narrowing my eyes as he glares down at me. "What are you gonna do?"

Deep inside, I can feel something ignite and a grin spreads across my face.

Chapter Text

Author's Note: I'm sorry I'm so sorry omg this took way too long. See, here's the thing, I got Dragon Age: Inquisition for Christmas and, well, there's apparently 90 hours of missions, not including just regular gameplay. So that's my excuse.

So I'm still having a little trouble with writing block so this chapter is short again but next chapter should be pretty great! Hopefully there's not too many errors.


I stand between Jackson and Avery as they stare each other down. Both of their eyes are beginning to gleam gold and it won't be long until they're both at each other's throats, trying to tear them out in front of both lacrosse teams.

My experiences with out of control werewolves has usually been, well, me.

And looking at the two of them, it suddenly hits me how Stiles must feel all the time.

I try to think of when I was new at this and couldn't control myself, and I suddenly know just what to do. I grab both Avery's and Jackson's hands and twist them so harshly that they both snap.

The two of them let out pained noises as they try to wrench their arms out of my grasp. I let them go, and they both cradle their now broken wrists in their hands. "McCall…." Jackson grinds between his teeth as he looks up at me with the same hateful look he always gives me. They don't hold even a trace of gold in them.

I look at Avery to make sure she's back to normal, and she looks like herself, but at the same time, she isn't. She stares down at her wrist, but her eyes are glazed over, like she's seeing something else. "Avery?" I ask, trying to get her attention.

She blinks, but her eyes don't look up at me. "Thank you, Scott." Her voice has an edge of pain to it, but her wrist is already healing. She slowly rolls it, working out the pain as he bones reset. She makes a fist and then relaxes her hand. When she looks up, her eyes are cold and distant, but her heartbeat beats furiously. "We're taking the stadium field today." She says as if it's a simple fact.

Her eyes look over to Jake, and they linger there for a moment before she turns away, grabs her lacrosse stick from the ground and jogs back into the shuttle line she was in.

Jackson stares at me angrily, "Nice going, idiot." He says, purposefully hitting my shoulder as he walks past me, leading the team to the practice field.

I stand there a few moments longer, keeping my eyes on Avery, who seems completely stoic as she runs through the line, makes a nice catch on a bad pass, and gives her teammate a perfectly placed pass right to her stick.

Stiles comes to stand next to me, "We need to talk to Derek." I say. His only response is a deep exhale.


Practice flew by quickly, but everything just made me more frustrated. I wanted to tell Derek that Jake's back, that maybe we can finally figure out what happened and have the whole story. I just want to get rid of this blank space in my head, I just want to get out of here.

But I had the entire practice to get through, so I tried to find some sort of release for my frustration in practice. But I couldn't find it.

No one was going hard enough, no one was pushing themselves enough for me to find any satisfaction. I knew that they were saving themselves because at the end of practice Hathaway would make us all sprint all over again, but I just wanted something to take my mind off of things, and the team's slowed pace was not helping.

When sprints finally came around I was able to put my mind off of things for a while, but only until the suicides were over. Then it was back to thinking and wondering and not having any answers for anything that I questioned.

After the sprints, practice was over, and I was still full of unhappy, unused energy, and I was chomping at the bit because of it. I rushed to my car afterwards and sped off to the train station, not even bothering to change back into normal clothes after practice.

I smelled like a mixture of deodorant and sweat, but there was nothing to be done about that. When I pulled up to the station, I found Derek's Camaro already there parked on the street. I parked right behind him and quickly made my way down the stairs and inside.

I look around to find Erica in her usual spot on top of the train car, Boyd inside the train car leaning out, and Derek is in front of them all, leaning against one of the old columns of the place. Isaac is nowhere to be found, but I brush that off quickly.

"Jake is back." I say bluntly.

Derek's face doesn't change from the perfectly stoic face he always has on. His arms are folded across his chest, emphasizing the breath he pulls in slowly. My eyebrows push together in confusion. "You…knew..?" I ask. I look to Erica and Boyd, "Did you tell him?"

Erica shrugs, "Didn't have to." She says curtly.

I look to Derek again and he pushes himself off of the column. "How did you know he was back?" I ask, my voice sounding like an accusation because my stomach is turning uneasily.

"Doesn't matter," he says. I brush off the fact that it did, in fact, matter, and I try to focus.

"Alright, well then what are we going to do about it?"

"What do you mean? He's back now, the police will do what they do and we stay out of their way." He answers.

Some part of me knows that's the rational thing to do, the sane thing, the sure thing. But another part of me, one blinded with anger, or maybe desperation, set in. "I need to know everything that happened that night, Derek. The police can't give me my memories back."

"Neither can I." he says, his voice is angry and frustrated.

I just stand there staring at him blankly as a previous conversation plays in my head.

" Can you help me remember? Can you?" I ask.

" If that's what you want." He replies.

He almost opened his mouth to respond, but Isaac came bounding down the staircase with his lacrosse bag in hand. Tossing it onto a bench, he smiled widely, "Sorry, we had to stay late to get our uniforms today."

Derek turned toward him, leaving me utterly confused and obviously angry. "We hadn't started yet, anyway." he tells Isaac. "You're with Avery today, teach her some basics." I manage to hold in a growl.

"Erica, Boyd," Derek says, turning towards them, "you're with me."

I clench my fists, letting my nails cut into my palms. He lied to me. He lied to me and told me he could help me when he couldn't, and now he's brushing it off like it was nothing.

I turn away and begin walking up the staircase. "Avery." Derek calls behind me. "Where are you going?" he asks in a voice that sounded half exhausted, half infuriated.

"I'm going to find out what happened to me." I reach the top of the stairs and step outside, only to have Derek appear beside me.

"What does it matter?" he grind between his teeth as I walk towards my car. "You were drunk, you got in the car, you crashed, now you're here. How in fuck's name does it matter how it got to be this way? The police will arrest him and find out whatever to fuck happened so what does it matter?"

"It matters." I practically hiss as I turn to face him before I fling open the car door and step inside, slamming the door behind me. I grab my keys and push them into the ignition, by the time I look back up, Derek is gone.

I reach over to my wallet and pull Sherriff Stilinski's card out of it. On the backside of the card, his private information is listed, including his home address.


Derek came down the stairs at a quick pace. Erica, Boyd, and I could clearly hear him and Avery from down here. If I didn't know him better, I would probably ask him what the hell his problem is and why he was acting like such a dick.

But by now, I know him well enough to know that when he acts like this, it's not without reason, not saying it's a good reason, but there's always one behind it.

I take a deep breath and try to change the subject before he begins shouting about why we're all just standing here. "Jackson and Avery nearly tore each other's throats out today at practice," I say, knowing full well this won't lighten his mood at all, but it might stop him from taking his anger out on us, "we really need to start working on them."

He takes a deep, frustrated breath and runs a hand through his hair. "She's not going to do anything, not until she remembers what happened."

"Can you really blame her?" Erica shrugs. Everyone looks toward Erica then, all of us wondering why the hell she would ever defend Avery. "What?" she asks, looking around at all of us, "That night kind of changed everything about her life, wouldn't you guys want to know what went on?"

The station falls silent for a few moments before Boyd asks, "Did you really tell her you could help her get her memories back?"

Derek looks up at him with darkened eyes, he nods once, and turns away, pacing off toward the tunnel. "But you can't actually do that," Boyd continues.

Just then, Derek's frame straightens up, as if he'd just remembered something. He swiftly turns around to face us, his eyes wide with thought. His thumb brushes over the stubble above his lip as he stares through us. "Actually," he says slowly, as if he was pulling his words from air, "I think I can." A small curve pulls at his mouth, leaving all of us severely confused.


Scott flips through the channels, trying to decide what reality show to watch. "Alright, so what are we going to do? Walk up and be like 'hey Derek, could you keep your sourwolf babies on a leash please? We'd probably get expelled if lacrosse players started shredding each other on the fields, kay? Thanks buddy'?" I say with my usual amount of sarcasm as I push myself off my couch and make my way into the kitchen to make one of those microwavable pizzas.

"I don't know man," Scott says, "every time we go to 'talk' to Derek something goes wrong and we really don't need any more bad blood between us, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I say, waving him off, "but it's not like we can just sit around and expect him to take care of everything, right? I mean look, he changed Jackson and hasn't done a damn thing with him." I can practically feel Scott's eyes roll as he sighs.

The doorbell rings just as I place the pizza on a plate and put it into the microwave. I quickly hit the buttons and it begins heating up my obligatory after practice pizza.

"If nothing else we should keep a close eye on Jackson, at least." I say in passing as I head to the front door.

"Jake, too." He adds, "I don't trust him at all, did you see the way Avery's eyes locked on to him?"

I almost turn back to respond but my hand had already encircled the knob and had begun turning it. I pull open the door to find Avery sanding there, looking a bit peeved. "I need your help." She says. "Yours too, Scott." She calls inside.

For a second I wonder if she's peeved at the two of us talking about her and Jake, but it seems like there's more to it. She makes her way past me inside and comes to a stop in the living room, looking between me and Scott. "We're going to break into wherever the police have my car."

Scott's face twists in both surprise and confusion.

"What? Why? Why on earth would we do that?" I ask maybe too quickly.

"Because," she says with a shrug, "I just need to move past this and I think this is the only way I'll be able to." Scott and I stare at each other, having a silent conversation, or at least attempting to. "So? Are you going to help me? All I need is to know where my car is and I need a lookout, but everything else I can do myself."

I look at her and try to wipe the memory of her glaring at Jake from my mind. But it suddenly hits me that when she made eye contact with Jake was when she really began to get angry at practice. So if we do this, maybe she'll be fine from now on, and the only sourwolf junior we'll have to worry about would be Jackson.

I give one final look to Scott, who is systematically staring me down, telling me no, no, absolutely not.

"Okay," I say looking at Avery, "let's do it."

Chapter Text

Author's Note: I am so so so so so sorry everyone! I had no idea college would be so damn time consuming! Every day there was a mountain of homework and then another few hours of non stop studying! I'm off for the summer now so I will work very hard to advance the story (and hopefully finish it) this summer!

I took a creative writing class this last semester and I think it might help me in my writing so hopefully that will improve the whole story!

This chapter is not long at all. It advances the plot maybe only a few hours after we left off and once again leaves off at a small cliff hanger. I apologize for this but I felt I needed to get something out to you guys just to show I have no intention of abandoning it and will be working on it again!

You might want to reread the last few chapters just in case you don't remember what's going on! Thank you all for being so patient with me!


There are moments in life where everything moves slower, like time has slowed down just for us. Like the world decided to take a break from spinning, and watch what's unfolding before it.

It could be when you score your first lacrosse goal, or when you're in a room about to take the SAT and wondering why your future depends on one stupid standardized test. These moments can happen when you're seven years old, your parents are fighting again and you realize you're watching the end of their marriage and the end of your family.

Moments like these can be good or they can be bad, and sometimes they aren't good or bad, they're just slow and hollow. In my experience, the good ones end too soon and the bad ones just linger for what seems like forever. But the worst moments are when you're not feeling anything, everything is just passing by you. And you're stuck feeling just as slow and hollow as those moments are.

"Alright, so who's the lookout?" Stiles asks in a whisper from out spot hidden in the bushes behind the police station. The lot where my car is being held is just past one of the tallest chain fences I have ever seen.

I look over at Scott who stares back at me. Simultaneously, we both look back at Stiles, whose eyes glaze over in annoyance. "No, no, no, no, no. I refuse to be Robin this time. Not when you get to be Batman and Catwoman." Stiles looks between Scott and I begrudgingly.

Scott looks over to the fence and sighs, "Stiles, you won't be able to make it over a fence that high."

"I'm the whole reason we're here, so I'm definitely not sitting out." I chime in.

Stiles narrows his eyes and runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "Scott, you're being lookout this time." Scott opens his mouth to argue, but Stiles holds up a finger and cuts him off, "Dude, no arguing, you owe me." Scott thinks it over for a second before he sighs, "Fine. But what are you going to do about the fence?"

"Dude, relax." Stiles says.

I look back at the fence and find the back door of the fence chained and held together by a formidable looking lock. "I guess I could climb it and break the lock?" I suggest, but Stiles doesn't answer, he's too focused on a cop that appears around the corner of the building holding a flashlight. "Does he know we're here? Stiles, did we trigger a motion sensor or something?" I ask in a slight panic.

Stiles calmly positions himself further behind a bush, "No, that's just Lenny. He does as perimeter check every hour and a half or so."

I let out a deep breath, "Okay, so after he leaves, we go in, right?" Stiles nods and hold a finger to his lips, signaling me to be quiet. I nod and realize I'm not completely concealed by the bushes, so I press myself closer to Scott, who shuffles over a tiny bit to give me more room.

As Lenny moves closer to the back of the building, he steps out of the lights from the front of the building and the only part of him I can see is the flashlight in his hand. I squint through the bushes and try to focus on his shape, but I just can't seem to make out his form.

I remember those times that I changed, my sight was crystal clear. The blood red seemed to help in the dark, everything was just shades of red instead of the usual blinding black that came with staring off into the night.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, dig my fingers into the earth, and try to focus on my eyesight. I think about darkness, about utter blindness, and something amazing happens. I can feel something shift in my eyes, and when I open them again, everything is red.

I almost laugh with excitement, but I see Lenny turn towards the bushes and shine the light in our direction. Even with the light shining in my face through the bushes, I can clearly make out his bored expression and slouched posture. I can even smell the scent of old coffee on his breath as the breeze carries it to my nose.

I feel my teeth pricking the inside of my lip and smile; I'm getting better at this. Maybe I don't even need Derek's help. Here I am, controlling my abilities and taking care of my problems without him.

An uneasy feeling overtakes me at the thought of Derek and I can't tell if it's regret or anger, so I just push it out of my mind. If he hadn't decided to suddenly do a 360 on me then I wouldn't need to break the law and put my case at risk just to carry out a task he promised to help me with. This is something I have to do.

I suddenly feel Scott's eyes on me and I turn to look at him; even through the red hue of my vision, I can tell his eyes are brighter than they should be, meaning he's mid shift just as I am. It occurs to me then that he thought I was going to lose it and turn into crazy killer mode like I almost did on the lacrosse field with Jackson. Can't say I blame him.

Lenny slowly makes his way around the perimeter of the chain link fence, taking his time with heavy and slightly dragging footfall. I can hear his heart beat even and steady as he does his lap, and for a moment I marvel at the abilities I have now.

When Lenny disappears behind the front of the building, I look at Stiles. "Alright, so it's you and me then?" I ask.

He looks directly at Scott but speaks to me, "Yes," he keeps eye contact as he shuffles out of the bushes, "this time I'm Batman."

I follow his lead as we approach the fence. "So, what? I climb over, bust the lock, then open the door for you?" Stiles looks at me like I'm a complete idiot.

"No! What is this, a spy kid movie?" he laughs for a minute before pulling a key out of his pocket and holding it between us. "This is our way in." I look at the key, give a small laugh to hide my mild embarrassment and make a small noise of acknowledgement.

We make it to the gate quickly and I make sure to keep listening closely to everything going on inside the building, just to make sure no one comes out around the back. The inside of the police department is a jumble of voices, phone calls, papers shifting, and a couple angry people locked in one of the back cells of the department.

It's hard to keep everything from getting jumbled together, but I do my best to focus on the perimeter of the building and ensuring that I hear anyone coming or going. I look back towards Scott and whisper, "If you hear or see anything we don't, just howl."

I listen and hear his response, "You got it."

Stiles finishes unlocking the door and pulls it open with a smug little chuckle. I smile a bit and walk past him and inside the fenced in lot full of cars. Some are intact and some are wrecked. As I look across the lot, I breathe in deeply, pulling in the scents coming off of the cars around me.

I catch the slightest whiff of my body spray that I wear on special occasions, the same spray I was wearing on the night of my accident. The smell is masked by the scent of old, dried blood.

I follow the smell, vaguely aware Stiles' presence. My mind shuts off; I'm only following my instincts now. I catch sight of my smashed car at the front of the lot, extremely close to the back door of the building. Judging by the spider webs that have accumulated in the corner of the doorway, it doesn't look like this door gets much use.

I approach the passenger side of the car, the side completely smashed and destroyed from the impact with the tree. I reach out toward the small pieces of glass that are the remains of the passenger window. Curling my hand around the jagged glass and holding onto the door, I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

Author's Note: Okay so like I said, not long or fulfilling but I needed to get myself flowing after being away for so long! I'll get started on the next chapter right away and hopefully get it out to you guys within the next couple days! Stick with me and we'll get back into things! :)

Chapter Text


In my experience, there aren't many ways to regain a memory once they're lost. At the moment, I have one realistic option, and not one I'm particularly fond of.

I lean back against my kitchen counter with my arms folded over my chest. I stare down at the new wood floor I'd installed just at the other day and go over other possibilities in my head.

There's a memory restoring potion I know of, but the directions on how to make it are foggy in my head and the potion calls for the heart of a bull, which must be ground up and liquefied into a potion with ten other foul tasting ingredients and I've never heard of the potion ever working effectively. Plus there's no way she'd drink a liquefied bull heart.

I take a deep breath and realize that while my next choice isn't something I'd prefer, it's something that has to be done. I pull out my phone from my back pocket and sift through the contacts list until I find the name I'm looking for.

I hit 'call' and listen to the dial tone, which rings twice before a familiar voice answers, "You must be joking." The woman's voice says on the other end.

"Afraid so, I need a meeting." The woman on the other end scoffs.

"No, love, you really must be joking. You run me out of town and now suddenly you want a meeting to what? Catch up? Or…is this something more…interesting?" her voice turns low and sexual.

"Tomorrow night, you place. Be there or I'll come after you."

"Oh honey, you almost make me wanna run." I roll my eyes at the remark, but stay on the phone for her confirmation, "Fine, I'll be here."

"Good." I say before hitting the 'end' button and slipping the phone back into my pocket and walking to the fridge to get a beer.


I slide my hand over the jagged pieces of glass, careful not to cut myself. I can hear Stiles whispering something to me from a safe distance away, and I can vaguely hear his heart beat with a cautious nervousness.

My eyes glaze over as I stare into the passenger seat, and everything turns black. I wait and listen as I begin to see street lights passing through the car, illuminating the interior. The window is no longer smashed, and the door is perfectly intact.

I open the door and step inside as I am suddenly being driven down one of Beacon Hills' main streets. Everything slowly turns blurry and hazy and I can feel my body is weaker, so much weaker than they are now.

The street lights still pass by in a hum, and I can hear music in the background. I feel a hand brush over my leg, shifting my pale blue dress out of the way to encompass my knee and brush further towards my thigh.

I force my dizzy head to look over to the driver's side. I catch a blurry look at Jake sitting in the driver's seat with his eyes on the road. I watch him as closely as I can through my blurry and unsteady gaze. Jake turns off the main road onto one of the many backroads and the lull of the street lights is suddenly gone, leaving only an eerie blackness in its wake. "J-Jake?" I hear my voice echo, though my lips have not moved.

Jake's face turns toward me and I can almost see a lazy smile on his face as he looks in my direction. Past him, through the driver's side window, I can see the darkness of the forest and the outlines of the trees alongside the road. But something is moving through the trees, a shape that shouldn't be there.

The shape turns towards the road for a moment, as if looking over at the car. The black shape stares over at us with glowing red eyes.

All of a sudden I'm back outside the car from my spot beside it, staring inside at the interior with my hand on the glass. "No." I whisper, looking down at the car frantically. I bring my other hand up, grip the side of the car and close my eyes, hoping to be transported back into the vision. "No, no, no, no." I say when I realize it's not coming back.

I tear my hands away from the side of the car. I want to rip the car apart and leave it in shambles. I want to turn it into dust and leave it to be carried away by the wind. Mostly, I just want to break something. "Avery?" Stiles whispers from his spot about ten feet away.

I take a deep breath and try to bottle up some of my frustration. And I maybe rehearse Christmas song lyrics in my head. Just a little bit.

I let out a disappointed sigh after a few minutes and turn towards him, "Let's go." I say quietly. He looks at me with a matching disappointment and we both head out towards the gate. He stops outside the gate and begins relocking it up. "I think I'm just gonna head to the car, okay?"

Stiles gives me a quiet nod, his eyes show concern and I appreciate it, but it's just one of those times when I need to be alone. I give him a small smile of thanks because I can't find it in me to speak.

I turn towards the woods and take off at a fast pace, but one slow enough to be considered a 'werewolf jog'. Faster than humans, but much slower than my full speed. I run past Scott, who stays behind with Stiles.

Stiles parked his Jeep on one of the backroads that lead to the station that rarely gets used. That way, no one would spot his car in the police station parking lot and wonder what he's doing here, not that that's a big concern since he spends most of his time here anyway.

I run through the woods, dodging trees and jumping over the massive roots that line the forest ground. I can hear crickets chirping all around me and I hear the babbling of a faraway brook. Running through these woods often yields a strange sensation, one that is difficult to describe.

It's almost as if, no matter how fast you're running, you are still standing still, as if frozen in time. It's both a peaceful and unnerving feeling. For now though, it's mostly just peaceful.

I make it back to the Jeep quickly, and I take a deep breath as I step through the last of the forest's foliage and step towards the Jeep, putting my hand on its cold metallic surface in an attempt to calm myself further.

Once again, I'm left with just a glimpse into that night, and into a part that revealed nothing new. I already knew that I couldn't have been driving and I already saw glimpses of the other alpha being there. This is getting far too repetitive. I'm tired, frustrated, and sick of feeling like something is missing.

I just want to feel whole again.

I listen and hear Stiles and Scott making their way back to the Jeep. I open the door and hop inside as I wait for them to make it back.

"So, nothing?" Stiles asks as we near Scott's street. The entire ride has been quiet, with Stiles and Scott exchanging looks every once in a while as if they can communicate with just facial expressions.

"Nothing I didn't know before." I answer. I feel his dissatisfaction at not being able to help and I try to lighten the mood by brushing it off, "It's fine, I'll just find another way to remember!" I try to sound optimistic, but as I say it, the words just sound forced.

As we pull into Scott's driveway, I jump out. "Thank you both so much for taking me. I really appreciate it." I say, still trying to sound okay with how the night went.

Stiles just nods and Scott speaks as he too exits the Jeep, "I hope you find out what happened." He says simply. I give a small reassuring smile before turning away and heading to my Hummer, which is parked out on the street.

Stiles pulls out of the driveway and heads home, and I soon do the same. On the way home, I check the dashboard clock which reads 10:40.


I crush some of the wolfsbane flowers until they're little more than crumbs of purple in the bowl. I reach over for the bottle of moon juice and let the pale blue mixture drip into the bowl before I mix it together. I look over to the iron pot dangling above the fire and check to make sure that the mixture in it is not quite boiling yet. Seeing that it hasn't boiled yet, I take a moment to look around the old cellar.

I never liked it down here as a child. The shadows of the place seemed to move and lunge forward back when my family's 'pack witch' did her magic here.

The Hale pack was always one of the strongest packs, and witches knew that when they worked for packs they were far safer than they would be on their own. And working for the Hale pack was considered the position with the most protection. My mother made sure of that.

But now, looking at it, the cellar holds no sense of that darkness it once did. The shadows are still and the air is free of any thick magic. Instead, it just feels…empty.

Ever since the fire, everything has felt empty.

My attention snaps back to the pot as the mixture begins to boil. I walk back to the small workbench, grab the small bowl on the counter as well as the knife I'd sharpened in preparation for this. I walk back to the pot, pour the bowl's contents into it, and set the bowl aside.

Holding the knife steady in my hands, I hold my arm out over the boiling mixture and slowly drag the knife along my flesh, allowing the blood to trickle down into the pot. After a few seconds, the cut heals, and I set the knife aside. I pick up the large wooden spoon and stir the batch together.

After everything is mixed together well enough, I pick up the pot with a nearby cloth and set it down on the workbench to cool. The potion isn't done, but that will be taken care of tomorrow night. I pick up the bucket of water next to the fire and dump it onto the burning wood, extinguishing it for the most part.

A few embers linger, and I've grown paranoid of the possibility of a fire starting, so I take a seat in the single old, rickety chair and watch the embers slowly burn themselves out.

I pull out my cell phone and check the time; 12:45 A.M.

I doubt she's still awake by now. It's a school night after all. I let out a tired breath and slip the phone back into my pocket. She's probably in bed, cozy and asleep after taking a shower and eating whatever microwave dinner she decided on for the night.

I reach back into my pocket, but I once again just release my phone and slip my hand back out. I rub my face with my hands and try to push her out of my mind. Turns out, not thinking about Avery Chastings is not as easy as I'd like it to be.

As the last few embers burn themselves out, I stand up and walk up the stairs and exit the cellar. I turn, lock up the cellar, and then head inside the main house. I walk into the kitchen, grab a beer, and then head into what used to be the library. Reading has always been a good distraction for me and I could sure use a distraction now.

I grab one of the few books that survived the fire and pick it up before heading back to my living room and flipping on the light before sitting down on the couch and kicking my boots up onto the coffee table.

The cover of the book is charred and gives no indication of the story inside, but as I start reading, I recognize the writing as John Steinbeck's East of Eden. I've read it before, but then again, I've probably read every one of those books before.

I lean back against the sofa and take a few sips of my beer before saying, "Fuck it," getting up, grabbing my jacket, and heading out the front door.


I pick at the microwave dinner with my fork. I've always liked chicken parmesan, and I was starving right up until I got it out of the microwave, but then my appetite just disappeared. I look around the empty dining room table and hold in a sudden urge to cry.

I'm probably just frustrated over the lack of answers, but that's nothing new and I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of being alone, too. I'm tired of not knowing where I stand with Derek, and I'm extremely tired of his hot and cold attitude.

I take a deep breath and force myself to take a bite of my now cold chicken parmesan followed by a long drink of chocolate milk. After I'm done forcing down my food, I put my dishes in the sink for later and head upstairs for a shower. God knows how many ticks or bugs I have stuck in my hair after running around in the woods all night.

After taking off my clothes and stepping into the warm water, I finally relax a little bit, but I'm still stressed. Derek said he could help me remember, then he said he couldn't. Derek seems to like me, Derek suddenly snaps at me. Everything he does seems to confuse me. And now I don't even know where I stand with him.

I quickly shampoo and condition my hair before moving on to shaving my legs. The steam helps to relax me more, but my mind is not helping.

Maybe he really did just want to have sex a few times then call it quits? Or maybe he is just looking for a friends with benefits relationship? Or would it be pack-mate with benefits?

By the time I get out of the shower, get dressed, and am combing my hair, my brain is still going over every single aspect of our 'relationship'.

As I drag the comb through my hair one final time I look at the clock and see that it's midnight. Deciding to call it a night, I turn the lights off and crawl into bed.

My pajamas are little more than underwear and a thin tank top, so without the covers I'm freezing but with them I'm somehow burning up. I wiggle around until I decide to keep one leg out of the covers and one in.

I try to sleep again once the cover dilemma is solved, but then I'm faced with the blatant silence of the house. I stare off at the ceiling for what feels like hours, but when I look at the clock it's just been 20 minutes.

After ten more minutes of not being able to sleep, I grab my phone, walk over to the iHome, and set up Pandora to play ambient radio. A song comes on that sounds like it belongs in one of those amazing Asian spas and I know that this will definitely help me relax.

I jump back in bed and find the perfect spot, arrange my covers, and fluff my pillows. I nestle in and force myself to think of nothing.

Which of course leads me to consciously thinking to think nothing. Which then makes my head hurt.

I grab a pillow and cover my head with it, as if that will somehow magically help me block out everything and every thought and let me sleep. When that doesn't work, I uncover my head and look over at the clock to see that it's just past 1:00 in the morning.

I let out a frustrated groan and just stare up at the skylight above my bed. The stars at least give me something pretty to look at. I even have a good view of the moon, which just reminds me of Derek again.

In the distance, I can hear a loud engine and I immediately recognize the low growl of Derek's Camaro. After a few moments of listening, I hear it grow closer and closer until it pulls into my driveway. The engine shuts off, I hear the door open and close, and for a moment I think I've locked the front door, but then I hear him open it so clearly I forgot again.

"You awake?" he asks at a normal volume.

My stomach feels fluttery and I contemplate whether or not to answer him. In the end, I give in. "Yes." I then hear his boots slowly begin walking towards the stairs and then up them.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" I hear the tiniest bit of humor in his voice.

I smile to myself, this is the side of Derek I like. "I couldn't sleep, I have too much on my mind."

"Like?" his boots reach the middle of the stairs and I know he'll be in here soon.

I take a moment's pause before answering, "I went to see my car, and I thought it would help. It didn't." I give him a second to take that in before adding, "And then there's you." As soon as I say that I remember that I'm supposed to be mad at him, but the reason isn't quite so clear anymore.

I sit up as I hear him reach the top of the stairs. "I keep you up at night?" he asks with an unfamiliar smug tone in his voice.

He reaches my door and opens it smoothly, stopping in the door briefly. I shrug, "Maybe just this once." He smirks for a second and I smile back, but as I look at him standing there in my doorway, something made the air suddenly heavy. Derek must feel it too because both of our smiles slowly fade.

" You were drunk, you got in the car, you crashed, now you're here. How in fuck's name does it matter how it got to be this way? The police will arrest him and find out whatever to fuck happened so what does it matter?"

" It matters. "

Our voices echo in my head and the same thing is probably happening to him because he suddenly looks unusually uncomfortable. A big part of me wants an apology, but the rest of me realizes that Derek's not the kind of person to give out apologies. My mother wasn't, either.

But his being here has to mean something.

He finally takes a few steps into my room. "I have a guy that might be able to help with your memory," he says calmly, "tomorrow night I have a meeting set up."

I just nod in an attempt to keep myself from killing him with questions. "I want to come too."

Derek looks at me for a second, as if weighing the implications of taking me along. "Fine." He says as he walks closer to the stairs leading down to my bed.

Absent mindedly, I push the covers off my legs and, being as nonchalant as I can manage, I scoot down the bed just the slightest bit, hoping he doesn't notice.

With the smirk that crosses his face, he definitely noticed.

He continues to approach the bed and deciding that my grace is all but lost, I sit up on my knees and slowly make my way to the foot of the bed.

We reach the end of the bed at almost the exact same time. He looks down at me and I can barely make out the green of his irises. He leans in and stares into my eyes as his lips come ever closer to mine.

Our lips meet and the kiss that follows is long, slow, and utterly intoxicating. I slowly bring my hands up and run them up over his chest and around his neck. Suddenly, Derek breaks the kiss and looks down at me through dilated eyes, "Goodnight, Avery." He whispers quietly before kissing my forehead and backing out of my embrace.

Chapter Text


I sit there on my knees at the end of the bed as I watch Derek give me a small smile with a ghost of a smirk mixed in with it. His eyes hold mine for a long, slow moment as he backs out towards the stairs, turns, and leaves my room, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaving me with my thoughts.

When I hear the front door open and the lock turn before he pulls it closed behind him, I let out a breath I absent mindedly had been holding. I sit back on the bed, allowing my knees a rest.

What the hell was that?

I mean, what the hell was that?

I look up through the skylight and stare at the stars as I fall back against my bed.

So far, all we've done is hook up a few times.

But that's the thing; we are just two people who hook up sometimes.

What he did was not what a simple fuck buddy does. A fuck buddy does not show up at your house to apologize to you for hurting your feelings and kiss you goodnight.

With pretty much no experience in this area even I know a fuck buddy would come over, maybe apologize in that sarcastic way where they still don't believe they were in the wrong, and expect everything to just go back to normal, and you know, fuck.

Something has changed.

But then, if something has changed, then what are we? Are we more than 'packmates with benefits' or are we done with the 'with benefits' part?

Is this just a fling to him or could it be more? Or an even more immediate question, is this just a fling to me?

I cover my face with my hands and realize that I won't be getting much sleep tonight.

I spend a few hours just staring up at the stars above, thinking about Derek's eyes, smile, and his straight face. I think about his muscles and his strength as well as his quickness.

I fall asleep thinking about him, still intensely confused about where I stand with him.

The next morning I wake up to the angry sound of my phone alarm going off. I let out a sigh as I turn the alarm off and climb out of bed. I decide today is more of a comfort day, so I throw on some running shorts and a loose fitting athletic shirt.

Within twenty minutes I've brushed my teeth, smoothed out my hair, grabbed my lacrosse bag and backpack and flung them both into my car before climbing behind the wheel.

When I get to school I park my car as best I can and head into the school.

I see Tori on my way to my locker and we have a short conversation I barely remember. She went on and on about the new guy, but I was too focused on the end of the day to really listen.

The entire day slowly trudges by and I desperately try to set my focus on listening to my classes, especially anatomy since apparently the teacher has decided to have a test next week on epithelial tissue and I'm not even sure what that is.

In third period I got a text from Derek reading:

Go home after school, we're coming over around 9, going out tonight.

I stared down at the text, dumbfounded. Who is 'we'? Is this a date? I have no idea what to expect. Where are 'we' going anyway? I could text him and ask, but I didn't want to seem too eager after the way he left last night.

I text back:

Alright, sounds good.

When the end of the day finally did come, I was so relieved. I had been playing over Derek's voice over and over and over again all damn day. It would be a blessing to go out to practice and just use my body instead of my brain.

It's a short walk from my last class to the locker room, and once I'm there I feel like I'm home. The girls all shout and greet me as I walk in. Obviously the first week jitters is slowly fading and they're getting closer to one another. That's always a good thing, but I wonder just how many of these younger girls are going to end up on the varsity team for good.

A lot of times, the older girls embrace the younger ones in the beginning, but when the younger ones take the starting spots from the older ones, things tend to get competitive and the whole team bonding thing gets thrown out the window.

I open my locker and begin stripping down, when I catch Cassie's voice whispering in the far corner of the locker room. She's complaining to another girl about how she should have been made captain, and frankly I agree with her. I've never been a leader, I'm a good player, but being good doesn't mean I'd make a good leader.

I continue changing as I listen to Cassie essentially rip my authority to shreds. I make a mental note to deal with that mess later, in private.

Within a few minutes I'm all dressed, I grab my stick and bag from my locker and start heading towards the door. "Alright!" I call out, catching everyone's attention, "Everyone meet out on the practice field, be there in 10 or we're starting without you!" In the corner of the room, I see Cassie roll her eyes and turn away.

Once on the practice field, we go through our usual stretches and everything is fine. We break into partner passing and something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye.

Stepping out onto the stadium field is the boy's team, but up on the hill looking down right at me is Jake. In an instant, I'm consumed with anxiety. I feel like I can't breathe, I feel like I'm not safe. I turn back to my partner and toss her back the ball, hoping I can work through this horrible feeling in my gut.

My partner, Lola the goalie, follows where my gaze had been staring off to and she also catches sight of Jake. She must've realized what I was feeling because she turned back without a word and quickly passed me back the ball. We went back and forth, back and forth, in an almost quick stick pattern. She was trying to distract me by throwing herself into the motion, just as I was. It worked, and I was never more thankful for Lola's quiet, observant, and understanding nature.

Within five minutes, Coach Hathaway is on the scene, splitting us up into offense and defense and running us through basic 2 offenders on 1 defender drills.

Being the captain and being one of the most experienced defenders, I went first on defense. Luckily enough, Cassie was one of the offenders going first. I smirk to myself when I see that her partner is one of the newbies.

I hold my stick upright between my hands as I bend my knees and position myself to cut off Cassie, who has the ball. Hathaway blows the whistle, and Cassie and her partner take off running towards me. "Got ball!" I call out as I start moving my feet, not wanting to be caught off guard when Cassie passes. She must know better than to go one on one with me.

As Cassie keeps coming toward me, I notice she doesn't even look at her partner, she fully expects to get by me. I smirk again and step up to close the distance between us. She turns her back to me, and tries to roll off my right, but I'm on her too quickly. She tries to spin off my left, but I'm right with her again.

It's always funny to see the 'dumb offenders', always thinking they can do it alone.

She tries one more time to roll off my right, and I notice she dropped her stick head a little too low. As I've done 100 times before, I swoop around and check the ball right out of her stick and run. By the time she knows what's happened, I'm way past midfield and Hathaway blows the whistle.

When I turn around, I notice that Cassie's partner, one of the freshmen, I think her name is April, had set herself up in a good spot near Lola. She was too far out for Lola to intercept a pass, but close enough to fire off a good shot if she had been passed the ball. As far as her mental game goes, she knows how to set up an offensive play. I make a mental note to compliment her on it later.

I hear the girls cheer a bit for me, but my focus is on Cassie's frustrated face. Showing her up wasn't my intention, but she is getting on my nerves. Talking shit about me to my own team and then trying to show me up solo is just stupid.

Practice went by too fast for my liking, I had just gotten into my comfort zone on the field when Hathaway blew the whistle and dismissed us from practice. I quickly gathered my things and headed back to the locker room.

Once back in the locker room, I made eye contact with Cassie for a brief moment before she turned away, looking frustrated and emotional. I roll my eyes. One thing that bothers me about girls is that we can never leave things on the field.

With guys, they can slam each other around on the field all day long and when they walk off the field it's done. Yet just switch up sex parts and we simply cannot get over being bested.

I change as fast as I can and leave the locker room, stopping at my school locker to pick up my school bag and finally head out to my car. From there, I was homebound.

A Few Hours Later

I comb out my nearly dry hair as I look down at my anatomy textbook, reading through the different types of epithelial tissue. I quickly check my phone for the time and see that it's almost 6:00. The anticipation is killing me, and I feel the sudden need to get up and move.

I decide to pick up my tv dinner tray and take it down stairs to toss out. Walking in the quiet, empty house still feels weird, I haven't gotten used to it yet. I open the trash can and toss the plastic tray inside. Suddenly, the quiet is broken by the sound of knocking at the door.

My heart races a bit, it's too early for Derek. I listen closely, "Hey Avery!" I hear Isaac's voice call to me from behind the door. I instantly relax, "Come in!" I call back, knowing that even through the house and the heavy wooden front door, he would be able to hear me.

On que, Isaac and Erica walk through the front door and I meet them in the foyer. Isaac greets me with a warm smile. He's wearing the usual black leather jacket I'm accustomed to seeing him in, with a deep blue t-shirt underneath and a dark wash jeans. "Hey, Ave."

Erica closes the door behind them, and comes to stand next to Isaac. She was dressed in a deep red body-con dress that hugged every curve on her impressive body. Over the dress she wore a similar leather jacket, though it was clearly cut for a woman's shape. She gave a subtle nod to me before she started looking around my house, as if inspecting it.

"So, this is the place, huh?" She says. I nod and give a small smile.

"Yeah, this is it." I try to think of something else to say, "Oh, hey, there's an indoor pool in the back, we should go swimming sometime." Isaac's eyes widened in excitement before Erica chimed in:

"I hope you like the smell of wet dog then." She said in a teasing voice as she walked past me and further into the house. Isaac just rolls his eyes and he follows Erica's lead as she walks through my living room. "Nice." She says, not sounding too impressed.

I just nod as Erica turns back to me after her inspection of my living room. "Why are you guys here anyway?" I ask as I lean against the living room wall.

Isaac gives a smug smirk, "We're here to get you ready." Erica looks me up and down with a dissatisfied look on her face at my athletic shorts and baggy lacrosse pennie on.


Erica's eyebrow perks up, and her red coated lips pull back into a wide smile that she's never shown me. "We're going to the Blackmore." Her voice is almost like a purr, and I can't help but be worried about what could have Erica in such a good mood.

"What's that?" I ask dumbly.

Isaac throws and arm around my shoulder and sings in my ear, "The clu-uu-uubbb!" the room goes silent for a second and Erica just stares blankly at Isaac as if saying "Really?" Isaac clears his throat and straightens himself up in an embarrassed fashion before he clutches my shoulders in his hands and steers me down the hall. "Now let's get you sex'd up."

Behind us, I hear Erica let out a both obnoxious and amused laugh.

Chapter Text


"No, no, no, definitely not." Isaac says as he looks me up and down. Erica, from her spot lounging on my bed, looks up and snorts out a laugh as she looks at me.

"What? What's wrong with it?" I ask, looking down at the green dress I have on. It's loose and comfortable. The dress ends just about mid-thigh, the neckline is low cut, but not too low, and the back is nice and open.

"Have you ever been to a club before?" Erica asks, probably in a rhetorical fashion. I answer her anyway.

"…" I say, trying to ignore the obvious humor she finds in the situation.

"To be fair, Erica," Isaac calls from my bathroom as he looks it over, "you always look like you're going to the club." He finishes with a quick smile in her direction as he steps out of my bathroom. Erica just shrugs, satisfied with his assessment.

"Do you have anything black?" Isaac asks

"And tight?" Erica adds.

"And short?" Isaac finishes.

"Yeah, um, not really." I say.

"Do you have any leggings, or preferably tights?" Erica asks.

"Nope." I say plainly.

"Ugh, you're boring." Erica says bluntly. She gets up and pushes past me and into my closet. "Oh my god this all looks like you're on your way to eat lunch on a golf course." I bite my tongue. "Actually…wait." Erica pulls a deep blue dress off the rack and walks out with it.

It's basically a bodycon deep blue turtle neck dress that's been in my closet for two years without being worn once. "And that doesn't seem too prude-ish for you?" I ask her.

"Oh it definitely needs work. We're going to cut the fuck out of this neckline." I sigh and agree.

I nod for a second but then realize that Erica hasn't been openly hostile towards me for a while now. "Wait, why are you helping me?" I ask her.

Her lip curls at the side and her eyebrows shoot up as if she's stating the obvious: "Because I can't be seen with someone who looks like they're on their way to meet their parents at brunch." I look down at the loose green dress and decide that if I was wearing a pair of cork wedges and a designer bag, she'd be right.

A Couple Hours Later


I pull up in the driveway and put my car in park just behind Avery's Hummer. Boyd gets out of the passenger seat and follows me towards the front door. "Isaac?" I say in a normal tone, knowing he'd hear me.

"Yeah, I'm coming." I open the door and see Isaac on his way down the stairs. "They're almost done." He says as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and heads towards the kitchen, "I'm starving." I look up towards Avery's room and see Erica begin down the stairs wearing her usual tight clothing and dark makeup.

I follow Isaac through the house but opt to sit on the couch and wait till Avery comes down. I rub my forehead and lay back against the couch, closing my eyes as Isaac attempts at raiding Avery's empty pantry and fairly empty freezer. Once this is done I'll finally be able to fully focus on tracking the alpha, and if Avery recovers her memory then she may be able to help make that all the easier, depending on whether or not she got a good look at him.

Erica comes into the living room and leans against the wall, and she begins her usual mocking of Isaac, who complains about Avery not having anything decent to eat.

"So I guess we're taking my car," I hear Avery say from the doorway, I look up and freeze in place, "cuz I don't think we're all going to fit into your car." Her hair is down in loose waves, as if it's cascading down her shoulders. Her eye shadow is different shades of brown and gold, accenting her tanned skin and contrasting the blue of her eyes perfectly. Her lips are full and covered in a peachy pink, once again contrasting her darker skin and making her look flawless.

I look her up and down, taking in her attire. She wears a pair of black high heeled boots that come up to her ankle. She wears a ripped up pair of fishnets that I assume are Erica's, and a deep blue skin tight dress that makes her blue eyes practically burn through me. To top it all off, her breasts are practically bulging out of the low, low neckline of the dress, and the sight practically makes me growl when Isaac and Boyd enter the room and Boyd looks her over.

Realizing that she is still waiting for a reply, I clear my throat and push myself off of the couch. "Yeah, we're taking yours." I brush past her, forcing myself not to look back at her ass as I pass her.

"I'm driving!" She calls after me as they all follow.

"You don't know where we're going." I call back as I come to a stop just in front of her car. Erica, Isaac, and Boyd all crowd into the backseat, bickering about who has to sit in the middle. I fight to keep my eyes from taking in the sight of her again.

"You seem distracted," she says smugly, knowing that she is the cause, "alright, you drive." She gave me a wink before she brushed by me, leaving me with a wind of her delicious scent. I feel my canines begging to sink into her.

I shake my head once and roll my shoulders, trying to get control back. I get into the car and try my best to keep my gaze on the road as we set off for Blackmore.

Not even one minute into the drive Avery puts the windows down, sending her hair flying everywhere, but more importantly her scent. My teeth try to escape their sheathes once again. She turns the music up louder, causing Isaac to start singing along like a fool.

"With her wine-stained lips, yeah she's nothing but trouble
Cold to the touch but she's warm as a devil
I gave all my heart but she won't heal my soul
She tasted a break and I can't get more

You got me in chains, you got me in chains for your love
But, I wouldn't change, no I wouldn't change this love
You got me chains, you got me in chains for your love
But, I wouldn't change, no I wouldn't change this love

Tryin'a break the chains but the chains only break me"

I practically growl at the lyrics and almost reach over to turn the music off, but my eyes catch sight of Avery crossing and uncrossing her fishnet-clad legs. Her muscular legs are somehow emphasized by the netting. My gaze lingers too long and every muscle in my body goes rigid.

I look up and see her eyes on me, her lips barely curled at the ends.

"Alone in the night 'til she knocks on my door
Oh no, wasted again but I can't say no
Baby tell me why, why you do, do me wrong
Baby tell me why, why you do, do me wrong
Gave you my heart but you took my soul

You got me in chains you got me in chains for your love
But, I wouldn't change, no I wouldn't change this love
You got me chains, you got me in chains for your love
But, I wouldn't change ,no I wouldn't change this love

Tryin'a break the chains but the chains only break me."


"Are we there yet?" I ask. "It's been like an hour and a half, we're not even in Beacon anymore. Is this even your territory?"

"It's a crossroads. This is no one's territory." Derek answers briefly. "We'll be there in 3…2…1." He turns off the main road and into the parking lot of a tiny bar. The purple neon sign reads "Blackmore."

"This is it?" I ask as he pulls into a parking space in the crowded parking lot.

"Just wait till you're inside." Isaac says.

We all get out and approach the bar Derek quickly takes the lead, leaving me to lead up the rear. "When you get to the bouncer, show your eyes." Boyd says to me.

I nod slightly. I'm definitely confused, but don't want to make a big thing out of it. Flashing my clearly not human eyes to a human seems like a bad plan.

Derek steps up to the massive bouncer and his eyes go blood red. The bouncer nods and Derek slips into the club. Instead of a door, there hangs dozens of thin strips of red velvet. Isaac, Erica and Boyd all follow suit, and I do the same. The massive man nods for me to enter after I show my eyes, and my level on confusion only grows.

That is, until I step inside.

The inside is enormous. The ceiling is so high it feels like I'm in a cathedral. The place is dark, the only light coming from the constantly color-changing dance floor in the center of the place. There's a second level where people are looking down over the railing. The place is absolutely stuffed to the brim with people.

And every single one of them either has glowing eyes or some kind of animalistic feature on them.

I see a couple red eyes; alphas. Crowded around the alphas are gold betas, and icy blue eyes. What did the blue ones mean? Were those not werewolves?

Others have purple eyes, and burning orange ones. Few have what seems like translucent skin. This place is a supernatural hot spot.

Once I realize this, I bring out my eyes and follow my pack through the crowd. Once we reach one of the tables lining the perimeter of the club we stop and Derek seems to be looking for something. His blood red eyes lock onto something in one of the distant booths that are in the far back corners of the place.

"Stay here; try not to get yourselves killed." He says to us as he heads towards whatever his eyes locked onto.

I barely hear him over the booming music, which is a strange form of electronic dance music. Erica immediately pulls Boyd out onto the dance floor and we quickly lose sight of them. "Are you okay?" Isaac asks me.

I nod, "Yeah, yeah, you should go dance!" I try to yell over the music.

"Are you sure?" He asks "I can stay if you want!"

"Yeah, no, go ahead!" I say, trying to keep my eyes on Derek as he moves through the crowd towards a woman in the farthest booth with glowing purple eyes.

Isaac nods and wades though the people to find Erica and Boyd, and I keep my eyes locked onto Derek as he slips into the circular booth right beside the woman, who greets him with a kiss.

On the lips.


"Darling, it's been too long." Zira says in her usual purr. She leans in and kisses me. She tastes just the same as she always has; like lilac and vanilla.

Something in my gut stirs uneasily at the kiss, something that's never happened before.

I push it from my mind. "So, what brings you crawling back to me now?" she asks as she brushes a blood red curl from her face and tucks it back up into her updo.

"I need witch's root." I answer bluntly.

Zira lets out a snort as she takes a sip of her drink. "Who are you trying to raise from the dead? I trust you remember from our last discussion that the body must be in one piece, at the very least. Your sister cannot be revived."

"It doesn't matter who I'm trying to raise. Can you help me or not?" Zira looks me over with her purple eyes.

"Sure, I can help. Are you doing a permanent raising or a temporary one?"


"Then darling you want oak cloves, not witch's root. With witch's root they'll be up and walking for the rest of their normal life span."

"How long will they be up with oak cloves?"

"Depends, could be a day, could be as much as a week." I grind my teeth at the thought.

Zira reaches over and places her hand on my leg, "I have some in the back room," she nods towards the heavy door just in front of the booth on the wall, "I can give it to you right now." She licks her lips, "Come with me, won't you?"

She slips out of the booth and holds her slender hand out to me. I take it and let her lead me into the back room. With every step, my legs feel heavier and heavier.


I watch Derek and the beautiful woman slip through the doorway, her leading him by the hand and playing the part of the seductress perfectly.

I stare at the door, my gaze hollow and empty. I expect myself to wolf out any second, but I don't. I don't feel angry, I don't feel sad. I feel empty.

Something had changed that night when he said goodnight and left me in my room, completely untouched. Something had changed, and I couldn't figure it out.

So that was him ending it, calling it off.

And now he's in that back room fucking her. She was certainly beautiful, though I'm not really sure what the fuck she is, she's lovely. In her black velvet top and leather pants she seems to be the epitome of dark supernatural lust.

I snap out of my daze to see a man with icy blue eyes walking towards me, a smirk on his handsome face.

I feel the wolf in me stir, reveling in the lusty look of the stranger approaching. I feel my canines protruding through my gums as the echo of a primal instinct begins to take hold, pulling me towards him.

If Derek can have fun tonight, then so will I.


As soon as she shuts the door behind me, Zira pushes me against the wall, her lips on mine before I could even take a breath. Her hands force my leather jacket off my shoulder and she immediately jumps and latches her legs around my hips. I catch her and hold her there as she kisses and nips at my neck.

I stare up at the ceiling as I feel her hot mouth sucking at my skin. Is this cheating? Avery and I never made anything official, so it can't be.

But I would rip apart anyone before I let them sleep with her. So wouldn't she feel the same?

My stomach churns uneasily worse than before. She feels wrong. Her body feels wrong against mine, like a puzzle piece that doesn't fit. I try to hold it in, but a gag forces itself out of my throat. Zira immediately stops and looks down at me with analytical eyes.

I gag again and I set her down as I gag again, and again, and again. "Ohhhh, this is rich." She says as she watches me.

"What the-" I gag again, "fuck did you do?!"

Zira laughs, "Me? I did nothing. This is something else. Something I thought would never happen to you. You're imprinting. You've found a mate haven't you? Was it the blonde you came in with? The brunette? Neither? Please tell me you haven't fallen for another Mundie; that always ends poorly."

I take a few deep breaths and feel myself regaining control. "What was that?"

"Has no one given you the talk? You've found a mate."

I lean against the wall and run a hand over my face, "So, what? I can't have sex with anyone besides..?" Avery.

Zira gives a disappointed look, "Well that's not a very romantic question, is it? You will, after you've imprinted. It's a defense mechanism, in a way. You wolves imprint on one true mate, you can have sex with anyone you like afterwards, but when you're imprinting you're theirs. It's a way to keep you from getting confused. Your inner wolf won't let you couple with anyone else. I swear; this is why you should've kept me around. A witch comes in handy sometimes."

I stare up at the ceiling, absorbing her words. "What was it you needed? Oak cloves?" Zira walked to a far shelf where all her alchemy ingredients were stored and plucked a jar off the shelf. "The really interesting thing is that only alphas imprint. So your girl won't be feeling any of this. So I suggest you lock her down quickly. I once knew a wolf whose 'mate' left him for some Mundie before he was done imprinting. Poor bastard couldn't even touch a woman without throwing up. And that was for the rest of his life." She walks back and hands it to me with a smirk on her face.

"You seem entertained by this." I say, grabbing my jacket from the ground.

"I am." She says smugly. "When you live this long, nothing else quite entertains like the games of the heart, especially other people's hearts." I nod once as I slip my jacket back on and put the jar into my pocket.

I turn to leave and pause, "How do I…finish imprinting?"

"Trust me when I say that you'll figure it out. Some things come naturally." I nod.

"Thank you." I say as I pull the door open.

"Be seein' ya." She says. I step out into the booming club and scan the place where I left my pack. Finding no sign of any of them, I look out through the dance floor.


"Care for a dance?" the man asks, the lights glint off of his white canines. Numbly, I take his hand and let him lead me onto the dance floor. As soon as we reach the middle he lets spins me around and pulls me against him. I feel his body against my back and it feels…bad.

I close my eyes and pretend its Derek behind me, grabbing my hips and holding me against him. I pretend he's here with me and not in some closet with a beautiful woman who he kissed on the lips. Hot breath pours over my neck as the music slows down a bit and he pulls me harder against his hips.

I see Erica through the crowd, her eyes are on me and a smile plays at her lips as Boyd bites at her neck. Everything in me is numb, and I feel my teeth and claws come out as I move against the man behind me. Derek.


There, in the middle of everything, I spot Avery dancing against a blue eyed beta. Before I even notice myself moving I'm pushing through the dance floor filled with betas. None of them challenge me as I push through them.

When I reach them I let out a growl that even I don't recognize. I grab him by his neck and throw him down on the ground I lean over him and roar into his face. I watch as his canines shrink into gums and his eyes return to a muggy brown.

I stand back up to find the entire floor of betas staring, though they quickly turn their gaze when I look around at them. Not one alpha in the dark corners of the room makes a move to defend the beta.

Avery's golden eyes are wide, but she seems receptive to the message I sent. I turn and walk towards the shadows of the far wall, knowing that she's following me.

When we reach the isolated wall she leans back against the wall and I stand in front of her. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What the fuck were you doing?" she spits back. "What the fuck are we, Derek? Are we dating? Are we just fuck buddies? I mean what the fuck are we?"

I grind my teeth together and punch the wall beside her head, "We are more than fucking fuck buddies." I growl. "You're mine."

She shakes her head, "Only if you're mine too." She spits back.

My teeth ache to sink into her.

"Trust me when I say that you'll figure it out. Some things come naturally."

I lean down and crush my lips against hers, giving into my instincts and letting go. She kisses back with an equal force. I grab her under her ass and lift her up, pushing her against the wall. I can't help but notice how perfect she feels in my arms. Her weight is perfect, her curves fit against me like we were built together, but somehow got separated.

My instincts completely take over, and my hands push her dress up around her hips, just low enough to keep her from being exposed. I push her thong to the side. She fumbles at my belt and jeans but she has me out in a matter of seconds.

I push myself into her in one thrust and she moans. Her golden eyes flare up brighter than before. My canines throb worse than before and I sink them into her neck as I thrust into her repeatedly.

The music booms all around us, disguising any sounds we make, and the shadows keep us mostly hidden, and even if they didn't we were beyond caring at this point.

I don't last long, she's too hot and tight for me to last long, and we don't have the time for it anyway. I finish deep inside her, deep enough that it'll still be seeping out of her tomorrow.

I finally release my bite from her neck, and for a moment, I see her eyes flare up red before the red circles in her eyes and slowly fades away, leaving her familiar golden gaze staring back at me in a lustful daze.

The bodies sway back and forth everywhere in the club, but we keep perfectly still, neither one of us knowing how to respond to what just happened. And neither one of us wanting whatever it was to end.

Chapter Text


I throw the lacrosse ball at the bricks of my house. It hits with a thud and heads straight back at me, allowing me to catch it, switch hands, and repeat the action in a fluid motion. I’ve been at this for hours, just throwing and catching, throwing and catching.

Right now, I’m just going through the motions, my mind is definitely not here.

It’s stuck in last night. It just keeps replaying everything from the incident at the club to later at Derek’s house. I cringe at the thought, forcing me to close my eyes for just a brief enough second to have the ball come hit me in the face and go rolling down the hill that is my driveway. I sigh before turning around and sprinting down the hill, scooping it up and cradling it a few times before coming back to my spot at the wall.

My lower abs begin to cramp, and I breathe a sigh of relief. After catching the ball one final time, I walk over to my front porch steps and sit down, holding my stick out in front of me and playing with the ball in the net.


After the club last night, we drove to Erika’s house, where both Boyd and Erika got out, anything they said or grumbled about us leaving the club so soon I’ve forgotten. Then we dropped Isaac off at his house, too. When I saw him head into the darkened, empty house I briefly thought about how he didn’t have anyone to come home to either, just like I don’t.

After all that, I told Derek to go to the local CVS, he didn’t ask why and I didn’t offer an explanation. I don’t think either one knew how to address the other after what had just happened not an hour earlier. It wasn’t the sex that had freaked us out- it was the shit that had come out of our mouths before that.

“You’re mine.”

“Only if you’re mine too.”

I shake my head, trying to somehow erase that from my thoughts. I mean, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? I don’t think either one of us knew how to begin to talk about that, so we were quiet the entire way.

Once we got there, I went inside and quickly found my way to the feminine care aisle. Looking through the little square boxes, I found one that read ‘Plan B.’ I grabbed it and turned it over to look at the information. It said that taking it within 72 hours after unprotected sex was the most effective time frame, so I figured that within 2 hours should be pretty damn fantastic. It was only when I was turning to walk to the cash register when I noticed Derek standing next to me. Even with heightened senses it’s damn near impossible to pick him up, it’s probably an alpha thing. He gave me his eyebrow-up ‘what are you doing?’ kind of look. I held up the box to him.

“What?” I asked, pushing by him, “I don’t want to end up on ‘Teen Mom’.”

After I had paid and we’d gotten back in the car, Derek started driving again, to what I assumed would be my house to drop me off and pick up his car and go home. I opened the water I’d bought and took the medication, hoping it’d work and save me from the stupidity that had apparently become my life. When Derek missed the turn off for my road, I looked over to him, “You missed the turn.”

“We need to talk.”

I bit my lip, “I have school tomorrow.”

“I don’t care.”

My temper flared up, “Is there anything you do care about?” He looked over to me then, with a seriousness in his eyes.

“Yes.” I slouched back in my seat and within a few minutes we were at his house. He got out of the car and walked casually inside. I hesitated to even unbuckle my seat belt. I eventually did so, and stepped out of the car. I followed slowly, taking my time with each step. The woods were dark all around me as I followed, I could hear the crickets chirping from all around, I could hear a stream in the background, the faint breeze rustling the trees and causing leaves to fall; I could hear everything.

The darkness was shattered when Derek flipped on the porch light and then the living room light from within. I stopped following and just looked in for a moment. Inside, Derek took off his jacket and threw it onto the couch as he headed for the kitchen. I could hear him open a fridge door and grab a bottle out of the fridge. I could hear him open it and take a large drink, I could hear him swallow and then I heard him speak, “You know we have to talk.” He walked into the doorway of the kitchen where I could see him through the thin fabric of the old white lace curtains.

I take a deep breath and continue walking to the porch. “Who was that woman?” I ask as I reach the bottom of the porch.

“A witch I do business with when necessary.” He answers clearly.

“What kind of business?” I climb the first step.

“If I need information or ingredients for wards or formulas I go to her.”

“Formulas?” I reach for the door knob. Before I can turn it, the door is opened for me. Derek stands there looking down at me with his green eyes.

“I prefer saying formulas to potions. It sounds less like fantasy.” Derek backs away from the door and I enter slowly. I want him to think that I’ll leave any minute. Maybe if he thinks that then he’ll be honest and clear.

“What were you doing in that back room with her?” His jaw sets and he looks away. I shake my head briefly and take a step towards the still open door. In a flash, Derek shuts it and steps in front of it. I bring my claws out and lace my right hand around the front of his neck, my claws pricking him in warning. “Witches control the monopoly on the magical ingredients and information trade; they can ask whatever price they want. Zira and I have had an agreement for a few years now.”

“You’re having sex with her as a form of payment?” Derek nodded his head to the side, ceding to the question as a true statement.

“I never cared before-”

“You didn’t care tonight.” I growled, my grip tightening, causing little blood drops to pool at my claw tips. “You still went in that room with her, you still didn’t care. Don’t give me that bullshit.” He looked me in the eyes, as calm as ever.

“Before, it was just paying a debt, I never minded the lay I got out of it either, I’m a man, Avery. I never cared. Tonight, I went in there planning on doing the same thing. But I couldn’t. I started gagging, I felt like I’d been poisoned just touching her.” He reached up and gently pulled my hand away from his throat. “I didn’t know what was happening at first, it’s been so long since I’d heard about it, not since…a long time ago.” He sighed in frustration and I could tell his words weren’t coming out how he wanted. “I didn’t leave that room for the right reason, I know that, but…” he sighs again, getting more and more frustrated. He gently wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. His other hand still held my claws hand midair, and I made sure it stayed there. I wasn’t willing to put the claws away yet. He looked me dead in the eye. “You’re my mate.” He said bluntly.

“Your mate?” I echo in angry disbelief. I almost pull away from him completely and walk out the door.

His face softened as his eyes roamed over my face. “It’s not that hard to believe is it?” His grip grew a little firmer. “You felt it too, I know you did.” He says in a husky whisper. He moves in to whisper in my ear, “You can’t tell me you didn’t feel the pull. You let me fuck you in the middle of the place, where everyone could see.” His teeth brushed against my ear, making me close my eyes and shiver the slightest bit. “This attraction between us is primal,” his mouth hovered over my neck, his breath poured over me and filling me with warmth and a willingness to accept him for a second time that night.

I pushed him off me hard enough for him to hit the wall behind him. I brought my claws back up to his neck. “No.” He looked at me with surprise in his eyes at the rejection. “We’re not doing that again tonight. I came here to talk. You said we’d talk.” He hesitated a moment before giving me a small nod.

“You’re right.” He sighed and reached his hand out towards my cheek, brushing it lightly.


I lay back against the concrete of my porch, rubbing my face with my hands. After a few minutes I stand up, grab my stick and head inside. I go up to my room and toss my stick on my bed before heading into my bathroom and checking my tampon and pad. Still bleeding. I grab a new tampon from the box and quickly pull the other out.


I withdrew from him to go sit on the couch in the living room. “So we’re mates?” I ask bluntly.

He nodded once, still in his spot in the foyer. “I sealed it once I bit you earlier.”

I shook my head at him, “You couldn’t have asked first?”

“I…didn’t consider it.”

“You didn’t consider maybe asking first?” He looked at me for a long moment.

Derek looked around his house as if he were seeing it for the first time, “You ever wonder why I live in a half burned down house in the middle of the woods?” I looked around the place and thought for a moment, “I just thought you liked to be alone.”

“My family lived here years ago. I made a dumb mistake and they died because of it.”

“They died?” I echoed. Derek gives me a look that held guilt and shame. His eyes had darkened and his brow wrinkled as he finally moved from his space in the foyer. He came to stand before me and I looked up at him from the couch.

“Avery,” he said, lowering himself so that he was looking me in the eye. His hands came to rest on each of my shins, and his fingers gently brushed my muscles, “I promise I’ll tell you the full story,” his eyes were sad and pleading, “but not tonight.”

“Derek, if this is going to work, I need to know things. You know almost everything about me. You know my parents are divorced, my mom is psycho and kicked me out and my dad is both the figurative and literal definition of distant-”

Derek put his hand on my cheek, “Not tonight.” He said again, not so much as a declaration as it was a request. I looked in his eyes as they roamed over my face, taking in each of my features.

“What are you thinking?” I asked him, suddenly feeling mesmerized by the stroke of his thumb on my cheekbone and the feel of his eyes on me. He leaned in painfully slowly, both of our lips were parted in anticipation and when they finally met, the slowest, softest, and briefest kiss was the result.

In that moment, my heart melted and I realized I’d fallen for Derek Hale. However mysterious he might be, however recluse and withdrawn or stubborn and hot headed, he was right. This was primal. There was a connection that was deep and embedded, and no matter how frustrating it might be, I knew I wanted it.

He pulled away just a bit, just enough to look in my eyes. His gaze was dark, his pupils consuming nearly all of the green that normally surrounded them. I wondered if he’d felt it, too. He leaned back in and once again our lips brushed over each other and locked together. It was slow and deep, just as before. I felt tears well up in my closed eyes. This was something new, something powerful. He drew away from the kiss and I didn’t try to keep him there.

His forehead was pressed against mine, and his hands once again came to my legs and they roamed up and down my thighs, which sent shivers all over my body. It was all too much; there were too many sensations, too many emotions, and god damn it he was too fucking magnetic. I wanted to cling onto him and stay there forever. Which is why I had to go. “Derek, I need some time to think.” I said quietly.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, “Me too.” He slowly peeled himself away from me, as if we were two pieces of Velcro being separated. He stood before me and offered me his hand to help me off the couch.


The cramps in my stomach are piercing; I guess this is what I get for having sex in the middle of a nightclub. A monster period brought on by an atom bomb of hormones known as the plan B pill. I take a deep breath and crawl into my bed.

I have an anatomy quiz tomorrow on the different types of skin tissue. But I can’t bring myself to study, every time I try I just end up thinking of Derek…and that kiss. And then there’s the aching fear that I’m pregnant with his werewolf baby.

But I’m bleeding…so I can’t be pregnant, right? I shove my head under a pillow, knowing full well from all the sex ed classes that just because you’re bleeding doesn’t mean you’re free and clear.

My doorbell rings at that moment and my heart jumps with excitement. Derek told me before I left his house last night he’d be coming by to talk more, and to pick up his Camaro which was still parked in my driveway. In a flash I was downstairs at the door, and just as I was pulling it open, dread filled my stomach. Derek never rings the doorbell. Jake stares back at me from his place on my front porch. I can hear his pulse clear as day and I focus in on his vulnerable neck.

My vision goes blood red

Chapter Text

Author's Note: Hi guys! I'm alive. I'm sorry, life got in the way once again. T_T

Anyway, I suggest going back and catching up if you don't remember where we are. Hopefully I'll be able to post again very soon since this chapter is very short. This chapter doesn't go through a lot but it's more a chapter just to get me back into the story, so hopefully you'll be understanding.

Well, I hope you enjoy :)


Jake stares back at me, pure terror in his eyes. His lip trembles, he's scared to see me. "Avery," he looks me up and down, tears brimming at his eyes, "Avery I'm- I'm so-"

"Go." I force the word out of my fighting lips. My teeth are locked together in a vice grip. If I open them even the slightest, they'll find their way around Jake's neck, I know it. My hand reaches up and grips the doorframe. My nails dig into the wood.

A tear brims over Jake's eyes and rolls down his cheek, I nearly let out a growl watching it. "Please, please go." My face is shifting; I look down at the floor in an attempt at hiding my face.

"Avery," I watch as his hand approaches my cheek, trying to raise my face to look at him. My canines ache to bury themselves into his skin.

"Run," I say, lifting my twisted face to look at him, "or I'm going to kill you." He steps backwards abruptly. He falls back down the steps and lands on the ground looking up at me, horror in his eyes.

I smile and step out of the doorway. My bare feet touch the cool brick of the steps. Jake scrambles backwards and finally manages to stand up. He blinks a few times, hoping to change what he sees. I laugh darkly.

Jake takes off running towards the tree line.

I laugh harder.

The forest was dark and calm, not a cricket dared chirp and not a leaf dared rustle. A heavy fog had fallen to the floor of the woods, just thick enough to be eerie.

All was silent, until the perimeter of the forest was breached. A stumbling figure came sprinting into the fog, running for its life.

The male figure was fast, his eyes glowing gold and his legs carrying him over the exposed tree roots which would've tripped any regular prey up easily. His pursuer was much faster, catching up to him easily, but keeping her distance, toying with her prey.

The fog swirled around their forms and rose up into the air. The moon shone down through the tree tops, casting shadows down onto the hunt.

"You feel it don't you?" she asked, a smile on her lips. "That panic? That fear of death?"

Her voice nipped at his ears, reminding him of how close she was. She weaved through the trees behind him, coming to his left, but then dropping back and approaching from the right. He let out a frustrated growl. His legs couldn't carry him any faster, even with his bestial powers. On the other hand, she barely seemed to be trying.

Her hearing was locked in on his heartbeat, the sound of it made her fangs ache to silence it. She longed for the metallic taste in her mouth, for the snap of bones and the tear of skin.

"I hope you do." She caught his leg and tripped him up. Instead of tearing into him, she kept running. She circled him in the shadows, whipping up the fog all around them.

All he could see were her light red eyes as they watched him.

He rose from his spot on the ground and took a defensive stance. "I HAD TO RUN, I HAD NO CHOICE!" He screamed back at her.

"Coward," she growled as she charged through the fog. Her claws tore at him, but his arm blocked the slash from connecting with his neck. The force of it drove him back and he let out a pained growl. She brought her blood soaked claw to her face, letting her crimson fingers slide down her cheek to her mouth.

She licked at the blood and her body relaxed, "I'm going to kill you, Jake. You know that, don't you?" Jake shook with fear, his vision lost the red tint, and the forest became too dark for him to see. His vision blurred, his throat tightened, grief tore at his heart.

He dropped to his knees. "I'm so sorry," he stared at the light glowing red eyes, "I tried."

"Fuck that," Avery's words came out in a darkened laugh, the tail end of them was a snarl, and her shape once again charged through the fog towards him.

Jake sat on the forest floor, his cowardice once again showing itself to her, which only drove her madness further. As she approached and her features became clearer, Jake felt a rumble rip through the forest.

His eyes widened as a black shadow swallowed Avery's form up and threw her against a tree trunk. The breath was knocked from her and Jake could hear her gasping for air.

The shadow which threw her stood just feet from him. As the shape turned towards him, Jake saw the deep blood red of his eyes, a true alpha for sure, but not the one that he knew.

Avery slowly stood up, "Stay out of this." Her eyes were normal, she was Avery again.

"You're not thinking straight." The voice was deep and careful.

"You're damn right I'm not!" she took a few steps towards the shadow. "I haven't since he-" Avery's finger shot out, pointing towards Jake. Her words broke off, like she'd lost her train of thought. She gripped her head, "No, no, no, I had it," her voice was frustrated.

"Avery, he was chasing us, I couldn't do anything!" Jake cried out. The blood red eyes turned on Jake, widened and angry. They seemed to say Keep quiet, you idiot.

Avery's eyes became the faint red once more and she let out a roar as she came running towards Jake once again. The shadow met her in the middle and braced for her attack. She reached her claws above her head and the shadow caught them.

"Derek," she growled. "Let me kill him. Let me kill him like he killed me."

His grip seemed to loosen. He was thinking. Jake let out a near whimper at the sight. Derek was considering it. His eyes turned once again to Jake.

"I'm sorry." Derek said, his eyes locked onto Jake. Jake's heart dropped. Avery smiled wickedly. Derek turned back to Avery, loosening his grip on her arms.

Just as she was free from his grip, a mysterious shockwave broke through the air from Derek's head toward Avery's.

Her body went completely limp, and as she fell back towards the ground, Derek caught her effortlessly and threw her over his shoulder. His actions were smooth and gentle, his care evident.

Jake thought to make a break for it as Derek turned to leave towards the heart of the forest. "If you don't want to die tonight," he said to Jake, "you'll follow me." He began walking, clearly expecting Jake to follow. "Don't, and I'll wake her up and let her tear you apart."

One Hour Later


I fasten Avery's restraints tightly against the chair arms. Her face is limply resting against her shoulder. The musty air of the basement is thick and heavy, and made no lighter by Jake's presence.

The boy stands awkwardly at the basement steps, ready at any second to run up the steps and out of the house.

"Who turned you?" I ask, turning towards the boy, who watches Avery with a look of sadness. I don't appreciate him looking at her at all.

Jake hesitates. "I don't know. He never shows his face, never told me his name." I resist the urge to snarl slightly.

"You're part of his pack and he's never shown himself to you?" I ask.

"Look, I don't know what he wants from me; he just bit me and told me what I am. I haven't heard from him in a while." I listen to his heartbeat for a lie, but he's being honest.

I ignore his response for now, "When did he bite you?"

Jake takes in a deep breath, "The night of the accident."

I step forward towards him, purposefully making him uncomfortable. "You're going to tell me exactly what happened that night."

Jake looks back with a nervous fear in his eyes, I sense no maliciousness in him, but I dislike him all the same.

Author's Note: I know, I know, I really have to get on with it now. But I think you'll like the next chapter. An old familiar face will be coming back into play soon, and that should be fun. :)

And what's with Avery's red eyes, you ask? Guess you'll just have to wait to have that cleared up :)