Hello all! As mentioned in the summary, this is a rewrite of my Derek/OC story titled Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills. I deleted the original, having taken too long a break and finding it needed to be fixed up. While most of the central plots from the original story remain intact, I've changed a few of the smaller things. If you read the original, Patricia is no longer a cheerleader. Her brothers are now Chase and Clark rather than Chris and Clark, because there were two, too many characters named "Chris" on the dance floor. Hopefully I remain happy with this revised version, because I think it has some potential. Hopefully.
Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills starts off at the first episode ("Wolf Moon") and will go all the way through the series finale. Some things will change along the way, but it'll mostly stick with canon. The first eight chapters will be uploaded today as all I did was revise them, but the rest will come along as I work on different fanfics.
I only own Patricia and her family. The rest is Jeff Davis.
An aside: Her parents look like Jensen and Danneel Ackles (because I love them). Chase and Clark, the twin brothers, look like Dylan and Cole Sprouse (when they were in Just for Kicks). And Patricia looks like a 5'0" Skyler Samuels, starting from the Nine Lives of Chloe King and eventually moving into Scream Queens and The Gifted appearance territory. Visuals are important, after all.
Let me tell you a story. One about a girl. A once ordinary girl, who lived a once ordinary life. But one night, when a full moon reigned the sky, everything changed. And this once ordinary girl discovered nothing is as it seems.
I stare out my bedroom window, looking up at the full moon. Across the street, the light in my best friend's room is still on, though his blinds are closed. Stiles Stilinski has been like a younger brother to me for as long as I can remember, my dad a deputy for his father. He's one of my best friends, my crime-solving partner. He, Scott McCall, and I are an unbreakable trio. Even being two years older than them hasn't separated us. Nor will college, as I'll be attending Beacon University next year on full scholarship. We're a family, and family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.
Downstairs I hear my mom, Marissa Abernathy, yelling at my younger twin brothers. Chase and Clark are the cleverest eight year olds I've ever met, and pretty much consider Stiles to be their hero. They can be rambunctious and a handful, but I love them completely. I also hear my father shouting that he has to leave.
Curious, I leave my room to peer over the third-floor bannister. "Honey, I have to go. Noah just called me in." William Abernathy tells his wife. "Patricia, I'm leaving! I'll see you in the morning! And go to bed on time!" He calls up to me.
"Okay dad! Stay safe!"
"Will do, kid." I wait for him to leave, then run to my room. I wait ten minutes for my dad and Sheriff Stilinski's voices to disappear with their squad car before putting my plan into action.
Grabbing the walkie-talkie I turn it on. "Watson. Watson. Come in Watson."
The other line crackles. "Watson here. Over."
"Dad just left. Over."
"Mine, too, Holmes. Over."
"Pick up Lestrade? Over."
"Damn right. Over." The line shuts off and I do the same, lacing up my converse and pulling on a brown jacket. Grabbing my phone and backpack I rush downstairs, tiptoeing past the kitchen.
"Hold it right there, pumpkin!" I stop and slowly turn, my mother's lawyer face on. "And where do you think you're going?"
"To see Stiles. He's all alone, mom."
She sighs. "You two are inseparable. Are you sure you aren't -"
"Ew, gross, stop!" I order, covering my face. She laughs.
"I'm just kidding. But I'm sure that doesn't tear down his ego." I roll my eyes and nervously brush back my dirty blonde hair.
"So, can I?"
My mom bites her lip, thinking. Her auburn hair looks more red in the dim kitchen light, her light brown eyes staring into my blue. "Fine. But you're dropping the twins off tomorrow. Deal?"
I nod. "Deal. Love you!"
"Love you too, pumpkin!" We both wince as something crashes in the background, the twins immediately arguing. My mom rolls her eyes. "I knew we should have stopped at 1." I laugh and walk out the door, locking it behind me. Crossing the street quickly I knock on the door, my best friend opening it with a smirk.
"What's with the bag, Ricky?"
"Cover story, Sti. Let's get McCall while you tell me what's happening."
"Got it. Get in Roscoe!" He orders and we both duck into his baby blue Jeep, his mother's old car. I peer into my house's windows quickly, but there's no sign of my mother or any of the two snitches. Talking to himself Stiles starts the car, luckily a much louder one tearing down the street at the same time to cover his engine.
"You have got to get that fixed." I tell him.
"Why? Duct tape's working just fine." I laugh as we turn down our street, heading to Scott's. "So, dad got a call a ten minutes ago, then he called your's. Dispatch said they're bringing everyone in - even State Police!"
"Great. How come?" I ask.
"Two joggers found a body in the woods. Half of a body."
"Male or female?"
"Female." I nod, shifting in my seat. "You're not nervous, are you?"
"Well, it could be a serial killer."
"You have got to stop watching Criminal Minds at three in the morning."
"Why? Dr. Spencer Reid's a cutie, and Garcia reminds me so much of you. Loud, over-the-top, loyal. Smart." I add.
He "awws" and kisses my cheek and I groan, wiping it away.
"Careful now. Wouldn't want your lady love to find out you have the hots for an older woman."
"Shut up." He blushes. "We're about to look for a dead body." He quickly parks in front of the McCall house, Melissa's car gone which means Scottie-boy is all alone. We quietly get out and sneak over, Stiles climbing onto the roof while I just hide in the bushes.
Moments later, the back door opens. Scott McCall and his uneven jawline appear from around the back porch, bat in hands and face somewhat hidden by his floppy hair. Stiles picks that moment to swing upside down, yelling in surprise as Scott makes to hit him with his baseball bat, the two boys shrieking like three year olds. I walk out of the bushes, cackling as they calm down.
"Stiles, Pat, what the hell are you two doing?"
"You weren't answering your phone!" Stiles answers, and I snort.
"Typical."
"Why do you have a bat?" Stiles asks.
Scott begins to lower it. "I thought you were a predator!"
"Who would want to attack you?" I ask, scoffing. I pull myself up from the fencing on the porch, flipping over it like it's a balance beam.
"Show-off." Stiles grunts, before refocusing on our other friend. "A predator? Look, I know it's late, but you gotta hear this! Our dad's left twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called -"
"They're bringing everyone in the Sheriff's Department." I interrupt. "Even the State Police, dude."
"Yes, thank you, Patty." Stiles sneers at me.
"For what?" Scott asks.
"Two joggers found a body in the woods." Stiles flips down, flailing a bit.
"A dead body?" Scott asks, and I facepalm.
"No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body!" Stiles sasses, then jumps the fence to join us.
"You mean like murdered?" Scott asks.
"Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her 20s."
"Hold on. If they found the body, then what are you looking for?"
"That's the best part. They only found half." Stiles answers, excitedly.
"A girl's dead Stiles, turn down the 'we're going to Disneyland' voice." I gripe, but he ignores me. "We're going."
And sure enough, fifteen minutes later we're pulling in front of the Beacon Hills Preserve.
"We're seriously doing this?" Scott gripes, hood up. I climb out from the back and slam the door, backpack still in the car but flashlight and switchblade in my hands. "Why do you have a knife?"
I raise an eyebrow at him. "Because I like to be prepared?" He just shakes his head and looks upward, as if begging the moon to save him from everything.
Stiles just scoffs at Scott. "You're the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town." He slaps him on the back and leads him towards the woods. I just shake my head.
"I don't think he was talking about murder. Maybe just us getting a Starbucks. Or an amusement park." I point out, getting encouraging nods from Scott. "Even just a girlfriend." I yelp as he kicks some leaves at me, stepping out of the way.
"I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow." Scott explains his reasoning for wanting to stay home.
"Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort."
I snort. "My poor Lacrosse benchwarmers. If it makes you feel better, I'll be cheering you on!"
"Shut up, Ricky." Stiles grumbles.
Scott just shakes his head. "No, because I'm playing this year. In fact I'm making first line."
"Hey, that's the spirit." Stiles briefly looks back as we trek through the woods. "Everyone should have a dream. Even a pathetically unrealistic one."
"Be nice." I tell him, tripping over a fallen branch but I right myself with Scott's help. "Thanks, buddy." He smiles happily at me, and I play with his hair.
"Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?" I can't believe Scott was the one to ask the question. I mean, why didn't I?
"For?"
I blink. "Stiles, dude, do you know which of the halves the joggers already found?"
He pauses. "Huh. I didn't even think about that."
"Damn it Stiles." I mutter, and Scott snorts.
"And, uh, what if whoever killed the body is still out there?" Scott asks.
"Also something I didn't think about."
"Don't worry." I turn to the younger boys. "I brought protection." I flip my knife open and grin wickedly before climbing up a rock-and-leaf pile.
"It's… comforting to know you've… planned this out with your usual attention to detail."
"Scott, inhaler." I order, and he whips it out, taking a couple of puffs. I point my flashlight around, hearing a couple of noises. Suddenly Stiles drags me down, and I tug Scott with me. In the trees ahead of us we watch as the police and their dogs search for the body. "Crap." I mutter, closing my knife and Stiles and I shut off our flashlights. The police get closer.
"Okay, come on."
"Wait, Stiles!" I call, running behind him, poor Scott taking his time behind us. "Scott, find a tree. Breathe!"
Stiles grabs my hand and tugs us, tucking around. "Shh!" He orders me, and I give him a glare.
"Stiles!" We turn when Scott calls, but can't find him. A dog barks behind us and we both jump, grabbing each other's arms and falling backwards and crawling away."
"Hold it right there!" The state officer yells.
"Hang on, hang on. These little delinquents belong to us." I look up at the Sheriff and my dad, who shakes his head in half amusement, half annoyance.
"Dad, how are you doing?" Stiles asks.
"So, do you listen in to all my phone calls?" The Sheriff asks.
"No." Stiles pauses. "Not the boring ones."
"And you, kid?" My dad asks, green eyes shining in the light.
I shake my head. "Nope. I just call Stiles for information." I throw my best friend a smile and he makes a wounded noise.
"Alright, Holmes, Watson. Where's Lestrade?" the Sheriff asks, looking around.
"Who, Scott? He's home. He said he wanted to get a good night's sleep for our first day back at school tomorrow." Stiles lies, and I nod in agreement.
"Yeah, what we should have done." I smile innocently at my father.
"It's just us. In the woods. Alone." Stiles adds.
Our dad's give us a look. Then Noah points his flashlight at the trees. "Scott! Are you out there?"
"Scott?" My dad calls, his voice deep as always. Silence, then they lower their flashlights.
"Well, young man." Noah says. "I'm gonna walk you back to your car. And you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy."
"You know what? We're gonna join you." My dad smugly grabs the back of my neck and leads me behind the Stilinskis. "We won't tell your mother about this. Lord knows she has enough on her plate. Besides, I did worse at your age." I give him an incredulous look, but he just keeps walking to the Jeep.
Finishing up my makeup, I smack my glossed lips together and raise my eyebrow, brushing my long curls onto one side as the sunlight catches on my gold hair. "Patty. Are you decent?" My dad asks.
"Always!" I call back and he snorts. I open it to see my mom and dad standing by the doorway, proud looks on their faces. "What?" My mom starts to tear up, and my dad rolls his eyes. "Mom, gross, stop crying." She only tugs me into a hug and I falter in my heels.
"Oh, I'm just so proud of you. College bound on a scholarship. A senior with a 4.0 average."
"Jesus, mom, I'm no hero." I hug her back, tightly. "But thank you."
"Hon, you do realize she's commuting to school next year, right?"
My mom scoffs, breaking away from me and tucking a finger under my chin, the both of them still much taller than me. "You should be dorming, pumpkin."
"And leave you without a regular sitter for Double Trouble? I don't think so."
"Mhmm. Love you."
"Love you too."
"Can I hug my daughter now?" I laugh at my dad and tug him into my arms, his muscular limbs around my smaller body. "I'm proud of you, kid. Do well today."
"Of course. Stay safe, daddy."
He snorts. "Believe me, I try." We break apart. "Alright, time for you to take the rugrats. Chase! Clark!"
"Coming!"
"Ah, stop pushing me!" Clark yells at Chase, and we hear the two of them stumbling down from their second floor room to kitchen. My mom huffs and follows the sounds of destruction, my dad following amused. With a sigh I grab my bag and coat and walk out my door, shutting it behind me.
Downstairs the twins are running around, grabbing their lunches and dodging our mom's kisses. "Attention, Double Trouble. Your ride's ready!" I announce.
"We haven't seen you in forever!" Chase yells, jumping on me. I laugh as Chase does the same.
"I saw you both this morning. During breakfast." I remind them.
Clark makes a face. "But that was forever ago!"
I roll my eyes and take their hands. "Alright, little buddies. Time for school. No complaints!"
"Bye mom!"
"See ya dad!" They call, Clark closing the door behind us. I open the backdoor of my 1967 Impala and usher the boys in. It was my mom's when she was younger, and a gift to me on my 16th birthday. Buffed recently, the black exterior shines and I pet my baby before climbing in, shoulder bag going on my passenger seat.
"Belts, boys." They nod and do as I ask. "And any arguments better be put on hold, or no more Impala for you."
"Yes ma'am." Clark says, green eyes shining.
Chase rolls his own green orbs but settles down, the two quietly goofing off. I smile but pull out of the driveway, passing Stiles still-parked Jeep on the way out.
The drive is filled with laughter and bad jokes, Chase just starting to fall into a "pun phase". Finally I pull up in front of the elementary school, waving at a few of their friends. "Okay, you two. Have a good day at school. Mom's picking you up."
"Ugh, why can't you?" Clark complains. I snort.
"Because I can't, rugrat. Come on, get!" They huff and roll their eyes, getting out of my baby, Chase carefully closing the door. I watch as they push each other on the way in and roll my eyes before pulling out of the drop off zone and heading off to school. I connect my iPod and play some Johnny Cash, singing along to Ring of Fire as I drive to Beacon Hills High. I park my car in the lot jus as Cash is crooning out the last line of Ain't No Grave.
Seeing Stiles by one of the trees I lock up the Impala and shoulder my bag, rushing over to him. "So, did you get grounded?"
"Please. Dad's not home enough to ground me. He's taking his calls in hiding places, though." Stiles frowns, and I laugh at him.
"You are something else, Stilinski."
"Whatever, Abernathy. Yo, Scott!" Stiles yells, and I follow his gaze to see our friend rushing to us, setting his backpack and stick down.
"Guys, guys. Last night I got bit!"
"Bit? By what?" I ask.
"I don't know." Scott shrugs, panicking slightly.
"Okay, let's see this thing." Stiles bounces on the balls of his feet. Our friend pulls up his sweater and shirt, revealing his surprising abs and small square of taped gauze, some blood seeping through.
"Oh, Scott." I frown at him, gently checking him.
"Yeah." He lowers his shirts and puts his bag back on. "It was too dark to see much, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf."
"A wolf bit you?" Stiles ask as we walk with him towards the building.
"Uh-huh."
"No, not a chance." Stiles disagrees.
"I heard a wolf howling." Scott tells him. I raise an eyebrow.
"Are you sure?"
"No, he didn't. No, you didn't." Stiles tells us.
"What do you mean, no, I didn't? How do you know what I heard?" Scott asks.
Stiles laughs and rushes in front of us, turning to stop us in our tracks. "Because California doesn't have wolves, okay? Not in, like, 60 years."
"Really?" I ask. "And how do you know this?"
"ADHD spiral." I nod at his shrug. "And yes, really, there are no wolves in California."
"Alright, well if you don't believe me about the wolf, then… you're definitely not going to believe me when I tell you I found the body."
Stiles freaks out, his voice quiet but movements crazy. "You-are you kidding me?" He asks, and I find myself getting a little excited, too, considering a girl was murdered.
"Which half?"
"Top. And no, I wish I was kidding. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month." I pat his shoulder but Stiles laughs, still excited. I throw him a disbelieving look.
"Oh, God. That is freakin' awesome. This is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since… Since the birth of Lydia Martin." Said strawberry blonde struts past, ignoring Stiles. "Hey Lydia, you look… like you're going to ignore me." I laugh as she continues walking away, then clap his shoulder.
"Well, boys, I've only got AP Bio first period, then I'm spending the rest of the day in the library. I'll meet you here after your practice."
"Kay. Bye Pat!" Scott calls, still consoling Stiles. I roll my eyes and walk up the school steps, yelping in surprise when Lydia steps in front of me, taking my hand.
"Good morning, Patricia."
"Lyds. Hi, sorry. What's up?" I ask, fixing my hair.
"Nothing! Just wanted to say hi! How was your break? Did you meet anyone?" She asks, and I laugh, walking towards my locker.
"No. I was busy."
She bounces up and down, then sighs. "God, you're gonna make me ask!"
I laugh. "Alright, what?" I look up at the slightly taller girl. Without heels she's got three inches on me, and Lord knows she walks around wearing stilettos.
"Did you get in?"
"You're looking at a member of Beacon University's Class of 2015, full scholarship." She claps her hand, proud. "I got into Stanford and Princeton as well, but they didn't give me enough money and someone needs to watch the kids until they're old enough."
She nods. Lydia acts like the typical popular girl, but she's more than that. She thinks I'm the only one who sees her, but Stiles does too. He used to ask me to put in a good word for her. But I've never felt comfortable doing that. We're friends, Lydia and I, but I've never been one for meddling.
"Hey, full scholarship anywhere is incredible. Besides, it's admirable of you to stay and help your parents. Besides, grad school is always an option!"
"Exactly! Listen, I have to run, but I'll see you later, right?"
"Of course. I should find Jackson and his meathead friends. By the way, there's a party at my place Friday, after the scrimmage. Try to come! Ciao!" She calls, walking away from me. I shake my head in amusement and close my locker, heading to Mrs. Finch's classroom, ready for the first hellish class.
I sit on the hood of my Impala, checking the time on my phone once more. God, those boys take forever to get changed after Lacrosse practice. Seriously, half the team's already pulled out of the lot, a couple of the older guys winking at me. I wrinkle my nose at the recent memory, tugging at the hem of my pleated black skirt. It comes mid-thigh, ending at the exact spot my fingertips reach when my arms are down, per dress code rule. Still, I'm lucky - despite my small stature I've got long legs and a short torso, which means my skirts can be shorter than most.
I also fix up my rose pink collared sweater and pick at the sheer dark tights under my skirt. Sure, we live in California, but Beacon Hills is up north, so it can still get cold in winter.
Finally, the boys come walking towards me, back in their school clothes. I hop off from the hood of my Impala and wrap my hand around the strap of my bag. "Dude, you should have seen it! Scott was on fire!" Stiles yells, rushing up to me.
"Wait, seriously?" I ask, pulling said boy into a hug. He laughs and spins me.
"It was incredible! I definitely made first line!"
He sets me down and I punch his shoulder. "Good job, Lestrade." I turn to Stiles. "So, the Preserve?"
"Yes. You gonna cheer for us as we look for the body?"
I roll my eyes as he looks me up and down, unimpressed. "I was excited. Sue me."
"Well, whatever we find, it better come with my inhaler."
"You lost your inhaler?" I ask Scott. He nods. "Well, damn, now we really have to go back to the woods."
"We'll meet you there."
"Hell yeah. I ain't driving with you when I've got my Impala." The boys snort and back away as I slide into my car. I wave as I pass them, getting a head start to the Preserve.
I wait for five minutes for the duo to pull up beside me, sitting on the hood of my impala cross legged, playing with my phone. I had pulled my brown leather jacket on when I arrived, to protect me from the chill in the air. "Dude, come on!" Stiles calls, rushing out of his Jeep, barely putting it in park. Scott helps me down from my little spot and I thank him, tucking my phone away in my coat pocket. My smaller legs carry me behind the taller boys, and I'm thankful for my water resistant boots when we splash through a small stream, my heels wobbling a bit in the mud as I quickly walk. It's cold for California, my legs shivering and I very much regret not putting on jeans, or at least a thicker pair of tights.
"I don't know what it was." Scott says as we cross the stream. "It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball. And that's not the only weird thing." We climb up a pile of leaves.
"What's going on?" I ask, nearly scraping my knee against a rock.
"I can… hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear." He walks under a branch, but I just walk around it. "Smell things. Like, you." He looks at me.
I wrinkle my nose. "Do I smell bad?"
He shakes his head. "No, you smell great. Like peaches." I smile at his sincere look, Stiles sniffing me.
"Hey, you really do. What else can you smell?"
"The mint mojito gum in your pocket."
"I don't even have any mint mojito -" Stiles stops talking, pulling out the piece of gum. Scott throws out his arms and continues walking, and I take the gum from Stiles, laughing at his hurt expression as I pop it in my mouth. "So all this started with a bite?" He asks Scott, who looks down at the ground presumably for where he dropped his inhaler.
"What if it's like an infection, like my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something."
"Calm down, you damn hypochondriac." I gripe at him.
"You know what? I actually think I've heard of this." I turn to Stiles in surprise.
"Seriously?"
"Oh, yeah." He nods, Scott slowing down to look at our best friend. "It's a specific kind of infection."
"Are you serious?" Scott asks.
"Yeah. Yeah, I think it's called Lycanthropy." I huff and roll my eyes, arms crossed in annoyance as I slowly start to walk away.
"What's that?" Scott asks, worried. "Is that bad?"
"Oh yeah, it's the worst. But only once a month."
"Once a month?"
"Mhmm. On the night of the full moon." Stiles howls and Scott scoffs and pushes him as they walk towards where I'm waiting. "Hey!" Stiles defends himself, amused. "You're the one who heard a wolf howling!"
"Hey, there could be something seriously wrong with me."
"I know!" Stiles shouts, still excited. "You're a werewolf. Rrrrrr!"
"Stilinski, don't make me use your real name." I warn, and he winces at my pointed finger.
"You got it, Wonder Woman." He turns to the anxious Scott. "Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But, if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's cause Friday's a full moon."
Scott stops walking, looking around. "What is it?" I ask, taking his shoulder.
"No, I-I could have sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler." He ducks down, feeling around the leaves.
"Maybe the killer moved the body."
Scott looks up at Stiles. "If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are, like, 80 bucks."
I hear a twig snap and jump, turning to see a slightly older man standing a few feet behind us, a slightly large black leather jacket covering him. "Hey, guys?" I ask, and my friends turn. The man walks towards us, and I swear to God he's the most handsome guy I've ever seen, all brooding and confident.
"What are you doing here?" He asks. "Huh? This is private property."
"Sorry." I try to keep the situation calm. "We didn't know. We were here last night, my friend dropped his inhaler."
The man reaches into his pocket and tosses something, Scott catching it. I look down in his fist to see it's the missing lifesaver. I look back up at the man in surprise, and I feel my cheeks flushing as he stares at me, head tilted. Then he turns and walks away, feet crunching against the leaves.
"All right, I gotta get to work." Scott mutters.
"Dudes!" Stiles stops up. "That was Derek Hale. You remember right? He's only a few years older than us."
"Remember what?" Scott asks.
"His family. They all burned to death in a fire, like, ten years ago."
"Five." I correct, Stiles looking at me. I remember the news playing, my mom holding me while my dad rushed to the crime scene. "It was five years ago."
"I wonder what he's doing back?" Scott stares after the fading figure, and I bite my lip.
The next day at school, I watched as Scott McCall flipped over his teammates and scored a goal, effectively making first line. One look at Stiles and I knew something was definitely happening to our best friend. Something supernatural.
It's Friday, after the scrimmage. I sit on Stiles's bed, feet tucked under me as I scroll through my laptop. Stiles sits at his desk, researching werewolves. Any homework for the weekend has been ignored on account of concern for our best friend.
"Okay, so Derek was barely 16 at the time of the fire. He, his older sister Laura, and his uncle were the only survivors." I tell Stiles, reading the formal obituary. "It looks like Peter Hale is still in a coma, but there's no record of either Hale sibling since the fire."
"I've got silver bullets pulled up. A bunch of sites say different things."
"What does it say about werewolf abilities? We know Scott is fast and strong."
"Yeah, he's like Superman right now."
"Maybe it's just adrenaline?"
"Doubtful." Stiles snorts. "That bite looked bad. Like really bad. Besides, the fiber analysis showed wolf hair was present on the body."
"That's a good point. But maybe we're being a little crazy right now." I set my computer down and walk up behind him, peering over my best friend's shoulder. "How much Adderall have you taken?"
Someone knocks loudly on the door and we jump. I sit on the bed as Stiles carefully maneuvers through the sheets of printed papers lying around his floor. The door opens and behind it stands a grinning Scott. "Get in!" Stiles orders, slamming the door behind him. "You gotta see this thing. I was up all night reading - websites, books. All this information."
"How much Adderall have you had today?" Scott asks, amused.
"A lot. Doesn't matter. Okay, just listen."
"Oh, is this about the body?" Scott tosses his bag on the bed, sitting next to me. "Did they find out who did it?"
"No, they're still questioning people, even Derek Hale." Stiles turns his rolling chair to face us, and Scott looks at me for reassurance. I nod, still typing away at my keyboard to figure out where Derek Hale's been.
"The guys in the woods that we saw the other day."
"Yeah!" Stiles spazzes a bit, and I'm definitely concerned about how much Adderall he's consumed. "Yes, but that's not it, okay?"
"What, then?"
"Remember the joke from the other day? Not a joke anymore." Stiles clutches the pictures in his hand. When Scott looks confused Stiles leans forward. "The wolf - the bite in the woods. I started doing all this research." I cough. "Fine, we started doing all this research." He spins around then jumps up. "Do you even know why a wolf howls?"
"Should I?" Scott asks.
"It's a signal." Scott looks at me, confused by Stiles's words.
"When a wolf's alone, it howls." I start to explain. "It howls to signal its location to other pack members."
"Exactly!" Stiles shouts, pacing a bit. "So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack of 'em."
"A whole pack of wolves?"
"No… werewolves." Stiles corrects Scott, looking at me.
Scott stands up, unamused. "Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour." He starts to put on his backpack, but Stiles stops him.
"I saw you on the field today, Scott. Both of us did." He gestures to me, and I nod, setting my laptop to the side. "Okay, what you did wasn't just amazing, all right? It was impossible."
"Supernatural." I correct, Scott turning to glare at me in disbelief.
"You, too? I thought you were the smart one?!"
"Hey!" I shout. "Don't be a dick!"
Scott quietly apologizes and turns to Stiles. "So I made a good shot."
"No!" Stiles stops him from moving. "No, you made an incredible shot!" He grabs his bag and tosses it next to me. "I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes." Stiles practically dances around the room. "People can't just suddenly do that overnight. And there's the vision and the hearing."
"Scott." I gently cut in, the two boys looking at me. "You haven't used your inhaler since the night in the woods. Something strange is happening, you have to feel it!"
"Okay!" He shouts. "Dudes, I can't think about this now. We'll talk tomorrow." Stiles's eyes grow wide.
"Tomorrow? What, no! The full moon's tonight, don't you get it?"
"What are you trying to do? I-I just made first line, I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me. And everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?" Scott asks as Stiles sits on his chair.
"I'm trying to help. You're cursed, Scott." There's a brief pause. "And it's not just the moon will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak."
"Bloodlust?"
"Yeah, your urge to kill."
Scott sighs. "I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles." Unconcerned by our possible-werewolf friend's tone, Stiles turns in his chair and picks up his book on Lycanthropy.
"You gotta hear this. 'The change can be caused by anger, or anything that raises raises your pulse.'" He turns to Scott. "All right?" He slams the book closed and tosses it to the side. "I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date." Stiles shoots up and crosses over to Scott's bag, taking out his phone. The shorter boy protests, following him. "I'm gonna call her right now."
"What are you doing?"
"I'm canceling the date."
"No you're not!" Scott practically roars, throwing Stiles against the bedroom wall and breathing heavily. I jump and race towards the two, trying to break them apart. Scott's fist is raised to punch Stiles. Instead, he yells and knocks the chair over. He starts to pant heavily, leaning into me. "I'm sorry." Scott walks away from us, in shock. "I-I gotta go get ready for that party." He leaves the room, bag in hand, and I turn to Stiles.
"Yeah. So do we." Stiles picks up his chair and stops, swinging it so the back is facing me. Three long tears lie in the same spot Scott knocked it over. "Yeah, we really have to go to that party."
Lydia's party is in full swing by the time we pull into the driveway. Parking behind Stiles's Jeep I climb out of my car and straighten my pink bodycon dress and light cardigan, tan booties digging into the gravel. "Alright. We'll keep an eye on Lestrade."
"Yeah. He'll be with Allison. But as soon as the full moon starts to come out, we have to get him out of there."
I nod, and we both stare at the house. "You don't happen to have any wolfsbane on you, huh?" I ask.
He snorts and takes my arm, leading me towards the party. "We're screwed." I sigh and push him away, and he wanders off to presumably get some alcohol. Feeling hot I tug off my cardigan and hang it up on one of the hooks by the front door.
After grabbing a cup of whatever pink concoction Lydia's made tonight and talking to a few of my fellow seniors - then ignoring a particularly overbearing ex - I walk towards the pool, the main dance area, and see Scott and Allison making their way out as well. Weaving through the people I stop in front of them, smiling.
"Hey!" I smile at them, waving at the new girl. "Sorry I haven't introduced myself. I'm Patricia, one of Scott's best friends. You must be Allison."
"Oh, it's so nice to meet you." Her dimples pop out as she smiles, and I can immediately see why Scott fell for her.
"Well, I'll let you two get back to your date." I turn to Scott and hug the surprised boy. "Find us if something happens." I whisper, low enough for him to hear.
He nods, but when he stills I know something is wrong. I break apart and the two of us see a familiar man standing by the firepit.
"You two okay?" The tall girl asks us.
"Yeah. Ex-boyfriend I have to talk to. Have fun!" I tell them, carefully weaving away from them and chasing after one of the last Hales.
I find him behind the house, his larger body staring down at me. "Go back to the party." Derek growls. "This doesn't concern you."
"Pretty sure my best friend being a werewolf does concern me, Derek." He blinks, green eyes confused. "That's right, I know who you are."
"Hm." He looks around, scowling. "You should get back to the party, Patricia."
"But we're having so much fun right here." I sass, arms crossed. "Stay away from Scott." I glower at him.
"I'm here to help him." Derek growls at me. "I can do more than you or your little friend can. You won't be able to do anything. You're human. We're werewolves."
"Oh God, please tell me you don't have a species superiority complex."
"This has nothing to do with us being better than you."
I snort. "I can handle myself, Derek Hale. So stay away from us." With that I turn on my heel and march back to the party, only to see Scott stumbling away from a confused Allison. Taking her hand we rush after him, passing Stiles on the way out. We find Scott outside, stumbling over to his mom's car before getting in and closing the door, leaving us alone.
"Patricia. Allison." Our heads turn at the new voice, and I tug the taller girl behind me as Derek approaches. "Do you need a ride home?"
"How do you know us?" Allison asks.
"I'm a friend of Scott's." Derek turns to me.
I scoff. "Yeah, right. Allison, we'll take mine. Later, Derek." He glares at me as we walk away, Allison more than confused. She gets into the passenger side of my Impala and buckles up as I pull away from Lydia's house, giving me her address.
"Who's Derek? Why did he say he's friends with Scott?" She asks nervously.
Putting on a sad smile, I look at her. "Oh, he's my ex. We try to avoid him."
"Messy break up?" She asks, taking one of my hands in comfort.
"Yeah. Big disagreement. The boys used to hang out with him, but... Stiles and Scott are loyal friends." Allison sighs and I briefly turn my head to look at her. "Listen, I'm sure he didn't mean to leave you behind. Scott's been feeling weird all day. He didn't want to cancel on you, though. He really likes you."
"You think?" She nervously tucks her hair behind her ears.
I laugh. "Listen, I've known him since he was six years old. That boy hasn't been as into any girl as he is you. I'm sure he'll explain what happened. Just, try not to be too hard on him."
"It depends on his excuse." I laugh.
"You're really something."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, don't get me wrong, that wasn't an insult." She nods. "I just mean, I can tell you're strong. That you don't put up with other people's crap."
"I try not to."
I chuckle. "Unfortunately, most guys our age are full of crap."
"You could say that again." We both laugh, and I pull in front of her large house. "Well, thanks for the ride. Hey, give me your phone. Please?" I do as she asks, and I watch her type into it. "Sorry, it's just, I've only really made friends with Lydia and Scott. They told me you're busy with senior year, but I'd love to have someone give me advice. If you want." She stares at me, nervous.
I laugh and take my phone from her, texting her my name so she can save it. "Girl, it's fine. Hey, if you want I can take you around town tomorrow? We can do homework at the cafe downtown."
"Sure!" She smiles and gets out, leaning down to finish talking to me. "It was nice to meet you. Can I call you Trish?"
I smile. "Well, that's something I probably should be going by instead of Patty. So yes. See you tomorrow, Alli."
She smiles and carefully closes the door, walking into her house. I wait for a second to make sure we weren't followed and then pull out, calling Stiles.
"Where the hell are you?" He asks as I put him on speaker.
"I was dropping Allison off."
"So Derek doesn't have her?"
"No! Why would you think that?"
"Well, I saw him talking to you and told Scott, who's busy turning into a werewolf and is panicking!" He yells at me. I roll my eyes.
"I'm not an idiot. I took her home. Where are you?"
"I'm pulling up to Allison's house right now." I huff.
"Jesus, Stiles, where the hell's Scott?" I ask.
"I don't know! I followed him home and he said Derek's the one who bit him! I thought you two were in trouble!"
"Stiles, we're fine. We need to get Scott!"
"No, no, you go home. I'll check on Allison, make sure Derek isn't there. Please stay safe!" I sigh and nod, even though he can't see me.
"You too, Watson."
"Count on it, Holmes." We hang up on each other and I drive back to my house, the full moon shining above me.
Saturday was fun, Allison and I working on what little homework our teachers assigned us at the Beacon Bean, nursing latte after latte and giggling about childhood stories. I learned she moved around a lot because of her parents, but mostly her dad who's an arms dealer for the government. She's a year older than Scott and Stiles, and practically begged me not to say anything. I take promises seriously, especially of the pinky variety, so her secret is safe with me. By the end of the day I made a new best friend. This time a girl, more open than Lydia and unafraid to be herself. That Monday I caught up with Stiles and an exhausted Scott, who pulled me into a hug and practically cried out an apology. I just stroked his hair, the concern on my face mirrored on Stiles's. They told me about the hunters, about Scott being shot with an arrow and Derek finding him.
"Don't worry. Stiles and I will keep you chained up on full moon nights and toss you a raw steak."
Scott had laughed at that. "Stiles only offered me mice."
"Well, Stiles is gross, Lestrade."
After school Allison and I walk out to the parking lot, finding Scott sitting at one of the tables. "So what happened? You left me stranded at the party." She keeps walking and I laugh under my breath at her take-no-prisoners attitude, Scott quickly following after us.
"Yeah, I-I know, I know. I'm really sorry, I am. But… you're gonna have to trust that I had a really good reason." Allison looks into his eyes as we walk.
"Did you get sick? Trish said you weren't feeling well that day."
Scott looks at me in thanks. "I definitely had an attack of something." We stop walking and I stand a little behind the couple, watching in anticipation.
"Am I gonna get an explanation?" She asks him.
"Can you just find it in your heart to trust me on this one?" Scott asks, and Allison sighs.
"Am I gonna regret this?"
"Probably." I laugh at Scott, holding my hands up in surrender and getting a giggle from Allison. "So is that a yes on a second chance?"
"Definitely yes." A car honks as they step closer to each other, and we all look at the red Tahoe at the pick up zone. That's my dad. I better go." She waves to us and walks towards her equally tall dad. He stares at us, and I bite my lip, nervous my how focused he is on Scott. My friend nervously waves and the man smirks, climbing into his car and driving his daughter away.
"Pat?"
"Yes?"
"That was the hunter who shot me."
I look at him in alarm, and then the fading Tahoe. "'Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.'" Scott looks at me. "Romeo and Juliet."
"Aw, crap." Scott mutters, and I nod my head. This just got a whole lot more interesting.
