HI! My name is Kris and this is my fist time writing a Teen Wolf story. Usually I write one shots because continuity and I aren't good friends. But anyways, this story takes place in season two and I plan to sorta write Charlie's back story as the story progresses. So, if you guys could leave a review that'd be great, but remember this is my first time writing a Teen Wolf story.
Disclaimer: I don't own shit.
Beep! Beep! Beep! Bee-
Ugh.
Alarm clocks will be the bane of my existence. People who actually wake up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated are a close second. Seriously, who invented alarm clocks? It doesn't even matter because I'm the one who keeps resetting it to go off every morning.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Charlie, wake up! I know you're in there!" My twin, Matt, oh so rudely yelled. Jesus, man it's only 7 in the morning and you've already set the record for annoying me for the day. Especially on a Monday. Which comes in third for the bane of my existence.
Groaning, I rolled over to see that someone took it upon themselves to leave my curtains open, effectively making the sun shine directly in my face. My guess was Stiles or maybe it was Isaac. Neither of them made a habit of using the door. Pricks.
My bedroom door suddenly slammed open to reveal my half-dressed brother holding a bottle of Listerine a smug look on his face. Oh, wait. That's just his face. "Would it kill you to put on some pants?" I grumbled, rubbing my eyes only to be faced with plaid boxers.
"Here ya go, morning breath," he quipped, handing me the bottle. I accepted it grudgingly and momentarily contemplated tossing the liquid in his eyes. "You got 20 minutes or else you're stuck catching the bus. Oh! And did you hear about that Lydia girl? She ran off from the hospital last night. Naked and all," he added on, finally leaving my room.
It was my intention to tell him that I already knew that, but I only managed to croak. "Ugh," I moaned, stretching and letting out a yawn. I'm sure I wouldn't be this tired if it wasn't for Stiles dragging me out to help look for Lydia last night anyways. Groggily, I sat up and searched for my phone only to find it on the ground by my closet.
So close, yet so far.
Glancing back at my clock, I laid back down and snuggled the bottle of mouthwash to my chest. With a sigh, I shut my eyes and drifted back to sleep.
God, I'm so lonely.
"Yes, Nick Jonas, I will marry you," I grinned, leaning in to kiss my husband-to-be.
SLAM
"Shit!" I yelled with a start. I sat up straight in bed and whipped my head toward the clock which read 8:47. "Shit, shit, shit," I mumbled as I scrambled out of bed, accidently taking my comforter with me.
After showering in record time, I threw on black skinny jeans and an Americano shirt. Throwing on my Converse's, I backtracked and grabbed the bottle of Listerine before grabbing my book bag. There wasn't any point in checking to see if Matt had waited up for me and my dad was gone. Hence the obnoxious slamming of the door interrupting my wonderful wonderful dream.
Ugh, screw Nick Jonas and his (literally) dreamy self.
I grabbed my keys to shut and lock the door behind and began my commute to school. It was going to be another 15 minutes until I got there. Besides, it was already 9 in the morning. Eh, what's the point in rushing now? I fished my headphones out of my bag and plugged one end into my phone and the other in my ear. Walking to the beat of the music, I decided to check my text messages considering the neglect I'd been giving my phone all morning.
Good morning sunshine! The earth says hello.
Stiles, you idiot.
Crap, I meant star shine. Whatever.
WAKE UP!
Great, now I have another alarm clock in the form of an ADHD dork.
Are you coming to class?
Oh, yeah I left your curtain open when I left last night.
Please say yes. Harris is being worse than normal today.
Gee thanks, Isaac. You just single handedly gave me a reason to skip school entirely.
I pocketed my phone and head phones and swiftly went up the school stairs. Not bothering to stop by my locker, I headed straight to Harris' room.
Now trust me when I tell you that knocking before entering truly makes a difference. Granted, you'll still have 22 pair of eyes staring at you. But at least they're staring because you're late, instead of sweating and interrupting a lecture.
Screw that, they should be grateful I'm interrupting this snooze-fest.
"Miss Daehler," Harris announced, getting those select few who hadn't been paying attention. Welp, now there are 25 pairs of eyes staring at me. "So nice of you to join us," he deadpanned.
Look, man. Seeing your face isn't exactly the highlight of my day either.
"I'm sorry."
I'm not sorry.
"My ala-"
"I'm sure you've had more than enough time to come up with an excuse as to why you're late, but it doesn't matter. Detention, 3 o'clock. Don't be late," he droned, turning his back toward the board.
"But…I woke up an hour late so my whole schedule's off so my entire day is thrown off so I can't make it," I quipped. I managed to pull a few chuckles with my comment.
"Then you won't mind getting out at five instead of four, now sit."
"Dammit," I mumbled under my breath. With a defeated look on my face, I took a seat over next to Isaac who was smirking at me. "This is your fault," I whispered, stealing his notes so I could copy the missed information.
"How?" He frowned.
"You left my curtain open which lead to a series of events that made me late and therefore landed me in detention." Isaac scoffed playfully and turned his attention back to the board. He was wearing that same smug look on his face as he did when we were younger. He and Matt used to trade cards like it was going out of style. Yu-Gi-Oh, Pokémon you name it and they were trading. Personally, I never saw the point because they made better toothpicks than cards. But if Isaac insisted on sneaking out the window, he could at least use Matt's window instead of mine. "I'm serious, Lahey. You better start digging your own grave tonight. There's just too many witnesses around for me to kill you."
"I'll be sure to mention you in my obituary," he quipped, rolling his eyes slightly.
I chuckled once before noticing the shiner on his face. On instinct, I reached up to touch his black eye before he flinched away. Isaac glanced around to see if anyone had noticed before looking straight ahead.
"Dude, what happened?" I asked, turning in my seat to face him completely.
Psst.
He paused for a moment, licking his lips. "Uh, lacrosse practice."
Psst.
I tilted my head in confusion before eyeing him slightly. "Now correct me if I'm wrong, but don't you guys wear face masks?"
"Charlie!" Scott whispered-yelled. I threw up my index finger behind me without bothering to look back.
"And you also used that excuse for the cut on your face last week and the week before that it was another black eye…" I pointed out in a low voice. "I don't think the game is all that violent of you guys are cover in gear-"
Isaac ducked his head quickly before meeting my same tone of voice. "Look, the last time I checked you can't even name the positions on the team let alone mine. So, how would you even know?" He snapped, turning his attention back to the board. I scoffed softly before turning my legs back under the table and toward the front of the class.
Trying to make out Isaac's messy handwriting, I felt something hit my shoulder and then another something hit my back. Frowning, I turned around to see to paper balls on the ground and Stiles leaning toward me and Scott sending me a pointed look. "What?"
"Why were you late?" Stiles asked, twirling his pencil.
"Gee, I don't know maybe because I was out helping look for another body."
"Yeah, but this one's warm."
"Not for long."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked worriedly.
"The temperature's supposed to drop pretty low tonight," I said, turning back to my notes. Stiles visibly slackened in his seat and I instantly felt bad. "But don't werewolves have like a super-hot temperature all the time anyways?"
According to the Twilight series anyways.
"Miss Daehler, if you would please clear your desk for the quiz? Or is that too much work for you?" Harris quipped. I raised an eyebrow as I glanced around the class to see everyone had indeed clear desks. "Right," I chuckled nervously. No need to land myself more detention. But then again, Harris was kinda hot…
Harris is totally not hot.
He had confiscated Stiles and I third paper football and now we were here for an extra half hour. I mean, what does he expect us to do with this extra free time? If he thinks Chemistry then he has another thing coming. With another loud sigh, I tapped my fingers on the table. I sent Stiles a wave, who was seated by the windows while I was moved by the door. He returned it halfheartedly and a small smile.
Man, this Lydia-gone-missing-in-the-woods-while-naked was really getting to him. None of it was really his fault. I blame Zombie Peter.
"What is it, Miss Daehler?" Harris droned from his never-ending stack of ungraded papers.
"The separation anxiety, sir. It's killing me." Being the overdramatic person I am, I buried my head in folded arms and it turns out its damn pretty comfortable.
I know pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride…
"Miss Daehler, could you please refrain from sleeping in my classroom ever again or you'll have detention for the rest of the month," he droned, successfully interrupting my flawless dream. "Now leave."
Ugh, like he could handle me in detention for the rest of the month.
I met Stiles outside in the parking lot who was pacing impatiently whilst talking on the phone in a rushed manner. I threw my stuff in the back without waiting for him to agree to take me home.
There's a season of Supernatural and a bag of Twizzlers waiting for me at home.
He hopped in the driver's side and began dialing someone on the phone. "Who ya calling?" I asked. Stiles jumped with a start and eyed me and quickly turned to examine the area surrounding him. "Where'd you come from?"
I knitted my eyebrows together. "The same place you just came from."
"Whatever, it doesn't matter," he concluded, pocketing his phone and cranking up his Jeep. "Scott's already at the funeral and they're still waiting on 'the others' to arrive."
"Thanks for the 4-1-1, but I don't see what that has to do with me, Supernatural, and Twizzlers."
Now it was his turn to knit his eyebrows together. "What're you talking about? We gotta go to Allison's crazy aunt's funeral to-"
"We don't have to anything. I'm going home," I protested, which was proving to be futile as Stiles continued on his merry way to the gravesite.
"Look, I'm glad you have a firm grasp on pronouns, but-"
"No."
"Please?" He whined.
Oh, god I wish Derek were to knock the whining out of him.
"No."
"Please."
"No."
"Please," he sang, his voice growing more and more shrill.
"No."
"Puh-lease."
"Fine," I stressed, giving in. In turn, Stiles did an awful victory dance and slightly swerved off the road as he did so. "You know, you should really consider getting your seats cleaned. Derek's blood is still dried up on it."
"Oh, gross. I told him not to do that," he whined.
Ugh, this kid.
After more whining, arguing about where to park, and trekking 10 minutes through forestry to get to the site we finally saw a small crowd. We spotted Scott crouching behind a headstone and peering at Allison. I felt a ping of guilt as I watched her and get family pushed through the myriad of reporters and cameras. As I was scanning the crowd, I saw a familiar camera.
Is that...
Matt!
"Oh my god, there's Matt!" I exclaimed, getting ready to stand up and wave only to be pulled down by Scott.
"Jesus, Char are you trying to get us caught?" Scott scolded.
"Says the werewolf dating a werewolf hunter," I quipped under my breath. Scott turned his head to glare at me. Meanwhile, I rolled my eyes before pulling out my phone.
I see you.
Ha. That old guy broke your memory card.
Matt looked dejected before texting me back with a smirk on his face.
Jokes on you. You're the one who bought it.
...So what.
I was brought out of my brooding when I realized I was completely and utterly alone. The large shadow that was casted on the headstone was the only sign I needed to know we were in deep shit. I bet it was Scott who got us caught. He was never the stealthiest kid, even now as a werewolf he still wasn't.
"Now Charlotte, what's your excuse?" Sheriff Stilinski asked as he held Scott and Stiles at his flanks, the latter holding a tie in his hands.
I glanced at them both before pursing my lips. "Well...-"
"Charlie!" Matt exclaimed, jogging over. He set me a sly wink before everyone snapped his head toward him.
That sneaky bastard.
"Dad wants us home ASAP," he began. He held his phone up for emphasis as he sent Sheriff Stilinski an apologetic look. "Something about a hot water pipe busting and we gotta move all of our stuff before it gets ruined."
I raised an eyebrow and held my mouth open like a fish. "Yeah, okay."
Sheriff Stilinski eyed us, clearly unconvinced. "Get outta here," he finally said before dragging away the other two.
"You're a genius, you know that?" I said knowingly as we began to walk back toward Stiles' jeep. Matt shrugged one of his shoulders. "I try. I'm outta here though. That old guy is giving me the creeps." We turned our head back in perfect synchronization as we openly stared at the Argents.
I frowned before shuddering myself as I caught the older man's eye. "I have a hunch about him."
"Agreed," Matt said. "Chinese tonight?"
"Nah, that stuff gives me gas."
"Ew, pizza it is."
"See ya at home, twin," I said before turning on my foot and entering the woods again. At this point, I just wanted to go home and sleep so I can be dragged out back out here to look for Lydia again tonight. Resistance was pretty much futile with Stiles and if my shit wasn't in his car, then I would've bummed a ride from Matt, but yet here I am. Trekking through the woods. Again.
"4-1-5 Adam, route 5 and post."
What the hell?
I was rudely (and literally) pulled out of my pouting when Stiles gripped my upper arm as he and Scott guided me through the woods effectively making me pick up my pace. "I'm so confused." Like more confused than an average day in Chemistry. Seriously, that shit is confusing. Not only does it have numbers, letters, negatives, and positives; but if you mix up any of the listed above; you dead, bro.
"Something hit an ambulance on the way to the hospital with a DOA victim," Stiles explained as we arrived at the jeep. I scooted in between Scott and Stiles and frowned. "And you think it's Lydia?"
"We know it's Lydia," Scott corrected.
"It could be something else?"
"Like what?"
I smirked before answering. "A mountain lion." My reaction was perfectly in sync eye rolls. "Screw you guys I'm hilarious."
"What the hell is Lydia doing?" Stiles asked, his voice laced with worry.
"I don't know," Scott answered in a low voice.
"I know she's eating better than me," I huffed to myself. Stiles tore his eyes away from the scene with worry etched on his face. "What kept you from doing that? Allison?"
"I hope so."
I squinted in the dark trying to get a better view on the gruesome scene far from me. Guess who forgot to put their contacts in today? Hint: it's me. "I don't think it's her," I said interrupting their conversation.
"Why?" Scott asked.
"Well, if the bloodlust is really as bad as you say it was whenever you wolf out, then wouldn't be ten times worse for a girl? I mean, clearly who, er, whatever is doing this knows what they're doing." I explained, turning back to the scene once again.
"I guess that makes sense, "Stiles said after a moment. "Just…find her, Scott. Please," he added softly. I sent him an apologetic smile.
Scott nodded, determined. "I will, but what do we do now?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but was cut off by a flashlight beam. "Shit," Stiles hissed. I didn't even have the chance to blink before Scott disappeared.
Screw what I said, that kid is stealthy.
I glanced up and quickly made the decision to scale and climb a tree that was near the edge of the woods. At about 10 feet up, I settled into the branches and listened to the sheriff as he caught only Stiles.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Sheriff Stilinksi exclaimed once Stiles finally reached him.
Stiles nervously shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged sheepishly. "Not spying on the crime scene if that's what you're thinking."
Oh, geez.
I rolled my eyes as I shifted my position on a branch considering I might be there a while depending on how long it takes Stiles to come up with a decent lie.
I should just set up camp at this point. I would totally win the Hunger Games.
After a few moments of sitting there and listening to another lecture, I heard shuffling coming from the ground. I quickly sat up and poked my head around to find the source of the sound, but was met with nothing but darkness.
Awesome, now I'm hearing things.
Leaning back, something caught my eye. And it had eight legs.
"Oh, god," I whispered-yelled, while attempting to quickly stand myself up. Unfortunately, I lost my footing and was now hanging from my hands on the branch I was residing on.
Scratch what I said about the Hunger Games. That monstrous spider would totally win.
"Lydia?" Stiles called out.
Oh! The shuffling was her. Thank god because I am so done with anything that has more than two legs.
I saw her walking toward the flashing red and blue lights as Stiles continued to call out her name. Meanwhile, I'm swinging 10 feet in the fucking air with no recognition.
"Well, isn't anyone going to offer me a coat?" Lydia called out. Without speaking a beat, Stiles attempted (and I use that word loosely) to take his dad's coat, but failed and was meet with a face full of dirt.
Welp, that's enough for me tonight.
With a huff, I swing my legs up so I scale the tree again and hoist myself back up. Too bad Spidey decided to make another entrance. Body, meet ground. Ground, body.
Shit, that's gonna bruise.
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