Author's Note:
Wow, I was so surprised by the positive reception for this story! Thanks so much for your reviews, and here's the next installment. I'll have the next chapter up very soon, and again, thanks to everyone who reviewed and subscribed!
As fate would have it, getting attacked by an alpha is no excuse to not have the powers that be protect me from a rude awakening. Nightmares, heat flashes and the throbbing pain all along my back kept me restless as I drifted in and out of sleep, only to be awoken by the sound of the buzzer at seven in the morning.
See, a door bell won't wake me up, but a buzzer will, so that's what Heath installed on the door of my studio apartment when we started dating. The norm when using the buzzer is to buzz once and wait, then buzz twice if it's urgent. Whoever is at the door buzzes for two minutes flat, at which point I decide he or she won't go away if I ignore them for long enough. With blurry eyes and a stiff back, I trudge to the door and look through the peek hole.
Stiles and Miss McCall's son.
"What do you want?" I call, not opening the door. Stiles quickly releases the buzzer (much to the relief of my ears) and holds up a brown paper bag with grease stains on it.
"We brought you breakfast!" he cheerfully announces. My stomach growls and I groan: Why, why must my weakness be so simple? I unlock the door and open it, welcoming them in with a wave. Stiles drops the bag and Scott starts stammering, both their eyes wide. I look down at myself to try and figure out what's so bizarre, and sigh.
Apparently neither of them see topless girls too often.
"Excuse the mess, I'm going to put on something decent," I say, turning back to my bed as I shake my head. Geez, you'd swear I was stark naked. Girls go jogging in sports bras all the time; why can't I sleep in one?
My apartment is a small studio with a kitchen separated by a counter. The heavy curtains over the windows are drawn shut so the whole space in very dimly lit, barely allowing the boys to see the disaster zone my home really is. The bed is pushed up next to the window and serves as the couch when I have visitors, but because I wasn't counting on anyone coming by, it's covered in bandages and clothes. I grab the first over-sized t-shirt I can find and pull it over my head, careful to make sure it doesn't graze my skin too much. When I face the boys again, the door is closed and they've composed themselves. Well, as much as can be expected from teenage boys in general. Neither of them can look at me, and Stiles is beet red.
"How are you guys?" I ask, trying to be polite. Scott mumbles something and scratches the back of his head. Stiles holds out the bag he dropped.
"Heath said you like the steak breakfast sandwich," he states. I accept the bag gratefully and sit down on a stool at the kitchen counter.
"Thanks," I say, trying to project sincerity. Despite how much I would have liked to sleep some more, it's difficult enough to sit up, much less make any food. I point out the light switch to McCall. "You can turn on the light." He doesn't respond, his eyes focused on something by the wall over my bed. Stiles clears his throat, but still McCall is staring.
"Scott!" Stiles calls, punching his friend in the arm. "The light!" The so-named Scott snaps out of his daze and quickly turns on the light, exposing the mess of my home for all to see. Now Stiles is staring, and, taking a bite out of my steaming sandwich, I look over my shoulder to see what the big deal is about. Oh, right. The claw marks from Jeremy and Keelan's fight last week.
"Whoa, what happened there?" Stiles asks, not even bothering to cover up his surprise. "Did you and Heath let things get out of hand?"
I can't help but snort, and shake my head. He has no idea how passive Heath really is, even when it comes to our physical relationship. "Nah, that big mess on the wall is courtesy of my cousins," I answer, resting my elbows on the counter and continuing to eat. The greasy goodness is my favorite guilty pleasure.
"Are your cousins mountain lions?" Stiles presses, raising a brow.
"No, but they have a thing with ninja weapons," I say smoothly, rolling my eyes. "If I'm not mistaken, those were thanks to tiger claws or whatever." I shrug. "They said they'd fix it, and it's been a week. Don't trust teenage boys." At a look from him, I grin cheekily. "No offense."
"So, how are you feeling?" Scott speaks up. "I heard about the animal attack."
I cringe. "Along with the rest of town most likely."
"No, I'm sure that Joey hasn't heard about it yet," Stiles says reassuringly. I roll my eyes: Joey is the homeless man that lives outside of a deli in town. Everyone knows who he is, and he strangely knows about everybody.
"Joey reads the newspaper," I remind him. "He used to teach at Harvard, remember?"
"Oh... Then yeah, everyone's heard about it by now."
"So, you said you saw it was a mountain lion?" Scott cuts in suddenly. Stiles gives him a warning look, and I know why. It's obvious he's hiding something. But, I don't know him very well, and out of consideration for Stiles, I won't call him out on it.
"No," I say instead.
"But did you get a look at it?" he presses.
"No, I didn't," I answer shortly, and leave it at that. "Did Heath say anything?" I ask, changing the subject. Stiles scratches the back of his head awkwardly.
"Um, not really," he admits. "You know, he seemed kinda busy and all, working, and-"
"How's your back healing?" Scott interrupts. I eat the last bite of my sandwich while Stiles glares at him. The two of them have clearly come by to find out more information about the animal attack, and Scott is ruining the plan with his tactlessness.
"What Scott's trying to say is that we hope you're feeling better already," Stiles says pointedly. I clean my face with a napkin and smile warmly at Stiles.
"Thanks, I've been sleeping ever since you dropped me off," I explain. "It doesn't hurt as much anymore, thankfully."
"Can we see?" Scott asks. This time I can't stop myself from laughing.
"Seriously, Scott!" I exclaim, shaking my head. "What is it you want to know?"
My question catches his my surprise because he looks away and starts stammering nervously for a response. Feeling bad for his embarrassment, I grab the hem of my shirt and take it off in one movement. Stiles' eyes widen and he's frozen to the spot, but Scott moves forward eagerly. I turn around, giving him my back so he can see.
I already imagine what they're seeing. With the adrenaline rush and all, I hadn't realized just how badly the Alpha had gotten me. The scratches weren't too deep, but they ran from my lower back all the way up to my shoulder, all four claw marks. They had been throbbing and swollen, worrying the paramedic that they might be infected, by that had already been taken care of.
"Well, that... doesn't look too bad," Scott says carefully. I scoff and pull my shirt back on, breaking Stiles out of his daze.
"Yeah, right. Is your mom working today?" I ask. He nods in confirmation. "Good. I'll stop by the hospital before work to get it checked out."
"You're working like this?" Stiles exclaims. I shrug.
"I don't have much choice," I admit. "The light bill's coming up." I clear my throat and stand up from the bar stool. "Don't you two have school to go to or something?" Within a minute they're out the door, sputtering nervous goodbyes and promises to stop by when they get out of school. I wave them goodbye with a smile and lock the door behind me once they're gone. I don't doubt that the two boys mean well, but something is off about them, especially Scott. Despite that, I don't worry too much. So long as neither of them is with the Alpha, I don't have much to worry about, do I?
"Dude, seriously?" Stiles exclaimed, slapping Scott on the shoulder. "Be a bit more obvious, why don't you?"
"I'm sorry! I didn't know what to say!" Scott said defensively, pushing him back as they walked to Stiles' Jeep. "I panicked!"
"Well, now you don't have to worry about staking her out if she's a werewolf, because next full moon, she'll just show up and kill us!" Stiles hissed. "Not to mention she has a key to my house!" They both stopped as they saw the person standing by the Jeep.
"Derek? Did you follow us here?" Scott asked suspiciously. Derek uncrossed his arms and walked up to them, expression serious, as always.
"I got here just after you two," he said, nodding at the apartment building. "What did you find out?"
"There are claw marks all around her bed," Scott answered, not bothering to argue. When it came to werewolf issues, Derek happened to be the closest they had to an expert. "And I didn't see her last night, but the scratch seems to be healing faster than normal."
"Anything else?" he pressed. "Something that would connect her to the Alpha?" Scott shrugged.
"I don't know much except that she has a part-time job at the hospital and knows my mom," he admitted. Both the werewolves turned to Stiles, who grinned and crossed his arms.
"Need my help now, huh?" he said. Derek took a menacing step forward and Stiles immediately scrambled back. "Okay, okay! I might know a thing or two from my dad, but nothing that has to do with the Alpha." They both looked at him expectantly and he sighed.
"Fine. Conner Fitz, formerly known as Conner Daniels. She's emancipated and opted for early graduation, which is why she doesn't go to school with us."
"What happened to her family?" Derek asked.
"I don't know, family problems," Stiles explained vaguely, shrugging his shoulders. "Nobody knows what happened, but whatever happened, it happened a year ago, and thats why she changed her name." When neither of them said anything, he went on. "She's dating some musician tool, is a good sharpshooter, loves steak sandwiches and, last time I checked, runs every morning except after she's been attacked by a psychotic werewolf." He gave Derek a snarky look. "Want to know her sign and favorite color?" Derek narrowed his eyes and Stiles relented. "or, you know, maybe... not..."
"Look, we have enough going on with the alpha running around killing people and you not knowing how to control your instincts," Derek reminded them. "You two, find out everything you can. We need to know who she knows and what she's hiding."
"What, you think she's in cohorts with the Alpha?" Stiles asked, scoffing. Derek raised his brows.
"For your information, we don't know," he said, the warning on Stiles' life clear in his tone. "I'm going to watch her, but unless you two do something, you won't have to worry about waiting until the full moon to be torn apart." And with that verbal threat, he turned around and walked to his car. Stiles looked at Scott, his eyes wide.
"He... really scares me," Stiles admitted. "Like really, really scares me."
Despite working at the hospital, I've never been a big fan of being a patient.
What was supposed to be a walk in the park check-up of the already-healing claw marks on my back has quickly spiraled out of control into a whole ordeal that has the doctor contacting specialists on diseases transmitted through four-legged animals with fur, and has me wearing an open-backed hospital gown over my jeans as I sit on the edge of an examination table and wait. The emergency room isn't exceptionally full, but even so I hear plenty of movement and chatter beyond the separation curtains that have been drawn to give me privacy. Not like there's much need: I know for a fact that the nurses and doctors here see enough naked people on a daily basis to not be shocked by anything I have to offer.
Not to mention that it's already common fact amongst my friends that I'm comfortable with nudity. Back before my pack left, my brothers used to always run around barefooted and shirtless, and unlike in most households, the girls were allowed to, as well. So long as we were wearing a decent bra, nobody seemed to even notice if Susan or I decided it was too hot for clothing.
But, those days are gone now, aren't they?
My phone vibrates across the bedside table, and with a groan, I get down from the table to get it. The soreness is still in my body, but it's much easier to move now that I've all but overdosed on painkillers. I check the caller ID, and as expected, it's Heath. I let his call go to voicemail and turn the mobile off. I don't blame him for the attack, but I just really don't feel like talking to him right now. The sound of the curtain being drawn catches my attention, announcing the doctor's return.
When I look over my shoulder, however, I'm not met with the short and stout Dr. Brown. A man a couple years older than me stands there, his light-colored eyes training in on my back. He has pitch black hair and is wearing a dark jacket over a t-shirt, typical stud attire. And he has every right to consider himself a stud: he's very handsome with a pronounced jawline and strong facial features.
But, he's not supposed to be here.
"There's a thing called privacy," I prompt pointedly. Normally I wouldn't care about him being there, and would have even struck up a friendly conversation; but something about him makes me wary of him. He shakes his head and steps back.
"Wow, I'm sorry. That was rude of me. I was just coming to see a friend, and..." he trails off, getting a better look at my face. I raise a brow expectantly, urging him to hurry up and say whatever he's going to say. "Don't I know you from someplace?"
It's everything to not roll my eyes. "Worst pick-up line ever," I inform him calmly, lifting myself onto the examination table. "Sorry, but I don't know you, and your friend isn't here."
"No, I'm sure I've seen you..."
"Look, can you just give it a rest and get out?"
He snaps his fingers, apparently remembering. "You work at Stacey's Cafe, don't you?"
Insert foot in mouth. I let out a breath and drop my head into my hands. "Wow, now I feel like a jerk," I mutter. I compose myself and sit up, extending a hand. "Sorry. I'm Conner Fitz, and I promise I don't make a habit out of insulting customers. It's just been a long day."
He chuckles good-heartedly and shakes my hand. "Derek Hale. And I don't normally barge in on people like this," he promises. The name rings a bell, and I look at him more carefully.
"You seem kind of familiar," I say slowly. He furrows his brow, apparently confused. "What's your Stacey's poison?"
"Black coffee," he answers, a little too quickly. I let the white lie slide.
"I think that might be it," I lie. He smiles, a fake smile.
"Yeah, I'm what you might call an addict..." He trails off and steps back suddenly. The curtain is pulled to the side, and finally Dr. Brown appears.
"So, my friend at Yale has assured me that the heat flashes and night terrors might just be a result of the shock, and not necessarily rabies," he starts, eyes focused on the clipboard in his hand. Ah, the doctor friend from Yale: we all know that he's really another doctor from San Francisco. "He agrees that you need to stay hydrated, and just in case, I'm starting you on some broad-spectrum antibiotics. If the swelling increases, be sure to call me." He stops, just noticing that there's someone else in the room. "You're not Heath."
Derek frowns, obviously not understanding the comment. I sigh, more embarrassed by the Doctor's lack of professionalism than by Derek's clear inability to take a hint. "Derek, this is Dr. Brown, my boyfriend's father and my doctor," I introduce, hoping he understands by my look that the man isn't polite at all.
"Conner, I've already told you to call me George!" he scolds affectionately. "After all, it's only fitting seeing as you and my son are 'an item'." The last part is obviously directed to Derek, and I cringe.
"George, this is Derek. He's one of Stacey's favorite customers."
"You don't say!" Dr. Brown exclaims, enthusiastically shaking Derek's hand. Of course. The doctor is a 10-year patron of Stacey's Cafe, so any friend of Stacey's is a friend of his. "Pleased to meet you! What's your Stacey's poison?"
"Erm, black coffee," Derek answers. Dr. Brown wrinkles his nose.
"Doesn't have the best taste, does he?" he comments, walking over to the medicine cabinet on the wall. I give Derek an apologetic look and wave, politely dismissing him. Heath's father pretty much determined the day that he met me that I was too good to be true, which only meant I would end up cheating on Heath, so his attitude towards Derek isn't exactly personal, but I'd rather not expose more people to it than necessary. He's like this with every guy he sees me with. Derek nods and exits, leaving me with my father-in-law.
"And the blood tests?" I ask, changing the subject to one more medically-related.
"They came back looking beautiful," he assures me, flipping through the pages on his clipboard. "White blood count is only slightly elevated, red blood count is good, and your cholesterol is almost nonexistent." He smiles warmly. "Perfectly good health. Your symptoms are most likely just a result of your body fighting off infection."
"So there's nothing to be worried about?" I press. He laughs.
"Conner, just take a day or two to rest, and you'll be perfectly fine." He steps out and grabs the curtain. "Go ahead and go home, I'll take care of the paperwork."
"Thanks Dr. Brown."
Once he's gone, I pull off the hospital gown and get dressed again. That's an advantage of working at the hospital: less paperwork. In less than five minutes I'm walking out the hospital to my truck, which Jessie had the heart to drive to my apartment this morning. He's Heath's best friend, and a total sweetheart. He's pretty much the only male besides Heath that Dr. Brown trusts to have around me, and with good reason: Jessie's the biggest man whore you'll ever meet, but he's also the most loyal friend. He'd never make a move, and neither would I. It also doesn't make it harder that he is tall and lanky, not necessarily my type. If he happened to look more like, say, Heath or Derek, I don't think the doctor would trust me as much, even if I behaved like a saint around him.
Which is stupid. I'm not a cheater. I'd just as soon walk into the forest and howl for the Alpha before cheating on him.
Which I wouldn't do, either, because that would be stupid.
Obviously.
"Man, I've really done it this time."
"Dude, take it easy. She's just pissed right now."
"No, but I really, really think I messed things up."
"You can't have. It's Conner, for Pete's sake. You two are, like, made for each other."
"I don't know anymore, Jessie. Dad was saying she was with a guy at the hospital-"
"Stop right there. You know your dad's a gossip.
"-And Linda's been calling a lot more lately..."
Derek listened to the conversation between the two college students, rolling his eyes as he waited. It was ten o'clock and the cafe was shutting down after a good couple of hours of Open Mic singing. Conner had been too busy attending customers to notice that he was there, which was just as well: he didn't want her to start suspecting him any time soon. Of course he hadn't stuck around for the whole karaoke event; after listening to five minutes of the first volunteer sing "Don't Stop Believing", he'd left the shop, instead opting for a walk through the woods. The Hunters were also out looking for werewolves, so it was becoming increasingly difficult to search for the Alpha without being caught.
"Linda? Seriously?"
"It's not like that, Jessie."
"My ass it isn't. Whatever it is, put a stop to it, now. You don't find girls like Conner every day."
"What are you, her agent or something?"
"No, I'm your best friend, and it's my job to let you know when you're doing something stupid."
If the poor human only knew. Derek had gotten a look at her back injury, and Scott was right. Already it looked like a week of healing had passed, even if her skin was red and irritated, and she had told the doctor about night terrors. Night terrors were normal during a transformation. If his suspicions were correct and Conner had turned, then the fact that she hadn't gone running back into the so-named Heath's arms meant that she wouldn't. Most people's transformations were more than just physical; there were always the exceptions like Scott, who had little to no changes except that he possibly became even more obsessed with his girlfriend, but for the most part, their interests changed. He was already betting his money on her getting bored of her boyfriend and his crazy father.
The sound of heavy breathing reached him from the back of the building. It was time. Moving quickly and quietly, he made his way around the cafe and searched for the source of the sound. It sounded female and grunts of pain escaped between breaths, occasionally mixed with a whimper. Whoever was making the noise seemed to be in quite a lot of distress.
He found Conner quickly enough hiding in the shadow of the dumpster. She wore a work uniform of black pants and a black polo, but her purse slung over her shoulder indicated that she was already off the clock. Her head rested against the wall and she was curled over with her hands clutching at her stomach. Her arms shook and she seemed to be sweating, as well as completely unaware of his presence. He watched from a safe distance, and at first he thought she was crying. When she took a deep breath and then fell to the ground, however, he realized she was in pain. She was shifting. She gritted her teeth and dug her fingers into the dirt, trying to compose herself. She reached cement, and a crack sounded as she broke through it. He took a step forward, preparing to calm her down and for a panicked wolf fight. Scott hadn't fought him the first time he'd shifted, but he had the distinct feeling that this girl would.
Almost instantly a strong force collided into his side, knocking him to the ground. He rolled over and jumped to his feet, baring his fangs and extending his claws. Surely enough, the person that had hit him was another werewolf, an a pissed off one, at that. Conner exclaimed something, but he ignored her as he took in the small werewolf in front of him with the glowing blue eyes. He was small and scrawny, clearly a young werewolf, but also a natural-born wolf like himself. The werewolf growled, warning him that he had to leave.
Derek had expected the alpha to go after the girl, but apparently there were more players to take into account. Not a problem: a scrawny wannabe beta wasn't an issue to put back in place. He roared back, only to get cut off by the sound of a silenced gunshot. Pain exploded in his shoulder, blood blossoming into his shirt from the entry and exit points. He whorled around to attack whoever had shot him, counting on a fight of two on one. The beta took the opening and ran away.
Conner stood there, a pistol in her hands and pointed at him. She was still sweating and breathing heavily, but her hands and stare were completely steady as they focused on him. She should have been a wolf already, but she wasn't. She was just very, very pissed off. "Your leg goes next," she warned, not even bothering to raise her voice. She knew he'd hear her. "Good luck running away with a busted leg." Derek growled, and she narrowed her eyes. "There's another one where that wolf came from, and the next bullet has wolfsbane, so you can go ahead and try to pick a fight if you're feeling suicidal."
He let out a snarl and marched forward. Her tough girl act was just that: an act. Without hesitation she shot again, just barely giving him enough time to dodge so that the bullet only grazed his thigh. He fell to one knee and she took advantage, backing up several yards so that she was at the corner of the building and almost out of his sight.
"Whoever the hell you are, tell that Alpha friend of yours to back the hell off!" she ordered angrily, putting the safety back on her gun. "I'm an Omega, and I plan to stay that way." Without explaining any more she stuffed the gun into her purse and walked away, her quick strides giving away how nervous she was. An Omega? That would have to mean she was a werewolf, which she clearly hadn't been until possibly the night before. And yet, she knew enough to determine that he wasn't an alpha, and to know what an omega was. Even Scott didn't know what an omega was, and he was a werewolf! And why had that beta protected her?
The only positive thing he'd gotten out of the confrontation had to be that she also was against the Alpha. Then again, even that wasn't much of a groundbreaking truth: everyone and their mother was against the Alpha. Only now, she thought he was a part of the killer's pack, when he'd really been watching her all day to make sure she didn't eat somebody. Great. Just... Great.
Hey guy, hope you enjoyed it :D Just in case, this takes place between episodes 3 and 4, after Scott knows Derek isn't the one killing people, but before Kate arrives.
And sorry about the lack of the page breaks!