A/N: So sorry I missed the update yesterday, but better late than never!
here's talk of and a (sort of) description of a seizure in this chapter, since this is where we first meet everyone's favourite she-wolf, the beautiful and greatly missed Erica Reyes. I don't know if any talk of seizures is upsetting to any of you, so I'm just giving fair warning now. Also, I don't suffer from epilepsy myself, and neither does anyone I know, so everything I've written about them comes from Teen Wolf and my own basic knowledge of the condition. I may have gotten things wrong, so if I have, corrections would be greatly appreciated from anyone with more knowledge than I. In addition, Kate is brought up, and there's some not very nice words about her mental health. Just another warning. At times, it kind of sounds like Amber is really dismissive of these people and their suffering, and I don't want it to come across as offensive, so I'm really sorry if it does.
Also, again with the timeline. I genuinely believed that the Erica transformation took place in one day, but as I re-watched the episode to write this chapter, I realised that probably wasn't the case. However, we'll just pretend it was. Awesome.
I don't own Teen Wolf. Shock Horror.
"Eliminating the threat, those are the words he used?" I asked Allison over the phone as I sat in my car in the school parking lot.
"Yeah, those words exactly," she clarified, her voice hushed and breathy. "I'm pretty sure they're not really looking to give him much of a second chance."
"Oh, dear lord."
"Tell me about it," Allison agreed. Slumping back in my seat, my eyes settled on the rear-view mirror, where I could see the big doors slam open and Stiles barrel through. Just the guy I wanted to see.
"Okay, Stiles is here, give me a second."
I quickly opened my door and hoped out, catching Stiles' attention as I slammed it shut and rounded the car to meet him at his Jeep. He frowned at my probably unexpected presence at the school so late, so I pulled the phone away from my ear and put it on speaker.
"Allison?" I called out, making sure she could hear me.
"Yeah, I'm here. You got Stiles?"
"Yeah," Stiles answered for me, his frown deepening. "What's going on?"
"My dad and Gerard is what's going on," she replied, her voice laced with anger. "They kept asking me questions about Lydia and how she was bit by Peter. And then they sent this guy out-"
"Wait, what?" Stiles interrupted, his face stricken. "What guy?"
"He was dressed as a sheriff's deputy," I answered, and his mouth fell open in the same realisation that had hit me a few minutes ago when Allison had first told me. They would walk right through the station and no one would even notice something was wrong until Isaac turned up dead.
"They've sent him to get Isaac," Stiles said, voicing everyone's thoughts.
"He was also carrying a box with something on it, like, uh…" Allison trailed off, thinking. "Like a carving, or something."
"Well what was it?" Stiles asked impatiently, his foot tapping against the tarmac.
"Hold on, hold on, it's in one of these books." Allison's end of the phone went quiet for a moment as she tried to figure out what the carving was of, and Stiles grew more anxious by the second. "Amber, I'm sending you a picture."
A second later I received the message, opening it up and staring at the picture Allison had sent. My mouth fell open. "Is that…"
"Yeah, Wolfsbane," Stiles finished for me, sighing.
"What does that mean?" Allison asked, her tone suggesting she wasn't sure if she really wanted to know.
"It means they're gonna kill him."
"I'll do what I can to slow him down, but I'm not sure I can be much help without actually killing him," Allison said, her voice panicked.
"Just do whatever you can, Ally," I pretty much begged, watching as Stiles sped down the road far too quickly to be legal on our way to the police station. "And be careful."
"I will," she promised, and I ended the call with her only to call someone else seconds later. When Jackson didn't answer, I tried again. And again. On the fourth try, it didn't even ring three times before it went to voicemail. I scoffed.
"The dick declined my call," I explained at Stiles' frown, and I left him a message. "Okay, Sonny, when you're done being a complete ass, could you please call me back? I need your help."
I hung up again, throwing my head back against the seat with a sigh, and I watched as Stiles took a corner I wasn't expecting him to make.
"I thought we were going to the station."
"We are," Stiles explained. "We just have to make a quick stop along the way."
I rolled my eyes. "You better not be stopping for a Big Mac." Stiles scoffed.
"Please," he complained. "If I'm gonna stop in the middle of a life or death situation to grab some fast food, it's going to have to be something better than a Big Mac. A burrito, maybe."
I shook my head, about to make a comment about his priorities and how Big Mac's are much better than burritos, when my phone buzzed in my hand. For a split second I thought Jackson had grown a conscience and called me back, but the name along my screen read Ally Argent instead of the Sonny I was hoping to see. I picked up, and put her on speaker.
"Hey Ally," I greeted.
"Did you slow him down?" Stiles asked. Apparently there was no time for manners tonight.
"You could say that…" our resident huntress answered cryptically. Stiles looked over to me, an eyebrow raised, and I just shrugged, none the wiser.
"Okay, well we're on our way to the station now," Stiles continued.
"Where's Scott?"
"Still at Isaac's," I answered as Stiles took another turn.
"Does he have a plan?"
Stiles scoffed lightly. "Yeah, but not a very good one. And, unfortunately, we don't have enough time to come up with anything better."
"That sounds promising," I muttered.
"What's the plan?" Allison asked. Stiles sighed.
"There's a duffel bag; it should be with Scott, at Isaac's house. You're gonna need to use the chains in the bag and lock him in a freezer."
It was quiet on both ends of the phone for a second, before Allison and I answered with a simultaneous "what?"
Stiles sighed again, shrugging. "He'll explain the plan to you when you get there, just hurry up," he ordered, glancing up at the full moon. "We don't have much time left. He said he's in the basement."
"Okay," Allison said unsurely, huffing out a breath. "I guess I'll talk to you guys later. Be careful, guys. That hunter has an arrow in his thigh, so he's gonna be pissed." Before I could ask her about the arrow, and why on earth she didn't aim for the knee just for the sake of a good joke, she hung up. Stiles just shook his head.
"Remind me to never get on her bad side."
Apparently, our stop along the way was little old Derek Hale, who I hadn't seen hair nor hide of since the night of the formal. Well, unless you're counting the dream I had with him and Jackson, and I certainly wasn't. I climbed over the seats when we pulled up beside him, allowing him to ride shotgun (with only a weird, distasteful look in my direction in lieu of thanks), and before the door had even shut we were off again. The ride was silent, everyone a little too preoccupied with tonight's events for idle chitchat.
We stopped outside the station a few minutes later, and Stiles turned in his seat to face Derek and I. "Okay, the keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox in my father's office. The problem is getting past the front desk." He gestured towards the wide windows of the building, were I could see the deputy there.
Derek took one look at the deputy and moved to get out of the car. "I'll distract her."
"Woah, woah, woah, you?" Stiles asked, a hand bunched in the shoulder of Derek's jacket to stop him from moving. Derek looked back slowly, raising an eyebrow at Stiles' hand. "You're not going in there." Derek continued to look between Stiles and Stiles' hand, until, finally, he caught on, and quickly removed his hand. "I'm taking my hand off."
"You know, Mr Hale, you're kind of terrifying," I admitted, smiling innocently when he turned to look at me with that same, odd look on his face. He turned back to Stiles, his eyebrows still raised.
"Why can't you be more like her?" he asked, before sighing. "I was exonerated."
"You're still a person of interest," Stiles argued.
"An innocent person."
"I- you? Yeah, right!" Stiles laughed, and from Derek's unimpressed face, I don't think he appreciated the insinuation behind Stiles' words. "Okay, fine," Stiles gave in. "What's your plan?"
Derek frowned, frowning back at me for a second before looking at Stiles like he was a three year old. "To distract her," he said slowly.
"Uh huh, how? By punching her in the face?"
"Oh, my lord," I muttered, a hand coming up to cover my face as I sighed. Derek laughed, very sarcastically.
"By talking to her," he explained, and, I'll admit, the scary guy's plan actually made some sense.
"Okay, alright, give me a sample," Stiles continued, and if he didn't stop talking soon Derek was probably going to hurt him. "What are you going to open with?"
"Stiles, are you seriously still talking?" I asked, incredulous. Derek remained silent, and Stiles sighed, nodding his head slightly.
"Dead silence. That should work beautifully."
"Stiles, please stop talking," I begged, but of course, he didn't listen.
"Anything other ideas?" he asked Derek.
"I'm thinking about punching you in the face," Derek answered, and I couldn't tell whether Stiles was more scared or offended by the comment. Derek got out with one last parting grin, and after a huff, Stiles followed, holding the door open for me to climb out. We walked in behind Derek, Stiles creeping the entire way even though there was no one to creep by yet, and waited as Derek walked up to the front desk, leaning against in casually.
"Good evening," the deputy said as she wandered out of the back room. "How can I help…" she trailed off as she looked up at Derek, and, I have to admit, I'd be pretty dazed too, if I was presented with that smile. "…you?" I let out a quick, appreciative gush of air, and Stiles rolled his eyes at me.
"Hi," Derek said simply, and it was enough to grab every ounce of attention that deputy had in her.
"Hi," she responded brightly. I heard Stiles scoff beside me.
"Uh, I have a question. Uh… sorry," Derek apologised bashfully, that brilliant smile still on his face. "I'm a little thrown, I wasn't expecting someone…" Stiles gestured forward with his hand, and slowly crept along the wall.
"Like, me?" the deputy asked, and Derek laughed a little.
"Uh, I was gonna say 'so incredibly beautiful', but, yeah, I guess that'd be the same thing." Okay, I could pretty much hear the eye roll coming from Stiles at that.
We crept past the front desk, bolting it through the door at the last second, and breathing great sighs of relief once we were finally in the clear. Stiles led the way to his dad's office, moving quickly and quietly, and my phone buzzed in my hands with a message as we entered the room.
Ally Argent – Done. Scott is locked in a FREEZER(!) and I am freaking out. Let me know how everything goes on your end.
Stiles looked back at me for a second, his mouth open in shock. "Are you really socialising right now?" I glared, shoving my phone into my jeans pocket, and holding my now empty hands up to show him.
"It was Allison, letting us know that Scott is cozied up in the Lahey's freezer." Stiles nodded distractedly, glancing around the room and heading over to the lockbox on the wall.
"Good. It should restrain him until the moon goes-" he stopped suddenly, and my stomach sank.
"What?" I asked. "What is it?"
He turned around, showing me the open, and empty, lockbox. "Someone already has them," he said, and we both turned around and rushed back out of the door and into the hallway.
"Where's the holding cell?" I asked him as we strode through the winding halls, staying a step behind him so I could follow his lead.
"It's just around-" we both stopped as we rounded a corner and almost walked right into a deputy. "Oh, uh…" Stiles stammered, my eyes falling closed as Stiles tried to think up any excuse. I sighed, opening them, and something caught my eyes. Something metal, sticking out of the deputy's thigh.
I swallowed, tugging on Stiles' sleeve until I realised that he had seen it too.
"Oh, shit."
Before either of us could move, the 'deputy'/hunter had already grabbed Stiles by the sleeve and tugged him back, quickly wrapping hand over his mouth. I opened my own mouth, about to call out to Derek, when he held up the syringe in his free hand.
"Did you know Wolfsbane is also poisonous to humans?" the hunter asked me, holding up the syringe so I could clearly see the liquid inside of it. "I can get the werewolf later, should I… run out of Wolfsbane," he warned. He raised an eyebrow, challengingly, and I sighed. "One noise from you, and this goes straight in his neck. Got it?" I nodded, sending a look of apology to Stiles, who just seemed to accept our fate with a huff, and the hunter nodded me ahead of him. "You go first. And, in case you decide to make a run for it, try to remember that I'm essentially holding your friend's life in my hand."
"I still don't know if I'd call him a friend,exactly," I muttered as I walked on ahead, and the hunter groaned as if he realised he'd been stuck with the talkative hostages. "But I get your point."
"Good to know," he muttered.
"Also, I don't actually know where we're going," I admitted, strolling casually down the hall as though Stiles wasn't inches from possible death behind me. I really hoped Derek was listening to us right about now.
"To the holding cells," the hunter answered on a sigh, and I rolled my eyes. Turns out, hunters don't have to be the brainiest of the bunch.
"I know that, dumbass. Jeez, I meant I don't know the direction in which the holding cells are."
The hunter grunted, and I slowed to a stop, spinning around to face him with a shrug.
"Did I tell you to stop?" he warned.
"No, but you also didn't tell me which way to go," I countered. I pouted in thought, shrugging again. "Maybe the jackass you have there and I should swap places. I'm sure he knows the station like the back of his hand."
"Nice try, sweetheart, but that's not happening."
"Don't ever call me sweetheart again." What good was an alpha werewolf as back-up if he didn't actually help you when you needed him?
"Just take a right, before I get bored and decide to attempt to poison the both of you with one syringe."
I huffed, spinning back around and walking up the hall, taking a right. "Just FYI, that's incredibly unhygienic." I heard the guy huff again.
"Do you really think I care about hygiene?"
"You? No, not at all; I smelt you before I saw you. I, on the other hand-"
"Okay, listen, I'm only going to say this once," the hunter said, his voice low and angry, and, okay, maybe aggravating the vicious, potential teenage-werewolf killer with a sharp, poison filled object at Stiles' throat wasn't the best idea. I didn't stop walking, figuring that maybe getting it over with would be the best way about this now. "If you open your mouth to do anything other than breathe one more time, I'm going to poison this one, and then find some other, probably less efficient but no less enjoyable, way to kill you. You got that, sweetheart?" I sighed, folding my arms over my chest, and nodded. "Good. Okay, how about we all just- oh, for the love of God-"
Stiles, being the brilliant genius I'm sure he'll one day prove himself to be, had grabbed the fire alarm while the hunter was busy focusing his threats on me, pulling it and causing the loud ringing and flashing lights to flood the hall. At that point the hunter kind of just threw Stiles forward, the momentum shoving the both of us through an open doorway. Stiles regained his footing and grabbed my arm, pulling me further into the room as the hunter glared at us.
"The two of you are more hassle than the goddamn arro-" the hunter didn't finish his sentence, his attention drawn instead to something behind us. Stupidly, because it definitely could have been a trick to distract us and kill us both, we turned around to see that he was staring at a holding cell, the door of its hinges and the inside without an occupant. The two, in my mind, only equalled to one thing. And that one thing was confirmed when I heard a yell from behind me. Stiles and I both swung around, taking a few massive steps back as we watched Isaac – the wolfed-out version – throw the hunter into a wall, releasing the syringe from his grip and smacking his head back against the concrete wall, knocking him out.
That's when his attention was turned to us.
"Okay, that's not good," Stiles muttered under his breath, and I could barely keep myself from rolling my eyes at the obviousness of the statement. But with the werewolf currently scrutinizing Stiles and I like a dog would a squirrel, now didn't seem like the best time to take my eyes off of the human-predator in front of us.
"Do we… do you think he recognises us?" I hoped aloud, and Stiles almost laughed.
"My best friend tried to kill me several times when he first turned," he said, grabbing my arm again and pulling me to the side so the desk stood between us and Isaac, just as, thank everything that is good and holy in the world, Derek burst through the door, smashing the abandoned syringe on the floor with his boot and drawing Isaac's attention away from us. For a second, at least, until Isaac decided we were far more interesting and crouched, ready to launch himself at us, and I thought, this is it, this is how I'm going to die. I took another step back, hitting the wall behind me and feeling it tremble when Derek roared, his eyes a bright red, throwing Isaac into a heap of shivering submission on the floor. I actually whined in relief when Isaac looked back up at Derek, terrified, and his face was back to normal, and I didn't realise I was sliding down the wall until I hit the floor, bringing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. Stiles sagged forward, leaning against the desk like he couldn't keep himself upright.
"How did you do that?" Stiles asked.
Derek smirked over his shoulder at us, his eyes a much more human blue. "I'm the alpha."
"You should go with them," Stiles murmured, gesturing to Derek and Isaac as they left the room, intent on getting as far away from here as possible before the rest of the sheriff's department showed up. "I can explain everything to my dad."
I shook my head, my arms wrapped around me as I sat on the desk. My legs hung over the side, short enough that my feet didn't hit the floor, and I swung them under the table and back out, the sensation oddly comforting. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather stay." I sniffed, looking up at Stiles with a small smile. "Werewolves," I said, like it explained everything, and from Stiles' face, I guess it kind of did.
"Okay, well, if that's the case, we better get our stories straight." I scoffed.
"Sure. Let's just add obstruction of justice to our records, shall we?"
Stiles raised an eyebrow, shrugging. "We can tell them werewolves did it, if you'd prefer."
I smiled sarcastically, and then the ringing all around us stopped seconds before the sheriff entered the room, a few deputies not far behind. He looked down at the unconscious 'deputy' on the floor, before his eyes found Stiles, and he raised his eyebrows in question. The younger Stilinski looked around for a second, noting the fake deputy, the ruined cell door and the missing murder suspect, before finally settling on, by far, his finest argument to date.
"He did it."
"But it wasn't a werewolf?" I asked Allison, holding the phone between Stiles and I as he drove us back to the school so I could pick up my car. "Are you sure?"
"One hundred percent sure," Allison said, her voice trembling less now than it had been at the beginning of the phone call. "Firstly, I'm pretty sure it was green."
"And scaly," Scott cut in from Allison's end. Turns out, when the girl you love is screaming upstairs and in mortal danger, even the full moon and a chained freezer can't keep a werewolf away. He was in total control, even with the moon still full and round and high in the sky. "There were definitely scales."
"So, what, it's some kind of reptile?" I asked, and Stiles just groaned.
"As if werewolves weren't enough trouble for us, the universe just had to throw us a supernatural curveball."
"And then he takes the bag off my head, and my dad is sat across my, gagged and tied to a chair too!" Allison exclaimed as we made our way into the gym from the girls' locker room. "And then my dad's struggling to get loose, breaks the chair and stands up, and I'm thinking, 'great, he's free, we're gonna be okay', only it was all a trick, and he's trying to train me or something."
"Train you?" I scoffed. "Please, he's trying to mentally scar you for life."
"Well, I think he's succeeding," she sighed, folding her arms across her chest as the rest of the class stood around waiting for Coach to get out of his office and start the class already. "Seriously, it took me two and a half hours to get out of there. It was horrible."
"I'm not surprised," I admitted, shaking my head in sympathy. "If my dad tied me to a chair and left me there, I'd kick his ass." I thought about it, then winced. "Though maybe kicking your dad's ass isn't the best idea."
"Yeah, I don't think so either," she agreed, shaking her head solemnly, before she started to giggle at the grimace still on my face. I rolled my eyes playfully at her, and then Coach began shouting at us all as he made his way over to us.
"Today, class," he yelled, coming to a stop in front of the large group and clapping his hands together. "We are going to have a little fun. In case you're blind and/or stupid, there's a big climbing wall waiting behind me. Would anyone like to hazard a guess as to what we'll be using it for?"
"Target practice?" I heard someone suggest from the back of the group.
"Damn it, Greenberg!" Coach whined loudly, stomping a foot. "No, not target practice. Believe it or not, we'll be climbing the climbing wall."
"Uh, Coach?"
Coach sighed heavily. "Yes, Greenberg?"
"I'm afraid of heights."
"Of course you are," he said, mostly to himself. "Face your fears, Greenberg. You can go first." He looked around the room, his eyes settling on Danny, and his face lit up into its usual scarily eccentric smile. "Mahealani! Show him how it's done."
"Not sure that's really the best way to conquer ones fears," I muttered, shrugging. "But then who am I to judge? I faced my fears of death by spending the past two months staring it in the face over and over again." Allison smiled at me, dimples bright.
"Did it work?" she asked, her eyes narrowing teasingly.
"Not even a little," I admitted, smiling. As I turned to face her, I noticed wide, puppy-dog eyes staring in our direction, and grinned. "Well, with the way McCall is staring at you, anyone would think you're dating." Allison turned around, a small, private smile lighting up her face as she tried to keep a lid on all the feelings dancing around. "Seriously though," I interrupted, watching her watch him watch her. "You guys really should be a little more subtle about it." Allison sighed wearily.
"I know. It's just really hard, pretending that I don't love him."
"Maybe you don't have to pretend that much," I suggested, shrugging one shoulder as the young huntress turned back to frown at me. "Your parents know how you feel about him, and you can't help that. It's the time you spend with him that they want to put a stop to." Allison raised her eyebrows, letting out a small hum. "In their minds, the love will dissolve eventually, if they keep you away from him. So, for now, all you have to do is pretend that you don't see him outside of school, and everything else you can worry about later down the line."
Allison pursed her lips, a small smile playing on them. "You make a very good point. Love doesn't just go away overnight, especially not first loves."
"Exactly," I nodded, smiling along with her now. When Danny reached the top of the wall and dropped down, Greenberg sweaty and not far behind, even though he'd only made it about half way up, Coach called out for the next pair of volunteers. Allison raised her hand, and Scott's shot up seconds later, both of them wearing excited and barely contained grins. They weren't subtle, but they were damn well adorable.
A few moments after Allison and Scott had raced to the wall and secured themselves to the wire, Stiles appeared at my side.
"Hey," he greeted, nodding once and smiling. I narrowed my eyes.
"Uh, hi," I repeated, almost like a question. "What's up?"
"Nothing. You?"
"Are we really doing this?"
Stiles frowned. "Doing what?"
"The small talk thing. It's really not my forte." Stiles smiled.
"So you're finally admitting there's something you're not amazing at?"
"I ain't ever said I'm amazing at everything," I argued, crossing my arms and sniffing. "Just most things." Stiles scoffed, and I rolled my eyes. "So, are we?"
"Are we what?"
"Are we doing this? Are we small talking when we both know neither of us wants that?"
Stiles huffed, crossing his arms too. "I don't want to be your friend any more than you want to be mine."
"So why-"
"Would you let me finish?" he asked, his eyes widening at my, admittedly, rude behaviour. "Neither of us wants a friendship here, I get that. But Allison and Scott are totally not dating, and with everything else going on in our lives, I think it's in both of our best interests if we acknowledge the fact that it's probably going to happen eventually."
I groaned, letting my head fall back and staring at the ceiling for a second, before finally turning back to Stilinski. "I can't promise I'll be nice."
"Neither can I."
"You'll probably still hate me most of the time. I will rarely give you reason to actually like me."
"I wouldn't expect anything more from the best friend of the mascot for high school jackasses," Stiles admitted, shrugging. "All I want to know is if I can count on you if my life is ever seriously in danger, and if group outings with the non-couple won't be significantly more awkward than they really need to be." I pursed my lips. I'll admit, a truce between the two of us would be mutually beneficial. And if we were stuck in many more life-or-death situations, it would probably happen eventually. At least this way it wouldn't sneak up on me when I'm least expecting it.
"You've got yourself a deal, Stilinski," I decided, holding out a hand so we could shake on it. Then he released me hand, and things settled into an incredibly awkward silence. We stood there for a long moment, neither of us saying anything. "I'll admit, I kinda figured the whole 'friendship' thing came with a 'no awkward silences' clause." Stiles laughed, tilting his head like he agreed, and then an muffled yelp from the wall grabbed my attention just in time for me to be able to witness Scott plummeting to the padded floor. The gym burst into loud giggles as Scott caught his breath.
"McCall," Coach laughed as he sat down beside Scott. "I don't know why, but your pain gives me a special kind of joy."
I looked up to Allison, saw her watching Scott with an almost guilty look until she spotted me. She beamed, giggled to herself and jumped down the wall, landing elegantly on her feet next to a still breathless Scott. "You really should watch your step up there, McCall," I warned, grinning. "The climbing wall can be a dangerous place." Allison laughed again, loudly, and Scott laughed at himself before finally standing up and detaching himself from the wire.
"Alright, next two," Coach called out, spinning around to grin at me. "Wilson, you're up. With…"
"Please don't say Stilinski," I muttered under my breath, closing my eyes. "Please don't say Stilinski."
"Hey," the boy in question complained. "I thought we made a friendship deal."
"And I will only be able to honour that friendship deal if I spend as little time with you as possible," I replied, tilting my head as Coach continued to spin around the group with his pointer finger sticking out. He stopped, suddenly, and held out his arms, gesturing to the one person I didn't want him to.
"Stilinski!" he shouted excitedly, and Stiles just turned to smile at me.
"This is gonna be so much fun!" he exclaimed, already moving towards the wall.
"Coach, does he have to be attached to the wire?" I asked, all seriousness. Coach just laughed like it was a joke. My whole life is a joke right now. I'd made a deal with the devil less than two minutes ago, and I was already regretting it.
"That right there is why you're my favourite, Wilson," Coach cackled, pointing at me. Suddenly, the laughter stopped and he shooed me towards the wall. "Now get up there before Stilinski, or I'll partner you with him for the rest of the semester." Gross.
I strapped myself in and got ready, looking over my shoulder at Stiles to see him grinning at me and bopping his head as if he was listening to music. What have I gotten myself into?
Coach blew his whistle, and I pushed off of the handholds and started the climb up the wall. To give him credit, Stiles pretty much kept pace with me the entire way. About two thirds of the way up, however, his foot slipped, and I grinned to myself at the half a foot advantage his mistake gave me. I beat him to the top, to Coach's pleasure, and smiled victoriously all the way back down.
"You got lucky," Stiles complained as we unstrapped the wires from us, and I shrugged, still smiling.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," I smirked, patting him on the arm before walking over to join Allison. She smiled proudly at me as I approached.
"Nicely done," he praised, and I just grinned back.
"Thank you, thank you. It's all in the footwork." Looking and the room, I spotted Jackson in the back, stood alone. Danny wasn't far from him, talking to one of the other lacrosse players, and yet Jackson was paying no attention to either of them. "Have you seen Lydia?" I asked Allison.
"Not since we left the locker room. But I'm sure if you find Jackson…" She turned around, spotting him at the back and pointing. "And then find the furthest distance from him…" She spun on her heel, pointer finger moving with her as she finally stopped at the other end of the crowd, where, as she'd predicted, Lydia stood talking with Jessica. "You'll find her," Allison finished, a pleased smile on her face as she turned back to me. "Why?"
"It's really awkward with Jackson, and he's being a dick, and I think something's wrong with him," I admitted, sulking.
"You think something's wrong with him?" Allison asked, her tone suggestive. "As in, think, or think?" I raised an eyebrow.
"If you're talking about my uncanny ability to sense impending doom, then forget it. I haven't had one of those… episodes since the weekend."
"But that's good, right?" Allison suggested, her eyes widening slightly. "That means nobody's in any serious danger." I shrugged.
"A couple of days ago, I probably would have agreed with you," I confessed, sighing. "But I didn't get any feelings on Tuesday, and Stiles and I were at the mercy of a hunter and an out-of-control werewolf, while you and Scott found a new friend in a giant lizard." I shrugged, blowing out my cheeks on a breath. "I don't know about you, but stuff like that generally constitutes as 'serious danger' in my books." Allison frowned, deep in thought for a minute. She looked worried. "What is it?" I asked, concerned at her long silence.
"Do you think Scott's gonna grow a tail?"
I had to spend the rest of the period convincing Allison that no, Scott was not going to grow a tail, despite Allison's logical arguments that it helped balance and actual, real-life wolves have tails, so why wouldn't their humanoid counterparts also have them. I'll admit, it was a struggle. And just as I was opening my locker and about to take off my top, I got that feeling. The one I'd spoken to Allison about, the one I hadn't felt in almost a week. It wasn't like with Lydia, or the Sheriff; all I saw was a flash of the climbing wall, up close at first and then falling away, but combined with the suddenly sweaty palms and the pounding in my ears, it was enough.
"What is it?" Allison asked, her hand on my back as I clenched my eyes shut.
"Scott?" I muttered, hoping he'd hear it over all the noise and commotion going on in both of the locker rooms. "Scott, the gym."
"Scott?" Allison asked, worried. "Is Scott okay?" I nodded.
"Scott's fine, come on." I grabbed her other hand, pulling her along behind me as I rushed back into the gym, watching as Scott, nothing more than a vaguely familiar blur, flew across the room and stopped under Erica, the blonde epileptic girl who'd frozen on the wall earlier on, a second before she hit the ground. I heard Allison gasp beside me, and we both rushed over to them as Scott laid her writhing body down on the floor.
"She's seizing," I pointed out in case nobody had noticed yet, staying in control and totally not freaking out.
"Put her on her side," Allison ordered, and Scott did as she said, not letting go of Erica's hand as he turned to me.
"I felt it too," he whispered, his eyes wide and nervous. "Just before you told me, I felt it."
Everything that happened that point on was pretty much a fast and loud blur. Coach called an ambulance and shooed away everyone but Scott, whose hand Erica was still clinging to, even after the seizure had subsided. Everyone in the girls' locker room was buzzing with the recent events, each of them talking, or laughing, in several cases, about what had happened in the gym, and sharing stories about all the other times it had happened. I, on the other hand, just went about changing in silence, doing my best to ignore all the giggles and snarky comments coming from half of the other girls. One of the nastier comments, one about a video I really didn't care to watch, came from one of the girls who had been laughing about Allison and Kate the other day in the hall. I don't know who this girl was, or who she thought she was, but I swore to all that is holy, if she didn't shut her mouth soon, I'd do it for her. I much prefer the subtler arts of malice and manipulation to physical violence, but for her I would definitely make an exception.
Just as that though passed through my mind, I heard a low rumbling, followed by a crash and a scream. I turned to the commotion, and watched as the girl turned around to show the room her very wet, and now very see-through, white dress, her dripping gym clothes dropping from her hand to the floor with a wet thud. I lifted a hand to my mouth, trying to stifle the giggles as the broken sink behind her continued to spray water up into the air like a fountain.
Jemma Abraham, I heard was her name, saw me as she wandered down the hall after gym, stood beside Allison's locker, and I smirked at her when she looked my way. Her face turned hard, angry, and she stormed over to me.
"You did this," she seethed, and Allison turned around with a frown at the unexpected voice, only to burst into barely smothered giggles when she saw her outfit.
"And what did I do, exactly?" I questioned her, narrowing my eyes as I tilted my head. I saw Scott and Stiles stopping at the other side of the hall, Scott rifling around in his own locker as they both tried not to grin. I also noticed everyone else around us slowly drawing to a stop wherever they stood, their conversations dying down to silence. "Loosen the sink from the wall? Mess with the pipes? Put a tiny explosive inside the drain?"
Jemma just glowered. "I don't know what you did, but I find it oddly convenient that this happens to me while you stand by laughing, just a few days after you hear me talking about your friend's psychopathic, serial killer aunt." I pushed off the lockers, my face only an inch or two from hers, and her eyes widened.
"Amber, leave it," Allison said quietly, one of her hands coming up to wrap around my arm. I didn't move.
"Trust me when I say you better count your blessings that this," I gestured to her attire, "was not my doing." Allison tugged on my arm again, and I took a step back. "Next time I hear you talk shit about anyone that isn't yourself, you won't be so lucky." I let Allison pull me away then, tugging me down the hall and away from where Jemma was being checked over by her friends, like I'd actually laid a finger on her. As if.
She had to roam around the school in oversized lost-and-found gym clothes until her dress dried. And that took at least two periods.
"So," Lydia started, a small smile on her face as the bell rang, signalling the end of bio and the beginning of lunch. "I heard you had a little run in with Jemma Abraham after gym." I smirked.
"I didn't have anything," I argued, throwing my bag onto my shoulder and leading the way out. "She came up to me and accused me of sabotaging the sink." Lydia raised an eyebrow at me.
"Did you?"
I scoffed. "Of course not!" I said, pausing at my locker to spin in the combination. I shrugged. "Kinda wish I had now, though." Lydia grinned.
"It was a rather spectacular show," she admitted, laughing at the memory. Then her smile turned into a smirk. "I think I'll take my leave now."
I frowned at her. "What? Why?"
"You have a visitor," she explained, nodding her head to gesture over my shoulder. I turned, spotting Brett Ryan, my almost formal date, headed straight for me. I couldn't help the smile that took over my face. "I'll see you in the cafeteria," Lydia muttered teasingly from behind me, and I shot her a grin over my shoulder as she backed away. When I turned my attention back to Brett, he was close enough to see the shy smile playing on his lips.
"There's my favourite sophomore," he smiled, moving around me and taking Lydia's place so he could lean against the locker beside mine without my door in the way. "I haven't seen you since the formal."
"Things have been kind of hectic with me for the last couple of days," I explained, wincing apologetically. Brett just smiled.
"It's cool. Is everything okay with Lydia?"
I opened my mouth to answer, and then realised I still wasn't entirely sure. "I think so," I said carefully. "She'll be fine. It's Lydia Martin."
Brett hummed in agreement. "Nothing can keep that girl down for long." I smiled, sliding my biology book into my locker and closing the door. He looked like he wanted to say something else, so I turned, mirroring his stance and leaning against my locker, and waited. "I just wanted to make sure that, after everything that happened at the formal, and with Lydia going missing, you were still up for our date this Saturday?" he said, his voice raising at the end like he wasn't sure if it was a question or not, so I smiled, nodding.
"Definitely," I said, biting down on my lip to keep from grinning too much. That got even harder when his face lit up at my answer.
"Good. You finish at one, right?" I nodded. "I'll pick you up at four. And it's going to be so ridiculously cheesy and romantic that you're probably going to fall in love with me by the end of day."
"Is that so?" I asked, laughing. He nodded, his eyebrows raised in innocence.
"Oh, yeah. But I'd appreciate it if you'd at least wait until the third date to say the words out loud," he pleaded, those amazing green eyes sparkling. "I've kinda been looking forward to wooing you, and my entire plan falls apart if you're smitten with me right from the start." I pursed my lips, tipping my head slightly.
"Unfortunately, I think that ship may have sailed," I admitted, and his face went soft and made my legs go all kinds of wobbly. Then he shrugged.
"Ah, I guess I can make a new plan," he supposed aloud, smiling down at me brightly. I heard someone calling his name from down the hall, and he turned around to hold up a finger before turning back to me and standing up straight. "Four o'clock, Saturday." I nodded, completely unable to his my smile with the way he was looking at me. He sent me one last grin before spinning around and meeting up with the friend that had called him over, and I actually had to shove a fist in my mouth to keep from beaming. My cheeks were starting hurt.
After I'd composed my face into a less manic smile, I made my way to the cafeteria. I was late for lunch, so I knew the food choices probably wouldn't be the best, but I wasn't really in the mood to care about such tedious matters right now. I had a date. A real date, with an adorable guy who seemed to genuinely like me. And his face certainly didn't hurt matters. However, when I reached the cafeteria, I didn't spot Lydia anywhere. I'd been talking to Brett for a while, so I figured she'd be here by now. And then I saw Jackson, sitting hunched over his lunch tray, pushing his fries around the plate with a scowl. I strolled over to his table, throwing my bag onto the table and dropping into the seat across from him.
"What's up, Frowny?" I asked, leaning forward and propping my chin into my open palm. He glanced up at me, sighed, and then continued to play with his food like I wasn't even there. I took the fork out of his hand, stealing a fry for myself, and raised an eyebrow at him. It took him another minute or so to finally sigh and talk to me.
"I shouted at Lydia," he muttered quietly, staring holes into the table.
"What?"
"Nothing happened to me, the other night," he started, looking around to make sure no one was listening, and then shaking his head. "The night of the full moon, I set up a camera, to document my… transformation, the whole thing."
I frowned. "And nothing happened?" He shook his head. "Okay, do you know why? And what does it have to do with Lydia?"
"In answer to both of those questions, I think Lydia kind of… vaccinated me against the bite." I pieced it together in my head, and sighed, dropping the fork and taking a fry with my fingers.
"Because she was bit, and didn't turn, which means she's somehow immune." Jackson nodded.
"Exactly. And when I figured that might be why I didn't turn the other night, I just got so angry, and I took it out on her…" he dropped his head into his hands, and I let him sit there in silence for a minute until he raised his head again, looking the most sorry and un-Jackson that I've ever seen him. "She could barely even look at me, she was so scared."
"Of course she was scared, Jackson. She was attacked by a 'wild animal', nearly died, and then went missing, running around the woods naked only to not remember any of it. She's scared of just about everything right now, and you cornering her and blaming her for something she doesn't even know anything about ain't going to help her."
"I know!" Jackson argued, running both hands over his face. "I didn't mean to do it, I just got so pissed off and everything just kind of went a bit hazy." He looked up at me, eyes wide. "I didn't mean to scare her. I don't want her to be scared of me."
"Then next time you see her, don't shout abuse at her," I suggested, standing up and grabbing my bag. "Now I am hungry, so I'm going to grab myself some lunch." He nodded, his face solemn, and I smiled. "I will chew you out some more when I get back," I promised, and his face broke just enough to let out a short, breathy laugh, and I spun around, headed for the lunch line.
I was right; the choices this late into the lunch period were abysmal. I picked the best looking thing I could find, a chicken and mayo sandwich, and turned around to head back to my seat. I'd only taken a few steps, however, when my full attention was drawn to the doors, where Erica Reyes was making her return to the school after her seizure this morning. And quite a return it was.
Gone were baggy clothes, the unruly hair, the acne, even the slumped gait and the obvious lack of self-esteem. This Erica was… different. Confident and proud, she walked with her head held high and an 'I know I look hot' smirk on her flawless face and an outfit Lydia would be proud of. Speaking of Lydia, I drew my attention away from the new Erica for long enough to meet Lydia in the middle of the cafeteria, both of us looking from each other to Erica stealing some poor boy's apple, and very possibly his dignity, and back again several times. That's when Lydia slammed her hands down onto the table in front of us, looking between Scott and Stiles, that table's residents, with a gape.
"What… the holy hell… is that?"
"That's Erica," Scott answered, none of us able to look away as she grinned slyly at him from across the room, turned on her very high heel, and sashayed, yes, sashayed, back out of the cafeteria. As soon as Erica was out of sight, Scott and Stiles pushed back their seats and chased after her.
"What the hell just happened?" Lydia asked, still not looking from the last place we'd seen the newly stunning blonde. I gaped for a long moment, and shrugged when I couldn't find a solid answer.
"That's a very good question."
A/N: I'm really enjoying writing this story at the moment, so I hope you guys are enjoying reading it.
Don't forget to check out my Polyvore, Tumblr and Charahub accounts for more on Amber and my other OCs, as well as my 8tracks account for this story's playlist and my other favourites. All links are on my profile.
Thank you so much for the continued support, guys, and I'll see you next time.
