I don't care if it hurts,

I want to have control.

I want a perfect body,

I want a perfect soul.

- Creep, by Radiohead

Something cool and wet dripped on my cheek. I flinched and swiped at it, rolling over in my sleep and trying to ignore it.

It dripped again, this time trailing down the back of my neck. "Eughhh," My mouth curled up in disgust and I swiped at it desperately, praying it wasn't some sort of insect as I shot up. I froze when my eyes fell on an unfamiliar dirty brick wall. I looked down and saw that I was lying on a mound of trash, behind a dumpster in an alley outside a warehouse.

"Ugh," I sighed. "Really?... Not again," the crook of my arm screamed in protest as I slowly picked myself off the sticky pavement. I brushed off some slimy lettuce and broken glass, squinting at the black fabric of my jacket. It looked to be wet and shredded where my arm stung, and upon closer inspection I realized I was bleeding. Immediately, I suspected needles. Honestly, I wasn't that stupid… right? "Please be a cut, please be a cut, please be a cut…" I unzipped my hoodie and slowly peeled it off my arm.

A circle of red dots stood out angrily against my olive skin, and I squinted my eyes and tilted my head. The open air began getting to it, and the wound started to fester. "Fuck," I hissed. "Oh it burns, oh it burns, it burns, it burns—"

I shook my arm out and looked back down at it, my breaths quick and sharp as my mind slowly worked to explain why I am currently suffering from what appears to be a bite mark…

My mind flashed back to the night before, the events flooding my mind.

"Oh, my god." I blinked furiously and gaped down at the stinging bite on my arm. "Why did I say yes?" I hysterically stomped my foot and gestured down at the raw flesh. "Why would I say yes? What was I thinking? That crazy bastard bit me, he actually bit me!"

I looked around the empty alleyway and shook my head. "And now I'm talking to myself." I looked back down and watched as some fresh blood trickled over the dried bits, the cold air causing the wound to throb. "Damn it." I hissed.

There was nothing to be done for it. Unless I had a time machine, there's nothing I could do to change a damn thing now.

So now not only to I have to worry about drug dealers chasing after me—now I have Derek Hale the psychopath who's going to be hunting me, too. Great.

I crept to the end of the alley, jerking my sleeve back over my arm and ignoring the tight sting that my arm suffered in response. The streets were pretty slow this morning. That rain that the weatherman had been talking about yesterday morning finally came round, I guess.

I limped up the sidewalk, my hood pulled over my head and my arms crossed gently as I went. I ducked into a drugstore and my eyes flitted about. The cashier sat with his feet up and a magazine in his face, a phone nestled behind the pages in what was supposed to be an inconspicuous manner as he pecked away at the screen with his fingers.

I smiled to myself and casually circled the corner of the aisle with medical supplies. I stopped and glanced around, and upon seeing no one, examined the shelf of first aid kits. The smallest one only had band-aids and antibacterial wipes; not exactly what I needed… the only kit with the supplies I was looking for cost a whopping nineteen dollars, and it wasn't exactly tiny. I sighed and swiped it up angrily.

I quickly ducked out of the aisle and strolled up to the cash register, tossing the kit onto the top of the counter. The bored cashier peered at me from over his magazine, but made no move to scan the item.

I raised my eyebrows and forced a smile. "Crappy day out, huh?" I said, referring to the storm clouds looming outside. He popped his gum at me and slowly slid the magazine closed, his phone now nowhere to be seen. Well, I had to hand it to the kid. He was sneaky. He leaned forward on the stool and grunted monotonously as he proceeded to scan my purchase.

"That'll be twenty-one, oh-five." He held his open palm up greedily and I forced another smile as I slid the cash into his hand. That's the great part about being in the seedier side of Beacon Hills… no one gives a shit around here.

"Keep the change," I snatched my items and quickly fled the store.

"Wait," He called behind me. "Don't you want a bag?"

I ignored him and rushed into the street, scanning the buildings around me. Slowly making his way up from the side of the building was a man with a bandana over his head. He was bulky and I immediately recognized him to be one of the men from yesterday, and my heart jumped in my throat. Cursing, I turned and spotted a McDonald's. Clouds thundered overhead as I tottered my way down the sidewalk. The inside reeked of grease and diabetes, and I strode straight past the counter to the restroom.

Of course, it wasn't empty. That would be too easy, and I purposely avoided eye contact with the few women waiting to wash their hands and slammed a stall shut. I huffed under my breath as I gently closed the toilet seat and held my breath at the smell radiating from the stained plastic.

I tossed the first aid kit down and cursed myself for not carrying a weapon that isn't a broken taser on me as I fumbled with the plastic covering. Bringing it up to my teeth, I savagely tore the corner and peeled the rest of it off, jamming it down the waste dispenser nailed to the side of the stall.

I peeled off my jacket and laid it across the toilet, popped the kit open, and pawed through its contents. I pulled out the largest gauze pads, which were only three inches around, and ripped the packet open.

Hesitating, I peered down at the dried wound. It would likely become infected unless cleaned, but the restroom was full. I sighed to myself and shook my head at my own stupidity for ever giving Derek permission to freakin' bite me as I pressed the pad to my wound. I growled, as it stung sharply, and ignored the tears burning my eyes while I wrapped the cotton wrap around my elbow and secured it with the butterfly bandages from the kit.

It was pathetic, and it probably wouldn't hold or do much good, but it's what I had. I settled onto the dirty floor and sighed heavily.

I picked up the kit and dug through it some more. Band-aids, cotton pads, antiseptic wipes—I pulled out a small, square plastic package and snickered bitterly. Ibuprofen, 8 capsules. I tossed the sugar pills (because that's basically what they are to me) back into the pack and clamped it shut. I shoved my hand into my jacket pocket, where it still lay across the toilet, and extracted my orange pill bottle. I rattled it slightly and relaxed upon hearing the pills inside, popping it open and laying four in my hand.

Their protective coating glittered under the harsh restroom lights and I sighed to myself before tossing them back.

Suddenly, I realized the restroom had grown silent. My eyes slowly dropped from the ceiling, my hand lowering from my mouth, and I cocked my head as I listened. I don't know how to explain it but I… I could feel his presence. I swallowed the pills roughly, dryly.

It was like a pull, beckoning me to stand and find my way to him. I stifled the urge and slowly pulled myself to my feet, turning to face the closed stall.

I stood there breathing, and listening for a moment. I know he's there. I can feel him waiting for me. My heart rate picked up and I reached out with trembling hands, the first aid kit and jacket forgotten on the toilet. I slid the lock back and pulled the stall open, bracing myself for whatever would happen, and looked into the room to see—

Nothing. No one was there with me. I looked at the sinks, all shut off, all still wet from the women who had cleared out. The door was shut and undisturbed. I frowned and cautiously stepped out of the stall, peeking around in the corners of the room.

Empty.

I frowned and looked back at my mess I had left strung across the toilet behind me, sighing in relief and… disappointment? I shook my head to myself and began to gather my things when suddenly, I could hear voices from outside the restroom.

"Your niece, you say? Yeah, I mighta seen her. It's gonna cost ya, though." I stiffened and turned back to gape at the door. There was a pause and then, "Alright, alright! Relax. She just came in a few minutes ago. Seemed in a hurry to get to the restroom, didn't even get food before barreling in. I knew she looked sketchy, didn't I say she looked sketchy, Marty? I did! Who? That girl who came in, remember?... What?... Oh, yeah. She's ain't come out yet."

I didn't stick around to hear more as I panicked and ran to the door, but came up short upon hearing the voices grow closer and footsteps echoing across the tiled floor outside. In the back of my mind, it occurred to me that I could hear these men through the walls, as they had been in the front of the restaurant, while the restrooms are situated in the back. Not to mention the fryers and the customers that emitted their own chatter. No way I should be able to hear them, but…

Clicking the lock on the door handle, I backed up and looked around the room frantically, and spotted an open window. I don't recall it being open before, but I didn't waste a second as I scrambled over to it and tugged myself up.

Blinding hot pain seared through my arm as I dragged myself up to the windowsill, but I promptly ignored it and shoved my head through the opening. The footsteps reached outside the door and the handle rattled.

"Hello? Is anybody in there?" A female voice called. My heart pounded in my throat as I desperately flung my leg over the window and swung myself down to the ground. I could hear the key being shoved into the lock in the restroom as I pushed myself off the pavement and crouched under the window. The parking lot was full, but the window was hidden to the side.

I made eye contact with a girl in the drive thru lane. She casually turned upon hearing a thud, and did a double take when she spotted me. I immediately recognized her as Allison Argent. I froze only momentarily, but the sound of the restroom door being flung open and numerous footsteps filling it kicked me into motion.

I flew across the short distance to her car, launched myself across her hood, and broke into a dead sprint. From the corner of my eye I could see the flashing lights of police vehicles, which were blocking the entrance and exit lanes to the restaurant. Confusion surged through me. Had I overreacted? I assumed the men from yesterday were tracking me, but could the police also be here? Either way, I ran in the opposite direction, immediately realizing through the haze of my adrenaline a few things.

One, it had started to rain, and I slid slightly in mud as I hopped over the bushes on the perimeter of the parking lot. "Oh, fuck," I staggered back onto the sidewalk and turned back briefly to see Allison gaping at me as I fled the scene. The rain pelted my hair and my bare arms as I ran, my jacket lost in the stall, and my vest didn't offer any protection from the elements. Or, protection from recognition, as that point goes.

I breathed in panic as I sprinted down the sidewalk and rounded an alley, frantically looking around for an escape. The sounds of policemen yelling into their walky-talkies echoed in the alley behind me, spurring me on.

I flew down the street and it suddenly registered in my mind, as I ran from the police officer in pursuit on foot behind me, that I wasn't limping.

In fact, I had never run so fast in my life. I waited for the burning in my lungs that always accompanied running, or the sharp jolt of pain that would trickle up my knee and into my legs with every impact my foot made, but they never came.

I actually breathed out a giddy laugh and turned to see the officer, who was quickly losing ground behind me. I surged ahead and ran even faster, gingerly testing my speed.

The trail I led was twisted, and complicated to follow, but I knew these streets well—and I was trying to shake the officer behind me.

I heard the squeal of rubber tires against pavement and the wail of sirens as the police officers apparently decided I didn't deserve any breaks, and began to pursue me by car.

I knew I should be concerned about why the police were after me. But my combat boots thudded on the sidewalk, sending waves of rainwater splashing up my calves as I went, and I found that I could care less as I ran—painless, fast as the lightening above me, and free.

The farther I ran, the less buildings there were. At one point I could hear the sirens getting too close, so I cut into a new direction and took off for the woods.

It didn't take long for me to find them. The school blurred past, and the parking lot was full. As I ran, I saw Allison's car just pulling into the parking lot, and briefly wondered exactly how fast I was going as I blurred past and ducked into the woods.

The sirens faded in the distance as I fled, and the thicker the trees grew, the farther away they grew. I let out a giddy whoop and reached up to bat at a branch as I ran, practically skipping, when suddenly something blurred in front of me.

I collided roughly with it and hit the ground violently, the sky blurring above me and the rain on the ground soaking my back. I coughed and tried to regain the breath that was stolen from me as a face I didn't particularly want to see peered down at me overhead.

"Need a hand?" He simply asked.

"Ugh," I sputtered, turning on my side and blinking to try and clear my vision. "Damn it, Derek…"

"I'll give you this: you're quick." He held his hand out to me and I stared at it, huffing as I tried to catch my breath. The rain pelted my face relentlessly and he shook his hand impatiently, much as he had done just the day before. I angrily swiped at his hand and didn't even stumble as he aggressively tugged me to my feet. "And your balance has improved." He noted, looking me over. "But you can't be stupid like that anymore. If you get caught, it's all over."

"Shut up," I hissed, pointing a well-aimed finger at his chest and jabbing it in as hard as I could. It actually seemed to do some damage, and he covered the spot with his hand and scowled at me. "You—you bit me! Are you crazy?"

He shrugged at me, unimpressed and just as fed up as I was. "You asked me to!"

"I wasn't in my right mind!" I gestured wildly to my arm and back to him. "You took advantage of me!"

His green eyes rolled. "Please, I helped you. You should be thanking me."

"That's it." I put my hand out and shook my head. "I'm done. No more." I turned my back on him and started to leave, and his hand reached out to gently push me. I didn't even stumble as I rounded him. "Derek, I swear to God—"

"Notice how you didn't stumble." He pointed at me.

"W-What?" I staggered back and looked down at the ground for a moment, hesitating. He smugly crossed his arms. "That's because you push with the force of a toddler! Are your arms inflatable? Can I pop them like a balloon animal if I just—" I reached out and pinched his arm and he quickly clamped down, twisting my wrist back until the bone popped. "Ow, ow, ow, ow,"

He roughly pulled my back against his chest and kept pulling my hand back until the bone actually cracked.

I screeched in pain and let out a shrieking howl of agony, tears burning my eyes. "Jesus!" I exclaimed, and he roughly pushed me away. "Are you crazy—you just broke my hand!"

"And it'll heal." He said calmly, crossing his arms again. I cradled my hand gingerly and hissed at him.

"In a few months, sure," I snarled. "In the mean time, I can't afford to get it reset! You know that! Congratulations, as if I didn't have enough arthritis to look forward to, you managed to fuck me over a little more." My voice lowered as the anger bubbled in my chest.

"Good thing you have those pills to help with the pain," He tauntingly jeered. My fists tightened at my sides.

"Whatever respect, or acquaintanceship, or mutual understanding we had is long gone—"

"What are you gonna do, punch me?" He pointed to my fist, which previously had throbbed with a numb kind of stomach turning pain, but was now clenched into a tight fist. My mouth flopped open and I brought my hand up to my face, turning it this way and that.

Any trace of pain was gone. I gently flexed my hand, and met no resistance. It was fine. Totally, one hundred percent fine. I slowly looked back to him.

"Okay…" I managed. "W-What did you do to me?"

He slowly smiled. "I gave you your life back." He calmly stated, crossing his arms again. "How's the knee treating you?" I looked down and recalled how I could run with ease, no pain to circumvent, no limp to hinder me… "And your senses are heightened, aren't they? Hearing things you should have no humanly justifiable reason to hear. Smelling things you've never noticed before, even emotions."

Even as he said it, the hairs on the back of my neck bristled. I knew what he was talking about. I could smell the aftershave on his face from where I stood, the polish on his boot; hear the birds shift in their nests around us, and the rain patter against the windshields of the cars in the parking lot at school. The bell rang signaling the beginning of first period.

I panted and looked back up at him.

He knowingly nodded. "It's okay. You can say it." And then, as if to irritate me, he leaned in and lowered his voice. "Thank you." He leaned back and seemed smug. "Come on, just one time."

I blinked at him. The urge to tell him to fuck off just to spite him was nearly impossible to resist, but the truth is, I felt great. And for whatever reason, it's his fault. I blinked again. "Okay… Explain."