Stiles, Scott and I searched around the woods for anything that had to do with Malia.
"Look! There!" Scott pointed to a small den on the forest floor.
"It's a coyote den." Stiles acknowledged.
"Werecoyote." Scott corrected. A jacket was crumpled in the leaves inside the den. I crouched down to inspect the den. A small jacket sat crumpled in the den.
"This is Malia's." Stiles reminded us, picking up the jacket. "She was wearing it in one of the photos."
"We shouldn't be in here." Scott announced suddenly.
"What do you mean?" Stiles asked.
"He means we need to get our asses out before we get eaten." I rephrased Scott's words. I stood up, brushing myself off.
"I mean she's not going to come back now. We invaded her home. Our scent will be everywhere." Scott explained.
"If she's not coming back, where is she going to go?" Stiles asked.
"I don't know." Scott sighed.
"Scott, is there room in your backyard?" I asked. He ignored my comment as did Stiles.
"We need some help here." Scott decided. "I haven't been able to reach Derek in a while and I think this is a bit out of Deaton's league."
"And more in my dad's." Stiles finished.
"Well, let's call up Papa Stilinski." I suggested. Stiles picked up his phone and dialed the number of his father.
"Yo, Dad. We found something you're gonna want to see." Stiles spoke then proceeded to tell the Sheriff our location.
The police arrived and we filled the Sheriff in on what we had witnessed this evening.
"You're sure it was her?" Stilinski asked, referring to the werecoyote.
"I looked her right in the eyes. They glowed like mine." Scott confirmed.
"It makes sense." Stiles added.
"But it was a four-legged coyote, not a girl, right?" Sheriff Stilinski clarified, clearly skeptical.
"Yeah but we haven't exactly figured that out yet." Stiles shrugged.
"If it was a full moon, anything could've happened." Scott reminded us.
"Think about it, Dad. They're driving, Malia starts to change, she gets out of control, the mom crashes and everybody dies." Stiles tried to convince him.
"Except for Malia." Scott adds.
"She blames herself, runs off feeling guilty then gets trapped in a coyote's body." Stiles continued.
"That makes sense." The Sheriff nodded as Stiles sighed with relief. "In a Chinese folktale!"
"I wasn't aware you read Chinese stories, Sheriff." I commented. He narrowed his eyes at me before turning back to Stiles.
"This is insane! I need this kept quiet. You three better not say a word about this. Especially !" Sheriff hissed.
" as in that guy right there or some other ?" I pointed to the black vehicle that had just pulled up, revealing Agent Asshole and Malia's father. Eyes wide, the Sheriff whipped his head around to see the two I was speaking about.
"Oh, hell." Stilinski sighed, irritation radiating off of him.
"It's hers!" gasped, running towards Stiles.
"Actually, it's mine." I corrected him, looking at Stiles. "Oh, you meant the jacket." I had completely forgotten about Malia's coat. Stiles stared at me, a wild expression on his face.
"It?" He raised his eyebrows. I shrugged, turning my attention back to Tate.
"Dad." Scott called out, trying to get the attention of Beacon Hills' Father of the Year.
"I'll talk to you in a minute." The Agent replied. "Also, I wouldn't mind hearing how your mom's okay with you running around the woods this late." This enraged me. This was the first time I had ever seen Scott's father, meaning that he clearly wasn't around. Therefore, he wasn't exactly playing a father role. What right did he have to parent Scott now?
"Hey! Special Agent Hotchner!" I growled, staring directly at him.
"Oh, god." Stiles sighed, knowing I was about to sass him all the way back to his childhood.
"I really don't get that reference." Agent McCall sighed, a bored expression staring back at me.
"Criminal Fucking Minds." I told him.
"I suggest you don't swear around me." He warned.
"Telling me not to swear is like telling you not to be a father. It's who I am. Oh, wait. You're not Scott's father. You're just a man who fucked his mom so she could have the brilliant son that is Scott McCall. You can't tell Scott what to do and you sure as hell can't judge Melissa on her parenting. Good day, Donatello." I saluted him.
"Watch yourself." He growled, narrowing his eyes to raged slits.
"I do that every morning when I get ready. You know, mirrors." I gave him a thumbs up. Sheriff Stilinski gave me a warning look before beckoning Agent Douchebag over to discuss the case.
"Oh my god." Stiles gasped as if he had been holding his breath. I turned to face them, finding faces that looked as I'd just murdered Scott's dad rather than sassed him.
"You are going to end up in prison." Stiles warned me.
"That's okay. Piper Chapman will be my bitch." I joked.
"What?"
"Orange is the New Black." I explained my reference.
"Oh. You know, that was very disturbing when you talked about Melissa and...Scott's, uh, dad." Stiles cringed.
"That is how babies are made, Stiles." I reminded him.
"I know, but-"
"Just let it go. It's okay." I pat his head twice before approaching Scott. "I hate your father." I told him.
"Me too." Scott sighed. "Thanks for sticking up for me."
"What are bros for?" I laughed.
"I'm not quite sure you're a bro, being a girl and all." Stiles commented.
"Fine. Girl-Bro." I rolled my eyes. "Well, let's get out of here. It smells like ass." I covered my nose, walking away from the den, Scott and Stiles following with the same shocked expressions on their faces.
I sat in History class before the bell was due to ring. Only Scott, Kira and a few others were in here. I looked over to see Kira handing Scott a giant stack of papers.
"Didn't think you were the kind of person to make nerds do your homework, Scotty." I commented, knowing he could hear but she couldn't. He scowled at me before returning his attention to Kira. -don't-remember was returning to his desk after handing Kira the papers which she was giving Scott. Both Kira and Scott's cheeks were reddening while I sat and laughed. I was glad Scott was moving on but at the same time, I didn't want someone new to join our group. Allison and Scott were the kind of couple you see on justgirlythings with the words 'goals' written on it. I didn't envy their relationship, but they clearly loved each other very much. Their relationship was the definition of perfect until one Chris Argent screwed it all up.
-more-ah cleared his throat after everyone had taken their seats. I was watching his lips move as he started the class, but I wasn't listening to the words those lips were forming. Suddenly, Stiles stood up. My heart began to pound and I could feel my stomach tighten. Why was I suddenly so anxious? Just a few seconds ago, I was bored and didn't want to be here. Now, I felt as if someone had just read all my secrets aloud.
A sigh escaped my lips once I realized the source of my anxiety. Stiles. His hands trembled as he stood by the large textbook at the front of the room. Kira's father, the teacher, had asked Stiles to read. Stiles begged Mr.I-Love-To-Humiliate-My-Socially-Awkward-Daughter to have someone else read but the teacher just encouraged Stiles further. Knuckles white as snow, Stiles clutched the podium for support. He looked at the textbook as if it were that scary bitch from The Grudge.
I can't read a thing, Stiles' words bit into my mind. I looked at Scott who's face mirrored my feelings. As Stiles' breathing increased, Scott and I jumped out of our seats and raced over to Stiles.
"Maybe we should take him to the Nurse's office." Scott suggested. Man was too stunned to speak for a moment before he found his words.
"One of you-" He started.
"No. We're both going. See you later, Yuki-something." I argued, nodding at Scott. We took Stiles to the boys' locker room a.k.a Scott's favourite hangout.
"Stiles, look at me. Is this a panic attack?" Scott stared at his best friend.
"It's a dream, it's a dream. This is just a dream." Stiles repeated.
"No, it isn't. This is real life, Stiles. Do you know how I know?" I took his hands. Scott looked at me with a small smile, seeming touched by my concern for my boyfriend.
"How?" Stiles whispered.
"Because Scott is here." I answered. "I know you two are like brothers...strangely close and borderline Cersei and Jaime Lannister brothers, but I doubt you'd be dreaming about him. Especially in the boys' locker room." Scott narrowed his eyes.
"Well, sorry. I'm not exactly good at caring." I frowned. "But seriously, you're not dreaming."
"Stiles, how can you tell if you're dreaming or not?" Scott asked.
"Your fingers. C-Count your fingers. You have extra fingers in dreams." Stiles replied, his hands shaking like his voice.
"Then, let's count your fingers." I took his hands in mine and held his right hand up.
"Count with us." Scott instructed.
"One...Two…" He sighed, studying his shaking fingers.
"Keep going." Scott encouraged. I folded Stiles' fingers down as he counted them, but that's all I did. I wasn't good at this whole comforting thing. In fact, all I would do is make it worse.
"Three...Four...Five..." He counted as I slid his fingers down.
"Next hand." Scott nodded.
"Six...Seven...Eight…" Stiles let out a shaky breath.
"Eight? Then?" Scott urged him on.
"Nine." Stiles stared at his hand as I put his ninth finger down. "T-Ten. Ten. Ten fingers." As I closed his hands into fists, his shoulders relaxed and so did ours.
"You're awake." Scott told him, putting his hands on Stiles' shoulders.
"What the hell is happening to me?" Stiles' voice came out as a whisper. And me? I thought, though I said nothing. His emotions flowed through me as if I was him.
"We'll figure it out." Scott promised. "You're going to be okay." We all stood up and returned to class, though it was useless as the bell rang minutes after we returned. Stiles went to speak to Allison while Scott and I headed to his locker.
"Are you okay?" Scott asked, watching me. "Every time something weird goes on with Stiles, your emotions go out of control. More than they do with Allison and I."
"I don't know. It's like I become Stiles when something goes wrong with him. Not only do I feel his emotions, but I feel...angry too. There's always some anger." I admitted, inspecting my leather jacket.
"We need to help Stiles. The key to fixing you is fixing Stiles if what Deaton said is correct." Scott ran his hands through his hair.
Scott's head suddenly shot up, as if he was listening to something.
"Stay here." He told me, holding his palm out.
"Fuck no." I shook my head, slapping his hand away as I followed him down the hall. He rolled his eyes and entered the boys' locker room.
"Did you forget your masculinity in here or something? Why are we here?" I raised a single brow. A snarl rippled through the locker room, answering for Scott.
"Kira's in here. I'm going to go get her." Scott whispered, panic-stricken.
"Shit!" I cursed. The werecoyote spun on its paws and stared at me. She bared her teeth before charging towards me. Scott stared wide-eyed, stopping his journey to Kira.
"Get Kira!" I hissed. "Don't worry about me." I raised my foot and drove it across Malia's face as she leapt forth. She yelped and skidded across the ground. After studying me, she ran to where Scott had gone.
"Incoming." I alerted him, low enough that Kira wouldn't hear. I ran after the werecoyote, who lead me to Kira and Scott. Malia's paws moved softly on the ground. Had I not been watching her, I never would have known she was moving. Making eye contact with Scott, I shooed Malia away. She ran towards an object in the corner of my eye. She was quick, but so was I. I somersaulted towards her, tackling her. While she growled, the backpack she went after dropped from her jaws. I glared down at the coyote who gave up. Her tiny jaws clamped onto my hand, resulting in her nose being smashed in by my fist. I cursed at the bite as she released a loud yelp.
"Ow! Bitch!" I growled. Her sandy ears pinned against her head and she retreated, leaving the torn backpack of Stiles Stilinski on the floor. What was more surprising than her attack, was the wound she left. Black smoke erupted from the bite and when it cleared, there was no longer a wound. Not a single mark. A gasp escaped my lips as I stared at my hand, wondering if I was hallucinating.
"A few students reported seeing it running across the field to the woods. Thankfully, nobody got hurt." Sheriff Stilinski told Scott, Stiles and I once the police arrived on the scene. Stiles had raced over once he heard the news.
"What if she does hurt someone?" Stiles asked his father and to my surprise, I rolled my eyes at his question. Irritation bit at me, Stiles' presence the cause.
"Most likely, someone will have to put it down." Sheriff Stilinski responded.
"It?" I asked incredulously.
"Her." Stiles corrected. "Don't forget there's a girl in there. A girl that you'll be killing."
"Don't be a murderer. That's not a life you want, buddy." I told him.
"You're not back to not-believing, are you?" Stiles frowned.
"I believe that there are a lot of things I don't understand yet but that doesn't mean that everything is possible." Stilinski sighed. "Now. Are you one hundred percent sure that there's a girl in there?"
"Yep." I confirmed.
"Yes because Scott's sure." Stiles nodded. I narrowed my eyes at him before speaking.
"I don't even think we should bring her back. She's one hundred percent a confirmed bitch and it'll be worse when she can speak." I thought about my wound which had disappeared completely.
"What?" Stiles stared at me, clearly unimpressed that I wasn't on board with 'Team Save Malia'.
"She bit me!" I hissed.
"I don't see a bite." Sheriff Stilinski commented, examining my hand.
"It disappeared." I admitted, remembering what had happened.
"You mean it healed?" Scott, who had been staring at Kira this whole time, finally turned to us.
"No! I mean, I don't know." I confessed. "It was like smoke came out of the bite and suddenly it was gone."
"We need to tell Deaton." Scott decided. I nodded, not saying anything else. Stiles spoke instead, approaching his torn backpack.
"I think I know what she was after." He opened the backpack and his hand disappeared into the bag. When his hand returned from the backpack, it was accompanied by a child's doll.
"You took it from the car?" Scott asked, staring at the doll.
"Idiot." I sighed, rubbing my temples with annoyance. He just couldn't do anything right, could he?
Scott watched me, concern written on his face.
"You okay?" He asked.
"Just a bit irritated." I responded, hoping he understood what I meant. I didn't understand why Stiles was annoying me more often, but I hoped it would stop.
"Anyways, I thought you could use it for a scent or something." Stiles muttered, his eyes watching me with what I thought looked like pain. Great. Now I hurt his feelings because I don't have control of my emotions.
"Where did you get that?" A frantic voice asked, coming closer to us. I looked up to see Malia's father as he grabbed the doll from Stiles' hand.
"EBay." I replied.
"It was my daughters." Tate frowned, staring at the doll.
" . I'm sorry, but you're not supposed to be here. I don't know how you heard about this. If you have your own police scanner or what, but you can't be here." Sheriff Stilinski intervened. He placed his hands on Tate to gently remove him from the locker room. The Sheriff stiffened as his hands came into contact with a hidden shape under 's clothes.
"I have a permit." Malia's father defended himself. He has a gun, I realized. I pushed Stiles behind me to protect him, glaring at Tate.
"California schools are gun-free zones, permit or not. You need to leave now, ." Stilinski warned him. Tate looked like he was about to protest, but caught himself.
"Why is he still here?" I asked Scott, staring at the gun shape in Tate's clothes.
"You find that animal. You find t-that thing!" Malia's dad ordered.
"Will do." I nodded.
"Kayla-" Scott protested.
"Hey! He said find not kill. I promise I won't kill her...unless she deserves it." I held my hands up. I would never kill anybody, good or evil, but I liked to keep my friends on their feet.