Hello to you all and i would like to formally apologize for the surprise hiatus i took. School started and i had to move and find a job and get settled in and all that fun adult stuff. But anyways, this chapter is more of a filler and Charlie is a firm believer of internalizing and compartmentalizing her emotions (sometimes without even realizing it) so she'll be grieving through out the rest of the story.

After getting over my initial shock, I had pretty much checked out for the last week. The alpha pack (already a distraction) and ritual sacrifices (an even bigger distraction) had been distracted by the untimely death of my father. There were obvious reasons as to why I didn't like funerals. The closer I was to the deceased, the less I wanted to attend. But the way there was hundreds of sympathetic eyes on me as I walked down the aisle, it definitely made me want to run from Beacon Hills. Far, far away.

"Didn't they just have a death in the family?"

"The son just died."

"It's just so tragic."

"They must be cursed."

A scoff and a not so hidden eye roll came from me as my mom and I finally made our way to our seats in the pews. She didn't bother to hide the slap that I "deserved."

Whatever. I don't even know who those people were, but they sure seemed to know me and my family enough to talk shit at my dad's funeral. I rolled my eyes again as a surge of anger rolled through me. I couldn't think of any other way to keep my shifting eyes hidden without wearing sunglasses. I cursed my superstitiousness and tried to focus on keeping a level head throughout the rest of the service. The funeral itself was a blur despite the sympathetic stares and whispers my mom and I were getting before, after, and during the service. Speaking of my mom, she put one of her cases on hold to come…home (though I wouldn't call it that permanently) to plan yet, another funeral. Since I had turned 17 over the summer, my mom decided to co-sign the lease and turn it over into my name so I wouldn't be, in a word: homeless.

The thought of living alone until graduation terrifies me to no end. But grocery shopping for myself terrifies me even more. Maybe I should ask Derek for tips on living alone. I already know what not to do just from watching him. Granted, it was going to take some time for me to get used to the eerie silence around the apartment, but it is what it is.

I didn't even realize the funeral ended until everyone began standing and the pews started emptying. Refusing to ride in the hearse, my mom and I rode silently in her black Mercedes. A pair of dark Ray Bans were completely covering her eyes. She took my silently and gave it a light squeeze. And strangely, that's all we needed.

Much to my demise, there was a small, private gathering after the burial service. I would have opted out of it, but I really wanted to be there for my mom. I hadn't touch my phone let alone charged it since the morning I found my dad. It didn't surprise me to see Derek lurking around town conveniently in the same places I was. Granted, it would have been weird if he didn't check on me in the creepiest way possible. I was just glad that he was giving me space. The best he could anyways. Either way I could still deal with this internally.

I was only so lucky that I wasn't going through the textbook stages of grief otherwise I would be in denial. I mean I found the body for Christ's sake; there's no room for me to be in denial. Now I guess the only thing left for me to do is be angry, try to bargain, and then accept my dad's death. Since I already bargained before I even knew he was dead, I can check that off the list. Now all there's left for me is to be angry and accept it. I frowned at my thoughts and figured forcing myself to grieve was a terrible idea and would definitely backfire.

Unfortunately, after the gathering at the apartment, my mom had a red-eye to go back to New York where her current case was. I was in the kitchen picking over the left over food in the fridge. I could hear the steady beat of my mom's heart as she packed.

I scarfed down the last bit deviled eggs and headed to my room where my mom was residing. She didn't want to stay in the other room for obvious reasons. I watched her silently as her back was turned to me. She jumped with a start when she finally turned around. "Jesus, Charlotte," she yelped, placing a hand over her now racing heart.

"Sorry," I mumbled sheepishly. "How ya feeling?"

She shrugged earnestly and looked away from me. I took the advantage and stared at her features. Her eyes were red-rimmed with dark circles and bags to match. "You?"

"Like…" I began, shutting my eyes. "When I wake up, I think we're all back in the big house—all of us. Together as a family. And then I reme—"

"You remember," she finished sadly.

"And it sucks," I sighed while walking over and sitting to her almost full suitcase. "Mom, I know we have this deal that I finish school or whatever, but promise me you'll be careful."

"Charlo—"

"Just…promise me," I interrupted with tears in my voice. She grabbed both my hands with hers and gave them a tight squeeze.

"As long as you promise me the same," she said with a sad smile. I nodded and stood to pull her into a hug. "And remember to stay off your phone when you're out in public. Look both ways before crossing the street. Stay out of the woods at night; you don't know what's in the dark. Don't take candy from strangers—actually don't take anything from strangers. Always, always, always use protection—"

"Mom!" I huffed, pulling away from her with a blushed face. "I'll be fine, okay?"

"I know," she agreed while pushing a few stray hairs from my face. "You're a strong girl, Charlotte."

Stiles kept a respective distance due to my own request. He put up a small fight but eventually caved when I started crying that night we found the body. Not gonna lie, I was tired of seeing the Sheriff's face because that usually meant he was around for some less than stellar news. I'm sure he feels the same way considering he wasn't in the know about all things supernatural. He probably thought I just had really bad luck. Well, he's not wrong.

A couple days after my mom left I kept myself busy by getting any missed work from school, cleaning around the apartment, and grocery shopping (which was a lot harder than it looks, okay?). Really I was just trying to keep my mind occupied while staying sane enough that wouldn't burst into tears anytime someone told me to have a nice day.

That poor kid was only doing his job.

With Paramore playing in the background quietly, I was catching up on some missed classwork. I was reading and rereading my assignment for English and so far only managed to get past the first paragraph. There was a weird scratching noise followed by cursing and more scratching until a familiar head of dark hair came into view through my window. "What the hell?" I asked incredulously. I wouldn't have been so thrown off that Stiles was still crawling through my now open window. But the thing was was that I lived on the fourth floor.

Fourth.

And Stiles Dumbass Stilinski managed to get to it. Granted I leave my window unlocked (and sometimes open) because I don't expect anyone or anything to come crawling through it in the early evening.

At least not anything I can't handle.

I watched as Stiles finally squirmed his way through my window and landed on my floor in a less than graceful manner. My eyes were wide as I remained idle in my desk chair and continued to watch the scene unfold. He straightened out his jacket while standing on his two feet. He finally looked at me as if he just noticed I was there and grinned cheekily. "I missed you," he shrugged as if that explained his almost suicidal mission of climbing forty feet to get to me. He walked over without and hesitation and kissed me deeply. His hands gently gripped both sides of my face and we soon had to pull away for air.

"I missed you too," I grinned, pulling him in for a short peck. "But if you ever climb four stories to get to me again, I'll kill you."

"Empty threats, Daehler. Empty threats." Stiles shut my books behind me and grabbed my hand to pull me out of my chair. "C'mon we're going to Scott's."

My face scrunched up into a frown as he pulled me behind while we navigated through the apartment. "Why?"

"Uh, because you haven't seen him in a week and he wants to play video games," Stiles said with a scoff.

"There's someone out sacrificing people and you wanna go play video games?"

"Yes," he sighed, pushing the down button on the elevator. "I thought you could use the distraction and some awesome bonding time with your amazing boyfriend."

We stepped inside the empty elevator and I pressed the appropriate button. "I could just spend some time with my amazing boyfriend right now," I winked, pulling out my phone. "Do you by any chance happen to have Nick Jonas' phone number?"

After I convinced Stiles that Nick Jonas was not my boyfriend, he caught me up from what I missed last week. Everything from finding another dead body to Isaac and Scott fighting the twins at school to even what he had eaten for dinner that week. It was nice to listen to his babbling. I didn't even realize how much I missed it until he actually shut up once we pulled up to Scott's. He flipped through his keys on his key chain and simply unlocked the door and walked through the McCall home. "Do you have any boundaries on privacy?" I asked, shutting the door behind me.

"Yes," he said with a spike in his heartbeat. "No—define boundaries."

"I shouldn't have to," I playfully scolded with an eye roll.

Whatever Stiles was about to say was cut off by Isaac rushing down the stairs. He immediately came and wrapped me in a tight hug. "What brings you here?"

"Oh—uh, I live here now."

"You live here? With Scott?" Isaac nodded, but didn't bother to say anything else. "What happened to you staying at Derek's?"

He shrugged sheepishly and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Kicked me out."

"Why?"

"Said it was too much with Cora and I both there."

"That's bullshit," I scoffed.

"Right? He grew up with like a million people in his house," Stiles added.

Isaac shrugged silently again and pointed upstairs. "Scott and I were just about to start the Call of Duty marathon if you guys wanna join us?"

With their mission planned in their mind they raced upstairs while I brought up the rear. The three had taken a residence in the front of Scott's bed. They lined up with Scott in the middle and their eyes were glued on the screen. I took residence on Scott's bed with my feet at the headboard. I watched as they effortlessly scrolled through the game to get to where they needed to be. They all put in headphones and I didn't bother to suppress the eye roll at the scene that was about to unfold.

I'm not against violent video games. I'm not. I mean hey, they're objectively more fun and help me deal with my feelings. But what I am against are two werewolves and a human who gets upset if someone is bleeding to death on his precious car seats. Needless to say I wasn't too excited to watch this Call of Duty marathon was about to go down with three temperamental teenagers.

Instead I grabbed the same book Scott and I had to read for English and decided to play catch up. Isaac coughed out 'nerd' which earned him a swift slap across the back of his head.

"You dick face butt muncher!"

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"It's—"

"No, Scott I know what dick face butt muncher is," I sighed, shutting his copy of Heart of Darkness shut. "I'm talking about this stupid book."

Stiles turned around from his position on the floor and faced me while he balanced himself on his knees. "I could help tutor you. What is it that you don't get?"

"No offense, Stiles but I don't think I'll learn much with you as my tutor."

His face fell slightly as Isaac and Scott took it upon themselves to continue playing without him. "Why not?"

"That's why," I stressed gesturing to his face. His bottom lip was poking out in confusion and his amber eyes matched as he searched my face for answers. "When you look at me like that it's really distracting."

"Like what?"

"Like that."

"But I'm not doing anything," he pouted, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Jesus, Stiles she's talking about sex."

"Isaac!" I scolded, giving him another slap across the back of his head. Isaac was just as unfazed from this slap as he from the first one. In fact, the fucker looked pretty pleased with himself as his eyes stayed glued on the screen.

"Uh, guys. You both have your own beds so please don't use mine," Scott butted in.

I'm 1000% sure that Stiles and I resembled tomatoes at this point. "I can't believe this is happening," I whispered low enough for Scott and Isaac to hear.

"Do you mean you won't learn much from me because I'm a...virgin?" Stiles asked quietly, only meeting my eyes for a second.

"What?"

"Please don't make me repeat that."

"Sorry, no. Sorry—I just—okay. Jesus, I meant we would be having sex and therefore I wouldn't learn anything, you know?"

Stiles mouthed a silent 'oh' and laughed awkwardly.

"So either one of you wanna play or you wanna keep talking about your sex life?" Isaac asked as he waved around the abandoned controller.

I'm genuinely surprised that my eyes didn't stick from how hard I rolled them. I even felt the familiar warm feeling behind my eyes that signaled the color changing. "Uh, I actually have to go make dinner for my dad. You know, gotta keep him healthy," he said, standing up and straightening out his clothes.

"I'll walk you out," I announced, practically jumping off the bed and leading Stiles out of the room.

Once we were outside and at Stiles' Jeep I had calmed down but there were still traces of the blush on my face. "I'd like to formally apologize for Isaac Lahey."

Stiles let out a short, loud laugh. "And I would like to formally apologize for Scott McCall."

"It's okay, they don't know any better," I shrugged.

"Eh, kids."

After seeing Stiles off with promises of charging my phone, I trekked back inside and headed straight upstairs where Isaac and Scott were simultaneously yelling into their headsets.

"You two are incorrigible," I scolded, pointing accusingly at the pair. I got no response as their attention was fully on the game in front of them. "I swear if Matt was alive, you two would give him a run for his money," I mumbled, moving to lie down where I was earlier. At that sentence, Isaac and Scott watched me carefully and quietly as I made myself comfortable again on Scott's bed.

"What do you mean by that?" Scott asked, pausing the game.

"I mean you two are embarrassing me like I'm you're little sister."

"Well..." Isaac began slowly. "Are we doing a good job?"

"You're doing a terrible job," I stressed, grabbing the extra remote off the ground.

"So we are doing a good job," Scott concluded, high fiving Isaac.

"Idiots," I growled without any real heat behind the words. After another hour of video games (and listening to curse words I didn't even know that were in Scott's vocabulary), Scott decided he was starving.

"Where ya headed?" I asked, getting up off his bed and stretching.

"Yeah, I'm in the mood for Mexican," Isaac added, standing up and towering over me.

Scott took a moment to look in between Isaac and me as if he just noticed we were there. "Uh, I was gonna go alone."

"Dude, you don't have to go eat alone," Isaac said with a frown. Scott shifted his weight from foot to foot while avoiding any eye contact from Isaac and me. His heart began hammering in his chest as he struggled to stand still.

"You're not going to get food, are you?" I asked.

"No," he admitted guilty. Isaac and I stood quietly for some sort of explanation. "Derek and I are supposed to go confront Deucalion."

Even though Stiles gave me a crash course on what I missed this week, he failed to mention anything about Scott or Derek confronting someone who calls themselves a demon wolf.

"Like I said, you're not going alone," Isaac finally said to break the silence.

I crossed my arms and stood by Isaac to show Scott I was in agreement and that there was no room for any argument. "There's no way you're confronting someone who calls himself the demon wolf."

Scott rolled his eyes shortly and sighed. "Fine, but I was serious about the food."

"Sweet," Isaac grinned.

"Wait," I interrupted. "Can you drop me off at Derek's first? Stiles was my ride and I need to go yell at Derek."

"Can I ask why?" Scott asked.

"Sure," I shrugged.

"But you're not gonna tell me," he concluded. I winked and led the way out of his room and downstairs.

I swung the loft door open with brute force and sauntered inside without skipping a beat. I spotted Derek and Cora who both seemed unimpressed by my barging into the loft. Another person standing in the corner caught me off guard. I blinked slowly as I did a triple take to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. "Jackson?"

"No Marley, you're not dreaming; it's really me, and I know you can't believe it," he drawled with an eye roll. I eyed him slowly up and down. He was clad in winter clothes, including a ridiculous scarf, and was much paler than he was before he left. I kept my eyes fixated on him until Derek cleared his throat.

Right, I could grill Jackson later.

"What the hell?" I asked Derek while crossing my arms. He merely continued to look at me in the same unimpressed manner. I growled lowly and glared. "What? The hell?" Cora moved to take a seat at the table behind Derek while he mirrored my stance.

"Nice to see you too," he finally said.

Ignoring his comment, I continued without a hitch. "Why'd you kick him out?"

"Isaac?"

"Yes, Isaac."

"None of your business," he stated.

"What is she talking about?" Jackson asked.

"I'm in this pack, right?" Derek nodded silently while ignoring Jackson. "Then it's my business."

"What did he tell you?"

"Bullshit," I deadpanned which earned a glare from Derek. "Scott also told me what you plan on doing tonight—I want in."

"Your father just died, you're not ready to fight," he huffed.

"I wouldn't bother," Jackson sighed from his corner of the loft. "He won't even let me fight."

"You don't know how to fight," Derek argued.

"I'm a freaking werewolf; I know how to fight!"

"You've got claws and fangs; that doesn't make you a fighter."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Seriously, Derek, c'mon," I whined, letting my arms fall to their sides.

"Charlie, this is a pack of alphas."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"Cora, Jackson, can we have a minute alone?" Jackson sighed loudly but moved to leave anyways. "Please?" He added as Cora made no attempt to get up. Without breaking her glare on me, she eventually got off the barstool stiffly and followed Jackson out of hearing range.

I nodded with pursed lips and gave Derek a long once over. "She's definitely your sister."

"Are you sure you've had enough time?"

"Enough time for what?"

"To grieve. I know when your brother died you didn't have much time. I wanna make sure you're ready before I push you into something else."

"Right," I nodded, eyeing the tops of my Converse. "I am, I guess. I just can't stay in that place right now. It's too quiet."

"I understand," he shrugged.

I blinked slowly and looked up at Derek before choosing my next words very carefully. "I mean do you? You lived in your burnt down house for…never mind," I cut myself off to save face from the glare I was getting from Derek.

"Come one, you and Cora can spar a little before we go."

"Aw, but she hates me."

Ah, yes I know I'm terrible with endings, but it's super late and I really really wanted to post this so here ya go. Also I really wanted Jackson back because he's fun to write and I think it'll be interesting to see him with the Hale/McCall pack. But he will definitely make an appearance in the next chapter~

Also it may come off that Stiles and Charlie are proceeding their relationship with caution and that's because they are considering the insane circumstances.

Review, please?