A/N: Thank you so much for all of the wonderful comments, guys! It's so great to wake up to so many new comments.

One big thing today: If you know anything about girls' lacrosse or just lacrosse in general, I would love you forever if you sent me a message here or an ask on tumblr because I have never played lacrosse before. All I know about lacrosse I know because of Teen Wolf. I live in the smallest of small towns in California and we barely have a basketball team, much less a lacrosse team. I've been doing some research and I also happened to work with a lacrosse camp earlier this summer, but I still don't know a lot about the sport. For accuracy's sake, I would love to know more if any of you are willing to help me out. I can always stick to research, but it's always better to hear first hand accounts. Thanks so much!

Enjoy today's chapter!

"You're joking, right, Lane?" Coach Finstock said after Clare had said her spiel. "You can't be serious!" He stared at her as if she was asking him to expel his top player. Clare had figured this would be a hard sell, but she wouldn't give up. "You can't just sit here and ask me to put a—a midget on me team. If you get hurt I'll get sued!" Clare huffed in frustration.

"I'm not a midget!" she protested. "And I can handle myself fine out there! I was the 3rd best player on my team! And a captain! As a sophomore!" The Coach let out a 'hmm' as he dipped his head to the side in thought. He sighed. That was pretty impressive.

"You can't join the team this season," Clare's face fell. He rolled his eyes and put a hand up to her. "—BUT," he paused and sighed. "I can't stop you from trying out next season," he answered reluctantly. Clare smiled at him. She felt the sudden urge to hug him. "I can't make you any promises," he warned "but if you think you can play on the team without getting yourself killed, I guess that's your decision," he looked at her with wide eyes like she was the craziest person he had ever seen. She was bouncing slightly now. She hadn't really heard much after he had told her she could tryout. "You're really weird. You know that?" He asked her as he crossed his arms. He looked at her as if she were the strangest human being he had ever met.

Clare smiled wide and started to back away to go change. "I won't let you down, Coach!" He gave her pained smile and an ironic thumbs up.

"I won't be getting my hopes up!" He said as she ran off to go change. He shook his head as he watched her leave. "The kids at this school..." he trailed off as he turned to go to the locker room, "they're all a bunch of weirdos."

Clare hadn't heard him. She was too excited. She was so excited that things were finally looking up. She really wanted to play lacrosse. Lacrosse was pretty much the only thing she was good at. It was the one thing that she was really good at. She could do other things like play piano and draw cartoon characters, but not like she could play lacrosse. Lacrosse was her thing. And she wouldn't let anyone take it away from her. She hadn't spent a good portion of her life playing just so she could stop before she was even seventeen. She would make that team in the spring or she would give up on life and become a hobo. She honestly hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Clare was in the girls' locker room peeling off her leggings when the bell rang. She cursed the timing as she continued to rip off her clothes. She left her sports bra on and threw on her jeans, mint green converse, and a navy button-up blouse before rushing out of the girls locker room. Her next and final class of the day was home ec.

Clare skidded into the classroom just in time. Her teacher, Mrs. Stone, shot her a warning look, but Clare didn't care. She knew she had made it on time. She took a seat at an empty table and sat herself down. She looked around at the pairs of girls before her and couldn't help but sigh to herself. She found it depressing how little friends she had left in this town. It wasn't like she was friends with many others besides Scott, Stiles, and Isaac, but small towns were different when it came to friendships. When you grow up in a town as small as Beacon Hills, you and your classmates form your own makeshift family. Many grow up together and most get to know each other better than they would like. It's usually a good thing. It means you'll always have a place to sit at lunch, even if it's with your best friend from freshman year that you haven't spoken to in a year. It means that you have inside jokes with people you hardly talk to. But it also means that the bond between classmates that have grown up together is nearly impenetrable. Clare had been gone for too long. She had missed too many important moments. Her classmates had moved on without her. It appeared that she had been kicked out of the family. She didn't really blame them. She hadn't exactly been the best family member to begin with.

Between Clare's musings and the muffins her class was making, the period flew by rather quickly. The muffins she made were rather tasty. She was so glad she missed the sewing section in the second quarter. Baking was much better suited to her needs. When the bell rang, Clare exited the home ec classroom with her bag and a ziplock full of her tasty blueberry muffins. She walked down the crowded hallway until she got to her locker. Pulling out the books she needed, she slammed her locker shut and headed to her car.

She was starting to get nervous about her talk with Isaac. She wasn't looking forward to explaining the last five years to him, especially because she was still unclear about some of the details herself. It was still so fresh on her mind. She had done a pretty good job hiding it, but Clare was hurting over her Dad. She could have even said it was killing her. She tried to push back the memories and the grief, but he seemed to pop into her head at any given moment. That morning when she had her mom's chocolate chips pancakes, all she could think about was how much he loved them. When she stepped outside and saw the dew collecting on the individual blades of grass it only reminded her of how much he loved to take morning walks through the misty woods. Her heart hurt thinking about it. She couldn't even bear to think about that night when she had found him and saw–

"Clare!" Her heart stopped and she jumped out of her thoughts. She blinked and realized that she was standing at the trunk of her car. She turned her head and saw the tall, lanky boy coming towards her. She smiled lightly at him and sighed. She was glad he drew her out of her thoughts. It was a place she hadn't gone very often in the past two weeks, but when she got sucked in, it usually drained her of all happiness and drive. It usually led to a lot of tears, but seeing Isaac coming at her, with that small, familiar smile on his face, made her nearly forget how much pain she had felt only a few moments before.

He stopped about a foot in front of her. He smiled lightly, his hands lingering casually in his pockets. "So, where are we headed?" he asked suddenly. Clare smiled. She didn't have to think about it for a second. He seemed to think the same thing as she watched his eyes light up.

"The park?" she asked. He nodded with his crooked smile. Clare needed to get her keys but being that she was still holding her books in her hands, she couldn't really grab them. She looked up at him. "Can you hold these for a second?" Isaac's hands flew immediately out of his pockets as he nodded. He grasped her books and she smiled gratefully at him. She pulled out her keys and popped the trunk with a click of a button. Isaac placed her books in the back and Clare shut it. A few awkward moments later and Clare and Isaac were sitting in her car. She hoped it wouldn't be like this the entire time.

Clare started the car as Isaac backed up the passenger seat to accommodate his criminally long legs. A few moments later and they were off. The drive to the park was only about ten minutes long, but the minutes were passing by slowly as they sat in silence. Clare suddenly had a thought. "Isn't there lacrosse practice after school?" she asked him. She didn't want to take him away from practice. She was a little put-off that he didn't mention it before.

Isaac shrugged. "Yeah, but i've missed like seven practices already. I doubt it would matter much if I missed one more," he answered as he played with his hands as they rested between his legs. Clare nodded slowly.

After a moment Clare asked Isaac, "Do you have a phone? I should call my mom so she doesn't freak out when I'm not home immediately." Isaac nodded and reached into his pocket. He dialed her home number. Clare smiled at him as he handed her the phone. She was slightly dumbfounded that he still remembered her number. Bryn picked up after two rings. Clare quickly explained to him her plans with Isaac and told him that she would be home by 5 at the latest. She wasn't exactly sure how long this conversation would take, but there was no need to rush things. They said their goodbyes and Clare hung up, handing the phone back to Isaac with a small smile.

The rest of the car ride was quiet and consisted of Isaac playing with his fingers and Clare licking her lips. The radio played softly in the background. Clare pulled up to the park within minutes. She and Isaac stepped out as she flung her bag over her shoulders. He lingered by the passenger side door as Clare went to grab the muffins from the trunk. She grasped the ziplock bag and shut the trunk before her and Isaac wandered into the grassy area together.

There were a few children running about on the playground as their parents stood by and watched over them. Their delighted screams and cries of laughter reminded the pair of their own adventures they had had at this park. It wasn't the most exciting park in town. It was lacking in bright colors and aesthetic appeal, but it had always been the perfect meeting place for them. It was nestled nearly in the exact midpoint between his and her house and often had been the location of their childhood shenanigans. Clare fondly remembered playing tag through the structure, jumping off the swings, rolling down the grassy hills, and watching the clouds. She wished she could be a kid again. She looked towards the occupied swings and felt a ping of nostalgia for the childhood wonder that shown on the children's faces. She felt like she had been thrust into this world of death and decay and had forgotten how to be a kid before she had the chance to finish being one.

As the two of them walked towards an empty park bench she stole a glance at the vastly taller human and was vaguely awestruck. She had missed the slow transition from little boy to near-man and it came as quite a shock to her to see him now. The lanky, skinny, awkward kid had grown into someone she nearly didn't recognize. She wanted to see him grow up. She wanted to see them all grow up. Stiles, Scott, hell—even Lydia. She wondered if any of them felt the same way.

Isaac and Clare seated themselves on a park bench facing away from the playground and towards the grassy hills. Clare, who felt subconsciously uncomfortable talking without facing him, turned her body towards his and slipped her right leg comfortably under her left thigh. She sighed and licked her top lip. "So," she trailed off, looking at him expectantly.

Isaac looked up at her. "You used to be better at asking questions," he commented with a toothless grin his eyes shining mischievously. She rolled her eyes lightly, but chuckled in spite of herself.

"Fine," She said defiantly with a crease in her brows. "Whatever you want to know," she paused and crossed her arms, "I'll tell you after you tell me what happened to you," she finished with a lift of her eyebrow.

There was a long pause. Clare shifted her body to face forward. She could see that Isaac's expression had quickly turned from playful to aggravated. His fingers tensed and his jaw locked rigidly. He ran a stiff hand through his curls. It had been such a quick transition, she didn't expect what happened next. He glared at her, his posture suddenly turning defensive. He looked down and smiled spitefully. "We're not going to play this fucking game," he asserted, surprising her. She was taken aback by his tone, but she was quick to turn defensive in response.

"I'm not playing a game, Isaac," she replied, her voice dangerously cross.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Right. Well, I'm really tired of waiting around for you to trust me," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking away.

"Waiting around? Are you fucking kidding me?" She asked in a tone of disbelief as her eyes narrowed at him. She gripped the bottom of the bench tightly with her fingers. "I've been back for what–three days?" She said in disgusted incredulity. "Where do you think I went first? I went to your house," she told him, her anger slowly picking up with every word. "But guess what, you weren't there. You were too busy pretending to be a big bad werewolf with the guy who was the reason I left in the first place!" she bellowed at him. She had said more than she had wanted to. Perhaps her combined hatred for Derek and frustration with Isaac had caused her to blurt it out. It had been more than she had intended to say, but she tried not to let it show on her face.

Isaac shot a glance at her. "What?" he asked in confusion. How did she know Derek? How was he the reason she left? Clare looked away and glared at the ground. He scoffed, "unbelievable." He looked away from her and shook his head. "Well, if you're not willing to trust me enough to tell me what I deserve to know, then I'm not going to waste my time anymore," he spat as he stood and started to walk away.

"Why do I have any reason to trust you? It's like I don't even know you," She called as she scowled at him from where she still sat on the bench.

Isaac turned back around and looked at her in utter disbelief. "I wasn't the one who left without saying goodbye, much less an explanation!" he yelled at her, pointing an accusing finger. She stood mid sentence and stalked up to him, her fists balled at her sides. She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her. "I used to look up to you," he went on, his words dripping with disappointment and bitterness. Her scowl softened and her mouth closed. She knew that he had. She liked that he had. She felt had like no matter how bad she fucked up or how much she embarrassed herself, she would always have Isaac. But she had lost him too.

"I used to think you were brave. But I've realized that you're just as scared as the rest of us," he said in a tone of such disenchantment that her heart seemed to physically erode. "All you do is run and there is nothing admirable about that," He continued. She felt like she was getting beaten; every word was like a slap. But she took it because he was right. He was so right. "Derek doesn't run, Clare. He fights. I used to think you were a fighter too. But I guess you were always a runner underneath it all," Isaac finished. He had just vomited up every feeling of anger and disappointment he had ever felt. It wasn't right to load it on her and he could see that she was hurt, but he didn't care. Isaac just wanted to care about himself in that moment. He needed to get that out. He was so tired of everything in his life falling apart. For a long time she had been that constancy, that one thing that kept him from going absolutely insane. And then she had left him and he slowly but surely lost everything he had ever loved. Now she was back and he still felt alone. He still felt like he had nothing. He had his pack and he had Derek, but deep inside he would always feel like he was fighting the battle solo. He could lie to himself and say that he was apart of something and that he had a home, but Derek would never feel like home to him. Clare wasn't home to him anymore. He was homeless and he was alone.

Clare had grown dejected since he had first spoken. He was right. He was right about everything. She had run away from her problems and now she was left without her father and her best friend. She didn't know her mother anymore. It seemed like Bryn was the only thing she still had, the only thing that would love her no matter what. She wrapped her arms around herself. "If you don't think there's a runner inside every fighter you're lying to yourself," she managed to mutter out, her voice shaking with anger or sadness. She couldn't say. She refused to look up at him. "You think choosing this was the brave thing to do? You think selling your soul to this curse was what a fighter would have done?" She asked. She stared at the button on his jacket to avoid his gaze. Her face was as expressionless and desolate as she felt.

"That's what you don't understand. I didn't have a choice," Isaac responded as he ran a hand through his hair once more.

"There's always a choice," she whispered as if she didn't completely want him to hear her.

Isaac averted his gaze to the ground and shook his head. "No. You wouldn't say that if you knew," he muttered, picking the dirt from underneath his fingernails.

Her features became hard again. Her grip around herself tightened. She bit the inside of her cheek and scowled. "Yeah, but I don't know," she seethed. She turned away from him, grabbed her muffins and stalked to her car. He let her go and she left him much like she had the last time—without saying goodbye.

Ten minutes later she was slamming the front door of her home. She was still upset over what had happened and it showed clearly. Her footsteps were heavy; her breaths were short. So, when Clare entered, Bryn, who had been lounging on the couch watching TV, quickly noticed his sister's mood. "You're home early," he observed tentatively, looking her up and down in suspicion. It was barely 4 o'clock. Clare ignored him. She threw her keys and her purse on the ground by the door and flew up the stairs.

Rushing into her room Clare slammed the door. She tore the clothing from her body and ripped her closet apart looking for a t-shirt. She threw on a sports bra, the t-shirt, and some leggings and grabbed her lacrosse stick from the corner before running down the stairs once more. She walked through the kitchen to the sliding glass door and ran down the porch steps. The soles of her sneakers slammed against the wooden steps in rage. She stepped onto the crunchy, brown grass and walked under the steps. There she found an old, tattered lacrosse net and a collection of lacrosse balls in similar condition. In moments the goal was set up and Clare was shooting the small balls into the goal with terrifying force. She heard the satisfying thump against the brown, wooden fence behind the goal and felt better with every shot. She shoot balls repeatedly into the net until she was out and then went to collect all of them. She shot every ball with a grunt and a scowl and the was anger sweating off of her.

Soon her muscles tensed and she felt tiny beads of sweat forming under the bangs on her forehead. She hadn't realized before, but hot, angry tears were falling onto her red cheeks. She had paused in her shooting and took a moment to just breathe. She let her arm fall limp and the lacrosse stick hit the ground. Hands on her hips she let out a few deep breaths. She bent her head back and closed her eyes. She blinked them open and her heartbeat slowed. She collapsed onto the lawn and sat cross-legged on the coarse grass. She didn't even feel the sharp, dead grass on her legs as she buried her face in her hands. She was done. That was the only word to explain how she felt. She was done. She was done with Isaac; she was done with werewolves; she was done with her family. She was so unbelievably done. She had reached her breaking point. She was on the verge of going completely insane.

"Hey." Clare's head shoot up at the sound of her brother's voice. He was bent against the side rail of the porch looking down at her with a concerned smile. Clare swiftly wiped the tears from her face with the end of her palm. She swallowed the bulge in her throat and smiled weakly at her older brother.

"I'm okay," she croaked.

Bryn shook his head. "No, you're not," he told her. She let out a laugh and looked down. She sniffed and gave her own head a shake.

"I'm not," she agreed as she ran a hand through her bangs.

Bryn half-smiled. "Get up," he commanded as he simultaneously lifted himself off the banister. Clare shoot him a look, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Get up!" he said again, this time with a wide smile on his face. He walked through the door and gestured with his hand that she should follow. She stood, lacrosse stick in hand and followed him up the stairs and through the door.

When she walked through the door Bryn was putting his shoes on. Clare lifted an eyebrow. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked, her voice still a little hoarse. He smiled up at her.

"We're going somewhere," he said as he grabbed his keys. Clare set her lacrosse stick against the wall and crossed her arms as she gazed at him suspiciously. Bryn rolled his eyes. "Come on," he insisted with wide eyes as he opened the door. Clare reluctantly followed him out the door and to his car. She hopped into the passenger seat as he started the car. She pulled the seatbelt across her body and clicked it in place as Bryn backed out of their driveway and drove off.

"Are you going to tell me where you're taking me?" Clare asked after a few moments of sitting in the car with him.

He smiled and shook his head. "Nope," he replied, staring at the road ahead. She scowled and crossed her arms. He laughed at her. He had always enjoyed good-naturedly torturing her more than anyone else.

They arrived at their destination about ten minutes later. Bryn parked the car in the first space in front of the Verizon shop. Clare shot him a curious look. He rolled his eyes as he put up the emergency brake. "We're getting you a cell phone," he announced before stepping out of the car. Clare followed him and ambled on behind him as they entered the store.

It only took a few minutes of looking before Bryn picked out an Iphone 4 for his sister. Clare hadn't really been paying attention. She appreciated what her brother was trying to do, but she wasn't really in the mood for phone shopping. She smiled at him as he showed the phone to her, but she slowly lost herself in her thoughts. Her attention moved away from him to the back wall, where her gaze rested as she pondered. "...It'll be great. You can put all your music on it and maybe you could get some apps and actually enjoy yourself for once..." he trailed off. He looked down at his sister who was staring blankly at the wall covered with phone accessories. He scowled lightly and shoved her with his arm. She blinked rapidly and looked up at him. He rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Lune. You need to work with me here," he said as he wrapped an arm around her. She gave him a small smile. "Go pick out a case," he told her as he directed her with his arm.

Clare listened to her brother and followed her previous line of sight to the accessories wall. She spotted the case she wanted almost immediately. It was a chevron striped case with gray, white, and sky blue stripes. Standing on her tip-toes, she retrieved the case and turned to find her brother. She could see him standing at the counter, handing the box to the clerk. Clare walked over to him with the case in hand. She smiled lightly at the man behind the counter and handed him the case. He scanned it and Bryn pulled out his wallet.

Clare noticed that her brother's tactics were beginning to work. She was slowly starting to calm down and forget about what had happened. She was excited to have a cell phone again. She smiled at Bryn as he paid and grabbed the bag. "Thanks," she said as the pair exited the building. Bryn grinned at her. He quickly walked over to the car and slipped the bag inside the car before joining her on the sidewalk. "What are we doing now?" she asked, looking at him suspiciously.

Bryn grinned and answered simply, "Ice cream." This earned him a laugh from his younger sister. She shook her head at him as they began walking passed the shops to the ice cream parlor.

"But it's cold," she protested. She looked over at her brother who shrugged. She laughed again.

They walked into the ice cream shop with the sounding of a bell. The pair quickly approached the counter as there was no line. The tall, plump man behind the counter greeted them warmly as they leaned over the flavors like ten-year-olds. Clare could always be enthusiastic about ice cream. Even if it was cold outside.

A few minutes later Bryn and Clare were sitting at a table eating their ice cream. Bryn had gotten two scoops of cookies and cream in a cup and Clare had chosen two scoops of mint chocolate chip in a cup. They had been silently eating their ice cream and Clare was beginning to feel better. She was still angry and sad, but now at least it wasn't at the front of her mind. She had pushed it back and she would let it sit until she had another mental break down in her backyard.

"So I'm guessing your date with Isaac didn't go very well," Bryn said after a few minutes of silently eating. She looked up at him with an annoyed expression. He was wearing an innocent smile that Clare couldn't help but smile at. She shook her head. He knew very well that it wasn't a date, but he was being a dumb older brother and was trying to annoy her.

"My non-date with Isaac went very poorly, in case that wasn't obvious enough," she replied flatly, as she scooped another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. Bryn nodded, pursing his lips uncomfortably.

Bryn drummed his fingers on the table, being that his cup of ice cream was already empty. "Do you want to talk about it or—" he began before she cut him off.

"Nope," she answered simply, focusing on the emptying cup before her.

He sighed in relief, "Okay, good." She looked up at him and smiled knowingly.

"I like your attempt at being the ideal big brother there," she noted with a light smirk. He chuckled.

"I can try," he said with a playful grin and a shrug. She smiled at him and looked back down at her last bite before she scooped it into her mouth.

"You're not doing so bad," she said with a shrug.

"Yeah?" he asked with a lifted brow.

"Yeah," she answered with a small smile. She stood with her empty cup in hand and grabbed his too. She punched him playfully in the shoulder on her way to throw out the empty ice cream cups. He laughed and stood.

They walked out of the shop together, biding the shopkeeper goodbye on their way. It was getting dark outside and Clare was beginning to remember the mound of homework she had to do. She stifled a groan at the thought. She wasn't prepared to thrust herself back into school work after all she had dealt with.

As Clare and her brother drove off, Clare gazed out the window. She watched the shops slowly pass by her until they disappeared and all that remained was the thick forest. She had to sigh. It seemed like the perfect place to run to. It was quiet and peaceful and she wished that she could escape into those woods and never come out. There she was—thinking about running again. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. Perhaps the only thing that stopped her from running away was the idea that it would only prove Isaac right. And she was determined to prove him wrong. She wasn't a runner. She was a fighter. She would show him. She wasn't ready to stop running, but she would if only to prove that she still had a little fight left in her.

A/N: Crappy ending is crappy. Oh well. Still love me? :3 Sorry about the typos too. I had to rush to finish this and I'll have to edit it more thoroughly later.

So update for next week: I go back to school on the 21st, but before that I'm going on vacation in Aspen from the 14th-19th. I'm going to be on the train for a total of 48+ hours so I'm hoping if my muse cooperates that I can get 2-3 chapters written. Once school starts updates will be less frequent and probably only once every two weeks. :'( Buttt I'm really enjoying writing this story so I definitely won't leave you guys hanging for very long.

Also, holy fuck 100+ follows! That is so amazing and I'm so glad that people actually like this story. Thank you guys so much for your support and love! You're all the best readers anyone could ask for!

Love you!

-Dani