Everything had gone down hill when Stiles' battery had gone through the window. Their escape route had been nixed, and Dr. Deaton was still no where to be found. A while back, Stiles had suggested that they call Stiles' dad, which was shot down by Stiles and her. Then he suggested calling Solomon, obviously forgetting the fact that Solomon had no magic, whatsoever.

Then they'd ran, she did alot of running these days, and tried to get out, thwarted by a dumpster. Stiles was fairly desperate to not die at school, which she seconded very loudly, heading the sprint in the opposite direction when the Alpha came at him. She wasn't going to bring up the idea that maybe they should just give Scott to him.

Around the time they barricaded the door, she was on the verge of really telling him to give himself up. If it came down to it, she'd throw him out. Stiles had then taunted this thing, which would be ranked among the stupidest things he'd ever done in his entire life, and almost brought the roof down on them. Running again.

At least she was stationary now. With the arrival of Allison, Lydia, and Jackson….

She was shunted inside a classroom, standing back from the chair stacking, taking in the windows. She supposed...her and Stiles would have to be sassy by themselves. Very sad.

"Guys -," he tired. "Can we just wait a second? You guys, listen to me, w - Can we wait a second? Guys? Stiles talking. Can we hang on one second, please?"

His eyes flicked black as he raised his voice, "Hello!" His eyes were ringed slightly as if the black would seep out, but he cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay, nice work. Really beautiful job, everyone. Now - what should we do about the 20 foot wall of windows?"

Everyone looked, eyes widening. Jackson was more perceptive, and pointed at Stiles, looking to her. She shrugged, passing her hand trhough the air as if the clear it, dodging a question for Stiles.

"Can somebody please explain to me what's going on, because I'm freaking out here. And I would like to know why. Scott?"

"Somebody killed the janitor," Stiles explained.

"What?" Lydia asked.

"Yeah, the janitor's dead," Stiles said.

Olive was cast in a shadow. Stiles could say whatever about..whatever, but he didn't look at her like he looked at Lydia. As they talked about the dead janitor, she was shunted to the side, Stiles giving Lydia his full attention, something she never really got. She would take a back seat all the time, because she wasn't...important.

"What's he talking about? Is this a joke?" Allison asked, smile flickering across her lips.

"What, who killed him?" Jackson asked.

"No, no, no, no. This was supposed to be over. The mountain lion killed - " Lydia started.

Jackson interrupted, "No, don't you get it? There wasn't a mountain lion."

"Who was it? What does he want? What's happening? Scott!"

"I - I don't know. I - I just," Scott was stammering madly. " If - if we go out there, he's gonna kill us."

"Us? He's gonna kill us?" Lydia asked.

Allison looked over to Stiles, "Who? Who is it?

Stiles gaped, eyes moving from Olive, to Scott. She shoved her nail into her mouth, biting down repeatedly, shifting nervously in the space between Stiles and Lydia. Scott remained hunched over, while Allison

"It's Derek," Scott finally exclaimed. "It's Derek Hale."

"Derek killed the janitor?" Jackson queried.

"Are you sure?" Allison asked, as if he'd actually lie about someone dying. The person, maybe, but not the death.

"I saw him," Scott said.

"The mountain li - " Lydia tried.

"No, Derek killed them," Scott said.

"All of them?" Allison sounded shocked, as she should be.

"Yeah, starting with his own sister."

"The bus driver?"

"And the guy in the video store - it's been Derek the whole time. He's in here with us. And if we don't get out now - He's going to kill us too."

"Call the cops," Jackson said almost instantly

"No," Stiles said instantly.

"Wh - what do you mean "No?" Jackson asked.

"I mean no. You wanna hear it in spanish? No," Stiles stuck his jaw out stubbornly, "Look, Derek killed three people, okay? We don't know what he's armed with."

"Your dad is armed with an entire sheriff's department. Call him," Jackson ordered, gesturing towards Stiles animatedly.

"I'm calling," Lydia said, stepping out of the little line they'd created to interrogate Scott.

Stiles started forward, nudging Olive over to get closer to Lydia.

"No, Lydia, would you just hold on a sec -" Stiles reached for the phone.

Jackson shoved him back, allowing Lydia to place the call. Scott stepped in to stop Jackson from going any further, and Olive caught his elbow, reeling him back in. His eyes darted to Allison, and Olive frowned, tapping her thumb over her lips, intensely interested by this development. It had to be a power thing? Or did he really mean it?

That muscled thing was really hard to read, Olive decided. He always worked for some kind of ulterior motive, which, at points, rivaled her own powers of manipulation.

"Yes, we're at Beacon Hills high school. We're trapped, and we need you to - but -" Lydia pulled the phone away from her ear. " She hung up on me."

"The police hung up on you?

Lydia nodded, "She said they got a tip warning them that there are gonna be prank calls about a break - in at the high school. She said if I called again that they're gonna trace it and have me arrested.

"Okay, then call again," Allison said.

"No, they won't trace a cell and they'll send a car to your house before they send anyone here," Stiles said.

"Or he might actually come if you call," Olive responded, looking up at him, arms tight over her chest.

"No-god, how many times do I have to say no?!"

"Well, they're not going to feel safe, and," she hissed the next words so quietly only Stiles could hear it, "Shut up, until you do it."

"What the—what - what is this?" Allison pressed hands to her head. "Why does Derek wanna kill us? Why is he killing anyone?" Allison asked, talking over Olive.

Everyone looked to Scott except for Olive, who still looked up at Stiles, wanting him to use what he had. If he had the guts, he could rid the Alpha of his own. Wasted talent; she should be able to do what he did.

"Why's everyone looking at me?" Scott asked.

"Is he the one that sent her the text?" Lydia queried.

"No. I mean, I don't know," Scott was really not good under pressure.

"Is he the one that called the police?" Allison volleyed another question at him.

"I don't know!" Scott exclaimed, and they all kind of leaned back. Scott was a mellow dude, he didn't shout much. In fact, if Olive said, his voice was so monotone, she swore he was taking Xanax, or something.

"All right, why don't we ease back on the throttle here, yeah?" Stiles pushed Scott over, away from the group.

Lydia whispered something along the lines of, 'I told you so'. Olive crossed arms over her chest, avoiding Jackson's questioning gaze, wishing she could get a finger on him, persuade him not to pursue the venture of Stiles' oddity for the time being. With Lydia there, she might assume the worst. Jackson watched the whisper a few feet over, eyes narrowed as he observed them.

Olive felt she should be included in the huddle, but whatever.

"Okay, assheads - new plan. Stiles calls his useless dad and tells him to send someone with a gun and decent aim. Are we good with that?" Jackson was instantly aggressive, which really wasn't a good idea, in this situation.

"He's right," Scott said. "Tell him the truth if you have to, just - just call him.

Stiles's words were hard to catch, but she heard them;"I'm not watching my dad get eaten alive."

"All right, give me the phone,"Jackson surged forward, grabbing his shoulder.

Stiles brought his fist down, sending Jackson careening off to the side. Olive shoved her fists into the pockets of her sweatpants, eyes flicking to Stiles, taking quick strides to his side, resting a hand on his shoulder. Surprisingly, his eyes weren't even tinted black. She looked to Jackson, looking up at him, pinky landing on the skin of his neck. Stiles did what she wanted, what they all wanted, and called his father.

"Dad, hey, it's me. And it's your voice mail. Look, I need you to call me back now. Like, right now."

Olive caught the wiff of smugness from Jackson, whipping her head around to glare at his hunched form, wondering how she hadn't caught that. Her hand tightened on Stiles's shoulder, curling in the cloth fabric of his tan jacket. No one was going to out manipulate her.

The door began banging, and everyone started to mill around in a panic, backing away from the trembling door. Why it wasn't just killing them made Olive frustrated. If it was going to toy with them, it may as well be a cat.

"We're at the school, okay? Dad, we're at the school," Stiles ended his call, sliding his phone back in his pocket.

Screws came loose,and the metal actually bent. Olive fisted her hand in his jacket, shaking him briefly, hissing, "Do something." Stiles shook his head and she let his jacket go, thoroughly disgusted with his inability to use the talents he possessed. Not inability, just stubborn refusal.

"Oh my god," Lydia yelped, pressing her cheek into Jackson's coat.

Allison was at Scott's side, apparently forgetting his little snap.

"The kitchen, the door out of the kitchen leads to the stairwell," Stiles said.

"Which only goes up," Scott stated.

The last of the screw flew out of their hold, and they turned and ran, sprinting up steps, till they came to the second level, checking the first door. Locked. The second one wasn't locked, but it was the chemistry lab. Basically, Mr. Harris did continue to scare her, even here. Okay, yea, the Alpha would kill her, but that man would make her life a living hell if she made it out.

"Up is better than here," Stiles said, and Olive nodded rapidly.

"Jackson, how many people can fit in your car?" Scott asked.

"Five, if someone squeezes on someone's lap," Jackson said.

"Jackson five," Olive muttered, mostly to herself, and Stiles laughed, the noise muffled behind a hand.

"Five? I barely fit in the back," Allison whispered loudly.

"It doesn't matter. There's no getting out without drawing attention," Stiles said.

"What about this?" Scott ran across the room to a door in the corner, Stiles and Olive following. "This leads to the roof. We can go down the fire escape to the parking lot in, like, seconds."

"deadbolt, genius," Olive sniped, biting her thumb nail too hard, tasting blood.

"The janitor has a key," Scott acted as if this was a huge discovery.

"You mean his body has it," Stiles stated.

"I can get it. I can find him by scent, by blood," Scott looked as if he was already planning it.

Olive was all for it. Team Scott, yea, as long as she got out of her, and back to her new dog. She should've stayed home. Next time, she was not going on an exodus to where ever with these two.

"Well, gee, that sounds like an incredibly terrible idea. What else you got?"

"I'm getting the key," Scott decided, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Are you serious?" Allison said.

"Well, it's the best plan. Someone has to get the key if we wanna get out of here," Scott said, as Stiles and Olive sidled up behind him.

"You can't go out there unarmed," Allison put up a hand, as if that would stop him.

Scott reached out for a pointy thing that Mr. Harris used to be extra sarcastic. He waved it around as everyone gave him a non-plussed look, completely unamused.

"Well, it's better than nothing," Scott tried.

"There's gotta be something else," Stiles sighed.

"I'll go with him," Olive volunteered, raising her hand briefly. "Might as well-" Get killed now, rather than later. She decided against that, opening her mouth to say, " you know what, positivity."

"As well as that, there is something else," Lydia put in, looking over to the chemical cabinet.

"What are we gonna do? Throw acid on him?" Stiles asked.

"No. Like a fire bomb. In there is everything you need to make a self - igniting molotov cocktail," Lydia was talking faster than her usual, confident way of doing so.

"Self - igniting - " Stiles started.

"- molotov cocktail." Lydia finished, and everyone was silent for a beat." What? I read it somewhere."

"We don't have a key for that either," Scott said.

Jackson rolled his eyes, before digging his elbow into the glass. Olive really needed to not be here. Mr. Harris's face tomorrow-if there was one-was going to rival her Aunt's scolding once she got home. They set up the proper station at Lydia's direction, though Olive stood off to the side, wondering when she'd gotten so friendly with Scott as to risk death.

"Jackson, hand me the sulfuric acid," Lydia asked, and Olive watched as Jackson chose the wrong one.

His emotions were so jumbled, she couldn't pin down anything expect that tell-tale throb of anger. He was angry at someone, wanted something, and she was fairly sure he was jeopardizing hers and Scott's mission just to achieve this.

Lydia corked the bottle, handing it to Scott.

Allison voiced her complaints, "No. No, this is insane, you can't do this. You cannot go out there."

"We can't just sit here waiting for Stiles' dad to check his messages," Scott pointed out.

"You could die. Don't you get that? He's killed three people," Allison had leaned across the table to reaffirm this.

"And we're next. Somebody has to do something," Scott tapped Olive, moving over to the door. He looked hesitant as he touched her, as if he shouldn't allow her with him. But she was going; because she she couldn't take Stiles looking at Lydia at every moment she wasn't turned to him.

"Scott, just stop. Do you remember - do you remember when you told me you knew whether or lying? That I had a tell. Well, so do you. You're a horrible liar. And you've been lying all night. Just," Allison was whispering, voice cracking here and there as she started to cry. " - just please - please don't go. Please don't leave us. Please,"

He started to walk towards the door, saying. "Lock it behind us."

Allison grabbed Scott, just as Stiles took a step towards her, long fingers stretched to her as if he was going to say stop. Stop, and stay, or stop her, kiss her like Allison was kissing Scott, but...like Stiles only could. She swallowed hard, mouth opening to say his name, wishing she hadn't volunteered, that she wasn't….

Scott walked out of the door, closing it before he handed her the chemical combination. Olive was 50% sure it wasn't going to work, but she was going to follow Scott anyways, staying behind him as he tracked the smell.

They ended up venturing under the bleachers, Olive making sure she wasn't breathing too hard as Scott moved forward. He lifted his head up, blood dripping on his cheek. Scott slapped his hand down, holding up red for himself to see. Looking up, they both saw the bloody form of the Janitor. Pete, or something? She'd never really interacted with him, so she felt little to nothing.

Scott moved into position to take the keys, stretching, the keys beginning to jangle. The bleachers shifted, moved, and begun to close. Olive snapped her fingers, shifting where she stood, beginning to bounce. They dropped, as Scott did, and she picked them up, leading the run out of the bleachers.

She slammed into the wall as she made it out, shouting as she felt her shoulder pop out, hanging there limply. Fuck.

The creature prowled towards her and Scott.

"Come on. Come get me. Olive!"

She stepped up, and threw the bottle. No fire. Nothing. The creature leapt towards her, claws ripping through her turtle neck, sending her flying through the air, pain spiraling through her body, returning ten fold as she hit the wall of the gymnasium. Olive shuffled wildly, trying desperately to her to her feet as a long howl filled the school. Scott bucked and jerked, as the creature ran off, head turning to her briefly, snorting as if disgusted.

Olive felt something warm and wet begin to pulse from her abdominal region, where the claws had been. She pressed her hand to the location, drawing back, seeing blood, her blood on her hand. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she struggled to stay awake, knowing she was going into some kind of panic. Scott got up, and walked out, nails longer.

She tasted blood as she sat up, reaching for him, falling forward. I'm going to bleed out, she thought, I'm going to bleed out, and die, and Milo won't get-

"Fuck that," she whispered, heaving herself to her feet using her one working hand, feeling blood moving a bit faster out of her. "Fuck."

At least she was ground floor, stumbling towards the front doors like the living dead, world flicking black once or twice. Then Stiles had her, shouting at her, words muffled by the thick veil of pain that insisted on dulling her senses. She stared at him, only able to focus on one thing.

"Olive, don't let go," Stiles said, those words getting through, and she grabbed his wrist. "My dad-Ambulance-" his words cut out.

"It hurts," she stated dumbly, pressing her hand on her wounds, everything dimming. "I don't want…"

Her knees wobbled and gave out. Stiles followed her descent instantly, actually cupping her in his arms.

"I don't want to die without actually kissing a guy," she laughed, blood oozing out as she did so. "Wow, I have the shittiest life ever."

"You kissed me," Stiles said instantly, blue and red flashing lights coming through the windows of the front doors. "Remember? We were like..8, and you were forcing Scott to do that marriage thing. Don't even get me started on how much I still collectively hate that. So, you kissed me after you said I do, and I remember that to this day, because that was way too young to be doing anything."

"We were just kids."

Was it just her proximity to the option of passing out, or was she…really contemplating the word love?

Then the EMT's had her on a stretcher, talking quickly to each other. She finally let go.

Olive shifted awake, head lolling pathetically to the side, shuffling once or twice, trying to focus hard enough to make Stiles notice her. Don't be so self-absorbed, she thought, reaching out to no one in particular. Her small hand was encased in Dr. Deaton's, both of his hands cupping the one, patted once or twice as the engine started. Stiles jogged towards Lydia, eyes flickering once to her, but nothing came of that move.

Dr. Deaton looked at him as well, transferring his gaze presently onto hers as the EMT's closed the doors. He patted her hand once again, smoothing wet from her cheek. Olive's chest shook despite the pain, pressing her lips together, breathing rapidly, shuddering with pre-crying breaths, bandages stopping much other movement. Or was it post? She didn't know.

What she did know, was that she didn't have him. Not in the slightest.

"Boys are stupid, Halina," Deaton said, squeezing her hand, guessing precisely what she was thinking.

She nodded.

"Wait till college, they'll notice a gorgeous girl like you, I swear."

She shook her head, opening her mouth, voice cracking as she said, "I'm a bit too weird."

"Weird, how so?" Amusement colored his voice, as if he didn't believe her.

"I can't tell you," She said eventually, recognising the harsh light of the hospital.

"I know more than you know, Halina. You are welcome to talk to me. I was friends with your mother far longer than I have been with your father. I know."

The door opened, and she was pulled out of the ambulance, hand slipping from Deaton's friendly, assuring hold. He waved at her, and she didn't move to respond in kind.

Stiles was in love with Lydia. 5'3, strawberry blonde, gorgeous, and not pathetic. She was 5'6, somewhat brunette, okay, odd, too snippy, too…. Morphine dragged her under, out of her thoughts, into a perfect, perfect land of bliss. No Stiles, no Lydia, no high school.

Nothing.