Chapter Seven: Antique Dreams

Song Inspiration: "Murder Song (5, 4, 3, 2, 1)" By AURORA

SCOTT POV:

The flat line rings through my ears like a whispered secret. Chills fall down my spin in frosted tear drops, an unnatural shiver igniting every nerve of my body. Malia's whole life summed up in that deafening stillness that follows. But I refuse to accept that.

I act on instinct and begin pumping on her chest, my brown eyes most likely crazed as a deranged howl echos off my lips. I turn to face my mom and I feel the monster boiling to the surface, a red influx flooding my eyes, "Mom" I croak, "Save her, please!" I beg, maintaining my rhythm, hoping to start her heart again. I push hard and deep, a few of her ribs giving a way a bit under the pressure.

Mom gasps and rushes to the other side of the room and grabs the electric defibrillator. She touches them together to create a spark and races over after everything is hooked up. The back of her hand grazes Malia's cool forehead, "We're not giving up on you yet, Sweet heart." She moves with urgency and grace, "Everybody get back! Clear!" She commands, shoving the electrical pads into Malia's chest. Her willowy frame convulses at the impact, her body lifting violently off the bed. I can still hear the ringing in my ears, all sounds feeling like background noise. Her back thuds against the bed when mom tries again. Same result, nothing.

"I can save her." I say, already typing in Derek's number into my phone, "He gave up his Alpha status to save Cora when she was dying, I can do the same thing."

"Scott, do you know what you'd be giving up?" Stiles rationalizes, always the one to think through every decision.

I think it over and a little reluctance and doubt begins to set in, "I'd give it all up for her if there's no other way." I reply honestly. Brutally. "If there was any other option, I'd take it. But I don't know if she has that kind of time. She needs someone now. I have to do something."

I'm so scared, scared of all the things I'd miss about her; sharp claws and beguiling lips, fierce brown eyes, and the whimsical melody of her laugh. She's a typhoon; gorgeous and damning but now she is dying and I'm about to walk into her storm, half-cocked with shadows of a prayer on my lips.

I take hold of her broken body in my arms that's barely gone cold and I pull at every sliver of my soul that bleeds for her. I can do this. I can do this.

My nose starts to bleed scarlet trails down my cupid's bow and I feel it leaking from the corners of my eyes and ears. I scream in pain but I keep pulling until Stiles jerks me away from her. Malia's body falls limp on the bed, splatters of my blood marring her clothes and a splotch lands on her cheek that dripped from my nose.

"Scott, you're going into this recklessly and you're going to get yourself fucking killed!" Stiles yells in my face, "What are we suppose to do if you end up offing yourself trying to save her?"

I think about what he said and he's right. I have a duty to my pack, I'm their leader. But who would I be if I just let her die?

"I wouldn't be doing this if we had another choice. If she just mysteriously dies, there would be an investigation that we wouldn't be able to explain." I turn my gaze to Allison, "We protect those who cannot protect themselves, right?"

My bleeding, shifty eyes move back and forth between her and Stiles. I sigh, a strangled noise crawling out my throat.

My moping best friend fumes as he stomps petulantly over to a raging Allison who's hand covers her mouth in horror and sadness.

Deaton shuffles around to our side just as Allison lets out a strangled sob when she sees Malia lying there and Stiles stands stock still, his honey eyes looking lost. Deaton whips to face them, "Get him out of here." He says calmly while nodding in my direction, "We can't let his emotions get in the way. He can't be here while we do this."

A warning snarl slips between my furled lips. My canines peek out with their razor sharpness, "I'm not leaving without her."

Stiles tries to reign me in and I shove him off, "I'm not going anywhere, she needs me!" I demand irrationally that draws out into a watery plea, "I don't want her to wake up and think I abandoned her."

Mom grabs my face between her hands and runs her thumbs over my cheeks, "Honey, if you want to see her alive, you have to go. I know this is asking a lot, but you're just going to have to trust us." She states firmly, her brown eyes holding compassion but also finality.

Allison puts her hand on my shoulder, her and Stiles attempting to drag me out of the room but my eyes never leave her; her heart-shaped face, blue-hued eyelids, and disheveled golden-brown hair. I'm terrified that the last time I'll see her is like this, lying dead on my sheets.

"Come on, Scott." Allison says teary-eyed, "Let them do what they need to do, we promised Kira and Theo."

I don't really remember the trek down the stairs, the conversation that was bound to of happened in order to ease my mind, or the minutes after that drone on. The winding clock seems to have stopped, each tick moving in slow motion like spokes on a wheel that refuse to turn. Seconds could of gone by. Minutes. Hours. But then I hear the silver lining in the midst of the white noise, a heart beat. Faint, but it's there.

I run up the stairs two at a time with Allison and Stiles following behind me. I burst through the door and there she is. She looks better. More alive. Not great, but better. Some color has returned to her cheeks and deep frown lines sit as crevices in her skin.

Allison grabs my hand and Stiles stays at my side as we near the bed, "Is she-" I begin but my mom knowing me so well already has an answer waiting for me, "We got her heart started again, she's stable. But… we can't get her to wake up. She hasn't moved since we brought her back."

I roll her explanation around in my head. Looking at her, I wait for her to go on. I wait for any indication of when Malia will wake up, what's wrong with her, when I can talk to her.

"Scott," Mom pulls me into a hug resting her chin on my shoulder and pulls back, "Malia's in a coma. We don't know why or for how long. Her vitals are within normal range and nothing seems to be physically wrong with her besides the bite. It could be shock or the seizure she experienced, maybe even some emotional trauma she's not ready to face yet. We're on her time now and all we can do is wait. But in the mean time, Deaton has someone he called in to help."

On cue, Peter Hale frantically pushes through the door with a look of panic breaking through his careful facade. He sees Malia and all color drains from his face, "What the hell happened to my daughter?"

MALIA POV:

White. Clean. A blank slate.

I'm standing in a room that I know shouldn't be able to exist, a place inside my mind that doesn't seem to fit. A space so clean shouldn't belong inside someone like me. A flash of unnatural light beams bright against my eyes, so much that it burns.

An opaque figure materializes before me.

It's me.

"You look like shit." Vision-me simpers drolly.

My head spins, "This is way too Orphan Black for me," I squint through the blinding light radiating off of her-me-whoever, "So this is what it's like to actually see yourself in person… is my hair always that messy?"

Other-me laughs, her gleaming white teeth shining pearly, "Is that really the question you want to ask?"

"Touche" I purse my lips with a shrug, "Who are you… and why am I seeing you? Why are you here? Am I dead?"

She chuckles, shaking her head, "I'm you, but better. Stronger. Wiser." She sniffs and looks me over with hooded eyes, "Better skin, too." She walks closer and the startling similarities make my skin crawl, "I'm you. You're me. Just a different version. From a different time. Different reality all together."

I struggle to wrap my head around her explanation, "Like past lives?" I cock my head over one shoulder, "And you'll have to forgive me, my skin care routine hasn't been my first priority." I say with a bit of snark, lifting my shirt to expose my butchered flesh, "Clean and Clear didn't have a miracle cure for this."

Other-me chuckles. "You're feisty, glad some things haven't changed. And to answer your question, it's more like coexisting universes. What's not happening here is most likely happening somewhere else. Things and people you've dreamed of seeing, being… fucking, it's probably happening in parallel worlds to another version of you and I." She brushes a piece of hair from my face, "And no, you're not dead. You were, but Scott's mom brought you back, I always liked her." She smiles fondly, "Technically you're in a mind-warp, a sort of limbo."

I groan, "Just my luck. I spent my whole life wondering whether or not there's even a Heaven or Hell and now I see that I don't even qualify for either. I'm stuck in purgatory talking to a snide version of myself."

"So dramatic. How do you know that you're simply not just another version of me?"

My fierce brown eyes scan her distrustfully. It's scary when you know the sad truth of what you're capable of to a point that you don't even fully trust yourself. The irony is not lost on me. "You know Scott… back wherever you came from?" I start feebly. The thought that maybe somewhere else, Scott and I are different. Maybe we're the same. Maybe we fall in sync better, we don't butt heads, but we challenge each other in the same way we do now. Maybe there's the same passion, heat, and quiet intimacy that burns hot in between us. Can something like that transcend time and space?

"I know Scott." She begins softly, swiping her thumb over her bottom lip, "He's my home. I wouldn't be who I am without him."

Fear creeps up my spine as I catch onto the hint that she's leading to but I ask anyways, "He's important to you?"

She smirks softly with a heavy sigh, "He's the best parts of me. The second I tried to tell myself I wasn't in love is the moment I realized I was."

I let that seep in, the finality of it. The possibility of it. The knowing that seeing Scott in a state of rapture and fire makes me burn so good, the way his fingers graze against my skin. Tenderly, thoughtfully. I love the way it burns. I remember the feeling when he held me in the car. I couldn't speak, but I knew it was him there. I let my mind wander over his tired shoulders, his inky brown eyes, and the thought-provoking ease he holds when it comes to wanting to protect me.

"There's others," She tacks on, I've met another one of us. That version actually dated Stiles first." She chuckles when I make a face, "It didn't work out though. He was taken by these creatures called Ghost Riders who erased him from existence for while. In the meantime, she started slowly falling in love with her Scott."

"You've met others?" I balk, the very idea seems so surreal. But the thought of infinite Scotts running around somewhere makes me smile for some reason.

"Yes, and there's always a running theme. Every version of us always finds their way back to Scott. It always comes back to him." She catches on to my trepidation, "Even if you don't see it now, Scott will always be there for you whenever you're ready."

The thoughts and feelings sink into my stomach and I shove it to the back of my mind for another time. I stand vulnerably defiant, a bold oxymoron and let my curiosity take over, "Why are you here?"

She smiles brightly, "To help you get out of here. There's stuff you're repressing: emotions, feelings… memories that are stopping you from waking up. I'm here to rectify that."

"What do you-" Before I can finish, she touches my arm and I feel a sharp zap in the center of my chest. I'm back in the woods from the other night. I'm watching a scene unfold before me.

The woods sit still and a sordid black. Every tree looks like the one before it. I can hear Theo and Liam flirting not too far off. I'd known he was following all along, I just thought I'd be funny to let it happen anyways. I guess it was a part of the little theory of mine I had going, how long it would take for Liam to get over himself and just give into his desires. Theo loves butt stuff, he could only hold out for so long.

The wind rustles the leaves beneath my feet and I get that same feeling of being watched I'd felt outside the dorms. Anxiety falls down my spine and tickles my toes. The hairs stand on the back of my neck as I feel a phantom touch of cool breath evaporate on my skin. Someone is behind me.

I turn and there's no one there. Of course there's nothing there.

A shadow flies by in the corner of my eye. My gaze whips on command, following but missing it each and every time. Two shadows circle around me in fitful disarrays, fast and blurry to a point that I can't keep up. My body turns at odd angles, just to get a glimpse of what I'm up against. Just a clue of who went after Emery and butchered her like a pig for slaughter. I just need a snap of a picture, a gap in between those seconds the shadows flutter around me. All I need is a face.

"Ahhhh!" I groan. Something sharp and lethal grazed my side, the skin erupting in prickling sensations. Heat swells with the onslaught of a hot flash and the raging burn feels deep within my bones. "Fucking hell." I sigh, on the defense. I can sense them closing in on me and for a moment I wish I had listened to Scott. I could call to Theo, but I wouldn't do that. His safety means more to me than my own.

The sound resembling a gunshot cuts through the night and the shadows flee at the noise. I thought about going after them but thought better of it, knowing I was no use in this state. I rip a piece of my shirt and press it against the bite to relieve some of the pain. Once I gain my composure, I make the trek back in the direction I heard the noise. Theo and Liam had to be close.

Other-me grabs a hold of my wrist and we're back in the white room.

I shudder at the memory as my body wracks with unflinching anxiety.

"You don't know what bit you, do you?"

"No" I mumble, "But they smelled familiar… like a distant memory or something." I disclose, unconsciously running my fingers over my wound. "I can't remember."

"But now you have something to go on, a feeling… intuition. Think harder, Malia." She grabs my hand and I'm thrust into another hollow-like memory that I wish was only a dream.

I'm nine years old. In tatters, stitching my life back together, learning to cope.

Peter hangs around a lot, I think he's trying to make up for the eight years he lost. I heard the whole story, the hellish mother who hated her spawn from conception, the dawning thought that she could maybe love me one day never crossing her mind. Peter had his mind wiped by a headstrong Talia who thought she was doing what was best for me, and maybe she was. Because of her, I got a family that I wouldn't trade for the world, but I lost them all the same. Maybe if I had grown up in the Hale family, my mother and sister never would have been slaughtered in my name. But then again, they never would have been my mother and sister to begin with.

Peter sleeps on the couch sometimes, we're getting to know each other. Him and Henry have formed somewhat of an understanding. My dad has always been able to sniff out bad intentions, and it seems like he's come to like Peter over the past year and a half. I've met my cousin Derek and Cora. Derek's a bit broody for my taste, but Cora has just the right amount of bitchiness that I can respect. We blend well together. And with that also came my cousin Laura. Where Derek was the evasive relative, Cora the best friend I always needed, Laura was the big sister I always wanted. The one I'd always hoped to be for Kylie.

My mind moves in fast forward as the vision shifts to one of the worst days of my life.

"Laura's dead." Cora cries into my shoulder. She'd snuck through my window and beat her small 10 year old fists on the glass. She now sits with her head in my neck as her fresh, wet tears bleed through my t-shirt.

Wetness pools in my eyes and I grab fistfuls of her shirt in my weak, numbing fingers, "This better not be some kind of sick prank, Cora. If this is a lie you better tell me." I sob, fresh angry lines left in the wake of my tears that dribble down my face. She shakes her head and splutters a watery whisper, "She's gone, Malia."

My nine year old body recoils and my jaw clenches in uncontrollable rage, the hot, angry tears continuing to fall, "What happened?"

"Peter… he… he went into a frenzy. He still gets fits of irrationality and ptsd from the fire that took the rest of our family. He went out into the woods to calm himself down, he didn't want you to see him like that. He just- he didn't know what he was doing-"

"Cora" I deadpan, "What- did he do?" My gilded eyes blaze like honeyed whiskey as I stare back at her determined for her to tell me.

"He- he tore her apart. He's the Alpha now."

"So your Peter is just as much of a screw up as mine." Other-me ponders, "He may be a monster, but he'll get better. At least mine did. I have to believe that there's some good in him."

"I don't know if he can be saved. Or if I even want to save him." I mutter begrudgingly, "He's the reason I've got these." I say flashing my blue eyes.

"What did he-"

"A story for another time." I cut her off. "It's time for me to go back."

She puts her hands out in a welcoming gesture, "By all means, go back."

"I thought you were suppose to help me get out of here, I don't know what to do."

"Can you hear him?" She whispers longingly, "God, he sounds just like my Scott. I miss him."

"Hear who?" I ask confused, I don't hear anything.

"It's time for me to go." Other-me states, taking careful steps back into radiating light that somehow I hadn't even noticed was there again. She's starting to fade from view and I try running after her but it's like I'm moving in quicksand. "Wait, you didn't tell me how to wake up!"

"Listen to him, Malia." She says gently, "Follow his voice… it'll always lead you back home."

"What does that mean?" I shout in worry.

"Trust him…." Her voice fades away until she disappears in a blaze of glory and I'm left alone again twiddling my thumbs in the stark white room that seems to have grown smaller.

"Fuck." I grit out, running my fingers through my tousled hair.

"Follow his voice… it'll always lead you back home."

SCOTT POV:

"What the hell did you say?"

Peter glares tauntingly, "I know school isn't your strong suit, Scott, but I thought you'd be able to keep up. I asked what happened to my daughter?"

I snarl at him as I stand protectively over Malia, "You're lying, she's never mentioned you."

A slip of sadness flashes in his eyes before he wipes it away but it's too late, I'd seen it. "Malia and I have had our falling outs, but she is indeed my flesh and blood. Ask Deaton, he's the one who called me."

I turn to face Deaton and wait for him to invalidate his claims. There's no way she could come from him. Malia is wild, unpredictable, and a bit abrasive, but she is no Peter Hale. I refuse to believe that someone as good as her could come from someone as sadistic as him.

"It's true, Scott." Deaton says calmly but it feels like a roaring in my ear. "Malia was adopted by Henry Tate who she considers her real father. But Peter here is her biological father." He states matter-of-fact.

I run my fingers over my crooked, stubbled jaw, "She couldn't-she wouldn't… she had to of heard Stiles and I talking about him on move-in day. We were in the other room but it's not like she wasn't listening." I mutter under my breath.

Stiles places his arm around my shoulder, "Dude, she couldn't of known who we were talking about. Peter's a very common name, no offense." He gabs, throwing a look of disdain in the older man's direction, "Actually, full offense, just because I don't like you." He snarks and turns back to me, "We can't crucify her for who her father is."

In my mind, I know that's he's right. It's just this on top of her getting hurt by going behind my back just adds fuel to the fire of my subdued anger. My nostrils flare. I screw my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose, "Can you guys give me a moment alone with Peter?"

Allison places her hand on my chest, "Scott, don't do anything stupid." She whispers in my ear in some semblance of privacy though were both aware we have none, "You don't know the circumstances of their relationship. Don't give Malia a reason to hate you when she wakes up. I've been a bit of the receiving end, losing her trust sucks."

I run my nose through her hair with her standing a few inches shorter than me. I hear a car pull up in front of the house, it must be Kira and Theo.

"Keep them downstairs for a few minutes, please." I mumble to Stiles who salutes and him and Allison make their way to my bedroom door. My mom and Deaton follow suit, but my mom sends a warning glare Peter's way before moving.

He reads her hostility with a smile, "You know, Melissa. We never did go on that second date." He revels in her discomfort, smirking.

She smiles sweetly, "I don't date men in v-necks." She retorts with a bit of bite, waltzing out the door with her head held high. Her recoils at her jab, having the audacity to watch her teasingly as she leaves.

"She's tasty. You think you could put in a good word for me? I really would be interested in that second date."

I run up on him and shove him against the wall, making the dry-wall groan in protest. "Don't fucking look at my mother like that ever again." My eyes flash blood red, "Do you understand?" I threaten with a hiss, knocking his head back until I hear a crack.

"Such an angry boy you are, Scott. I don't know if I approve of the feelings you have for my daughter." He sneers mockingly.

"I guess it's a good thing I don't give a shit about your approval." I smirk, "Even better that Malia doesn't seem to give a shit about you. She's mentioned Henry by name, adoration clear in her voice. I wonder if that fondness extends over to you as well."

Peter's sneer turns bleak and he snarls, "I don't want you near my daughter."

"It's not up to you."

"You'd have to deal with me." He challenges.

"I don't mind protecting her from the likes of you. She deserves better than you."

He snaps, "You imbecile, you can ride high and mighty on your True Alpha bullshit title, but one thing will never change. You can't protect Malia from me, she is me. I'm a part of her. Remember that when you look into her eyes." He says in a crude, tantalizing murmur that's like a cheese grater in my ear.

I pull back my arm and sucker punch him in the side of the head, effectively knocking him out, "You're done talking."

I scoot him over with the toe of my boot and open the door. I can hear the commotion and the high-pitched shrieks of an unstable Kira ready to go bat-shit on Allison while Theo tries to calm her down. "What the fuck do you mean she died?!" Kira bellows in a deep-hollowed out voice that doesn't belong to her, but her Kitsune. Her eyes blaze a fiery orange and her whole body engulfs in a similar colored aura. "I'll burn this place to the ground, just watch me." She threatens menacingly.

I round the corner and she's on me like a bloodhound, "Where is she, Scott? She better be fine or I swear to god I will flay your body and skin you alive." Her voice vibrates eerily low with Theo on her tail. He tries to reign her in and he urges me to answer her with the bulging on his eyes, sending her a side-eye.

Theo steps in at my hesitation, "Just bring us to her, please." He speaks calmly and I nod at him in appreciation.

"She's upstairs in my room." I say, leading them up the stairs with a weak wave over my shoulder. "She's in a coma right now. My mom was able to revive her when her heart gave out. The infection worked her into a seizure which we're thinking escalated into a heart attack."

I step over Peter without a care in the world. Theo and Kira seem to do the same after they look him over only mildly concerned, "You guys called him?" Theo questions.

"Deaton did, actually. I just found out that he's Malia's father. Another thing she forgot to mention." I mutter still noticeably angry. My worrying has overshadowed most of my frustration, but the feeling is still there festering under the surface. I wonder when it will bubble over. I fear what I'll do when it does, not that I'm worried about hurting Malia. I'd never hurt her. Hurt myself by punching a hole in the wall? Definitely plausible.

"She didn't owe you an explanation." Kira bites out.

"Yeah she did, Kira." I fume, "Whether you like it or not, Malia and I are roommates and we've bonded. A connection has been formed. She told me about her mother and sister, so why couldn't she tell me about him?"

"Maybe she thought you'd react like a hothead, which you are. All you're doing is proving her right. Her caution was justified, she didn't know you well enough to just go spilling all her secrets just because you guys want to bone each other."

My face heats up at her admission, "I see your point." I sigh, "Look I don't want to fight. Go spend time with Malia, I know you guys must have been worried sick about her and I'm sorry I contributed to that. I just wanted to help her. I know we haven't known each other for as long as she's known you two, but she's important to me."

Kira's face softens and Theo puts his hand out in a peace offering for me to shake, "I can respect that."

Kira gives me one last look before her and Theo move around me and sit on my bed with each of them holding one of Malia's hands. I walk out of the room to give them some privacy, but I can't make myself stay far away for too long.

Allison distracts me with a warm cup of mint tea that she places in my hands. We sit on the stairs together just outside my bed room in silence. I'm the first to break it.

"You're unnerved, I can feel it. What's on your mind, Ally?"

Her cocoa eyes lift to meet mine, "I can't help thinking that this is all my fault. Maybe Theo and Kira's plan would have been better. Maybe she wouldn't of died. Maybe she wouldn't be in a coma right now." She lists off rampantly as her voice rises an octave. I place my hand on hers that shakes around her tea mug, "You're being too hard on yourself. You acted on instinct, you couldn't of known what would happen." I reason.

She shakes her head while setting down her mug, "What if she never wakes up and I don't get a chance to apologize? We we're making strides, Scott. You know Lydia is my best friend but something about Malia is so relatable. I see myself in her and her in me sometimes. I notice things about her that I envy: her strength, her unwavering fearlessness, her relentlessness. Whatever small friendship we formed, I don't want to lose that."

I bring her head to rest on my shoulder, "Neither of us are going to lose her. I won't let that happen."

"Kira ripped me a new asshole," She chuckles, "I probably shouldn't of started off by telling her that Malia died."

"Bad judgment call, Ally." I say through a tight-lipped jaw that offsets my crooked jaw, making it more pronounced.

"You like her." She states plainly and I just stare at her dumbly, "You like her a lot. You don't look at her the way a friend looks at another friend." She presses lightly, no trace of jealously in her tone.

I chuckle at her enthusiasm and nod my head, "I feel like I've known her for a long time and it's only been a little over a week. I can't put my finger on it, she's just so familiar." I sigh, "It's like my body knows her. My eyes find her in a crowd. She makes me laugh- a lot." I reminisce feeling my dimples peek out.

Allison listens eagerly with a delicate smile, "You should tell her how you feel."

I chuckle at that, "Seems like you and Malia think alike. She told me the same thing about you."

"She's oblivious then. I told her at the Wonder Woman premiere that you're over me, you just hadn't realized it yet. I think now you have." She ponders, giving me that look that use to make me weak in the knees.

I think about what she said before I rationalize it into words, "There will always be an echo of you. I will always feel something for you, you were my first love." I say easily, shyly. "But it's not the same kind of love as before. It's practical, easy, laid-back. Natural, but not all-consuming anymore. You were and still are one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I'll be stand by you if Isaac makes you happy."

She ducks her head, "You noticed that, huh?"

My face breaks into a nervous smile, "Not at first, but it came unavoidable. I was mad at first, but I realized how dumb that was. Malia told me it was okay to be upset, but I knew that I shouldn't be."

"I didn't want to hurt you." She says in explanation, knowing Isaac and I had become thick as thieves after he parted from Derek's pack.

"It's okay." I promise.

She wraps her arms around me in a hug, "We'll always be okay, Scott." She vows in her silvery voice. And I believe her.

Stiles rounds the corner, walking in at the end of our conversation. "I want to see Malia, everyone is hogging her and it's my turn." He complains lightly, moving up the stairs right between Allison and I. The two of us look at each other and follow him up the stairs, "I don't know if that's a good idea. Kira is a bit temperamental. Theo barely calmed her down earlier."

"I think I can handle an angry woman, Lydia's on my ass about something all the time." He rolls his eyes with unguarded bitterness.

He pushes through the door and trips over a still unconscious Peter Hale. "You just left him here?" He questions, rubbing his sore elbow that hit the ground first on his fall.

I shrug, "I was going to take him outside but trash pick-up doesn't come around until tomorrow."

"Oh burn!" Stiles laughs, holding his hand out for a fist-bump. I dab him back with a smirk, settling over on the bean bag that sits next to Theo.

"Could you two idiots shut up, I'm trying to put good omens out so Malia will wake up faster." Kira snaps, wafting burning sage all around my room and in close proximity to Malia. We all look at her like she's crazy except for Theo who waves off our curiosity, "She believes that she was a witch in another life. I'd just settle on bitch but she would take that as a compliment." He muses and Kira rolls her eyes affectionately. She blows out the sage and puts in back in her bag. Sitting back down, she takes Malia's hand in hers and kisses her knuckles as her eyes water, "We need you to come back to us." She whispers brokenly.

The rest of us stand by and watch, not one of us ever witnessing this softer side of Kira before.

LIAM POV:

Theo left a few hours ago and honestly, I already miss him. I walk campus alone like a little loner freshman. I see a taco stand up ahead and my stomach growls on command. Looks like tacos it is.

"Liam?" A hear a voice behind me. I turn and it's Noora from the LGBT club the other day.

"Hey Noora." I smile, "I'm just on my way to get a taco, you want to join me?"

She smiles brightly, "Sure, I'd love to."

We stand in line and make small talk until we reach the front, "Hi what will it be today?" The scruffy haired ginger behind the stand smiles a little too friendly. He looks me over with not-so-discreet interest, "I'm Andrew, by the way."

I mumble a shy hello and glance over at a smirking Noora, "Four crispy tacos, well done, with everything on them for me and the lady." I say, gesturing to Noora so he'd know I'm paying for both, "And can I get a few hot sauces to go with that?"

"You can get anything you want-"

"Liam." I supply less enthusiastically. I see this guy who is actually pretty attractive, a full red beard that makes him look older, but all I can think about is Theo. This guy's mediocre suave just isn't doing it for me.

"Here you go Liam." He says, handing me the tacos and intentionally grazing his thumb over my fingers. I hand him cash and he shakes his head, "It's on me."

"Thanks man." I smirk, turning to the nearest table and Noora follows behind me giggling the whole time.

"That guy wanted to hit it so bad." She continues her laughing fit, "He was really laying it on thick." She teases playfully in her deep, Norwegian accent. Did I forget to mention that she's a foreign exchange student?"

I chuckle at her cute laugh, handing her two of the tacos, "He's not my type."

She wiggles her eyebrows and flips her shoulder-length platinum blonde hair, "So what is your type? Tall, dark, and handsome all wrapped in a leather? Your boyfriend Theo is pretty sexy, I see why you weren't interested in that guy." She smiles jokingly through her red-painted lips. "I miss my boyfriend William back in Oslo. He's coming to visit soon."

I take a piece a huge bite out of my taco as an excuse not to comment. She takes the hint and digs into her food. We sit in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the crunching of our taco shells and the licking of sauces off our fingers. I wipe my mouth with a napkin and let out a belch. I quickly cover my mouth in apology and she just laughs.

"Hey Liam."

I turn and see Lydia making her way over, "Mind if I join you guys?"

"Not at all." Noora pipes up, scooting her books and backpack over for Lydia to sit.

Her strawberry blonde hair falls in a loose braid, "You look pretty, Lydia." I compliment and her face lights up, "Thanks." She smiles sweetly.

Noora moves around in her seat to get comfortable, "We're having a club meeting today if you want to come. Either of you. We love newcomers and hearing about others different experiences with love, hate, support, and prejudice they've dealt with."

I shift nervously, "Ugh- I don't think we can-"

"What club?" Lydia cuts me off.

Noora faces her before I can warn her, "The LGBT club. We have meetings every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Theo and Liam came by our stand the other day." She turns to me, "I was going to invite the lover boys then but they were kind of in a hurry." She giggles, her bright blue eyes lighting up in amusement.

Lydia side-eyes me with interest but doesn't say anything. "Can I get a flier?" She asks excitedly and Noora pulls out a colorful sheet from her backpack. Lydia scans the paper with intrigue. "I might drop by. I have some things I'd like to get off my chest." She admits and I give her a look to see where's she's going with this.

"Cool, I hope to see you guys there. I have some last minute activities I have to arrange for the meeting. We'll catch up later, it was nice to meet you, Lydia."

"Likewise, see you Noora." She waves and the perky blonde walks off in the opposite direction.

Lydia and I sit there eating the rest of our tacos and I'm grateful that she doesn't bring it up immediately. I know she's aching to talk about it so I finally just give into her lingering stares, "Theo and I are not a couple."

"But you want to be." She grins, "He's hot, what's the hesitation for?"

"You don't seem the least bit surprised by the idea of Theo and I."

"Gays have an affiliation for other gays. I've sensed it for a while now but I wanted to respect your privacy." She explains, chewing on her taco. She leans across the table and places her hand over mine to stop my nervous fidgeting, "I won't tell the others, so don't worry, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. I struggled with coming out and I still have my reservations sometimes and I think this club could help both of us. I can go with you if you want." She encourages, her sea-green eyes alight with support and sincerity.

I shake my head, "Thanks, but I don't think I'm ready." I say, chewing on my bottom lip. "I don't even know if I'm really gay or if it's just Theo."

Lydia cocks a brow, "I saw the way you used to check out Isaac when you thought no on was paying attention. I'm very observant and I notice things, more than anyone thinks I do. Especially Stiles. I swear sometimes I feel like he thinks I'm an idiot."

I fix her with a pointed look, "Stiles thinks you're anything but stupid. He's been in love with you since practically forever."

"He's not in love with me, he's in love with the idea of me. I don't want to be anyone's concept." She mutters, angrily stabbing at her rice with a fork.

"You know that's not true, he was the first person who realized just how smart you are."

"Besides Allison." She rolls her eyes. "He likes me and I like Kira. I don't want to feel obligated to return his feelings just because he's a nice guy."

"He's also you're best friend. I think you're fooling yourself if you think you have no feelings for him at all."

"I could say the same about Theo, The oblivious behavior goes both ways, Dunbar." She crosses her arms over her chest as she looks down at the table. "Stiles has always been there for me but I don't know if I can ever return his feelings."

"I guess that's your own personal mountain to climb. If you are into Kira, fine. Just don't play with Stiles' feelings in the process. If you aren't interested, tell him. Save him the pining."

"I think a part of me us just afraid to let him go. I need him in my life and I'm afraid that if I tell him, I'll lose him. He knows me almost better than anyone. Everyone except Allison."

"It's okay to care about them both." I assure her, squeezing her hand in comfort, "Thanks for offering to go with me. I'll let you know if I change my mind."

She smiles weakly, "I'm glad I ran into you, Liam."

She takes off and I start off back to my dorm. Without thinking, I whip out my phone and press the camera button next to Theo's contact info. The annoying beep rings a couple of times before he picks up and my screen is flooded with a face full of Theo.

His stormy eyes and light pink lips greet me cheekily and all I can think about is our hot makeout session in the woods. There might have been some butt fondling and some frisky cock rubbing, And maybe I gave him a blow job, you do the math.

"Pup." He grins sexily through the phone screen, "I'm missing that ass of yours already."

I blush underneath his gaze even with him hours away, "Can the others hear you?"

He chuckles, "No, they're all in the room with Malia. She's not doing too good." His voice lowers, "I'm not sure how long we're going to be here."

"What happened?"

"She's in a coma." He whispers depressingly.

"Theo… I'm so sorry. I know she's like family to you. Malia's strong, she'll get through this."

Even through the fuzzy screen I can see his eyes watering like a grey storm cloud threatening to pour, "I'll go out of my fucking mind if I lose her."

"You won't." I urge, "Scott won't let that happen."

"You seem to have a lot of faith in him."

"He took me under his wing and let me into their close-knit circle. I'm indebted to him but he never rubs that in my face. He's a humble guy with some mild anger issues. But he's loyal and trusting and he means what he says. So if he says he's going to do something about it, he will. He won't let Malia slip away."

He rubs his eyes, "I have to get back to Malia. I was just taking a quick breather, I didn't want to break down in front of her, even if she wouldn't know."

"Get some sleep, can't have your devilish good looks thwarted by some dark circles and stress wrinkles." I tease playfully which cheers him up, I give myself a mental high five.

"I kind of miss you, Liam."

"Show me how much you miss me when you get back."

"Are you going to have a stick up your ass if I do?"

"Depends" I tease, "Will it be your stick up my ass?"

His laughter vibrates through the phone when I hang up with a chuckle of my own.

SCOTT POV:

Everyone is scattered around the house, but it's just me with her now. I take a wet cloth and try to wash her the best I can while still maintaining her modesty.

Humming contently to Summer time because I know how much she likes it, I wash her legs and arms, her neck and face, and I lift her shirt and wash her stomach, focused on the task at hand. I have so much respect for her that nothing about this is even remotely sexual, purely vital for her well being. I wash her hair with a water basin and some shampoo and conditioner my mom let me borrow. I run my rough, long fingers through her hair and scratch her scalp to work in the soapy shampoo until it's clean. I run warm water over her head a few times until it's all gone and then apply conditioner, sliding it's lotion-type consistency through her wet hair. I finish off towel drying her hair and leave it there a while until it's just a little damp. The last thing she needs is to catch a cold. After, I brush through her hair with a comb Allison lent me. I continue to sing to myself, moving around wit a little pep in my step. I imagine that somehow she can feel me and she's chuckling internally, using this as blackmail for later.

Her heart monitor beeps at a steady rhythm yet her eyes remain shut. Her body doesn't move. I grab the hand closest to me and bring it to my lips, kissing each individual finger and running my calloused hands over her soft palms. "I miss you, Lia."

My admission is met with silence but I keep going. It's cathartic almost, having the boldness to speak without fear of her not feeling the same. "I know that we haven't known each other for very long. We argue and push each other's buttons, but you're pack. I'm not sure if you want to be, I figure I would of asked you eventually."

My head falls to her lap and tears prick at my eyes until they sting, "Malia, please wake up." I plead desperately. I sniffle and wipe my eyes with the back of my free hand and clasp it on top of hers with my other one encasing hers underneath, "I feel like I can talk to you about anything, even now. I like how I can be unfiltered around you." I smile, "I remember the first time I saw you when had you pressed up against the wall of the dorm upon our meeting. You were so fearless… your eyes stunned me into submission." I chuckle and draw lazy patterns in her skin with my thumb like it's ink from a tattoo gun, "I think even then I knew you would change my life. As much as a cluster fuck as it is right now, I think I was meant to know you. I can feel it in my bones."

I stand hunched over her and press my forehead against hers, "Lia, come home." I urge with achingly slow breaths, I lay a searing kiss to the place my head had been and trace the the contour of her lips like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

"Stiles misses you." I say bemused, "Allison, too."

I finally get what I've been wanting to say off my chest, "I know about Peter. I'm upset you didn't tell me but it's okay. I get why you didn't, I would have been wary of that too if he was my father. I'm sure he's made a lot of enemies. But he's here. He must care about you if he came. I mean, how could he not? You're you." I chuckle to myself, "I roughened your old man up a little bit. I would say I'm sorry, but you and I both know I wouldn't mean it." I chuckle jokingly.

I pause to collect my thoughts.

"I wonder what my mom's reaction will be when she finds out we're living together. She's already taken with you. I can tell she won't be happy about it, but I'm pretty sure you've already won her over." I muse, checking my phone for any missed calls from the pack or Braedan. "So if Peter's your father, I guess that makes Derek and Cora your cousins." I pause, thinking it over, "That actually makes perfect sense. Derek's grumpiness and Cora's wit. I wonder why I didn't come to that conclusion sooner." I joke lightly. "I was just kidding about that whole you dying thing meaning I'd have the room to myself. I'm clingy, I need someone to talk to before I go to sleep and when I wake up. Someone to make breakfast for in the morning before practice. And I guess someone to catch me masturbating." I chuckle, remembering that dreadful, unlucky moment. But I wouldn't change it though. I wouldn't change anything except for this. Her index finger twitches at the mention of masturbation.

"Oh you liked that, didn't you?" I tease, a crooked smile overtaking my features.

There's another twitch and her middle finger lifts weakly off the bed.

My grin is constant at this point and I full out laugh, "Even from deep down under, you still aren't putting up with any of my shit."

Another twitch, this time it's her big toe. A good sign. A pattern.

"You know you can't just leave me, right? What would I do without my voice of reason? Probably go off the deep end, pick a fight, and prove my dad right." I joke, "He'd love a good reason to tell me how I'm ruining my life being an artist. I should probably just forget passion and take a 9-5 desk job. Maybe life would work itself out that way."

Her hand tightens ever so slightly against mine.

"Nope, you don't agree with that, do you?"

I don't get another response so I continue, "You irk me sometimes, you know. I'd miss a lot of things about you if you were gone. Like the way you jump into things head first without a plan, how you defy me at every turn." I muse lightly, hoping to annoy her enough that she'll give me another sign, "Your ability to make me hard with just a look, how you walk around our room unsuspectingly cute." I tease, thinking of her mile long, creamy legs and how the first day I saw her I wanted my face between them immediately, her crushing me like a catacomb withering under her quivering thighs and the lustful looks I'd send her way. "How you pee with the door open just to frustrate me on purpose. You know how much that grosses me out." I chuckle fondly. "I can only imagine what it would be like when you're on your period." I joke and I'm rewarded with another sharp squeeze.

"Too much?" I murmur playfully. "You know I really don't care about that stuff. I've been living with just my mom for years, I'm used to it."

I fix the covers on the bed and fluff her pillow to make her more comfortable. I sit with her for a little while longer until I realize that I should probably stop hiding out up here with her and actually join the land of the living. No pun intended.

I'm still holding her hand and I swear I feel one of her fingers jump again.

I wait to see if anything else happens, but to my disappointment nothing does.

I imagine this must be what hopelessness feels like. The kind of hopelessness that reminds me of loneliness so profound that I can almost picture her standing right beside me. Her eyes carefree and a glossy brown, that earth-shattering smile on her face, and her golden-spun hair falling sultry and boldly down to her hips. And that's when I think that being without Malia feels empty, that girl who's made of liquid sunsets snubbed from the world. Maybe then I would dance with myself alone in my room with my arms outstretched around the ghost of a girl who would haunt my dreams every night. I'd pretend that it's her hands on my chest and my arms around her waist, her sienna eyes boring deeply into mine as we kiss like real people do.

"I'll always be waiting for you, Lia." I vow, feet firmly planted on the ground and my heart falling out of my butt. Just as I let go of her hand, I see a finger move. Then two. Then three, Then the whole hand.

Her brown eyes flutter open, easily adjusting to the dim light the candles I'd laid out cast the room in.

She looks at me the same way I'd imagined she would.

"Scott" She smiles lazily, her dark hued eyelids hooded as she lets out a yawn.

I stand there in awe for a moment before I rush over and pull her into a bone-crushing hug, "God, I thought I'd never get to hear your voice again."

My name is the first word that fell from her lips. My face is the first thing she saw when she woke up. My arms are the first to embrace her. My wolf growls in approval, it's restlessness satiated.

"I'm sorry I scared you." She whispers weakly, running her fingers through my hair as I practically lay in her lap on the bed. Her hands threading through my scalp makes me feel at ease. I sniff the air for reassurance and keep constant skin contact, afraid she'll disappear again.

"It's all okay now." I sigh, breathing in her vanilla scent, "You're safe, that's all that matters."

"I heard you."

"What?" I ask.

"I heard you talking to me. You kept calling to me. I just followed your voice. I knew I had to get back here for you- for all of you guys. And the girl that was murdered. You gave me strength, Scott. It's because of you that I'm here right now."

"I- I don't understand." I start confused, unsure.

She wets her dry lips, "It was in this white room, kind of like a metaphor for my conscious. I didn't know which way was up or down or if I was just dead, but hearing your voice… somehow I figured it out."

We're so close that our noses are almost touching. Her breathing sounds heavy in my ears. She's shaking so hard but she doesn't make a move to lean back. But she doesn't move an inch forward either. I take careful, curious movements. My fingers twitch at my side until I move it to firmly capture the space between her cheek and jaw in my hand, My thumb makes soft strokes across her cheek like a paintbrush careful maneuvering a canvas, and I can hear her audibly gulp. Our noses graze, tantalizing slow, the thrill of excitement innervating every part of my body in delicious tingles. Her lips hang just below mine and I close the distance, her smooth pink lips brushing mine timidly, testing the waters.

All Hell breaks loose.

Her hands grapple at the back of my neck as she pulls me closer, her hungry lips devouring me with slow, languid pulls of her teeth tugging on my bottom lip and the teasing lingering of her lips before she pulls away and comes back together again like tidal waves crashing together. I moan into her supple mouth and she scratches at the skin on the back of my neck. Reluctantly, I pull away with my forehead resting on hers as I catch my breath. We steal a glance at each other through our intertwined lashes and I feel all air leave my body. I'm looking at her, and she is so fucking beautiful.

Shit. I let the realization of what I'd just done sink in. I just made out with my fresh-out-of-a-coma, very real, probably very confused roommate. Shame washes over me, "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate." I start, taking a few steps back from the bed to catch my breath. I begin pacing around the room, tugging at my curls. "Fuck." I curse under my breath. I stop moving when I feel her eyes on me, unreadable as usual. So many mysteries inside those eyes that I can't seem to decode. "Malia… I'm so sorry. I shouldn't of done that."

She quirks a brow with a bemused smile like she's in on some secret I'm not apart of, "Did it look like I was complaining?"

"I got carried away, caught up in the moment. It didn't mean-"

"It didn't mean anything, is that what you were going to say, Scott?" She asks briskly, her expression flat and sunken.

"I just-" I run my fingers over my tired jaw, "Of course it meant something," I defend, "I just don't think it should happen again. At least while we're still roommates."

She nods her head, her mouth falling in a thin line, "Okay." She begins, short, brute, detached. "Friends, then?" She inquires, waiting for me to validate her.

Indecision weighs heavy on my shoulders. I nod stiffly and feel my body protest against my decision. Allison would be mad at me for pussying out, I know it. I'm mad at myself. I just don't want to lose her and what if being more than friends ruined everything? I'd rather have some of her and secretly wish for more than have nothing at all. "Friends." I whisper, already regretting my decision.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It's Braedan, maybe I really did miss a hall meeting.

I press the green button and start off, "Hey Brae-"

"No time for pleasantries, Scott." She says, sounding out of breath, "I can't explain everything right now but you have to get back to campus. It's Lydia and Liam, they've been attacked. They took Lydia and left Liam injured, I think it's some kind of warning."

"What warning?" I press, frantically throwing clothes in a bag as Malia looks on with uncertainty and helplessness.

She groans, seemingly in pain. "There were words written in blood on the brick wall of the alley where I found Liam. I'm thinking it's Lydia's blood."

"What did it say, Braedan!"

"Watch your pack."

Author's Note: I didn't get a lot of reviews last chapter so please leave a good critique, the feedback makes me want to update faster. A lot of stuff happened. Are you mad, sad, happy, relieved, scared? Let me know in the review box!