A/N: A big thank you to first and second voters, DarknessHitsMe and Guest Who (very punny, btw), for the votes on Amber's Winter Formal dress!

I don't own Teen Wolf. Shock Horror.


"You're not human, Amber. You never were. I can smell it."

I turned around, pulling Stiles with me quickly, but he slammed into me when I stopped short at the sight of a redheaded nurse, blocking the only other way out.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Visiting hours are over."

Stiles looked between the two of them, gaping and whining quietly, and I turned back to find the alpha still staring at me, his head still tilting in a considering way. "You're the one who… and he's the… oh, my god, I'm gonna die. We're gonna die." I heard a crack behind me, spun around to find Derek standing in front of the nurse, who was now crumpled on the floor.

"That's not nice. She's my nurse."

"She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people. Get out of the way," he ordered us, and we did so without question, backing up against the wall.

"You think I killed Laura on purpose? One of my own family?"

"This is your uncle Peter?" I demanded. "You guys need some serious family therapy or something." Derek ignored me, deciding instead to focus on his approaching alpha/supposed-to-be-comatose uncle. And by 'focus on', I mean 'get all glow-eyed, jump off the wall and attack'.

Keep in mind that, aside from the alpha going full animal, this was my first glimpse of a real life werewolf. And I was utterly terrified.

Derek launched himself at Peter, eyes a bright, electric blue and teeth big and sharp, and was instantly knocked aside by the burnt alpha, thrown against the wall. Stiles dragged me back and away from the fight as he slid down it, falling to the floor and struggling to move, and we crouched down behind a desk off to the side. From our position, we couldn't see any of what was happening, but could hear Derek's struggling. I think that kind of made it worse.

"My mind, my personality, were literally burned out of me. I was being driven by pure instinct."

"You want forgiveness?" I heard Derek ask, followed by more fight noises.

"I want understanding." A soft 'oomph' caught my attention, and I looked around the edge of the desk to see Derek soaring through the air and landing face down on the hard floor. He lifted his face, spitting out blood as Peter continued his monologue. It didn't look good for us. "Do you have any idea what it was like for me during those years? Slowly healing cell by cell. Even more slowly coming back to consciousness. Yes, becoming an alpha, taking that from Laura, pushed me over a plateau in the healing process. I can't help that."

Derek launched up from his spot on the floor, despite his bleeding nose and laboured breathing, swinging a few punches towards Peter's face and failing miserably. Peter avoided or blocked all of the swings and grabbed Derek's fist on the last one, and I swear I could hear the crunch even from where I was sat. Derek went down, crouching on the floor in pain. I'd had just about enough of this.

"I tried to tell you what was happening. I tried to warn you." I used Peter's distraction of explaining everything that had happened to turn to Stiles, who was busy scanning the place. Probably for a hasty exit.

"We need to help him," I whispered, shifting my face closer to his to talk as quietly as possible.

"What?!" he hissed, a shattering of glass somewhere around the corner causing us to cover our heads on instinct for a second. Once we were sure Peter's attention was still elsewhere, Stiles turned to me again, his face stunned. "Are you crazy?! Derek's a werewolf, and he's going down like a sack of shit out there. We're two measly humans… well," he quirked his head and shrugged, waving his hand around dismissively. "I'm a measly human and you're whatever the hell you are, according to the guy currently kicking Derek's ass. We don't stand a chance."

"We can't just leave them to it. He could kill him!"

"Then it's one less werewolf for us to deal with!"

"Stiles!"

"Amber!" At his immovable tone, I brought out the puppy eyes. From the way his face changed from 'no chance' to 'you've got to be kidding me' I'd say McCall brought them out on him a lot. Which wasn't good for me. "Listen, Derek's a big wolf, okay? He can take care of himself. That very same alpha over there once impaled Derek, impaled him, and still didn't die. He'll be okay." Stiles looked at me with wide, pleading eyes. He had a point. "We, however, won't be. We need to get out of here, and find Scott."

I contemplated it for a few more seconds, seriously disliking the fact that Stilinski was right, before slowly and dejectedly nodding my head. Stile nodded once back, sharp and quick, and turned back to where Derek had crawled off to, Peter following slowly behind. There was a bit of quiet murmuring coming from that general direction, and Stiles took that as enough of a distraction to grab my wrist and launch from his position on the floor to a full out sprint along the corridor, pulling me along with him.


"Dude, we have a huge problem."

"Trust me, I know."

"How… how do you know?" Stiles asked Scott, stepping closer to the bench he sat on in the boy's locker room.

"Derek and his favourite uncle stopped by to congratulate me on the great game."

Stiles gaped, stepping closer again to Scott and waving his arms around. "What… I don't… Derek's-"

"With Peter now. Which is just what we needed right now, right? The only were…" Scott lifted his head up, closing his mouth quickly and staring at me with wide eyes, as though just about to say something I wasn't supposed to hear, before scoffing quietly. "Not like there's any reason to stay quiet around you anymore, huh?" I shook my head.

"That's another thing," Stiles started again, eyes wide and waving his arms around some more as Scott turned to frown at his friend, waiting for him to explain. "According to our friendly neighbourhood Alpha, we've got something special on our hands!"

Scott's frown deepened as he shook his head. "What?"

"Her!" Stiles shouted back, pointing an accusing finger at me. I held my hands up innocently.

"In my defence, I ain't got a clue what he was talking about."

"She's not human, Scott," Stiles explained, sinking onto the bench beside his friend. Who is hopefully wearing something under that towel. "He said that her scent is different to a normal human's, something only an alpha would notice."

Scot turned a scrutinizing look my way, his face slightly scrunched up in concentration. "So what are you?"

I sighed. "That's all Stiles has been asking the entire ride here. I don't know." Stiles turned to Scott, looking for confirmation. Scott nodded.

"She's not lying."

I frowned. "How would you even…"

"Heartbeat," Scott answered, like he'd said it a million times.

"Right."

"Um… I'm gonna bring up the other thing that kinda confused me and that I really hoped wasn't true," Stiles interjected, pursing his lips, considering. "You remember that whole 'howling' thing, right Amber?"

"What howling thing?" Scott asked, looking between the two of us. Stiles raised his eyebrows at me and gestured with his hands that I explain, but, unfortunately, there was this one locker to my left that became so interesting to me right then that I couldn't answer. I heard Stiles huff.

"You remember that night at the video store? When the alpha killed the clerk and attacked Jackson inside?" Scott must have nodded, because Stiles continued. "Well, according to Peter, when he saw Amber… she howled at him." My heavy sigh at that comment bordered on a scoff, but both boys ignored it. "Well, not Amber exactly, but… part of her, maybe? He didn't really explain it very well."

"Amber?" Scott started, and I could see out of the corner of my eye as he slowly stood up, taking a small step closer to me. I pursed my lips.

"I don't know what he was talking about. I mean, do y'all really think a psychotic werewolf is a very trustworthy source for this kind of stuff?"

"Amber."

Scott's tone was not unlike the kind of tone you'd hear from a parent or a pet-owner, stern and authoritative. I huffed, closing my eyes for a long moment as I gathered the courage to spill my guts to two guys that, two months ago, I never would've been caught dead with.

"I didn't howl at anyone that night," I started, finally looking at them both, and as Scott raised an eyebrow and Stiles scoffed, I held up a hand, silently asking them to let me finish. "I didn't howl. But when I walked in and it… and he saw me, he started coming towards me, and then there was this noise, this howling. I don't know where or who it came from, but he made himself pretty scarce after he heard it."

Scott frowned at me. "But why would he think it was you?"

I swallowed. "Because it kinda sounded like it was coming from inside my own head. Like it was a part of me that was making that noise."

Scott nodded, his mouth hanging open as he looked over his shoulder to a gawping Stiles and then back to me. "That's…"

"That's not it," I interrupted. Better to get it all out know, I guess. "I think that has something to do with how I've been hearing things that haven't happened yet, and knowing when something's about to go horribly wrong, and the humming."

"What humming?" Scott asked.

Stiles answered for me, nodding. "The night at the school. After you left to try to find the janitor's body and his keys, while we were waiting, Amber started humming. She didn't realise she was doing it until we pointed it out, and none of us recognised the tune. Not even her."

"I heard it again tonight. Right before the alpha came along and oh-so-politely introduced himself to us."

"What the hell does that even mean?" Scott asked, looking almost desperate now. I shrugged, feeling pretty desperate myself.

"It just means something else to add to our list of things to do," Stiles sighed, standing up and running a hand over his face. "But right now, you need to get some clothes on," he said, pointing to Scott, before turning to nod his head at me, "and I need to get you home." I nodded, the three of us turning our respective ways before another thought came to mind that had my sucking in a breath between my teeth and spinning back around on my heel, my thumbnail between my teeth.

"Can all werewolves go so full-on animal, like the alpha can?"

Scott shook his head. "I can't do it, and I'm pretty sure Derek can't either." I nodded, biting my lip.

"What about the eyes? Are all werewolf eyes red?"

Scott shook his head again, his eyes narrowing as he cocked his head. "Mine are yellow. Derek's are blue." I nodded again, slowly.

"Well, in that case, I'm pretty sure Peter Hale has been stalking me."


Usually, my shift on a Saturday finishes at one, with a hanging of my apron, a caffé mocha – iced during the warmer months – and a farewell smile to my co-workers. This Saturday, however, two idiots came rushing in, ranting about my idiot of a best friend and their quest to find him, just as I finished serving a customer and shoved me out so quick that I barely had time to untie my apron, let alone get my mocha. Needless to say, I was not impressed.

"What do you mean; Mr Argent thinks Jackson is you? It really ain't that hard to tell the difference. For starters, Jackson's jawline is much more symmetrical."

Scott rolled his eyes. "I mean, he's thinks Jackson is the second beta."

"Why do you call everyone Mr?" Stiles questioned, narrowing his eyes at me in the rear-view mirror. "You called Derek Mr Hale the other day. I mean, really?"

"It's just respectful, Stilinski. I know that's a hard concept for y'all to grasp, but-"

"Could we save the sarcasm for later, please? Trying to sniff out a hunter and a douchebag here."

"That's my best friend you're talking about. See, this is where the 'respect' thing comes in."

Stiles scoffed, ignoring as Scott slumped back in his seat at our bickering. "I thought respect was something you earned," Stiles muttered. "The only thing Jackson's ever earned from us is a foot up his ass."

"Oh my god, you guys, could you just-"

"There!" I cut in, leaning between the two front seats to point out the window at the familiar Porsche and the two tall figures stood beside it. "He's there!" Stiles drove up beside them, braking sharp enough that we all leant forward in our seats with the momentum.

"Yo," Scott said, raising a hand through the open window in greeting.

"'Sup!" I rolled my eyes at Stiles' terrible attempt at 'casual', shoving my head forward and smiling at Jackson from beside Scott. I saw Jackson's shoulder's slump in what I would like to think was relief. We had come to save his ass, after all.

"Everything okay?" Scott asked, pointedly nodding his head in Jackson's direction.

"Hey, Scott. Amber," Mr Argent greeted us both, far too friendly for someone who'd shot Scott with a crossbow. "Your friend here was just having a little car trouble. We're just taking a look."

"Oh," Stiles smiled. I turned my head just to roll my eyes at him.

"There's a shop just down the street," Scott gestured with his thumb. "I'm sure they have a tow truck."

"Yeah, you wanna ride?" Stiles asked, and Scott opened the door. When Jackson didn't move, Stiles continued. "Hey, c'mon Jackson. You're way too pretty to be out here all by yourself."

Jackson didn't say a word, but nodded slightly and moved quickly over to Stiles' car, not even looking back to Mr Argent. Mr Argent, who, as Scott was getting out of the car to allow Jackson into the back, I saw reach into the trunk of Jackson's car and pull something out, slipping it into his pocket as he called out.

"Hey, boys. I'm sorry, and girl." He smiled at me through the window, one that seemed totally innocent and not at all like he'd screwed around with Jackson's car. They all turned back as Mr Argent opened the driver side door and reached in, turning on the car without a hitch. "Told you I knew a few things about cars." He left Jackson's car running as he made his way back to his own, sending a quick wave over to us as he got in and drove away. Stiles and I watched his car disappear around the corner through the windshield with our mouths open. What a dick.

"What, are you following me now?" Jackson accused Scott, his voice both angry and terrified. I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I climbed through the seats and out of the car through Scott's side. "And what the hell are you doing with these two morons?" Jackson demanded of me.

"We're the morons?!" Scott exclaimed, moving in closer to Jackson. "You're the freaking idiot. You almost gave away everything right there!"

"What are you talking about?" Jackson demanded.

"He thinks you're the second beta!"

"What?"

"He thinks you're me!" Scott shouted, stepping back and taking a swing at the Jeep with a grunt. I jumped at the noise, taking a step back and putting my hand to my mouth so I could bite at my nail.

"Dude, my Jeep…"

"I could hear your heart beating from a mile away. Literally! Now he thinks there's something wrong and now I have to keep an eye on you so he doesn't kill you too!" Scott clenched his fists, looking like he was going to hit Jackson, before turning away and raising a fist to the innocent Jeep again. Stiles pulled him back before he could.

"Okay, okay, okay. How about we just step away from Stiles' Jeep."

"You know, this is your problem, not mine. Okay, I didn't say anything, which means you're the one that's going to get me killed. Okay, this is your fault!" Jackson shouted, shoving at Scott, into the side of the Jeep. I slid in between the two of them, pushing Jackson back a few steps with a stern expression. He didn't look too happy about that.

"Can we stop hitting my Jeep?"

Scott pushed me to the side, hard enough to move me so he could shove Jackson back. I looked over to Stiles with a helpless whine, and he was already on his way to push between the two, a hand on each of their chests.

"Hey, no, alright, guys, stop." They seemed to calm down a little, the only sounds their harsh breaths, so he let go and took a step back. "Alright?"

"When they come after you, I won't be able to protect you," Scott said, voice desperate and almost pleading. He looked to me for a second, before turning his head to Stiles, looking grave. "I can't protect anyone."

"Why're you looking at me?"

"You know what? Now you have to do it. Get me what I want, and I will be fine protecting myself." I shut my eyes, breathing out heavily. So that's what Jackson wanted.

"No you won't! Just trust me," Scott begged. "All it does is make things worse."

"Oh yeah, really?" Jackson questioned. "You can hear anything you want and run faster than humanly possible. Sounds like a real hardship, McCall."

"Yeah. I can run really fast now. Except half the time I'm running away from people trying to kill me!" Jackson rolled his eyes, totally disbelieving. "And I can hear things, like my girlfriend telling people she doesn't trust me anymore right before breaking up with me. I'm not lying to you! It ruins your life."

"It ruined your life," Jackson corrected. "You had all the power in the world and you didn't know what to do with it. You know what it's actually like? It's like you turned sixteen and someone bought you a Porsche, when they should've started you out with a nice little Honda. Me?" Jackson leant in, lowering his voice to make his point. "I drive a Porsche." And with that last remark, Jackson turned around and strode back over to his Porsche, stopping as he got to the driver side door and noticed I hadn't followed him. He shook his head with raised eyebrows, as if asking me what I was doing. "Are you coming?"

And wasn't that just the perfect metaphor for the fork in the road of my life right now? Did I follow my oldest and best friend, the person I always stood by and supported, no matter what, down the dark and dangerous path of want and power and greed? Or did I let him walk it alone?

I wanted to stand up to him in that moment, to show him he was wrong, that he needed to listen to Scott. But I couldn't. It wasn't that I couldn't get the words out; it was that I couldn't even open my mouth. Over the last couple of weeks, Jackson had been getting more and more obsessed with Scott and everything surrounding him. It was consuming him; he wasn't my Jackson anymore. Jackson had always been my family away from family; he was my home, my safe place. We were there for each other, stuck by each other. Always. No matter what. And that wasn't true anymore.

I stared at him for a long moment, hoping something would happen. Maybe he'd change his mind and apologise to Scott, say he didn't want to be what he was anymore, that he was right. But he didn't. He just stared back, waiting expectantly for me to follow him down that path. So I shook my head, and said my first word since getting out of the Jeep. "No." He still didn't crack. Instead, I saw his face tighten, his jaw setting as he swung open his door and climbed in, speeding off without a look back.

How pathetic is it on a scale of one to ten that I was praying he'd turn around and come back?


Stiles pulled into a space in the parking lot outside the shop, since my car was still sat there waiting for me to drive it home. He turned the key and the rumbling of the engine died, slumping back in his seat and lolling his head to the side to stare at me for a second.

"You sure you're okay?" He asked, for the umpteenth time this minute.

"I'm fine," I answered, for the umpteenth time this minute.

Stiles huffed. "Amber, you just broke up with your best friend since… since when?"

"Since birth."

"Right, since birth. It's okay if you're not okay after something like that."

"Even if I weren't okay, Stiles, what makes you think I'd tell you that?"

"You don't have to tell me anything. I just want to make sure you know that you're allowed to be upset. Jackson's a dick, sure, but he's your di- wait. That came out wrong."

"I'm just gonna go," I muttered, nodding slowly at my own suggestion before opening the door and sliding out of the Jeep. Stiles' head hit the steering wheel at his unsuccessful attempt at comforting me. I laughed, just a short, quick breath through my nose, smiling a little as I swung my bag onto my shoulder. "Thanks, Stiles. For the ride and for making sure I'm okay. Despite how terrible and awkward it was."

Stiles smiled back sarcastically, not saying anything else as I slammed the door shut and got into my own car. He reversed out and took off down the road once I'd turned the car on, and I sat there for a second, deliberating running into the store to finally grab my caffé mocha, but the thought of getting out of the car and talking to someone else right now wasn't appealing enough for the mocha. Instead, I plugged my phone into the armrest, put on some music and reversed my own car out of its spot, making my way home with the music too loud to hear my own thoughts.

When I finally pulled into our drive and shut off the car, I heaved a sigh, grateful just to be home after the day I'd had. I sniffed, grabbing my phone and bag from the passenger side and climbing out, slamming the door shut after me. I'd only just made it up the porch steps when the door swung open, Josh standing on the other side with a bright smile on his face.

"Y'all are home late. We've got a surprise for you."

"Josh, I ain't really in the mood," I moaned as I dropped my keys into the bowl on the side table in the hall.

"Oh, you will be. It's in your room."

"Josh…"

"Just go!"

I huffed, stomping my way up the stairs with Josh following close behind. He pushed in front of me as we got to the top of the stairs, holding onto the doorknob, that smile still somehow in place. It was probably hurting his cheeks by now.

"Dad figured you'd been through a lot lately, what with that mountain lion attack at the video store, and Derek Hale trying to kill you at the school, and your therapy sessions, so we thought we'd get you something to cheer you up."

"We?" I heard Daddy ask from inside my room. "I. I bought the damn thing."

"Can we just get to it, please? The suspense is killing me," I mocked, tilting my head sarcastically at Josh.

"Yeah, yeah, let her in, Josh." Josh smiled again, bright and excited, and pushed the door open. He moved out of the way to let me in, and the first thing I saw was Daddy sat on my bedroom floor, legs crossed under him and a small, dark grey cushion beside him. The next thing I saw was the tiny ball of black fluff I saw in his lap. I wasn't entirely sure what it was. Not until I heard the smallest, quietest high-pitched meow that I've ever heard as Daddy grinned up at me. "It was Jackson's idea!"

I cried.


"He'll get over it, Am," Josh said quietly as he sat opposite me on my bed, legs laid out in front of him. I'd broke down in tears after seeing the kitten Jackson had suggested getting, and after years of having to deal with me crying without Mom, they both sprang into action. Dad sat me down on my bed with the little furball in my lap before running out to get as much junk food as three people could consume in a couple of hours so we could watch some 80s movies to cheer me up. Which meant Josh was left to get me to stop crying. "Eventually, McCall's newfound lacrosse abilities won't be so interesting, and Jackson will find something new to obsess over. A new hair product, or something." I snorted, which is not pretty when there's tears and snot everywhere.

"I know." I sniffed and wiped at my eyes, staring down at the kitten in my lap. "I just thought he was being a total dick this whole time, since Scott got co-captain, and there he was helping you guys get me something nice after all this shit."

"If it makes you feel any better, he thought of it a while ago. Just after you guys got trapped in the school and you had that meltdown."

"I did not have a meltdown!"

"Which means it was before McCall got co-captain," Josh continued, ignoring me with his 'sure you didn't' face. "Which means Jackson is still a dick, and you can still be mad at him for being a dick without feeling bad about that little thing."

"Hey! She ain't a thing. Though she does need a name," I pondered, idly stroking her dark fur as she stretched out over my legs. I stared down at her, pondering the typical cat names, when the weirdest thought popped into my head. Scott.

"What?" I looked up as Josh stared at me quizzically.

"What what?" I asked, not entirely sure what had just happened.

"I thought… did you just say 'Scott'?"

"I… don't know. Did I?"

"Yeah, I think so. It was quiet, but I'm pretty sure that's what you said." Josh hesitated for a second, frowning. "McCall?"

"I don't… Sorry, just ignore me. I, um, can you give me a second?" I asked Josh, who nodded in response, frown still pulling at his eyebrows. "I just need to call someone."

Josh stood up and slowly walked to the door. "Sure. I'll just go pick out a couple of movies."

I nodded, smiling in thanks, and waited until he'd pulled the door shut before grabbing my phone from my night stand and calling Scott. He picked up after the first ring.

"What's wrong?" I asked before he could say anything.

"How did you- never mind, we can talk about it later. My mom's out on a date with Peter."

"Wh- shit, seriously?"

"Would I really joke about something like that?"

"No, you're right, sorry. What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know what you can do. I'm gonna call Stiles, and I'm gonna try to find them but…"

"Well, I can help."

"Oh, I didn't realise you had super powers that allowed you to sniff out the alpha."

"Hilarious, McCall. I knew something was wrong, didn't I? I can try, at least."

Scott sighed. "Fine. But don't do anything stupid."

"Since when do I ever do anything stupid?"

"Since you started spending too much time with me and Stiles. I'm hanging up now. Call me if you find anything." The line went dead as Scott ended the call, and I lightly pushed the kitten from my lap and onto my bed, much to her dismay. I pulled my black boots back on and grabbed my bag before swinging open my door and rushing to the stair railing that looked down onto the living room below it. Josh was crouched beside the TV stand, a DVD in each hand.

"Hey, Josh?" I started as I made my way down the stairs quickly, hand on the end of the railing as I reached the last step. "Can you do me a favour and keep an eye on the cat for a minute? I kinda need to go do something."

Josh narrowed his eyes at me. "McCall?" I nodded. "Are you guys… like, dating or something?"

"What?! Ew, no, gross."

"Really? Because y'all have been hanging out a lot more recently, and now you're rushing off to be with him after whispering his name just a couple of minutes ago…" I closed my eyes on a sigh. He had a point. It did look weird.

"It's not like that, I promise. I just…" I sighed again, my shoulders slumping as I failed to come up with any reasonable excuse that Josh wouldn't see through in a second. That boy knows me too well. "You trust me, right?"

Josh rolled his eyes. "Duh." I nodded.

"Good. Because I can't really tell you what's going on right now. I will, as soon as I can, but right now…"

"You kinda need to go do something," Josh finished for me, smiling understandingly in that way he rarely does. I nodded, smiling back.

"Thank you," I murmured, hiking my bag up onto my shoulder. "She's in my room. Tell Daddy I'll be back soon." I turned around with one last grateful smile in Josh's direction and jogged to the front door, grabbing my keys from the bowl on the side table along the way, slamming it behind me before full on sprinting down the steps and to my car. I wrenched the door open and flopped down into the seat, turning the key in the ignition and starting up the car before my door had even shut behind me. I shot off down the driveway, not even sure which way I needed to turn once I hit the road, and my hands chose to turn right at the last second. It took me further along the preserve, so I instantly regretted that decision, but I figured if Scott and Stiles were out looking (or sniffing) too, then I could risk the longer drive.

It was dark and quiet out by this point, with no one but the local residents needing to pass through these roads, so no one was milling around the area and nothing caught my attention. So why did I have the overwhelming urge to pull over? And why was I actually doing it?

Once the car stopped, I turned it off and got out, wrapping my cardigan around me as I slammed the door shut behind me and locking it, pushing one of the key rings onto my finger so I didn't drop my keys in the dirt and lose them forever. I climbed the knoll that separated the road from the rest of the woods, and just started walking. I had no idea where I was going, or why I was going that way in the first place, but something was just pulling me. When you're walking somewhere you've been a hundred times before, and you're not paying any attention to where your feet are taking you because you know they're taking you in the right direction, just out of instinct or your memory. It was like that. Only I didn't know if I'd ever been to the place I was going. On account of the whole 'not knowing where I was going' thing.

Have you ever not had a clue where you were, yet not even felt the slightest bit lost? It's a weird sensation, let me tell you.

It wasn't until I'd looped back around to my old running track, much closer to my house than I had been at the car, that I realised where I was; the burnt remains of the Hale house. I stood, covered by the shadow of the trees, staring up at the old house wondering why the hell I'd showed up here, when I heard gunshots, and lots of them. They were coming from close by, just around the house, and I felt this harsh jolt of pain in my stomach, on the left side. I hissed, pressing a hand to it to try to subdue the pain, and I lifted my shirt, checking for any damage, but there was nothing there; no bruise, no bleeding. Not a scratch. I dropped my shirt and frowned, the pain gone and forgotten in my confusion, when the back door burst open and someone came sprinting out, hunched over and… bleeding?

The second I recognised the shaggy brown hair as Scott's I was running over to meet him, grabbing his face and pulling it up, forcing him to look at me.

"Scott?" He stared back at me, eyes wincing in pain and what I was pretty sure was black blood pooling in his mouth. "Hey, Scott, what happened?" He looked down at his hand, pressed tight against the side of his abdomen, where more black blood was soaking through his top, and oh, god, I so did not have the time or the brain capacity to worry about why his wound was smoking right now. At the sound of more insistent gunfire, I walked backwards with him into the trees, so we were a little more hidden. "Oh, god. Okay, um… What… what do I do?" Scott didn't respond, just doubled over, groaning. "Scott?" I grabbed at his arm, trying to pull it over my shoulders so I could help him walk, but instead he just toppled forward and landed in a heap on the floor, whining at the extra pain the fall caused him. Oh, god, I needed help.

"Jackson," Scott just about managed to ground out. I frowned.

"What about Jackson?"

"He was… inside…"

"What?" I gasped. Did that mean he was still in there? I looked up at the house, the gunfire only slightly subsided, and wondered if leaving Scott for a minute to run inside and find Jackson would be a good idea. I figured 'no' would be the correct answer, given the guns and the bullet wound. Scott leant over to spit up some of the blood in his mouth, and shook his head at me.

"He's not… He ran."

"He got out?" I sighed in relief as Scott nodded, closing my eyes for half a second before I realised we still had a very serious problem on our hands. And that was getting Scott the hell out of here. Stiles would take too long to get here, even if I called him right now and he sped the entire way. And then I realised how close I was to my own home. It was a terrible idea, but it was better than waiting around either for Scott to bleed out and die or to get caught by whoever shot him in the first place… and still die. "Scott? I need you to stay awake for me, okay?" He nodded, falling onto his back again and looking up at me. "I'm gonna make a run for my house, okay?" He groaned, and whether it was in pain or argument, I couldn't be sure. "I'm gonna get my Daddy, and we're gonna come back and get you." He shook his head, and yeah, he was definitely arguing with me. "It's the best plan we've got. I can make it there and back quicker on my own than if I were to take you with me, and my car's too far away… I can't drag you, Scott, so you need to stay here and wait for me, okay?" It wasn't until I had to sniff and wipe at my eyes that I realised I was crying. I swear, those two boys are making me weak. He shook his head again, trying and failing to get words out through all of the blood in his mouth, and I looked up at the house again as the gunfire died down some more, just the occasional shot and a lot of shouting from the group as they stared up at the house. If I was going to go, it had to be now. "I gotta go, Scott. You need to stay quiet, okay? And don't move."

He shook his head again, one of his hands reaching out to grab at me when I moved backwards, but I brushed him off and stood to a crouch, hoping the smaller I was, the less attention I'd draw to myself. I moved back into the trees some more before I started running, my years of running through woods and nature preserves allowing me to instinctively avoid the tree branches and stray roots. I gave the house and the group outside it a wide berth, staying well away from the commotion and speeding up as I passed them. I know; logically, I should have slowed down and watched my steps, but neither I nor Scott really had time for that. So, instead, I bolted, hoping that even if they heard me I'd be too quick for them to catch. I've won quite a few track competitions in my time, and around about now I was intensely glad that Coach had insisted I join the team when I'd moved here.

I heard a loud crack behind me, and I gasped and spun my head around to see this massive, shadowy figure looming behind me seconds before I felt the world give beneath my feet and everything went black.


I came back around what I think was just a few seconds later, because the only thing that had changed was, instead of staring at the dark form that had been behind me, I was staring up at the night sky from between the branches of the trees. It was blurry, but that was definitely what I was looking at. I heard shouting, muffled by the fog in my brain, and then the big scary thing that had been behind me turned into a big, not much less scary person, peering down at me with a confused sneer, like he wasn't sure if I disgusted him or not. I heard a more familiar voice then, though I'm not sure what was so familiar about it, and the guy moved, only to be replaced with a blurry face and blurry blonde curls. I blinked a couple of times, hard, trying to clear my head. And then the face of Kate Argent came into focus, and I sighed with relief. At least she wasn't a big scary man I didn't know. She smiled at me, and looking up at that smile, I wondered why anyone would ever think she was a bad person.

"Hey, sweetie. You hit your head?" I nodded, and she pouted, putting a hand around each of my arms and pulling me up. "C'mon, up you get. Let's get you off this dirty floor, hmm?" She hauled me up and put an arm around my shoulders when I wobbled, before directing me over to the big cars just outside the Hale house. Oh yeah. She must be with the people who were shooting at it. Who shot Scott. Oh, god, Scott.

I tried to turn around, back to where I'd left Scott, but Kate pushed me back, nodding at one of the guys by the cars, who opened one of the back doors, and sitting me down on the back seat. "I need-"

"You need to get some ice on that pretty little head of yours," she interrupted. Not exactly what I was going for, but it didn't exactly sound like a bad idea. "What were you doing running around here at this time? Anything could've happened to you." I narrowed my eyes at her.

"You mean like how you could've shot me?" Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea. Kate just smirked.

"You know, one day, that mouth of yours is going to get you in some serious trouble," she pursed her lips, looking down at me pensively. "How much do you know?" As she said that, I recalled someone else asking me that at a gas station not that long ago. So much had changed between then and now. Then, I didn't have a clue what Derek Hale had been talking about. Now, however…

"Enough."

Kate nodded, lips still pursed as she started pacing in front of me. "So you know all about Derek and his… problem."

"His werewolf problem? Yeah." Kate smiled, looking almost impressed.

"So if you're in the loop about the things that go bump in the night," Kate pondered, her arms crossed over her chest. "Why're you running around the woods, alone, in the dark? Trying to get to Grandma's house?"

After many years at the top of the high school food chain, I was smart enough to know when to play dumb. "My car broke down," I lied, not even hesitating. "I figured it would be quick enough to walk home, and then I heard the gunshots…"

"So we spooked you and you started running," Kate finished, nodding slowly. She smiled apologetically, tilting her head as she did. "Sorry, sweetie. Guess the concussion's on me."

I smiled up at her and let out a breath through my nose, like a laugh, and rubbed at the small bump on the back of my head. I heard a dampened howl then, as though it was coming from nearby, but… muffled, maybe. Like when your neighbour is having a party and the music is just loud enough for you to hear the base and barely anything else. I looked around me quickly, trying to locate the source, knowing somehow that it was Derek howling, and Kate frowned at me.

"Oh, sweetie, no," I frowned back, questioning, and she shook her head, looking almost disappointed. "Don't you feel bad for him; this is what his kind deserves. He's a monster. You know that, right?"

I shrugged. "He's a werewolf. That doesn't make him a monster."

Kate sighed, sounding utterly frustrated, like I'd failed her. "Sweetie, listen to me very carefully. They're all monsters. Every last one of them. No exceptions." I opened my mouth, but she held up a finger to cut me off. I'm pretty glad she did too, because I was totally just about to cause Scott a hell of a lot of trouble. "No exceptions," she repeated, and I must have still looked unconvinced, because she sighed again, running a hand through her hair. "I didn't want to have to do this," she breathed, but something about her told me she'd been looking forward to this moment. She opened the passenger door beside me, opening up the glove compartment and pulling out one of those manila files that the police usually use. I could see several paperclips and sheets of paper sticking out of the top from here, and Kate slammed the door shut before gesturing for me to scoot along the seat so she could sit beside me. I did, and she handed the folder to me after sitting down.

I stared down at it for a moment, not opening it. I'll admit it; I was scared of what I would find if I did open it. "What is this?" I asked instead.

"After you told me about you mom, about how she died… I did a little digging." I looked up from the folder to Kate's face, which was open and friendly. Honest to god, she looked like she was trying to help me. "I already had my suspicions, and some of the facts I found just didn't add up." She nodded at the folder in my lap, and I frowned back down at it before opening it up. For some strange and completely misplaced reason, I thought Kate might have had the foresight to remove the more gruesome photos from the folder. She hadn't, apparently. I quickly closed the folder again, closing my eyes to try to think of something else, anything else, other than the sight of my mother's blood splattered all over the inside of the car that she used to drive me to school in. Kate hissed. "I know, that was a low blow, but, sweetie, you needed to see it."

I scoffed, ignoring the tears in my eyes as I glared at Kate. "Why on God's earth would I ever need to see that?"

"Because you need to understand what they're capable of."

"What who are capable of?" I asked, already doubting everything I thought I knew about my mom's death.

"C'mon, sweetie. We both know you're not as stupid as you pretend to be." Kate reached a hand out and placed it over my shoulders, looking down at me with a soft, sad expression on her face. "There was never any animal attack. It wasn't a pack of wild animals that killed your mom."

"Yes, it was."

Kate shook her head. "No, it wasn't."

"They found claw marks, and animal hair. They found…" Wolf hair. I opened the folder again, ignoring all of the bloody photos and going straight for the test results and photos of the hair and claw marks they'd found.

Kate nodded beside me. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but it wasn't some random animal attack." I held a hand to my mouth, suddenly feeling lightheaded and nauseous and so very, very tired. I could feel my hand trembling against my mouth, and Kate took my other one in her hand so she could get my attention. I could barely make out her face through my tears, but she was there, and she looked how I felt. Bitter and enraged.

"Wolves didn't kill your mom, Amber," she whispered, finally saying aloud the words I both didn't want and desperately needed to hear. "Werewolves did."


A/N: Holy shit. Dun dun duuuuuuuuuuuunnnnn…

I don't think I was really planning for that to come out as soon as it did, but it just came out, so…

Don't forget, I'm pretty sure this will be my last chance to remind you about Amber's dress for the formal and the help I was hoping you guys could give me. I already have two votes, so if you have a favourite, be sure to let me know.

See you guys soon, and thanks for reading.