Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. Lyrics belong to Florence and the Machine.

A/N: It's Wednesday and I'm bored. Don't know why I keep feeling like I need to justify why I'm updating early. I feel like you don't care so long as I update…

I'm super glad everyone liked the kiss. It hopefully makes up for the fact that Derek won't be in this chapter… next chapter, yes. But not this one. Sorry!

Enjoy!

Big Empty Houses

By: Ginny

Seven devils all around you

Seven devils in your house

See I was dead when I woke up this morning

I'll be dead before the day is done

Before the day is done

Previously:

"He's in good hands?" she asked. The vet nodded and she sighed, "Then I'm going home. You think he'll be unconscious the rest of the night?" Once again, the response was a nod. "I'll come back tomorrow morning to check up on him…"

Halfway there, she remembered two things: she had told Wyatt she would explain things later and the nest of blankets would still be empty.

Maybe she should just never go home.

It was past midnight by the time she slinked into her bedroom window. Gingerly, her feet hit the floor and she breathed a sigh of relief. She was home. She was safe. And after all that had happened, she was glad for the little comforts in life. Her comfort did not last long.

"Is that blood?"

Paige fell into a crouched position and faced the threat. Her eyes found it immediately in the darkness – her brother.

He had been sitting on her bed, but when he saw her, he pushed himself up and crossed the room.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Instantly, she stood back up and readjusted her hoodie. "You scared me," she explained.

Wyatt held her gaze, not buying what she was selling. "Is that blood?" he repeated.

She glanced down at her clothes – when had she gotten blood on herself? And why hadn't she noticed? Blood, blood, blood. Scott! She remembered now. When Scott had been shot, Paige had tried to put pressure on it in some attempt to help the boy. And then she had been the one to carry him through the woods. Of course the blood would have ended up all over her.

"Miguel gets terrible nosebleeds," she muttered. Stiles had used that excuse once, because Derek had had blood on his shirt. It hurt to think about Derek.

"Miguel…? That guy you were seeing?" Wyatt grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Paige, what's going on? What happened? Why did you leave and what does Scott have to do with it?"

A thousand different excuses flew through her head. A million different stories slipped around her mind. She couldn't grab any of them, though. Did she tell him the truth? Did she lie through her teeth? If Peter had nearly had Jackson killed for knowing about the wolves, what would he do to the boy he had already threatened?

When Wyatt shook her a bit, she finally blurted out, "A friend needed help."

"A friend – Miguel?"

Slowly, something formed in her brain. "No, Stiles. I had left my wallet at Miguel's last night and I didn't realize it. I didn't want to go and face him so Stiles was going to go get it for me. He got in a car accident and ended up at the hospital – not, Beacon Hills hospital, the one in Miguel's town. Scott came to get me because… the cops found my wallet in the car. They recognized the last name and thought that Stiles had stolen it and were going to arrest him, so I needed to go clear that up. Miguel was there and we talked and then he got a nosebleed." Paige watched to see if Wyatt swallowed her explanation. Part of her was proud she had been able to come up with that story – another part of her felt ashamed that she was lying in the first place.

But he seemed to buy it. Up until he asked, "Why didn't Scott just come to the door? Coming through the window is a little weird… and sketchy."

"Scott is pretty weird," she shrugged. Then something occurred to her. "Did you tell mom and dad about Miguel?" she asked.

Wyatt just shook his head.

"Good," she breathed. Less explaining to do. At his raised highbrow, she knew she had to backtrack. "It's over. Officially, very much over and he is… gone." She didn't have to fake the way her voice shook when she said that. "You know how mom and dad get about dating and stuff and they would have invited him over for dinner and he really wasn't that kind of guy and so I didn't tell them and now it just, it doesn't matter. Because he's gone."

After a few moments, he pulled his big sister into a hug. "Want some ice cream? I mean, girls like that, don't they? Eating ice cream after a bad break-up?"

"I just kind of want to shower and go to bed," she muttered into his shoulder. "But thank you."

He pulled away and gave her a sharp nod. "I know this hasn't been a great year for you so far," he began. "And I know the move has been a lot harder on you than it's been for me. But just know, I'm always here for you."

A smiled tugged at her lips. "I know you are. And right back at you, baby bro."

Her alarm was buzzing right next to her ear but she couldn't be bothered to deal with it. Literally – why had she set her alarm? What had been the purpose of that? Didn't the world know that Paige Flanagan was destined to sleep in until kingdom come especially after the night she had had?

Oh. She was supposed to go check up on Scott.

Right.

Groaning, she rolled off her bed, trudged to her bathroom and then stuck her face under the running water of the shower. With a sigh, she washed up and got dressed in some jeans and a t-shirt – which was one step away from formal for her. Her hair was thrown back in a wet, messy ponytail. Then out the window she went.

If the vet was surprised to see her return, he didn't show it on his face.

"Is Scott still here?" Paige asked.

The vet nodded. "He's still asleep, if you'd like to visit him."

Paige had just followed him into the back room when Scott jumped up. Half a second later, he glanced at Paige and hopped off the table.

"Welcome back to the land of consciousness," the vet greeted, only for Scott to sway forward a little bit. "You doing okay?" he answered, steading him a bit. "Maybe you should sit down, huh?"

And then the bell to the front door gave a little jingle. Paige had thought they were closed.

"Hello?" the vet called. No one answered and he made towards the door. Worry written on his face, Scott put a hand on his arm to stop him but the vet just shot him a reassuring smile.

Then, he exited the room informing whoever was out there that he was sorry, but they were closed.

"Hi there," Peter's voice rang out. "I'm here to pick up."

"I'm not sure I remember you dropping off," the vet shot back amiably.

"These ones wandered in on their own."

"Even if they did, I'm afraid we can't help you. We're closed," the vet insisted. Scott backed up into the corner and then kneeled down. He tried to gesture for her to come hide with him. But Paige had other plans.

Plans that were probably stupid and incomplete and not even close to a good idea but… Peter was trying to kill the Argents and it was the Argents who had Derek. And if Peter was going to kill the Argents, he needed Derek, so he needed to find Derek. So… her best bet to help Derek was, unfortunately, to join Peter – at least for now. Not that Scott wouldn't be a good ally… but his main motivation was keeping Allison safe and right now that wasn't the most important thing in the world – not when they were probably torturing the daylights out of Derek at that very moment.

"Well, I think you can make an exception this one time," Peter was continuing to argue.

Paige tuned the conversation out as she looked at Scott. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You have something of mine," Peter was saying.

And just like that, Paige stepped into the room. Her skin squirmed as the alpha smiled at the sight, but she still stepped past the vet. "Thank you for the hospitality," she said, remembering her manners.

"Are you sure?" he asked her.

"Yes," she nodded. "I need him," she said simply.

Peter reached out to hold the counter's swinging door open for the girl and suddenly recoiled. "Mountain ash," he growled. "How old school."

Hesitantly, Paige held her own hand out but was able to touch the door just fine. And then, she was on the other side of the counter, right next to the alpha. Peter reached out and clasped her shoulder. "I'm so proud of you," he cooed.

"I'm not doing it for you," she snapped.

"Oh, I know." His hand tightened on her shoulder and she felt her bones shift. A yelp escaped her mouth but she grit her teeth and decided that she would do whatever she needed for Derek.

She just didn't yet know what that meant.

They got coffee.

Paige kept digging her left heel into the toes of her right foot under the table to remind herself that this was real. She was sitting opposite of the big bad alpha, who was gingerly sipping his cup of coffee. Her cup of Earl Grey had already gone cold. Peter was calm. Peter was enjoying this. She knew that Jackson had loved to watch her blush. Peter loved to watch her squirm.

"I was so glad to find that coffee hadn't changed much," he commented lightly. "Of course, that Starbucks place still baffles me. Cappuccinos, Frappuccino's, soy milk, venti – who knows what any of those mean?"

"A Cappuccino has espresso, hot milk, and steamed-milk foam," Paige explained emotionlessly. "Frappuccino is an iced coffee, trademarked by Starbucks. Soy milk is the alternative for lactose intolerant individuals and venti comes from the Italian word for the number twenty. It's the smallest standard size Starbuck sells."

"Ah," Peter took another sip of his coffee. "You're a smart one… Good, because it seems Scott is truly the embodiment of a dumb jock. And even though Derek has a pretty smart head on his shoulders, he sometimes doesn't use it. Or sometimes he uses his… other head."

Paige felt her eyebrows come together in confusion. "I have no idea what that means," she muttered.

The alpha observed her for a bit with a little knowing smile on his face. "No…" he purred. "I suppose you wouldn't."

Her pulse picked up because she was certain he was enjoying his own little joke and she wasn't in on it. She pushed her cup of tea even farther away from her. "So, what's the plan?"

He frowned, but said nothing.

"… You don't have a plan, do you?" she finally inquired.

"When the Argents were here six years ago, we didn't pay them much thought," he explained. She could tell it pained him to talk about the past, but she felt no sympathy. Not in the way she felt sympathetic after bringing up Derek's past. "We were a peaceful group. A family. There are certainly packs out there made up of strangers who come together for a common goal, but we were just… a big family who happened to have some members turn into werewolves during the full moon. The hunters have a code – they don't hunt wolves unless they are adults and they have proof that that wolf spilled human blood.

"We had no one in our pack who would even think about hurting anyone. We didn't think we were even on the Argent's radar. So when the fire hit…" he trailed off. "We didn't track them, trail them. We didn't know what kind of hideouts they had secured here. So, I still don't know."

"You can't track his scent?" Paige asked. That was the logical answer.

"The hunters have a special spray," he expounded. "They spray it on themselves so that they can sneak up on their prey. They spray it on the wolf to nullify their scent. They spray it on the ground and suddenly it's like the wolf never existed – at least, as far as their scent is concerned."

Paige twisted at the end of her t-shirt. "If it's an Argent you're looking for, we should follow the Argents."

"If we had more wolves, we could track them adequately," Peter slammed his cup down. "Unfortunately, Derek is captured and Scott is making goo-goo eyes at Argent's daughter and so I'm stuck with just you. They won't be stupid enough to lead us right to him."

"Well, at the very least, their leader has to visit Derek…"

"But even that is up for debate," he said. At her confused look, he explained, "Chris Argent, little Allison's father, is the official leader. Technically, his sister Kate Argent should defer to him because he's older. But she has her own group of hunters that answer only to her. And she… She is distinctly a wild card. A loose canon." When he shot her a predatory smile, he revealed his fangs. "She was the one who set the fire. Did you know that?"

She shook her head.

"Oh yes… You found out about the necklace, right?" He didn't wait for her response. "That chemistry teacher, Harris, he was seduced by her. He told her how to light that fire and make it last. All he could remember about her was her necklace… the same one she gave to Allison."

"If you know it's her, why don't you just kill her?"

Peter shot her a grin. "Oh, I tried once. Mostly, to toy with her. I don't want to just kill her, Paige. I want her to suffer. I want to dismantle the family she holds so dear and watch her cry out in agony."

For a moment, Paige opened her mouth to argue. She wanted to remind him that that would be no better than what the Argent's had done to the Hales and that Allison had been too young to be involved at all and was innocent. But she knew he was crazy. And she knew better than to argue with a crazy person.

"So, you don't have a plan," she began. "How about a first step?"

"Well, if you're done with your tea, we're going shopping."

"Shopping?"

"Shopping."

The idea of shopping with the big bad crazy alpha seemed rather unsavory. Until Paige realized that his idea of shopping was to kinda, sorta, stalk Allison. Whether it was to instigate Scott into joining them or to anger the Argents, well… that was unclear. All Paige knew, was that at the very least the girls would think she looked familiar. At the most, they'd realize that she was related to Wyatt Flanagan – the boy on the same lacrosse team as their ex-boyfriends.

So, she steered pretty clear, lest she be labeled a creep.

"I'm not going to stand here and watch them shop," Paige informed Peter as they trailed Lydia and Allison into a Macy's.

"Then go shopping," Peter suggested. "You're a girl. You're supposed to like things like that. And," he trailed off glancing at her current attire. "You could really use some new clothes. All you seem to wear are those stupid sweats. You're giving wolves everywhere a bad name."

Frowning, she stomped off.

And… into a section that looked promising. Almost immediately a leather jacket caught her eye. Of course… hadn't she been thinking about changing her wardrobe? Was it finally time?

Fingering the zipper of the jacket, she made up her mind and slipped it off the hanger and onto her body. Turning to the nearest mirror, she looked at herself. Her hair was horrendous as it was, but she felt fierce. Now, this was what a she-wolf wore. But… maybe not with the sweatpants. Paige yanked her hair out of its ponytail and shook it a bit. Well, that was an improvement. Then, she grabbed a few pairs of jeans and shirts and headed to the dressing room.

Paige Flanagan was going to give herself a makeover.

Yup.

And maybe afterward, she wouldn't feel like such a poser.

Hands full of her purchases, and with the vague realization that her mother would probably be so happy her daughter finally cared about what she looked like, Paige went in search of Peter.

Only to find him speaking to Allison. Oh, no, no, no, that was not the plan.

"Watch her a bit," he had said. "See what's she up to…" Which, as far as Paige was concerned, did not involve actually talking to the girl.

Without waiting to hear what the conversation was about, she slid right up to them. "Uncle Peter!" she exclaimed. "I picked out some outfits I thought my mom would like for her birthday. We can go, I know how bored you are when I drag you shopping…"

The look Peter gave her might have been capable of curdling cheese. But a smile eventually stretched across his face. "Paige, dearest, have you met…um?" he turned to the girl.

"Allison," she gave him.

"Yes, Allison. She goes to Beacon Hills also."

Before Paige could even open her mouth, Allison spoke up. "You sit with Stiles and Scott sometimes at lunch, right?"

"Um… yes!" Paige gave the girl a shy smile. "You're Scott's ex-girlfriend."

And then the speaker interrupted them. "Attention shoppers, the owner of a blue Mazda…"

"Did she just say blue Mazda?" Allison asked, mostly to herself. "Oh! That's my car!" And away she sprinted.

Once she was out of earshot, Peter scoffed, "Scott," by way of explaining what had just happened to Paige. "I have got to say, Scott, I continue to be impressed by you ingenuity. Just remember, you can't be there all of the time."

Paige glared at Peter as they left the store, but he paid her no mind.

"What did you buy?" he asked as they reached her car.

"None of your business," she snapped. And then she stalked off, hopped in her car and drove off. She hadn't thought to ask about the second step of the plan, but she was wholeheartedly not ready to deal with it. Especially if it involved hurting someone. She had promised herself that she would do whatever it took to help Derek. But could she live with herself if that involved bringing harm to another human being? Was she still considered another human being?

The next morning was interesting for two reasons.

One, she had promised herself she would style her hair into something other than a ponytail and she had vastly underestimated the time it took to blow-dry and straighten her hair. After skipping breakfast in pursuit of perfect hair, she realized how all the pretty girls stayed thin.

Two, she had a new wardrobe to choose from. And that was intimidating. And she didn't want people to think she was trying too hard. And she wanted to feel effortless and beautiful and powerful.

She settled on a pair of dark wash, hole-infested skinny jeans, sleek combat boots (which were apparently in style), a dark blue tank top and her new leather jacket. With her hair down and straighten, she looked like a totally different person – even as she slid a plain black headband into place to hold her hair back from her eyes. It was weird, but then reminded herself that at least her bra and underwear were still relatively innocent looking.

Neither her mother nor Wyatt commented, but she could tell that they were wondering what had happened to her. And while she was glad her family hadn't made a big deal out of her transformation, she was still worried about the other kids at school. So, she slid some sweats into her backpack just in case she had to change.

And she had every right to be worried.

They stared. That was the worst part of the whole thing – up and down the hallway, everyone looked at her. Their expressions differed. The conversations she overheard differed. Some thought she was just a poser. Others thought she had some formal event after school. One random dude thought she had joined a gang.

"Well, in a manner of speaking," she muttered to herself as she took a seat in her second period class.

History was always full of ass-wipes and today was no exception. Glancing around though, Paige realized she wasn't being totally honest. One boy in the front row was pretty sweet and the girl in the row next to Paige was also pretty quiet.

"What is up with your outfit?" some douche asked.

It took Paige a moment to realize he was addressing her. She floundered a bit before simply saying, "I w-went shopping."

"At where? The Badass outlet?" the douche's friend teased.

"What do you think you're wearing? God," the douche reached out to pull on the zipper of her jacket. "You look like such a wannabe."

She didn't think. About anything. But mostly she didn't think about reaching her hand out and grabbing the douchebags wrist and wrenching the appendage away from her and smashing it down onto her desk so hard she heard it pop.

Hopefully it wasn't broken. Either way, the douche yelped and he and his friend backed the fuck off and Paige didn't even have to open her mouth and waste her breath.

The class passed with relative normalcy, except for the douche occasionally flexing his wrist and wincing. When the bell rang, Paige stood up like her ass was on fire, because she really just wanted this day to be over.

"I think you look really nice," came a soft voice.

When Paige turned to find the voice, she discovered the quiet girl she sat next to looking at her with a small, quivering smile. She couldn't help smiling back. "Thank you," she said very sincerely. "With the day I've already had and probably will continue to have, it means a lot." She held out her hand, having been trained by her parents in proper manners. "I'm Paige Flanagan," she introduced.

"Erica Reyes," she slid her hand into Paige's but didn't grip it very tightly. Her golden blonde hair was pulled back in the kind of ponytail Paige had always been famous for and her ill-fitting clothes hung off her body.

As the girl walked out of the class, Paige watched her go. She couldn't help but think that once upon a time that had been her, in a sense.

Preview:

A howl sounded. To anyone else, it would have simply sounded like a wolf in the distance. But instinct told her exactly who it was: Scott. Why would he have any reason to howl like that? The last she left him, he was dancing the night away with the love of his life.

And then there was another howl.

Paige was gone in an instant.

They can keep me out

'Til I tear the walls

'Til I save your heart

And to take your soul

For what has been done

Can it be undone?

In the evil's heart

In the evil's soul