Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to Teen Wolf nor its characters. This piece of fiction is created purely out of love for the show and no profit will be made.

An Ye Harm None

Chapter 14 – Alone together

Saturday and thank the Great Mother, no school. Allison told me they set up security cameras and now her mother even questioned her about the calls to me. She said she used Lydia as an excuse, as I was her cousin, but that didn't ease my nerves. Her grandfather knew way too much for comfort and if there were anyone in Beacon Hills who knew of the Blairs, it would be him.

After my morning shift at Zig Zag, totally uneventful and ended at noon, I drove over to the animal clinic with a lump in my stomach unrelated to getting my stitches removed or anything of that category. This would be the first time Dr. Deaton and I were alone together.

"Good morning, Mistress Blair," he said as I walked in. I froze in my steps, taking in his benevolent smile and knew I looked like a scared rabbit.

"It's Miss actually, Doctor Deaton," I said, struggling to get the words out properly.

"Good. Good." He nodded to himself. "Come on back here, and we can get started," he said and I followed him back. "Now don't worry, these are brand new, sterilized equipment I'm using. My other patients are of a…different sort, as you're aware of, but if it's any comfort, this won't be my first with a human either."

"That is a comfort," I admitted and laid down at his instruction. He kept me distracted while he applied a sterile solution to loosen the crusted areas around the openings.

"You've used yarrow?" he asked and I nodded. The weird pulling sensation appeared, similar to getting your ears pierced the old-fashioned way with a needle. The first stitch was already out. "Clever girl."

It was over in a few minutes, and he cleaned the area, commenting how this was healing nicely indeed. Truth be told, he expected it to be a lot worse, after Scott told him most of what happened during the week. He asked if I had plans for the day.

"It's such a beautiful day. Spring is right around the corner, this is the perfect time to get a head start on your gardening," Dr. Deaton said as he followed me to the door.

"I'm not really into gardening," I admitted, a bit hesitant to talk too much to him.

"Maybe you should start?"

Nodding dumbly, without asking what he meant by that, I walked back to my car and drove to a grocery store. What did he want me to grow - yarrow or Wolf's bane?

So, Lydia was still pissed off at me and wouldn't return any texts, Scott and Stiles were grounded after Jackson filed a restraining order against them and Allison's granddad still asked weird questions. Now I was actually thankful Stiles held me out of the mess with Jackson, because by gods, did there not exist simpler, more legal means to keep him restrained?

Not only did it feel like I was back at square one, but like I landed on the negative side of the board. Sabrina tried calling me several more times after I hung up on her, but from the area code, she was still in Europe. I had at least a few days before I needed to start worrying about her showing up and dragging me back to Philly by my hair.

Right now we all seemed to agree on keeping the kanima's real identity from both the Argents and Derek's pack, but when Jackson himself didn't want to admit he turned into a scaled killing machine on some mystery person's demand, it would take a lot to pull it of. Yeah, that's right, Lydia translated the Archaic Latin – so proud of her – and apparently the kanima seeks a master, not a friend. So we needed to figure out whom that person was. Gods, what a mess.

My thoughts churned on as I distantly stopped at a supermarket to get supplies. There was an everlasting practical side of me that reminded me to eat, even in situations like these. We had practically no leads on the kanima master, except for its victims, but so far we-

"You're two dollars short."

"What?"

"You're two dollars short," the greasy haired guy at the register told me and pulled me out of my thoughts.

"W-what? No, I…hang on a second, I know I got it in here somewhere," I stuttered and fumbled around in my backpack while my cheeks burned of shame. I hadn't even thought to look at the prices of what I bought, and now I needed to put something back unless I found-

"I got it," a familiar voice said. No. No, no, no. Slowly, I looked up from my backpack, cheeks still ablaze.

Isaac. Of course it had to be Isaac. What was he doing here?

"Whatever, man. Hey, you want a receipt?"

I zipped the backpack close and started to stuff my groceries in a paper bag, moving at fast pace. It took a lot of effort, but I managed to keep myself from crying. Why did it have to be him? I would have preferred Erica to him at this point. My vision blurred, unshed tears threatening to fall. I refused to let them.

"I got it," Isaac repeated and took the bag from me. He sounded gentle now, like the first time I met him, but that didn't make this any less humiliating – or suspicious. I hesitated, but sniffled a "Thanks", bowing my head so I could cover my face with my hair.

"I'll walk you to your car."

I just nodded, not trusting myself to speak and let him put the bag in the back seat. "Thank you," I whispered, still not looking at him, but wrapped my arms around my body instead. How pathetic was I? Gods.

"I know what it's like," he said after a while. "After Mom left, well…her debts sucked up all our funding, we went through a rough patch until we got the cemetery business back up and running. It's not a good feeling."

Inside, I felt a rush of different emotions swelling up, threatening to burst the bubble. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know, I just – I just feel sor-"

"Gods, don't, Isaac – please, just …don't." I tried and I failed - salt, angry tears of humiliation flooded from my eyes. I raised my hand, pointed my finger at him. "I do not need you to feel sorry for me, okay?"

"I don't, I just…" he trailed off. "Cassie, I'm…"

Our positions were the same from the night he approached me at the Zig Zag parking lot. Me, with my back against the car, and him standing right in front of me, just like last time. Only, now he wasn't trying to intimidate me and I was crying my eyes out. I held a hand over my face, trying to stem the heavy flow of tears, drying them off as they appeared. I did not want him to see me like this, did now want to show weakness.

Isaac crossed and uncrossed his arms a few times, obviously uncomfortable in this situation. He seemed to reach some sort of decision, letting out a breath with a sigh. He put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me gently. "Hey."

I got pulled into him, my body turned limp. He wrapped his arms around me and I didn't have a choice, I let myself go for a minute, crying into his chest, spreading a dark stain. My fists were balled into the front of his shirt as I cried into it. His arms held me tight, tight to him and it felt like ages when all I could hear was his heartbeat. Strong, steady, right under my ear. He was at least 6' 2" and I didn't reach any taller than his chest. Suited me fine.

This felt right. In the middle of everything that felt so wrong: hiding things from Lydia, running away from my family, lying to the Sheriff, this was just right. I couldn't bring myself to care about his sudden personality-switches at the moment, this felt right. His chest moved as he sighed and put his head on the top of mine. He inhaled, deeply, and a tiny ripple went through his body.

"God, I smell you, Cassie, and it's like I'm losing my mind," he murmured into my hair. "I'm sorry." I smiled through my tears. When I first met him, he apologized for everything.

"Me too," I mumbled, although a bit unsure of what I apologized for. It just felt like the right thing to say. The wind rippled through the parking lot, having Isaac tuck me tighter to his chest. I smiled.

When the wind whispers from the West,

All hearts will find peace and rest

We could do with some peace and rest around here.

Another gust. It wasn't coming from the west, was it? It came from the north.

Heed the North winds' mighty gale,

Lock the door and trim the sail

He sniffed me. Just now, he sniffed me. Like Scott did, like the kanima did, like I'm pretty sure Derek would have if he got clos- oh no. No, Isaac, please. Was this all on Derek's order? To 'sniff me out'?

He must've noticed how I stiffened, because he let me go. It had felt good, I admit that, but now it dampened into an awkward chill.

"I-I have to go," I stuttered, looking everywhere but his face. Truth be told, I hadn't looked at his face the entire time. "I have some…um, gardening to tend to." Oh gods, that sounded like the worst excuse in history and it was actually kind of true. He had to know I was onto his game.

"Em, yeah, me too, I have to…go," he said, motioning with arms and fingers the direction he intended – away from me.

I didn't have to worry about revealing anything else because my mouth went on autopilot.

"This was – it was – we were – um," I rolled my eyes at myself and took a deep breath. "Thank you, for the, um, things." Without glancing in his direction, I twisted myself around and slipped inside the car.

"Bye!" I called in such a high tone of voice I didn't even think I could reach.

The tears were still close to my eyes, but I didn't even bother to get angry. What did I expect, anyway? That he cared?

I ignored my reflection for the time being – I rarely cried that hard and it always left me dehydrated with puffy cheeks and red blotches in my face. Lydia might be able to cry prettily or at least cover it up with make-up afterwards, but that was one of the skills I did not possess.

I glanced in the rear view mirror at the paper bag instead, sitting where Isaac put it. It felt ridiculous; I had not even bought anything more than the bare essentials. Most of my money went to gas. I had to face it – I was broke. Either I needed to pick up more shifts at Zig Zag, although how could I get the time when I ran after werewolves and walking snakes every other night, or I needed to call Sabrina. Right now, both felt equally impossible.

Inside the House, I put the carton of milk into the empty fridge, and stuffed the packs of ramen, a lump of bread and some chocolate spread into an equally empty cupboard. Distractions, I needed…distractions.

I wrapped a scarf around me and found some working gloves and took a look at the garden. Or overgrown forest, as I called it. So the weeds and some particularly resistant plants had spread too far in some cases, but underneath, several patches of herbs and useful flowers still persisted. The Californian winter could not have been hard, if these plants sprouted so early in spring. The Spring Equinox was still over a week away, coinciding with our birthdays.

My breath fogged in the cold march air as I huffed and puffed, clearing up the weed the best I could, made sure the most needy flowers had a chance to soak up some sun and before long, I dismissed the gloves and relished in the feeling of pure earth between my fingers. Therapeutic to say the least. Do not forget the old ways – the voice belonged to Aunt Persephone, the Botany teacher at the Academy. Pesticides, fertilizer… no harmful chemicals of any kind had any place in a healthy garden, they were just tools for the lazy, the out of tune with Mother Nature.

The whole day went by, and I found a cluster of nettles I decided to make soup of for dinner. If I wanted to stay here and help, I needed to prove my independence, at least to myself. I spent the evening doing something I hadn't done for a long time – reading my journal from the Academy.

For the last two years, ever since I got a phone with access to Internet and the freedom to visit the library with computers, my interest drifted further and further away from the teachings and closer to modern-day living. I daydreamt of graduating, living in my own apartment, with modern conveniences and normal conversations, wearing the clothes I liked, travelling where I wanted and staying away from conversations about sabbats or tea-leaves or séances.

Now I had made the plunge into the cold, harsh reality – several years before planned – and I needed the old ways more than ever, if only to protect myself and the ones I cared about. And right now, those included Lydia of course, but also Stiles, the Sheriff, Scott…maybe not Jackson, but I still felt an obligation to help him. No matter his less than savory personality, I doubted he wanted to turn into a homicidal snake and kill on someone else's bidding.

'The Rye Wolf'

Of course, the word 'wolf' caught my attention immediately. It was a random entry, between notes of the major deities and beings, and judging by the doodled flower border I had not paid much attention to this particular lesson.

'German synonym for werewolf is Roggenwolf, Rye wolf, folk name for ergot. Ally to the Rye/Corn Mother. Do not longer follow the old ways, origin unknown, ancient as Earth herself. Fought with berserkers under Odin. Varg. Werewolf-panic, France, 1500s. Celts. '

That was it. Nothing about the full moon, Wolf's bane, Alphas, Betas, Omegas, our immunity – nothing! Maybe I hadn't been the most diligent student, but I think I would have caught the mention of actual werewolves. I read the entry a few more times, checking the other pages if some notes might have drifted there, but that was it. Several notes on actual wolves, but nothing that might help me against fighting an Alpha if it ever came to that. With the stitches removed, my cuts ached a lot less, but I still felt it. I hope it never came to that.

Before I went to sleep, I thread three times around my sleeping bag, thinking about my nightmares and their connection to Lydia.

For thread the Circle thrice about,

To keep unwelcome spirits out

"Hi, is Stiles home?" I asked brightly as the Sheriff opened the door, obviously in the middle of buttoning his shirt up.

"Cassie," he greeted and I tried to widen my smile even further. "You know Stiles is grounded." Not a question, a stating of fact.

My face fell theatrically, "Oh. Well, it was just that we planned to study for the World History midterm tomorrow," I said, giving a sad nod for exaggeration. "I'm having trouble with the second Industrial revolution and Stiles said he could help me, but…Okay, see you later then."

I turned to leave, one foot already on the step below. The Sheriff sighed.

"Come on in, Cassie, he's upstairs." He opened the door further and I darted inside before he could change his mind. "I've got to get to work anyway." He didn't seem too happy about the fact. Shrugging on his jacket, he turned to call out, "I'm going out! See you tonight!"

"Okay!" came Stiles' sour reply. I trudged upstairs, but at least had the decency to knock before I barged into a teenage boy's room.

"What, did you forget to – oh, hey, Cassie," he said, dropping the angry tone the second he saw me. "How'd you get in?"

"Your dad let me in," I said lightly and went inside. It wasn't a complete lie, I needed help with the World History reviewing, but I also wanted to check on Stiles. Lydia might have given me the cold shoulder, but I wasn't about to let my friendship with Stiles suffer any further. "How's life?"

"Life? Life is – life is, you know, trying to find out who's controlling the kanima and having Dad angry with me for something I can't tell him and Lydia feeling left out because no one seems to have time to her anymore," he let out in a big rush and slumped down on his bed. I chose his computer chair.

"You talked to Lydia?" I asked. She hadn't returned any of my calls or many, many texts.

"Barely, right before Jackson broke out of the van when Scott and Allison were too busy hooking up in the car to notice he was gone," he mumbled darkly, staring right up to the ceiling.

"Would it have made a difference?" I wondered, because Kanima-Jackson kind of whooped Scott's ass the last time it went down between the two.

"Maybe not." Stiles kicked his feet a few times. "Lydia's still mad at me after I left her crying in the car the night we were attacked by the pool."

"At least she talked to you, I've called her insanely many times. We are talking stalker-amount right now. And I can't go to her house anymore, Mrs. Martin will have me flayed," I said, thinking of her threat of a restraining order.

Stiles sat up on his elbows. "Isn't she your aunt?"

Damn it, I let my mouth run off again. "She's not my biggest fan," I said lamely. He didn't pursue it further. "How is she?"

"As I said, feeling left out," he said with a sigh, collapsing back down again. "It's like she wants to tell us something, but doesn't because she's afraid of what we might think of her."

I smiled to myself. As if Lydia could say anything to diminish Stiles' perception of her.

"Do you think it's connected to Jackson?" I asked. She wasn't completely over him, that's for certain, but I doubted she knew anything about his new hobby as supernatural hitman.

"Not in the dangerous way, no," he mumbled. "She's probably stressed out because of her new status as the town-loony. You didn't know her before the attack, Cassie, she ran the school. If you ask me, no matter who she chose as a boyfriend was destined to become team captain, because I actually think Jackson wouldn't have stood a chance without her pushing him to it."

"That's one way to look at it," I said and let my gaze wander again. If the Council hadn't enforced the private schooling upon us, would I have had a room like this? Any color I wanted, the trophies, the comic books, the whole deal? "She still has friends."

Stiles turned his head to give me a deadpanned stare.

"Really shitty friends," I admitted. "But real ones. Why can't we just tell her? How bad could she possibly take it?"

Stiles went on to tell me about the time Lydia and Jackson stumbled upon an Alpha attack at some video store in January, how she went catatonic for a few days and only mumbled about 'mountain lions' whenever asked about it. Okay, so kind of bad then.

"Where's Lydia?" I asked Allison as we walked into the library after a depressing midterm in World History. We decided that it would seem even more suspicious if we stopped hanging out because of the cameras, but I had to be more discreet about my connection with Scott and Stiles. I kid you not, there were cameras everywhere – every corner, every room, even one in the bathroom that thankfully did not overlook the stalls.

"Counseling," Allison said and I cringed in sympathy. Lydia was not a fan of the sessions her mother made her attend. Allison handed me the tablet with the translations Lydia did during the weekend and I scanned it quickly.

"So it's supposed to be a werewolf?" I mumbled to myself, careful to ensure my face was turned away from the cameras. I wouldn't put it past the Argents to use lip reading to further breach our privacy. I was pretty sure those cameras were illegal now that I thought about it.

Allison didn't answer, just nodded her head discreetly against the bookcases Scott and Stiles stood between. We went to the next aisle, and I acted as a human shield for the camera, even though Allison was a few inches taller than me. She handed Scott the tablet. The conversation went by in hushed tones; each question answered just triggered ten more. Allison decided she would talk to Jackson, ask about his birth parents, but Stiles obviously wanted to ask Lydia.

"What about Danny?" I offered, because I really thought we should keep Lydia away from all of this – she would become even more suspicious if we kept asking weird questions about Jackson.

"What do you plan to offer him this time? I nearly got caught stealing his stupid fake ID back for him and that was just his price for telling about the stupid video," Stiles hissed. I shook my hair around, obviously the best protection for prying camera lenses, and tried to make it like Allison and I were having a conversation.

"It's worth a shot, maybe it's not even a big secret. Everyone knows Jackson is adopted," I said and the others relented. Allison and Jackson went through the whole 'If you get hurt I get hurt'-ordeal and I tried to keep myself from rolling their eyes. Nauseating or not, I kind of wanted what they got. Although, maybe not right in front of their two very single, very frustrated friends.

"If you're that worried, I'll go with her," I said. "So far, Jackson has nothing against me." Except that his kanima self kind of wanted to mate with me, I suppose that's actually the opposite.

"I'm not sure that's the best idea," Allison said, giving me an unsure look.

"I took down Isaac," I reminded her, without adding the taunting 'when you couldn't.'

"You have yet to disclose exactly how that went down, actually," Stiles interfered, pushing his entire face through the bookcase to glare at me.

Allison and I pushed him back automatically ("Ah, ow!") while we kept eye contact. She must have found something to her satisfaction, because she nodded. Or maybe she knew more than she let on. "Okay, but let me do the talking."

"Happily," I agreed and for the first time I felt some kind of kinship with this girl. Strong, powerful, female – everything I wanted to be.

"Okay, but if he does anything…" Scott still sounded unconvinced anyone should approach Jackson at all without him nearby.

"Like?" Allison asked, shifting around a bit so it didn't become so apparent we were talking to someone on the other side of the bookcase.

"Anything weird or bizarre or…anything-"

"Anything evil!" Stiles' head came through the bookcase again and we pushed him back, not too gently I might add.

"We can take care of ourselves," Allison said and I wanted to high-five her and go 'Hell yeah, sister' but felt we might not be quite there yet.

"We'll meet up after class, okay? He's got a free period then, we might be able to catch him alone," Allison asked as we went to our French lesson. With Isaac and Erica. Erica gave us a knowing smirk I chose to immediately ignore, but Isaac looked more thoughtful. I wonder if he heard some of our conversation from the hall. Stupid werewolf hearing.

Lydia must have done a number on Ms. Morrell, because she was stricter than usual and this time even Isaac and Erica kept their antics to themselves. Anxious about talking to Jackson, even seeing him, after finding about his alter-ego, my knee kept jumping up and down, like Stiles' did after we found Lydia in the woods. I barely noticed when Isaac glanced back at me, but had no way of controlling my scarlet-red blush that spread when I did. He did not smile, did not sneer, just gave me a sort of concerned look, before Ms. Morrell called him out for not paying attention and his head snapped back.

Urgh. One minute he's all bad boy cousin-killer, the next he's the concerned, sweet gravedigger boy, most likely on Derek's order. Like I didn't have enough on my plate already. I fiddled with my crystal pendant absently, and tried to concentrate on the French prepositions.

We found Jackson easily as he talked to Danny by his locker, and we tried to listen in. Jackson told Danny he was going to the locker room, something about needing a shower, for some reason.

"Go ahead," I said to Allison, planning to talk to Danny. "I'll catch up, don't go in before I get there."

She nodded and had the forethought to take of her ridiculous high heels before following him down the empty hallway. At least her echoes wouldn't give her away, but her actions betrayed she was as anxious as me about talking to him. So much for our brave words about taking care of ourselves.

"Hey, Danny Mahe- sorry, can't pronounce your last name," I called, but stumbled on the complicated vowels.

"Māhealani," he said easily and I just shrugged. "What's up?"

"Nothing, just wanted to check on you, haven't seen you much after the whole…um, jungle thing," I whispered the last part subtly. He gave a pleasant laugh.

"I'm fine, even cleared for lacrosse," he said and leaned against some random locker. It might be his, I didn't have a clue. "So, how do you feel about the new piece we're doing-"

"That's awesome, Danny," I interrupted, glancing around to see if any werewolf was within sight. Nope. "Listen, I wanted to ask you something. Something about Jackson."

He rolled his eyes and folded his arms. Gods, those muscles. "We still haven't fought or anything, if that's what you wanted to know."

"No, no, not at all. I just wondered, you don't happen to know anything about Jackson's parents? His birth parents, I mean."

His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Why indeed? I had not really thought it through.

"Eerhm, it's because of Lydia," I said the first thing I could think about.

"Are they back together or something? Weird, he didn't say anything. Look, Jackson doesn't really want anyone to know," he said, although he didn't look convinced I told him the truth. "Sorry, Cassie, but this time – if you want to know, ask him yourself."

Well, that's completely useless. I excused myself as quickly as possible and almost broke into a run to the boys' locker room. No Allison, but voices from inside, male and female. Damn it, she went without me! My fingers clutched automatically around the plastic bag of fairy dust, as I called it, I always kept in my pocket now. I had no idea if it would work against Jackson. I hoped I wouldn't need it.

"Allison?" I called; maybe whatever happening inside would stop if he thought someone would discover it. A loud crash, like someone slammed into a door with bare fists. Damn it! I barged inside and immediately went to cover my eyes. The door swung shut behind me. "Whoa, naked – naked Jackson!"

First naked boy I've ever seen and it's possessed Jackson? Great.

He left Allison hyperventilating by the door into Coach's office and stalked over to me. "Cassie," he purred. "Cassandra, the long lost cousin."

Did I mention how very, very naked he was? On instinct, I backed up, fumbling behind me for a door handle.

"What part do you play in this little charade?" he asked, just when I noticed I'd backed into the wall and not the door. I really had to stop doing that! "Hmm? Are you one of them too? A wolf, with claws," he dragged one of his own along my cheek, he was that close, "and fangs," his claws gently touched the lips I fought to keep from trembling, "or are you something," he left my face alone and instead caressed my neck, all the way back to where the kanima scratched me the other night, it felt like spiders crawling on my skin, "completely different? A friend?"

He leaned in and now his eyes shifted, from Jackson' steely blues to the kanima's slitted yellows. He whispered into my ear, "Like me?"

"Leave her alone, Jackson." Allison apparently came back to her senses when our positions reversed.

He turned his head to look at her with a disdainful smile, although he still kept me pinned to the wall. "What, are you going to do something about it?"

"Actually, I-"

She didn't get to finish before I took advantage of his lapse of attention. I put both hands on his shoulders and drove my knee up right into Jackson's quite unprotected gentler parts. A lot squishier than what I would have guessed. His eyes widened comically at me before he sank down to the floor with a wheeze. I met Allison's wide eyes, saw that she was in a fighting stance, prepared to rescue me.

"C-cassie?" Jackson asked from the floor, looking from me to Allison and back. We were both frozen in place. "Allison, w-what – what are you doing here?" Still clutching his private parts, although now it looked like he tried to cover it, he scrambled over to a pair of shorts and had one foot inside when the door slammed open.

Scott!

Oh shit, shit, shit-

"I-I'm fine, Scott! I'm fine!" Allison tried to call, but Scott only saw the half-dressed Jackson and went for the kill. "SCOTT!"

Scott grabbed hold of Jackson, threw him into the lockers, tearing down both them and the row behind. Jackson looked less hurt now than when I kneed him right in the huh-hums.

"I have a restraining order!" he seethed, muscles pulsing on his firm stomach. Why am I noticing these things right now, gods, Cassie, get a grip!

"Trust me," Scott said, undeterred. "I restrained myself."

Jackson sneered and went for Scott, displaying some supernatural strength himself when he threw Scott around like a rag doll. He flung Scott into the showers and Allison and I looked at each other. This went to hell faster than you could say 'broomstick.' The crashes continued.

"Scott!" Allison yelled again, probably thinking he was near killing Jackson, but when we jumbled to look it was Scott who got thrown into the wall so hard it cracked. Any harder and he would find himself in the courtyard instead. Jackson got up from the floor and stalked out, breathing hard and I reacted by dragging Allison away from them – some of us didn't have advanced healing!

Scott recouped quickly and jumped over the shower wall right into Jackson. They fought, sometimes too fast for my human reflexes to catch their movements, but I definitely noticed when Jackson slammed Scott into a sink and the water pipe burst. Shit, shit, shit! Who did we call for back up when it was Scott himself who needed it?

I grabbed hold of my fairy dust again, but dismissed it. Maybe, just maybe, it worked against Jackson, but Scott would definitely be incapacitated instantly. I didn't get the chance either, because Scott went flying through the door and out into the hallway. Jackson followed and brought his hands around Scott's throat to strangle him. Shit!

Someone in a leather jacket grabbed hold of Jackson, slammed him into the wal. Someone else took care of Scott as he got up and went right for Jackson's throat. I ran to the door - Erica held the half-naked Jackson, Isaac and Stiles worked together to keep Scott from attacking again. What were Isaac and Erica doing here?

Allison went straight for Scott, but I walked to stand between the two struggling guys , facing Jackson. I looked him in his eyes, praying this would work, and tried to cower him into submission. He stopped struggling, but that might be more Erica's accomplishment than mine.

"What the hell's going on?"

Or maybe Mr. Harris'. Could this get any worse?

"Hey! Enough!" he yelled and Scott shook off his restrainers to wipe at a bloody nose. "What do you idiots think you're doing? Jackson! Mr. McCall! Anyone want to explain themselves? Stilinski? Reyes?"

That guy from Bio, the photographer one, handed Mr. Harris a tablet for some reason. The tablet actually, the one with Lydia's translations on it, and Mr. Harris snatched it out of his hands and started to point around with it. "You and you…" Scott and Jackson. "Actually, all of you." The tablet went full circle, all eight of us. "Detention, three o'clock!"

Jackson breathed heavily, but smacked Erica away and stalked past us, his naked back glistening, into the crowded hallway. Still only wearing a pair of shorts, did I mention that? Everyone else glanced at each other, and Photography Guy shook his head, before he followed Jackson. I dared a glance at Scott, who still panted and probably struggled to keep his wolf in check in front of the cameras.

So much for keeping the kanima's identity a secret for Derek, I thought, looking at Isaac and Erica.

My adrenaline still roared.

I blinked to clear my head, but didn't succeed.

I gestured to Allison and me. "We totally had that," I said. Scott gave us an incredulous look, but Allison laughed shortly.

"Girl power?" she asked, the breathy kind of voice after being scared out of your life. At least she smiled.

"Hell yeah," I said, letting some Philly-accent peak through, and we did the weakest high fives in history, before collapsing into giggles. No one else said anything, while we leaned against the wall to catch our breath. My shoes got soaked through because of water still flowing from the broken sink.

I looked at Scott, managing a weak sentence between gasps. "But thanks though."

A/N: Another long chapter, hope it's not too long. Again, it's a bit play-by-play, but I try to only use the scenes I need. Eventually the plot will drift further from the main one, I promise.

Side-note: Over 100 followers! Wheee, you guys are awesome! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited or followed - means the world to me. If you feel like it, please let me know what you think of the story and then have a great weekend!

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