Chapter Eighteen: Twilight Melodrama
Alex fell easily into the last memory she had of Stiles.
It had been similar to the meeting today which explained the all too familiar feeling of unease that had come over her when she'd seen his face. It had occurred only a few weeks after Sumer break had started.
Alex and Derek had fallen into a surprisingly easy routine and it hadn't taken them very long to establish it. The argumentative nature of their relationship hadn't stopped - if anything it had gotten more intense. However, the usual malice behind their words had softened substantially. To any outsider it would have looked exactly the same, but anyone who knew them could tell that something had shifted between them.
There was a certain camaraderie that came with being in the same space as someone else. Alex had come to realize, living in the same space as Derek, that he never really slept and he was rarely ever at the loft he had obviously paid an exuberant amount of money for. He spent his nights and days doing whatever middle-aged werewolves did in their abundance of free time.
Every morning, Alex woke up, and very carefully padded down the spiral stairs in her sock feet while wiping the sleep from her eyes. She did so cautiously, because the absolute last thing she needed was to fall down the precariously placed and winding staircase because she didn't have her wits about her in the morning.
When she arrived bleary eyed in the kitchen she would pour herself a generous cup of coffee from the pot Derek somehow managed to magically make every morning. It was the only sign that he ever returned to the loft after she retired to her bed for the night.
Alex would then drink her coffee and work on her summer reading list as the sun blazed into the loft through the large windows she'd quickly come to love. Derek would walk in the door, eye her and whatever she was reading that day and say the same thing he said every morning.
"Do you ever wear a shirt?"
Her black sports bra and legging combo were staples in her wardrobe - that, plus the fact she had little else to wear. She'd come here with nothing more than a forgotten grey hoodie and a bag full of weapons she polished and sharpened nearly every night.
Alex would quip back, a different comment every morning. That day, she'd smirked mischievously and said, "Why? Does my body make you uncomfortable?"
He'd grumble unintelligibly and wordlessly they would lace up their running shoes and head out for their daily ten kilometre run.
Running with Derek was fun - hard as hell, but she really enjoyed it. He pushed her to her limits and challenged her in way that her father never could. Derek's stamina was unmatched, being a werewolf held certain perks, but she always managed to hold her own and impress Derek with her determination and skill. He'd never praised her out loud but she'd come to understand the range of facial expressions he worked exclusively with.
It had been Alex's idea to start training together - without her fathers training schedule she was beginning to feel out of shape and purposeless. She'd been determined to train with Derek and eventually he'd relented. He was the most motivated person she'd met since moving to Beacon Hill's and she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She needed to take advantage of the fact he could train with her like her father use to. Being out of shape wasn't something she could wrap her head around and when she'd moved into the loft she'd found herself without a sparring partner.
They had the same routine every morning and although he never expressed how much he liked it, she knew he did. She never expressed it either, but it kept them both sane and they had that in common.
When they were finished they sprinted up the stairs to the loft, pushing and shoving each other aggressively, yet playfully in order to beat each other to the fridge for a water bottle.
They would do a few intense sets of; push-ups, crunches, chin ups and squats before beginning their sparring session. They would only be at it for a few weeks at that point, but they moved well with each other and learned well from each other.
Alex found their intensive work out regime helped with the night terrors she still experienced.
Though, she'd only had one in the last few weeks of living at the loft with Derek. She'd woken herself with her own muffled scream and a fierce pain flashing down her arms. She'd dragged her ragged nails down the flesh of her arms, carving in deep grooves that bled profusely. The sheets had been soaked with red and her eyes flew open when she registered that Derek was standing in her doorway, watching her cautiously.
The smell of blood had caught his attention from downstairs.
Alex had tried to stand up from the bed, thinking of anything she could say to explain why it looked like she'd murdered someone in here but when she looked back up to the doorway - Derek was gone.
They hadn't spoken about it, but the next morning there were clean sheets folded neatly on her dresser.
The sparring match in the kitchen continued. Derek landed a few blows and was subjected to a few of hers as well. They backed away from each other, circling one another in a tense standoff.
"You know," He said, "This is the pivotal attack point. You're exhausted and weak. There are no breaks in the real world." He flashed his red Alpha eyes at her and bared his canines.
"Believe me," Alex heaved, unholstering two recently sharpened ring daggers. "I know."
With a flick of her wrist she launched a dagger up into the light above them. It exploded, shattering and raining sparks and glass down onto the kitchen floor. It surprised Derek just enough for her to run at him, dropping to her knees and sliding right through his legs. Her dagger poised upwards sliced right though the seams of his sweatpants.
Derek looked back at her over his shoulder where she had landed on her side. His pants slowly fell down his hips, sliced from her knife and she smiled triumphantly through the pain radiating from her knees. She'd slid right through a sea of broken glass and more than a few pieces had imbedded itself into her skin, but it was worth it for this extremely comical moment.
Derek looked down at his bottom half with a quirked brow as he saw the aftermath of Alex's violent pantsing. That was the first time Derek had a cracked a smile in her direction.
"Is this what you two do all day?" Scott asked from the doorway. He and Stiles were standing with matching curious glances at Derek's shirtless and now pant-less body. They were in their Lacrosse jerseys, sticks in hand. Stiles looked decidedly unimpressed.
Alex paled, remembering why they were here. "Shit, guys - I'm sorry, I completely forgot." She stood from the floor, wincing as her knees screamed in protest. She looked down and her leggings were torn at the knees and fat drops of blood oozed from the cuts.
"Clearly." Stiles grumbled, unhappy. His shoulders slumped as his gaze slid down the length of her body and stopping at her bloody knees. His hard eyes softened noticeably as he took a step forward. "Are you okay? That looks bad."
"I'm good." Alex replied instantly, with an easy unfazed smile on her face. It was rare for her to feel guilt about trivial things like forgetting to hang out with her friends. She'd barely ever had any so the feeling was alien. "Listen, I'm all ready to go - we can head out right now."
"We've already practiced. It's official. I suck and have absolutely no chance of making first string." Stiles said, his irritation from earlier returning and easily identifiable on his face. Scott looked uncomfortable as he fidgeted with the laces on his lacrosse stick.
Alex had promised to meet them at Lacrosse field to help Stiles practice with Scott for next years try-outs but she'd forgotten. Again. This had been the third or fourth time she'd blown them off. Stiles had grown more and more impatient with Alex the less she seemed to care about spending time with him. All Alex seemed to see these days was Derek Hale and his stupid washboard abs, which Stiles liked to think he contoured every morning. No one could be that physically flawless - except maybe Alex.
"Derek," Scott broke the awkward staring match between Stiles and Alex. "Can I talk to you for minute?" A pause. "Out in the hall?"
Derek looked between Stiles and Alex making a show of rolling his eyes before leaving the kitchen, walking right through the glass shards on the floor with not even a wince. He trailed out of the loft behind Scott in nothing but his boxer briefs. His torn sweatpants lay forgotten on the kitchen floor, a moment that seemed a million miles away.
As soon as the two werewolves were out of the room Stiles huffed out an irritated breath. "Again, really?" His usually manic yet still friendly gaze had turned hard and cold towards her. It made her shudder. Guilt was an unusual feeling and it didn't feel good.
His arms were crossed over his chest and his sweaty brow was creased in a deep frown.
"Stiles, I'm really sorry." She said, a genuine apology slipping past her lips. She walked to the kitchen sink, wetting a towel and scrubbing the blood from her knees with haste. Any distraction was preferable to looking into his eyes when they were trained on her in such an unforgiving, rage-filled stare.
"You're always really, really sorry these days." He answered, his sweet warm eyes were cold. "Last week when you and Derek decided to take an impromptu hike, the week before when he wanted to go to the gorge so you could incorporate water into your training - which doesn't even make sense-"
"Hey," She interrupted gently, "it's great resistance training." Her argument was half hearted.
"I can see what's happening, Alex." Stiles sighed like he had accepted his assumptions as total truths. Which made sense because Stiles was always the one who sorted things out and saw the truths beneath the secrets. He always seemed to know everything before everyone else, but he was wrong about this.
"Stiles, come on. You're really reaching here -"
"You said you wouldn't sleep in his bed." Was his heartbreaking answer. The hurt was so clearly displayed in his eyes and Alex couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt hit her in the gut. She'd grown to care deeply for Stiles and she mentally scolded herself for letting his feelings get this far. She'd seen them coming a mile away but she'd done nothing to truly stomp them out.
"I'm not!" She said, but she knew that he didn't mean it in the literal sense. He meant something more. Something deeper. "I don't have feelings for Derek Hale."
The notion was ridiculous and normally Alex would have waved him off. She would have never given this kind of conversation a second thought but he was clearly hurting and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt Stiles.
Not Stiles. Not after everything. Never Stiles.
"Alex," He said sadly, his puppy dog face unrelenting. "Even if you did - you'd be the last person to know."
Alex stepped back like he'd hit her. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" It came out as a snarl.
Cue her defensive mechanism.
"The second you start to feel the slightest little bit of an actual emotion, you completely shut down!" His voice was verging on yelling now. He lifted his hands into the air in frustration. "For one of the bravest people I've ever met, you sure are fucking scared."
For once, Alex didn't have anything to say. She stood in the middle of the kitchen, bleeding at the knees and feeling like she might be loosing someone very important. She couldn't decipher which one hurt more.
Stiles had just questioned her bravery and her honour.
"Look, I'm sorry." Stiles' shoulders slumped, resigned. "Peter's dead. Your family isn't actively trying to kill Scott for the moment, there isn't a looming threat we need to save our friends - or each other from." He cast his eyes towards the floor and forced the words out of his mouth, "Maybe we should cool it a little on a social level."
"Cool it a little on a social level?" Alex repeated, like the words tasted bad. Scratch that, the words tasted like male fucking pride and his own bruised ego and Alex was suddenly fuming mad. "FUCK YOU, STILINSKI!" She roared. "Just because I won't sleep with you, you're fucking off?"
"That is not what this is." He said sternly, "You know that's not what this is."
Then, he'd left.
That was the last time she'd seen Stiles until the present moment. Standing beside Scott in Derek's kitchen watching them spar. He still looked the same. He was still standing like he'd just grown a pair of arms and didn't know what to do with them. His warm whiskey brown eyes still shone with mischief and understanding answers to questions that no one in the room had even begin to think about.
She missed him.
Did he miss her?
"Derek, I need to know what the hell is going on." Scott demanded. "I need to know what happened to Isaac Lahey and his father."
Scott had gotten more commanding. He seemed more at ease with himself and his new found abilities. Alex was impressed. He'd always seemed like he felt awkward or out of place but he had a presence now, one that was hard to deny as he stood tall and proud in Derek's kitchen demanding answers.
Alex had been at the first practice of the year - she'd seen the tell tale signs of another teen wolf on the field. She'd also seen him get dragged off by the police. He was a suspect in his fathers murder. That much was obvious when the police had cuffed him and none too gently shoved him in the back of a cruiser.
"That would be none of your business." Derek said, barely throwing Scott a glance as he wiped his body down with a towel. While Alex's attention snapped to her roommate.
"Wait," She interjected, focusing her fiery glare at his back, "Why would you know anything about - fuck." The realization made her curse. "You said it was just Jackson."
Scott and Stiles rounded on her with disbelief and betrayal shining in their eyes. It would have almost been comical the way they'd done it simultaneously, if it weren't for the implications.
"You knew he bit Jackson and didn't think it might be a good idea to tell us?" Stiles yelled, clearly horrified by her obvious disloyalty.
Alex snapped her head towards Stiles.
"Tell who? You?" Alex let out a cruel and bitter laugh. "As far as you're concerned I don't even exist. This is the first time you've looked at me, let alone spoken to me, all summer - so, tell me? When was I supposed to have told you? While you were hurdling over rows of seat at the movie theatre just to get away from me? When you'd cross the street when you saw me coming? When you gave yourself a concussion trying to avoid me at the Gorge?"
She listed the times she'd seen him this summer and his cumbersome ways to avoid her.
"That last one actually wasn't on purpose." Scott supplied, unhelpfully. "He saw you in that green bikini and he kind of just . . . fell over." Stiles audibly groaned at his friends admission, running a hand through the hair that had grown out a little over the summer months.
Alex's eyes widened slightly and felt the tips of her ears get hot. She hadn't expected that.
"Jesus Christ." Derek groaned, "Bella, Edward - can you take your teen melodrama somewhere that isn't my loft?"
"Not until I find out why you bit Jackson and Isaac." Scott demanded, his attention back on Derek, who was pulling on a simple black tee. He took a heavy gulp of water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He turned on Scott with a look that clearly expressed his boredom with the conversation they were having.
"I bit Lahey because Jackson's body rejected the bite - all summer, three full moons and no transformation." Derek tossed Alex a water from the fridge and she caught it with quick reflexes and a nod of appreciation. "Lahey's worked."
Stiles watched the exchange.
"Why?" Scotts question was a pained one. "He was just a kid."
"A kid who's father beat the shit out of him on a daily basis." Derek shrugged, unaffected by Scott's sentimentality. "I did the kid a favour. More importantly, I gave him a choice."
"An Alpha needs a pack." Alex said as though she was trying to work something out in her head. "That part makes sense. It's werewolf 101. You're stronger with a few Beta's watching your ass - but why the fuck would you pick a high school kid?" She eyed Scott and Stiles purposefully. "Didn't turn out so great for your uncle."
Alex was a little pissed that Derek had obviously been galavanting around biting prepubescent kids, but at the end of the day she knew exactly what their relationship was. Tentative. They weren't best friends and they didn't divulge their deep dark secrets. Or mysterious master plans, apparently. They were living and training together and they both had different agendas. A part of Derek's had just been revealed and Alex's was certain he wasn't too thrilled about that.
"The bite works best on the young and strong." Scott answered and Alex scrunched her eyebrows together. After her lifetime of training and studying the supernatural she hadn't come across that bit of information. "You can't do this to innocent kids, Derek." Scott had a habit of sounding like a broken record.
"Actually, I can." Derek smiled, unfriendly in its nature. "I'm the Alpha."
"Jesus fucking Christ." Alex complained. "We get it. You don't need to keep saying it."
Apparently, Derek and Scott had something in common. Being a broken fucking record.
"Well, almighty Alpha. You've got yourself one hell of an issue." Stiles smarted. "Isaac is currently being detained for questioning about his fathers murder. Any guesses on how long my dad can hold him there, legally?" Stiles was mocking Derek now. "Twenty-four hours and I do believe the full moon is in six."
Derek glared.
"We need a plan." Scott finished. "Derek, this is your mess and you're going to help clean it up. You and Stiles brainstorm. In the mean time," He directed his gaze to her. "Alex, can I talk to you?"
Alex eyed him wearily, but nodded nonetheless and followed Scott out into the corridor. The hallway was large and dimly lit. It matched the decor of the whole building. Scott skidded to a stop and turned towards Alex with a pointed look that expressed how much he didn't want to be having whatever conversation he was about to start.
"Cut Stiles some slack, okay?" His voice was low and urgent. "Can you guys just get over whatever happened."
"He didn't tell you?"
"All he does is mope and complain - and go absolutely insane when he sees you around Beacon Hills." Scott rushed out the words like he was doing something wrong and didn't want to get caught. "Last week he nearly crashed the Jeep because he saw you and Lydia walking out of the library. Whatever is going on between you two is getting dangerous now."
"Stiles is the one who went all 'involuntary celibate' on me." Said Alex, crossing her arms over her chest and propping herself against the wall trying to look a lot less interested than she actually was. "I don't know what he thought I owed him, but he pulled a dick move."
"He was jealous, so what?" Scott argued. "Everyone gets jealous. All Stiles wants is to hold your hand and carry your books to class. Don't make it about not being able to get laid. You know just as well as I do, that isn't what it's about. He wants more."
"He has a stupid fucking way of showing it." Alex huffed.
"Sorry. Am I interrupting something?" A new voice joined the pair. It was velvety smooth and familiar. Her head snapped up at the baritone and her eyes widened only slightly before she got her reaction under control.
"Jonathan?" Alex nearly choked on his name as it left her mouth. She was entertaining the thought that maybe her father had finally sent someone to kill her. Kind of a dick move to send the guy she'd been lusting over her entire adolescence, but it fit the bill. Her father had always been all about poetic justice.
"Alex." He nodded, looking her over. She suddenly felt very underdressed in her simple black leggings. "Are you still keeping up with your training?"
"Of course." Alex scoffed like the question was ridiculous, pursing her lips. "I may have been voted off the island but I have a new team to protect."
Stiles and Derek had come to stand in the loft's threshold, eyeing the stranger warily for vastly different reasons. Using their superior super human hearing they'd come to realize that they had a visitor.
"Jonathon, right?" Asked Stiles, eyeing the newcomer with a tentative gaze. They'd met briefly at the disastrous dinner at the Argent household last year and Jonathon's face was a hard one to forget. He looked like he just stepped fresh off of a photoshoot at all times and Stiles somehow felt even more annoyed than when Scott had insisted that they go to Derek's stupid loft in the first place.
"When I heard you were living with one," Jonathon took the opportunity to stare rudely at Derek, "I didn't believe it." He'd ignored Stiles and his polite attempt to seem welcoming and Stiles rolled his eyes at the blatant disregard. He looked to Scott for confirmation that Jonathon was a dickhead. Scott wasn't paying attention.
"Who told you?" Alex demanded with her usual air of 'I don't fucking care either way'. But she did, and she was hurt at his obvious judgement on her current situation. She hadn't had a choice of where to live and it wasn't like he'd offered up his couch, so he could take a long walk off a short cliff.
"Allison." Was his curt response.
"She's back?" Alex asked.
"Last week." Jonathon was still eyeing the three men who surrounded her and she wasn't sure if he was preparing to pull a weapon on them. The act wouldn't have surprised her and he was out numbered. Vastly.
"Well," Alex drawled, "Who told her?" When it became clear that no one was going to fess up, she sighed. "Fuck. Whatever. What do you want, Jonathon?"
"Allison will be be attempting to complete The First Trial tonight. It's her initiation into the fold." Jonathon informed her. "The reigns will be passed if she completes it - your father and mother request you return your weapons to the arsenal as you will no longer be needing them."
The First Trial. Alex remembered hers. Her father had locked her in a room while she was sleeping and when she'd woken up she'd been strapped to a chair in an abandoned warehouse. The whole team had come together to trick her into thinking that a werewolf had trapped her in there and then her father had revealed himself. He'd explained the task at hand, that she'd have to free herself from her restraints with whatever skills she'd acquired and that she would be timed. Alex's heart skipped a beat while thinking about her sister being put in the same situation. Alex had been terrified but she'd also been well aware of the existence of the supernatural. Allison was new to this and would probably have a stroke.
Alex laughed, despite her inner turmoil. "You're kidding, right?"
No one was taking her weapons. The thought was laughable.
Silence.
"You'll have to pry my daggers out of my cold dead hands." She growled. Any previous pretence of civility was gone in an instant. Alex's gaze was cruel and unrelenting. It wasn't so long ago that Jonathon had to follow her orders and now here he was, condemning her for her living arrangement and demanding she return the weapons that were hers by birth right.
Fuck that.
"I've been advised to use whatever force necessary." Jonathon declared, his right hand inching closer to his jacket. A gun probably. Jonathon could never beat her in hand to hand combat - he would need an advantage.
They didn't find out whatever it was that he'd been reaching for in his jacket because Scott caught his arm, fangs bared and eyes glowing menacingly. A deep inhuman growl simmering beneath his chest. Derek was crouched low, ready to fight and his accompanying growl matched Scott's.
Alex let herself smirk at Jonathon who'd taken a giant step backwards in fear.
Serves him right for being a total dickhead.
"I guess you do have a new team." He glowered at everyone for a second before turning on his heel and making a bee line for the stairwell.
"Tell my mother and father that these," She pulled her ring daggers from their holster and twirled them around her fingers the way she liked to when she was showing off. "Are mine. By birth right." She did a few impressive tricks and continued. "My dad can send as many of you as he wants - he can even come himself. He knows they'll always be mine. Same as the fact that I'll always be an Argent. He can't take that away either."
Jonathon said nothing more as he backed down the hallway, his eyes never leaving the people he deemed as a threat until he was out of sight. Never turn your back on a threat. Another Argent tagline.
"Is it just me," Alex questioned with a playful smile, when he was gone, "or did he just get way less hot?"
Derek covered a laugh, effectively breaking the tension that had settled thickly over the foursome. They all breathed a collective sigh of relief because for once, shit hadn't hit the fan and they filed back into the loft to come up with a plan to get Isaac out of the mess he and Derek had put him in.
"I know we've got a lot to deal with right now." Scott started as they all took seat on Derek's horrible living room couch. "But I think you should know, Alex."
"Know what?" She groaned. How could her day possibly get any worse?
"Your grandfather is in town." Scott started slowly, eyes drifting to Stiles in attempt for backup.
That wasn't so surprising. Her aunt Kate's funeral had been earlier that week and though no one had contacted her about it, she knew when and where it was happening. Alex had decided not to show up. Her family had made it clear they wanted nothing to do with her and Alex had written them off as well. Not to mention the constant threat of death her family members seemed to be so fond of making. Her Aunt Kate hadn't exactly been a saint, either.
"He's scary." Scott continued, his off set jaw quirking up at one side.
"Yeah." Alex agreed. "You have no idea."
.
After a few hours of strategizing, Scott and Derek had gone to Isaac Lahey's house in search of any evidence that Isaac's dad was the worthless piece of shit he was while Alex and Stiles were forced to ride together in his Jeep to the Sheriff's department so they could wait for Derek. The ride was uncomfortably long and uncomfortably silent.
The night was balmy, as most night's were in Beacon Hill's during the summer. The crickets chirped loudly and the large industrial lamp posts lighting the parking lot buzzed with electricity. Stiles and Alex sat, silently, in the Jeep, eyes trained on the building. The awkwardness in the air was nearly tangible and the sound of Stiles' breathing was making Alex feel uncomfortable for some reason.
Stiles started to drum his fingers against the steering wheel vigorously while staring straight at Alex. Her jaw clenched in irritation. She wouldn't give in and look at him directly but she could feel his gaze trained on her face, like he was daring her to do something - anything.
She spun her knives in her hands, with a little more flourish than she normally used and flicked her intense gaze on him, another dare.
Two could play at this game.
To anyone watching them it would have looked like a childish display of 'anything you can do, I can do better'.
Until Stiles' phone rang loudly in his pocket breaking whatever spell they'd both allowed themselves to fall under and breaking their concentration. For Alex, the embarrassment set in pretty soon after he'd answered the phone. This was her job. Why was she letting Stiles get to her like this?
It was just a job.
"Hello?" Stiles spoke hurriedly, eyes scanning the empty parking lot save for the few police cruisers that remained unmanned. "Allison? Yeah, what's -"
Alex's ears perked up at the mention of her sister.
"Okay, yeah. Thanks." Stiles finished, ending the phone call and slipping the device back into his hoodie pocket.
"What's happening?" Alex inquired.
"Some guys just left your house, one was dressed as a deputy." Stiles explained with a solemn face. "Your dad put a hit on Isaac."
Alex scrunched her eyebrows together.
"No. That plan has my grandfather written all over it." Alex sighed and then eyed Stiles with contempt as a realization dawned on her. "That was Allison on the phone. Why is she helping you?"
Allison had been more than clear about the fact that she was not happy with Alex and that her dear sister was less than dead to her. So, why would she slum it by helping Team Wolf?
Stiles avoided eye contact and swallowed nervously, the pale column of his neck tensing with the motion and attracting her attention. He kind of looked like a deer in the headlights and it didn't take a genius to figure out that there was more to the story, but as Alex opened her mouth to demand an explanation two hulking black SUV's pulled to screeching halt at the front doors of the station.
"Where the hell is Derek?" Stiles questioned nervously watching the man dressed as a deputy exit the car. "He's supposed to be here."
"Guess I'm going in SOLO." Alex had already swung open the door of the Jeep stepping out into the warm night air as agile as a cat, narrowed eyes trained on her surroundings. "Stay here."
The door swung shut on Stiles' shocked face.
"Yeah right." He announced sarcastically to the empty car, reaching over the seats and into the back where his fingers found his trusty aluminium bat.