Isabelnecessaryonabicycle: Thanks for your review! I'm glad you love the story. I hope Josie continues to make you happy!

A/N: Thank you for the follows, alerts, and favorites! I know it's been a long time between posts.

Chapter 7: Scott Goes AWOL

The next afternoon, I was skimming over The Pythagorean doctrine, listening to Benny Goodman, when my bedroom door burst open. Charlie stood on the other side with his arms folded and a devilishly wide smirk on his face. Without a word, my older brother stepped aside, revealing a rather frantic looking Stiles. I screeched in surprise, ripping my headphones out of my ears and nearly falling off my bed in the process. I felt completely exposed; dressed in dark blue pajama shorts and a grey V-neck shirt.

"Jesus Christ, Charlie!"

I panicked, trying to hide the research books and my notebook under the pillows I'd been propped up on. Stiles had zeroed in on the old resource books I'd absolutely illegally borrowed from the public library. He was bouncing a little and his fingers were flickering at his sides. Clearly something was up but he didn't want to say anything in front of my brother. Charlie scoffed and muttered something under his breath. Stiles' face turned red for a hot second.

"Leave the door open, children," Charlie mocked as he ran a hand down his face in exasperation.

Neither Stiles nor I moved until I heard Charlie walk down the hall and close the door to his bedroom. I jumped passed the nerve-wracked boy and stuck my head out my door to make sure my brother was gone. I closed my door until it was open just a sliver before turning back to Stiles who'd gone totally still. I watched for a moment as his eyes darted all around my room, taking it in. His face seemed to become a darker shade of red as if he only just realized where he was standing. He'd probably never been in a teenage girl's room before.

I crossed my arms over my chest to hide the fact that I wasn't wearing a supportive bra, "What's –"

"Have you seen or heard from Scott," Stiles cut me off, waving his arms wildly.

"No? Should I have?"

"Ah, shit… Oh, man – this isn't good – crap, crap, crap!" Stiles began pacing, muttering to himself but loud enough for me to hear. He had a crazed, terrified look in his eyes. When I asked him what had happened, he ignored me. He'd stopped pacing though, electing to fall onto my bed, sitting with his head cradled in his hands. I snorted in annoyance.

"Stiles," I tried calling out to him again more firmly, "tell me what's going on."

"Okay, so we totally got Derek Hale arrested and then Scott wolfed out and disappeared because we dug up a body on the Hale property and there was this wolfsbane rope and it was in my backpack because I wanted to test it and stuff and then Scott started freaking out so I threw it in the woods and Scott ran off and I can't get ahold of him and the game is tonight and now I'm freaking out."

Stiles inhaled sharply once he'd finished his long-winded sentence. I stared at the boy with an open mouth, shocked. They had Derek…arrested…?! I felt my heart start to race and I was thankful that Stiles wasn't the teen werewolf of the Dynamic Dumbass Duo. I shut my mouth and kept it shut as Stiles continued to babble on about his anxieties. And there were quite a lot. I think he even mentioned something about his jeep making a funny noise; but I was only half listening at that point. I had my own problems to worry about; like if they knew I helped Derek bury his sister's body…did they even know that was his sister's body? My teeth clamped down on the insides of my cheeks. Derek was in a holding cell and Scott was not only missing, but in danger of shifting during his first Lacrosse game. I couldn't help but think that Stiles' dad would be banging down my door next. I was Derek's accomplice after all. I shook the frightening thought of being brought into the Sheriff Station from my head. I needed to find Scott. To do that though, I needed to get rid of Stiles.

I rushed over to my desk, rummaging through the top drawer for a pen or sharpie. Behind me, I hadn't noticed that Stiles, still rambling, had reached under my pillows and grabbed one of the old resource books he'd seen earlier. I uncapped a blue sharpie with my teeth and scribbled on a piece of notebook paper to make sure it still worked. When I turned around, I was horrified to find him holding up the thick book I was using to teach myself with, watching me with wide eyes. There was confusion and something else in those bright eyes of his.

"You read Latin," he asked incredulously.

In a split second, my brain spasmed. Like an idiot trying to hide something, I shrugged and quoted innocently through the corner of my mouth, "What? Like it's hard?"

Stiles blinked rapidly, trying to process what had just transpired. Just as he turned around to reach for something else I didn't want him to see, I bounded forward and grabbed Stiles' wrist. His whole body tensed as he dropped the book and turned to face me, gasping like a fish out of water. A jumble of random words tumbled passed his lips. I wanted to giggle. I thought, he's cute when he's a nervous wreck. If just touching his hand brought out this response, I really wanted to know what else could get him flustered. Putting yet another Stiles thought on the backburner, I carefully wrote down my number on Stiles' palm. It was slightly sweaty, causing the ink to bleed a little.

"Here's my number," I said after I recapped the pen. "You know, in case of wolfy emergencies."

"Oh – oh yeah. Totally," Stiles stammered. I grinned.

"I'm going to help you find Scott, Stiles. But we'll cover more ground separately. Don't worry. If anything comes up, you call me and I'll be there to try and help with more Jedi mind tricks," I gave the boy's wrist a gentle squeeze before letting go. His whiskey-colored eyes widened a fraction.

"Call you for anything…" Stiles' voice rose an octave or two before he cleared his throat deeply.

I rolled my eyes playfully, not at all bothered that that's what he fixated on, "Anything."

"Like if I just want to say hi…or um…just check in or –"

"Or, how about, for starters, if you find Scott before I do."

"Yup! Mmhm, can do! I can totally do that…call you! For…Scott. My best buddy, Scott McCall…"

"Stiles?"

"Yup?"

"You're hopeless," I shook my head with a chuckle.

"Yup," he nodded in agreement, standing up as his head wobbled like a bobble head.

He's not into you…He's not into you…He's not into you…

When I ushered Stiles Stilinski out my front door, I watched as he crossed the street diagonally to his own house. The whole time, he was looking down, not even bothering to check for traffic. Thankfully, the street we lived on wasn't too busy on that Saturday afternoon. I leaned against the open doorframe and crossed my arms, unabashedly staring at Stiles. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Stiles Stilinski was definitely my type. I think, I'd always lament the fact that he's hung up on another girl. It was only sophomore year…maybe he'd grow out of it? My phone dinged and I looked down to see that an unknown number had texted me.

Unknown: Home safe ya creep.

I jumped out of my skin. Dread filled my body as I looked up. Stiles waved his phone in the air with a large smile and gave me a lazy two-finger salute. Red hot embarrassment flooded my cheeks as I nervously raised a hand back, wiggling my fingers, before dropping my arm. I all but slammed the front door shut and slumped against it. He'd totally caught me staring. How mortifying!

After nearly an hour of contemplating what should be done, I'd decided to use some good old Druid-y magic to find Scott McCall. I had thought about asking Charlie to help me, but he'd made it perfectly clear in the past that he wanted nothing to do with anything supernatural. I had spread a large roadmap of Beacon Hills across my floor and used my Angelite pendant as a locator. With a deep breath, I whispered Scott's name over and over again. In my mind's eye, I pictured his kind face with that lopsided jaw, his floppy hair, and tan skin. I could feel the vibration of movement from the thin metal chain attached to the crystal which let me know my Locate Creature spell was working. As I concentrated, I could sense the direction in which Scott was moving, meaning he was in his human form. The spell wouldn't work if a creature (or person) was in a different form than the one I was picturing. When I opened my eyes, the point of the pendant was touching Scott's street – about four blocks away from mine.

I exhaled slowly and placed my necklace back around my neck. I grabbed my phone from where I threw it on the floor and scrolled through my contacts, eventually landing on Scott's name. I hummed to myself. Thankfully, I hadn't deleted his number after our last Biology class last year. I sent him a quick text telling him to check in with Stiles and wished him good luck before the game tonight. Then I paused, hovering my fingers over the unknown number that belonged to the spazzy boy who lived across the street. I shook my head. Scott would call him or something.

I crawled back onto my bed and pulled the old texts and my notes from under the pillows. Looking at my alarm clock, I determined that I still had a few hours before I needed to get ready for the game. As I wrote down a couple lines from a Druidic verse of healing, I ignored my buzzing phone when a picture of me and Lydia Martin at her thirteenth birthday party popped up on my screen.

"– and my dad hit him with his car!"

"What? What was he doing over at your house?"

"He said he wanted to say hi before the game."

Despite the cold and her hair around her face, I could tell Allison was blushing deeply. On her other side was her dad, who grumpily shoved some of Allison's popcorn in his mouth. He mumbled something I didn't catch but the girl next to me threw her dad a slightly annoyed look. Cheers went around the bleachers as both teams took the field. I clapped along, biting my lip, on the lookout for Scott. He and Stiles had just approached the field when I saw a short, strawberry-blonde in a dark blue pea coat pull Scott to her. Lydia's body language screamed intimidating. She patted his chest and flounced right towards us. At that moment, Charlie plopped himself down next to me, reeking of too much cologne. I scoffed and rolled my eyes. No amount of fancy, rich-boy smells could hide the skunky scent clinging to his leather jacket.

"Hello," Charlie leaned over me to look at Allison. His voice dripped with honey. The new girl smiled at my brother sweetly, dimples popping. "I'm Charlie Beckett. Maria's older brother."

"I'm –"

"Allison," I interrupted. "I told you about her. So…" I turned to the girl next to me to change the subject. I didn't think it would happen – Allison seemed like a very smart girl – but I didn't want to risk her falling prey to Charlie's 'charms'. "…have you started the math homework yet?"

Before Allison could respond, someone cleared their throat. Lydia was staring at our little group with wide eyes and a fake smile. "Any room for me," she asked innocently.

"Absolutely," Charlie smirked, patting his knee. Lydia and I both grimaced, although, hers was more subtle.

"Scooch," Lydia told me in her ditzy soprano voice as she waved her hand at me in a 'move over' motion. Allison grinned as the Queen Been wiggled herself between us.

"Would it kill you to ask nicely," I muttered as I pushed Charlie down the bench to make more room for my wide hips. Lydia briefly narrowed her eyes at me.

The ref blew his whistle and thunderous cheers filled the chilly night air. My knee started bouncing unconsciously as Scott and the rest of the team took to the field. Jackson, I noticed, sauntered out as if he hadn't been hurt at practice at all. Scott, from his position watched him before shaking his head to focus. That's right, I thought to myself, just focus on the game.

Down.

Set.

As soon as the whistle blew to start the game, Jackson took off. He'd won the ball with ease and started to carry it across the field. The other team was on him quickly and he had to backtrack a little to escape a tackle. Further down the field, I saw Scott raise his stick and free hand in the air, waving them. He was completely open. Despite this, Jackson tossed the ball to Quint and took off, catching the ball with ease when my ex kindly tossed it back to the captain. Lydia cheered loudly as her boyfriend raced passed Scott with three of the opposing players on his tail. Scott lowered his arms and hunched his shoulders in frustration. I couldn't but think that maybe it was better that way? If Scott didn't get the ball, he couldn't hurt someone blocking the path to the goal.

Jackson tossed the ball to someone else a second before he almost got hit. But the guy missed and the ball fell to the ground. It was only a few feet away from Scott. Allison and I cheered as Scott dipped his stick to scoop the ball up when Jackson came up from behind and elbowed him in the side, making Scott trip over his feet and fall hard on the ground. I hissed in annoyance at Jackson. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone jump up from the players' bench. Stiles ran a hand over his buzzed hair. I couldn't see his face, but he must have been as stressed out as I was feeling. The whistle blew and the Beacon Hills supporters cheered extra loud. My attention went back to the field as Jackson pumped his fist and ran back to the starting line with some of the other boys. He'd stolen Scott's goal.

Lydia was screaming like a Banshee out of Hell. She jumped on her toes and took Allison's arm. From under the bench, she pulled out a huge white poster that I had no idea had been there. I grunted as the flimsy poster hit me in the face as she raised it above her head, pulling on Allison's arm to get her to grasp the other side. Allison chuckled as she helped raise the 'JACKSON IS #1' poster. That caught Scott's attention. The shadows cast on his helmet hid his face, but I could tell Scott was not happy. A long stream of breath visibly left his lips. Stiles had turned around to see what his best friend had looked at. He stared at the poster with an open mouth. My eyes met his and I shrugged, unable to help.

Once the referee blew his whistle, Scott took his position. I started biting my thumbnail anxiously as he hunched over, hot breath streaming from his helmet. I felt like I blacked out for a minute, because, before I realized what had happened, Scott had jumped over like, three other players and had bolted down the field with he ball. Allison was jumping on the balls of her feet as she shouted for Scott to keep running. The boy was dodging bodies left and right, completely unscathed. Even Lydia seemed impressed with Scott's sudden improvement on the field. For the first time in his lacrosse career, Scott McCall scored a goal. And then he scored another; effectively tying up the game with a little more than half a minute left. But, once they reset and Jackson (surprisingly) passed Scott the ball, he didn't take off like the last two times. He stood in the middle of three opposing players with the goal directly in front of him. I watched in horror as his body hunched and his head whipped around. Scott was caged. Everyone around us was screaming for Scott to make a move. With six seconds remaining on the clock, two of the other players charged. Scott reared back and flung the ball at the goal.

I jumped to my feet and screamed in relief as the ref blew his whistle. The game was over, and Scott had scored the winning goal. I was swept down the bleachers as everyone rushed into field to celebrate our first win of the season. Lydia scampered away to coo over Jackson and Allison had run to Scott who was still standing near the goal. I stood back, shoving my hands in my coat for warmth now that I was alone. I spied Stiles still sitting on the bench.

"Hey," I called out to the boy. His head shot up, not expecting to be approached by anyone. "Good game!"

"Uh…"

The blood drained from my face. "I mean! That was a good game! Hopefully, you get to play next week."

I started kicking myself mentally for sounding so stupid. Of course he wouldn't get to play. Coach never put him in. Stiles' lips pressed together in a thin line as he looked back at the ground. Across from Stiles, his dad was on the phone and had a tense frown on his face. When Stiles looked up at him, he noticed this too.

"Dad? What's up?"

The Sheriff sighed and thanked whoever was on the other line. He rubbed a hand down his now weary face. He looked at me before turning to his son. The medical examiner had concluded their report of the other half of the body found by Scott and Stiles. My knees almost gave out. I was totally done for. He knew. My prints were all over the place. I was doomed.

"It was an animal attack. Not a human – attack. I've got to get down to the station. Derek Hale's been let go."

"What," Stiles jumped off the bench, frantic. "Dad? Are you even sure? Like super, one-hundred percent positive? What if it's a mistake?"

"There's more," Sheriff Stilinski sighed. "We have an ID on the body. Her name was Laura Hale. It's his sister."

I tried to be as shocked as Stiles was. He frantically searched the field for Scott. He was nowhere to be found, but neither was Allison. As the Sheriff hurried away, he turned back to tell Stiles to grab Scott and get home. If there was a dangerous animal on the loose, he didn't want to take any chances. I nearly snorted. Derek Hale was a dangerous animal…just not the one they were after. I tried to follow Stiles, but someone grabbed the back of my coat.

"No way, sister," Charlie huffed.

"But –"

"No. I heard what the Sheriff said. I know that look on your face. An animal attack isn't always just an animal attack. Donna's right; not your pack, not your problem."

I struggled out of my brother's grasp, appalled. When had Charlie become so cruel... "So what? I can help and you would just have me stand back? Watch as people get hurt? Two people already had their lives ruined, Charlie. And one of them is dead! Mom would've helped them!"

"I don't care about their lives," Charlie's voice got dangerously low. I'd seen my brother mad before, but he was downright livid. "I care about yours. And mom isn't here; we don't know what she would have done. You aren't her, Josie. You won't ever be." As he so usually does, Charlie walked away from me, leaving me stranded on the emptying field; hot tears prickling the corners of my eyes.

I ended up getting a ride home from Allison and her dad. She approached me on the benches with a shit-eating grin on her face. But the look of pure satisfaction and elation was dropped when I told her that Charlie had left me. Mr. Argent didn't hesitate when his daughter asked to drive me home, which was out of their way. She even convinced him to drive through Tommy's Burgers for milkshakes. All it took were her big doe eyes and he caved. It made me miss my dad. When I was dropped off, Allison got out of the car and gave me a big hug, saying she'd tell me the next day her exciting news. I waved goodbye and waiting for them to drive around the corner before I plopped down on the grass in the front yard, my Neapolitan shake forgotten on the sidewalk.

As I laid sprawled out on the grass, hands behind my head, I stared up at the clear night sky. The stars were shining beautifully even with the little light pollution. My weary eyes roamed the heavens, searching for comfort in the stars. I traced the Summer Triangle with my nose, it being right above me. Hercules, the fifth largest constellation in the sky, seemed to wink down at me with his wide torso and spazzy limbs. The Big Dipper with its seven bright stars mocked me. If you draw a line between the two stars at its edge, you'll see Polaris, the North Star. Polaris was always my favorite star. Because no matter where you are, it will always point you north. That's how the earliest navigators managed to travel all over the northern hemisphere. It pointed you in the direction you needed to go when you were lost. And I felt more lost than ever; hardly any friends, a grandmother who tolerated me, a brother who ignored me, and I was stuck in my Druid studies. I needed guidance. I needed someone who could help me move in the right direction. My North Star.

Staring up at Polaris, I closed one eye and traced a line straight down with my pointer finger, hoping it would show me in what direction I needed to go. As my finger got closer to the ground, I was surprised to see that Polaris was twinkling brightly over a house that wasn't too far down from mine. All the lights were off except for the front porch and a bedroom in the front corner of the house. I sat up in shock, not sure if I was reaching for something that wasn't there. But in the driveway sat an old robin's egg blue Jeep.