{001}

**Minor changes, mostly wording/descriptions.

"All I'm saying is that this probably isn't one of your best ideas, Stiles," Alex Moore pointed out logically as she hopped out of the back of his weathered blue jeep. The frigid night air whipped around her, biting into her exposed skin, causing her body to shiver.

The Beacon Hills Preservation sign sat eerily at the entrance to the preserve, lit up against the backdrop of the dark forest that loomed before them. Alex hugged her hoodie closer to her body in an attempt to preserve what little warmth she had. Once again Stiles had dragged her from the house barely allowing time for her to grab proper footwear let alone a warm jacket. This was how all their escapades started—dragging her kicking and screaming from her warm bed.

It had been this way for as long as she could remember. The three of them had practically grown up together. Even before his father, the Sheriff, had taken her in, they had been inseparable. They were affectionally known as the 'Three Musketeers' by their parents. A fancy way of saying that trouble followed them whenever they were together.

Tonight, she found herself half-asleep in the middle of the woods searching for a dead body. Something that was not all too high on her bucket list of things to achieve. Stiles had ripped her from her bed before she had a chance to protest or grab something to beat him with.

"We're seriously doing this?" Scott whined as he stared at the entrance of the preserve his red hoodie vibrant against the bleak background. Red was never a color she had liked. It had too many memories attached to it.

"You two are always the ones bitching that nothing ever happens in this town," Stiles asserted as he clapped Scott on the back before taking off deeper into the preserve with their only source of light. Sighing, Alex bounded after them; struggling to match their long strides with her shorts ones as Stiles charged ahead. From a distance, she could hear Scott complaining to him about Lacrosse practice. He was determined to make first-line this year. Stiles, however, had his mind set on something and there wasn't any dissuading him.

Alex felt a surge of sadness as she watched her two best friends banter back and forth ahead of her. Things had been different between them since she graduated. Although graduating hadn't necessarily put a strain on their friendship things were certainly different. No longer could she share in the pains of an endless mountain of homework or the stress of horrible teachers. It wasn't like she didn't see them. As Assistant Coach of the Lacrosse team, she saw them quite a bit.

It just wasn't the same.

Most of her time was spent running Coach Finstock's errands, making up rosters, grading homework assignments, and that was all on top of her online college classes and her work at the vet clinic with Scott and Deaton. It was times like this that she wished her mom was still alive. Make no mistake, she loved Stiles' dad like he was her own, but there were times when all she wanted was to see her mother's smiling face.

Letting out a frustrated huff, Alex attempted to keep pace with her friends. At 5'5 she was at a bit of a disadvantage when it came to stride patterns. The dirt beneath her shoes was wet from the recent rains and without the glow of the flashlight she kept stumbling over raised tree roots and random sticks. The young redhead swore colorfully as the rain began to fall, soaking her within minutes. This was exactly what she didn't need. Alex quickened her pace.

"Out of curiosity," She breathed heavily, finally catching up to them, linking her arm with Scott's so she wouldn't fall behind again. "Which half of the body are we looking for?"

"Huh," Stiles contemplated, slowing his pace a bit. "I didn't even think about that."

"And what if whoever killed this girl is still out here?" Scott pointed out, jumping on her bandwagon of thought. Stiles nervously bit his bottom lip.

"Also, something I didn't think about." He stammered, continuing up the deep embankment. Alex held out a hand to help Scott up as she reached for his inhaler. His breathing was becoming steadily worse as his asthma kicked in.

"It's…" Scott huffed, taking the last large stop. "Comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail."

"I know." Stiles admitted nonchalantly still charging ahead. Scott slowed down to administer his inhaler while dragging Alex along behind; all while screaming at Stiles to stop. Scott's asthma was slowly becoming worse and they were too far behind Stiles for him to really hear their calls.

The sharp sound of a dog bark broke the silence sending Stiles shrieking to the ground as the mutt charged at him on the end of his leash. Alex shoved Scott roughly behind a tree just as one of the officer's flashlights hit her face.

"Hang on! Hang on!" Sheriff Stilinski yelled; his flashlight trained directly at Stiles. "These two delinquents belong to me."

"Dad," the brunette greeted his father casually as he slowly stood up, the light in his eyes disorienting. "How you doing?"

"So," The Sheriff asked his son pointedly. "Do you listen in on all my calls?" Stiles gulped as Alex struggled to maintain a straight face. Of course, Stiles didn't listen in on all the calls. Some of them were boring.

"Where is your third musketeer in crime?" The Sheriff lifted his flashlight at Alex who shrugged nonchalantly trying not to give Scott away.

"Probably home sleeping," She smiled sweetly at her father figure. "First day of Lacrosse and all." Stiles and she traded a nervous glance as his father called out for their friend. They both breathed a sigh of relief when there was no response. The Sheriff let out a disappointed sigh.

"Well young man," He put his arm around his son's shoulder, leading the two friends back towards Stiles' Jeep. "I am going to walk you two back to the car, and you and I are going to have a conversation about a little something called invasion of privacy." Alex snorted a laugh.

"And you, young lady," The Sheriff turned his attention to her. "I thought I could count on you to keep him in line. You are the adult now." Stiles smirked; adult was a pretty big word for Alex.

"What can I say," Alex shook her head trying her best to look as contrite as possible. "You can lead a donkey to water, but you can't make him drink." Sheriff Stilinski laughed as he opened the passenger side door to the jeep for her to climb in.

"You two get home and stay there." He pointed a finger at them in warning, no room for argument in his stern voice.

"Yes sir!" Stiles saluted comically before closing his door and starting the Jeep.

"That was close." Alex whispered before letting out a sigh of relief. Stiles nodded as he pulled out of the preserve and onto a small dirt road.

"You're telling me," He laughed nervously running a hand through his short brown hair. "Think Scott will be okay?"

"He doesn't live far from here," She shrugged reaching up to touch the pendant that hung around her neck. "I'm sure he'll be...Stiles Stop!"

Stiles slammed on the brakes of the Jeep causing the back end to slide in the mud before coming to a halt just before the main road.

"Oh my god!" Stiles exclaimed looking around frantically for something he might have hit. "What the hell was that for?" Alex couldn't feel her necklace. Hastily, she turned on the Jeep's interior lights searching for her lost pendant.

"I can't find my pendant."

"Your pendant?" Stiles spluttered as he helped her search. "You almost killed us because of a necklace?" Alex shot her friend a dark glare she continued to tear his Jeep apart.

"It was my mothers," she stressed. "It's the only thing I have left of her. The fire took everything else." Stiles' face fell as she hopped out of the Jeep. He should have known that, but Alex had never been one to dwell on the past. Especially when It came to her mom. It had been nearly six years since her mom had died in a fire and since then Alex hadn't been as open as she once was. The redhead used to be an open book, willing to talk about anything, and to a point, she was still like that.

Except about the fire. Even if she was willing to talk about what happened, Alex had one major talent and it was making it seem as if she was telling you everything without telling you much at all. That, and she was fiercely loyal and protective.

"It's okay," He reassured her as he rooted around his front seat. "We'll find it." Alex shook her head.

"It must have dropped off on the trail," She surmised sadly. "I'll have to go back."

"My dad already caught us once," He reminded her. "If he catches us out there again it won't be pretty." Alex snatched up her house keys from Stiles' cup holder and smiled at him.

"Don't worry," she assured him, grabbing the flashlight he had thrown in the backseat earlier. "I'm not taking you with me. I'll grab Scott, find my necklace, and we'll be gone before anyone knows." Stiles rolled his eyes before hopping back in the Jeep.

"Call me if you need me," He stressed. "I'll make sure your window is cracked so you can get in without dad noticing." Alex nodded and waved as he drove off towards home. Sighing, she turned on the flashlight, pointing its dim ray of light into the dense black canopy of the forest.

Slowly, she made her way into the inky blackness cursing herself the entire way. The clasp had been weak, and she had been meaning to get it fixed. Something always came up. Her mother had given it to her the day of the fire, telling her it would protect her wherever she was, just as it had protected her.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered the last day she saw her mother alive. She had come home from school, her mother's bright smile greeting her from the front porch as it always did, one arm wrapped around the man she loved. The two of them were always together, ever since her father had died, but it never bothered her. Alex was happy that her mom found someone to love again.

The couple used to tell her bedtime stories. Tucking her into her warm bed at night while whispering stories of magic and adventures. Of creatures and monsters. Even at fourteen, she loved to hear about the lessons of bravery and hope. Her favorite had always been about the Gypsy and her prince. A story her mother had been telling her since she was a baby.

Alex stopped at the sound of rustling leaves. Fog had risen around her adding a quiet mystique to her current surroundings. She thought she could feel a pair of eyes watching her. Looking around, the redhead realized she was alone. Shaking off the paranoia, she trained her flashlight on the forest floor, sweeping the light back and forth in an organized grid. The problem was that the pendant, a wolf's head carved from oxidized copper, would easily be missed in the autumnal foliage.

Immersed in her mission, Alex was unaware of the stampeding herd of deer hurtling her way. By the time she noticed it was too late. Dropping the light, Alex closed her eyes, bringing her arms up to protect her face. One moment she was waiting for the onslaught of serious injury and the next she felt herself wrapped in a warm tight embrace. She stood crushed against the chest of her savior as the onslaught of deer continued to stampede by. It wasn't Scott, whose body lacked the size and build of the man she was currently wrapped in. The scent was familiar though. Pine and leather and something else she couldn't put her finger on.

Her rescuer released her. The scene around them safe. Alex took a step back before looking up. The smile she had been wearing quickly faded into overt disbelief.

"Are you okay?" His voice was gruff, deep. Deeper than she remembered. Alex's emerald eyes widened in shock as she took a step back unsure of what she was seeing and if it was real.

"That's impossible," She whispered, mostly to herself. The man that stood before her gave her a worried frown. "You're dead." His brow furrowed in concern, but she could tell he was surprised by the information.

"Alex." He whispered her name, taking a small step towards her. Her heart was thudding in her chest like a jackhammer. Her breath quickened with every step he took. Gone was the awkward high school boy she had known. Replaced by a confident, tall, well-built man whose look of concern elicited a small sob from her lips.

She reached a hand out to touch him, snatching it back in surprise when it came in contact with the soft leather of his jacket. None of this made any sense. He had died in the fire. It was the only reason she could think of that he never called or wrote. Never checked on her in the hospital.

There was no denying the fact that the man in front of her was real. Alex felt frozen. As if time had somehow stood still with them at the center. He took one last step towards her before drawing her into his chest. He breathed in her scent.

Lavender and vanilla. After all these years she still smelled the same.

"Derek." It came out as a choked sob. Her head was spinning. Her thoughts racing a million miles an hour. She couldn't seem to control her breathing as she sobbed helplessly against his warm broad chest. Six years of pain and loss bursting to the surface.

The next thing she knew darkness overtook her…