[1x11; Formality]

Olivia stood impatiently outside of Scott's house, ringing the doorbell for the third time in a minute. She rubbed her right side again, trying to stop the tingling that had been there since she woke up, and sighed heavily, annoyed with how long Scott was taking to answer his door.

At last, the door opened, revealing a bewildered and annoyed Scott McCall.

"Finally!" she exclaimed, walking past him into the house. "How are you? Are you okay? Are you all healed up? Thank God you answered the door, it was taking forever."

"Olivia, what are you doing here?" Scott asked, confused. He didn't remember inviting her over to his house…

"Oh," Olivia blinked. "Well, Stiles called to tell me that my dad went on a date with your mom and then he said that you were shot trying to rescue Jackson from Derek, which—by the way—I don't think he was going to kill him," she shook her head. "Jackson's a dick but not to the extent of murder. So, I wanted to see how you were doing and I also have a bad feeling."

Scott just stared at her, trying to absorb everything that she said. He had never seen Olivia Hale ramble before and he was pretty sure that she didn't take a breath throughout the whole thing.

And she was worried…about him?

"Scott?"

"Right, okay," Scott nodded. "I'm okay, Deaton helped me out."

"Dr. Deaton?" Olivia furrowed her eyebrows. "As in your boss who you guys thought was the alpha for a minute?"

"Yes, that one," Scott confirmed, turning toward his staircase. "Come on up."

"Okay…"

"So, yeah, apparently Deaton knows about werewolves," he explained further as they walked up the stairs. "He didn't really say anything else, but when Peter came to the vet, he was complaining about the fact that he couldn't get in."

"Hmm," Olivia hummed. "Did my dad say anything else?"

"He's threatening to go to Allison," Scott told her, leading her to his room. As they walked in, Olivia waved at Stiles, who flailed spastically at the sight of her. "Oh, by the way, Derek's missing…"

"I know."

"You know?

"Yeah," Olivia nodded. "I already have a freak-out and now I'm ready to find him."

At first, when Stiles told Olivia about Derek being missing, she was frantic. Her anxiety, which she usually had a handle on and pushed deep down so she wouldn't have to think about, flared and she shed a few tears, but she steeled herself. If she was in Derek's position, he would do anything to find her.

Olivia would do the same to him.

"I'll help you," Scott declared. "I just have to find my phone…"

Olivia and Scott spent the next half-hour turning his room inside-out to try to find his phone. So far, they had no luck, and the fact that Stiles was sitting in Scott's desk chair just watching them was getting on Olivia's nerves.

"Are you going to help?" she snapped at him as she ducked out from under Scott's bed.

"I am helping," Stiles stated, holding up his phone. "I've been calling Scott."

"Yeah, that's really helpful, Stiles," she snarked at him. "I'm so glad you're here. We wouldn't be able to do it without you."

"I'll just ignore that 'cause I know you get cranky when you're worried about someone," Stiles said, taking the higher road by not bickering with her.

"Call again," Scott told Stiles as he threw one of his shirts out of his closet that he was digging through.

Stiles sighed heavily and watched as Olivia walked over to Scott's desk to search there. "It's not here," he said flatly; Scott ran from his closet to look through his blanket. "Okay, so you lost your phone. Why don't you just get a new one?"

"I can't afford a new one," Scott dropped to his stomach to look under the other side of the bed that Olivia hadn't checked. "And I can't do this alone. We have to find Derek."

Scott jumped back to his feet and walked into his attached bathroom; Olivia finished searching his desk and went over to his dresser.

"Well, you're not alone. You have us," Stiles pointed out, gesturing between him and Olivia. "And didn't you say Derek walked into gunfire? He sounds pretty dead—ow!"

He rubbed his head where Olivia threw a stress ball at him and glared at the petite brunette.

"Don't talk like that," she scolded him with a fierce glare.

"Argent's plan was to use him to get to the alpha," Scott added, still in the bathroom. "they're not gonna kill him."

"All right, so then just let them do what they're planning, you know?" Stiles shrugged. "They use Derek to get Peter, problem solved—ow, would you stop throwing shit at me?"

Olivia, who had thrown a notebook at him this time, pursed her lips at him, still glaring.

"The problem isn't solved if Peter's going after Allison to find Derek," Scott walked out of the bathroom. "I can't protect her on my own, which means we either find Derek first, or—just help me!"

Stiles caught the foam basketball that Scott threw at him and dropped it on the floor.

"You know, you probably lost it when you two were fighting," Stiles guessed. "You remember that?" he reminded Scott. "When he was trying to kill you after you interrupted him trying to kill Jackson? Are you starting to see a pattern of violent behavior here?"

"He wasn't going to kill anyone," Olivia spoke up, crossing her arms over her chest as she sat at the end of Scott's bed.

"And I'm not letting him die," Scott added, sitting in his armchair by the window.

Stiles sighed. "Could you at least think about letting him die for me?"

"Stiles!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Stiles told Olivia, shrinking under the heat of her eyes.

Scott turned toward his window, looking to his front yard to see his mom pull up.

"What?" Stiles asked him curiously.

"My mom just got home from work," Scott told him, listening to the voicemail that Melissa was recording for Peter. He sighed sadly when he heard her start to sob into her hand.

"Is she okay?" Olivia asked, giving him a concerned look. "What's she doing?"

Scott frowned, leaning his forearms on his knees. "Crying."

Stiles gave him a sad smile. "Scott, you can't protect everyone."

Scott shook his head in disagreement, remembering the speech Stiles gave him that day in detention. "I have to."

The next day, Stiles hovered near his locker in the locker room, watching as Scott and Coach had a private, yet very loud, conversation in front of his office. Scott was so upset when Coach told him he couldn't go to the winter formal that he started yelling and waving his hands around.

"What do you mean I can't go to the formal?"

Coach rolled his eyes. "McCall, you're failing my class and two others," he explained. "They told me to cut you from the team but I told them I'd sooner cut off my last remaining testicle than cut my best player."

Stiles grimaced; Coach talked about his one remaining testicle way too often.

"So the compromise is that I can't go to the dance?" Scott asked in disbelief.

"Yeah."

Scott narrowed his eyes. "Then I quit the team."

Coach laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. "No, you don't. And, if you show up to the dance and I see you there, I'm gonna drag you out by your teeth."

Stiles, having heard the whole conversation, walked up to his best friend as Coach went in his office. "So, what are you gonna do?" he asked quietly. "I can protect her, I guess. I can probably borrow a gun from my dad without him noticing."

"No."

"Yeah, you're right," Stiles agreed absentmindedly. "I probably shouldn't have a gun."

"No—I mean, yes, you shouldn't have a gun, but I meant that I have another plan," Scott said, looking over at Jackson, who was minding his own business by his locker. "Two words: Jackson and Allison."

"Well, that's actually three words. And you know he's not gonna—" Stiles said Scott as he walked away. "And you're walking away. Okay, I'm coming."

He bounded up to Scott's side and slammed Jackson's locker shut, gaining his attention.

"I need you to take Allison to formal," Scott demanded right away.

Jackson blinked at Scott like he was out of his mind. "You," he gestured to Scott and then to himself. "want me to take her to the formal."

"I don't want you to," Scott corrected him. "I need you to."

Jackson scoffed. "Fuck you," he looked at Stiles and added, "You know what, fuck you too. In fact, fuck each other."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Hey, you know he saved your life, right?"

"He left me for dead."

Scott looked at him, appalled by his nerve. "I got shot for you."

"Yeah?" Jackson raised an eyebrow at him. "Show me the bullet wound."

Scott pressed his lips together. "You know it healed."

"Convenient," Jackson hummed sarcastically.

"Just do it for Allison, okay?" Scott tried to convince him. "She's in serious danger. I'm talking around-the-clock danger. She needs someone to keep an eye on her at the dance."

"Have her dad do it," Jackson suggested. "He's the one actually equipped to handle this."

"How am I supposed to do that and keep him from finding out about me?" Scott asked incredulously.

"Not my problem."

Jackson went to leave but Scott stopped him by slamming a hand against his locker to block the way.

"You're her friend, too," Scott reminded him; Jackson rolled his eyes. "You are. All that time that you spent with her to get to me, you can't tell me that you didn't get to know her and like her. It's Allison—it's impossible not to like her. You can't tell me that you don't care if she gets hurt."

Jackson furrowed his eyebrows. "What if I get hurt?"

Scott straightened up. "Then it's worth it."

Jackson narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "Not to me."

He pushed Scott out of the way and shoved Stiles into the locker to get through them.

"Well, I shouldn't say I told you so—" Stiles said as he and Scott watched Jackson walk further away. "—cause it's not strong enough. How about I'm always right and you should listen to whatever I have to say and never disagree ever for the sake of your wolflihood?"

"I'm not done," Scott declared, making his way over to Jackson once again.

Stiles sighed. "You're not done. Okay—oh, my God!" he exclaimed as Scott shoved Jackson against the locker room door, showing off his golden eyes and sharp fangs as he growled in his face. "Oh, look, he's scared."

Scott had, indeed, scared Jackson into agreeing to take Allison to the winter formal. He was a mess of nerves, sweating up a storm, as he approached Allison at her locker while Scott and Stiles watched from a few feet away.

Jackson leaned against the locker next to Allison's, giving her a fake and clearly nervous smile.

"Hey, don't worry," Stiles clapped Scott on the shoulder. "I'll still be there."

Scott shook his head, watching as Allison and Jackson walked away from her locker. "I'm still going."

"Is that such a good idea?" Stiles asked as Scott turned to face him. "Do you even have a date?"

"Not yet."

"Do you have a suit?"

"Not yet."

"Do you have a ticket to the formal?" Stiles questioned him. "A ride there?"

"No and no."

Stiles sighed. "So, you're gonna ride your bike to a dance that you're not even allowed to go to, without a date, a suit, or a way in," he listed, amused. "with werewolves and werewolf hunters all out to kick your little werewolf ass."

"Yeah," Scott smiled. "You gonna help me?"

Stiles grinned. "Fuck yeah."

"Nothing's wrong," Allison insisted as she, Olivia, and Lydia stepped onto the escalator heading up to Macy's second level. "I just—I have a lot on my mind."

Olivia frowned at her, concerned. "Well, are you okay?"

Allison looked at her and Olivia thought that the taller brunette was somewhat hesitant with her. She hadn't been wildly enthusiastic when Olivia and Lydia reminded her that they were going shopping for their formal dresses after school, and from the distance Allison gave her, she assumed it was because of her.

Finally, Allison smiled. "No, I think I'm fine."

"You could smile at least," Lydia commented. "Ever hear the saying, 'Never frown, someone could be falling in love with your smile?' Smile, Allison," she grinned. "I'm buying you a dress."

"I have to admit, as far as apologies go, that's more than I expected," Allison told her before turning to Olivia. "Now it's your turn, Liv."

Olivia gave her a confused look as the three of them stepped off the escalator. "For what?"

"I'm asking you for a favor," Allison declared. "And, since my ex-boyfriend kissed you too…"

"I didn't ask him to but I guess I can do you a favor," Olivia conceded. "What's the favor?"

"Perfect," Allison smiled. "I need you to cancel on whatever dumb, roided-up jock Lydia set you up with and go with someone else to the dance."

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "And who is this person you're speaking about?"

Allison simply turned, looking in the direction of the perfume counter. Olivia followed her gaze, narrowing her eyes when she saw Stiles sniffing various perfumes. She fought back a smile when he accidently sprayed one right in his face, causing him to sneeze heavily.

"You want me to go to formal with Stiles?" Olivia asked, looking back at Allison.

Allison grinned and even Lydia looked amused. "Like Lydia said, Liv—don't frown, someone could be falling in love with your smile."

As she and Lydia broke into giggles, Olivia sent them a light-hearted glare before walking over to Stiles.

It wasn't that Olivia didn't want to go to formal with Stiles because as far as dates went, she knew he'd be a good one. It's just that she felt weird around Stiles sometimes; her stomach would flip and flop whenever he smiled at her and she actually enjoyed his company—which was weird for her, since she only had Scott, Jackson, and Danny as guy friends and she barely tolerated hanging out with them too much.

"So," she said as she approached Stiles, gaining his attention. "I heard we're going to the dance together."

"Um, yeah," Stiles scratched the back of his neck. "Unless you don't want to. I mean, it'd be cool and I really wanna go with you but if you don't want to go with me, that's cool, too. No pressure or anything. I—"

"Stiles!" Olivia interrupted his rambling. "It's fine. I will go to the dance with you."

"Really?" Stiles' eyes widened in happiness. "Great!"

"Yeah…"

"Yep…"

"Oh, this just turned painfully awkward," Olivia and Stiles turned to see Lydia staring at them, her arms crossed over her chest. "Stiles, right?"

Olivia raised her eyebrows at Lydia, shocked that she got his name right. She had always insisted on calling Stiles by the wrong name to assert dominance over him.

"Uh, yeah."

"You can carry the dresses we want to try on," Lydia declared, pointing at him. "Come on, we're wasting time."

Olivia and Stiles followed Lydia into the dress section; Stiles was immediately bombarded with two dresses.

"Liv, what do you think about this one?" Lydia asked, holding up a dress in a dusty-rose color.

Olivia smiled. "I like it."

Lydia placed it in Stiles' arms and continued on her way. Olivia shook her head, giving Stiles an amused look and started looking around the racks. She pulled a green dress and a purple dress before she saw a white one that caught her eye.

She got one in her size and laid it on top of the growing pile in Stiles' arms.

"So are you guys gonna try these on right now?" Stiles asked casually. "All of them? Because I don't think this is a twenty-four-hour Macy's."

Olivia laughed and gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it, Stiles."

"All right. I'm not worrying about it. No worries here."

"You're sure you don't mind that I catch a ride with you and Stiles?" Lydia asked Olivia, zipping up the brunette's dress. "What's-his-name said he'd meet me at the school."

"It's fine, Lyds," Olivia assured her. "You're my family and my very best friend, I wouldn't want to go without you."

Lydia beamed at her and then gave her a knowing look. "And you're nervous to be alone with Stiles."

"What?" Olivia laughed. "I'm not nervous. What makes you say that?"

"You've been chewing on your cheek," Lydia pointed out, walking over to the sink in Olivia's bathroom to check her lipstick. "You do that when you want to hide emotion. I'm assuming that you're nervous."

Olivia had to admit that Lydia was right about her anxiety but it didn't have to do with Stiles. They were friends, she was comfortable with him. She was nervous about what Peter was planning to do at the dance.

She wasn't going to admit that to Lydia, though, so she lied, "Yeah, okay, you caught me."

"I knew it!" Lydia handed her some red lipstick to put on. "I always catch you staring at him."

Olivia, who had been leaning toward the mirror to put on the lip color, spluttered. "I don't stare at him."

Lydia scoffed. "Yeah, you do and if you're not staring at him, he's staring at you," she hummed thoughtfully. "Actually, he's been staring at you for a while."

Olivia shook her head in denial; she didn't stare at Stiles. Lydia only thought she did because she was just making sure that Scott was okay at school. Where Scott was, Stiles was, so…

Olivia certainly did not look at Stiles too much; she only knew that the moles on his cheeks could have made out a constellation that looked like the Little Dipper and that his nose was tilted slightly up at the end. Or that his upper lip was slightly fuller than the bottom or his eyes looked like butterscotch and whiskey mixed together.

She didn't stare at Stiles.

"Whatever," she mumbled, going back to her task of applying lipstick.

Once both girls were ready, they took a cute selfie together to post to Snapchat. The picture showed off their dresses—Olivia's was white with silver gems on the shoulders and Lydia's was dusty-rose with a black sash—and their hair and make-up.

As soon as they slipped on their heels, they went downstairs where Natalie was waiting for them.

Except it wasn't just Natalie waiting for them; Stiles stood next to her, his mouth wide when he saw Olivia come downstairs.

He thought she looked like an angel and he was actually worried that he had died for a few seconds. She looked hot, sexy, pretty, and cute all at once—he was so lucky to be alive at the same time as her.

Someone out there in the universe was looking out for him because he just couldn't believe that he was going to formal with Olivia Martin.

Olivia smiled when she saw Stiles standing next to her aunt. He looked very handsome in his gray suit, black-and-white checkered shirt, and a silver striped tie. Olivia didn't want to admit it, but he was actually drool-worthy.

"You look beautiful," Stiles breathed when she stopped in front of him. "L-Like stunning."

"Thank you," Olivia flushed and reached up, straightening his tie. She vaguely heard a camera shutter but opted to ignore it. "You look great. I'm liking the pattern-on-pattern action you have going on."

"Thanks," Stiles mumbled, looking down at his tie. "My dad helped me."

Olivia laughed and Stiles beamed at her.

"Okay, pictures!" Natalie announced with a grin, breaking up their moment. "Let's get some in front of the fireplace."

Olivia, Stiles, and Lydia took many pictures at the insistence of Natalie. There were some with just Olivia and Stiles, Olivia by herself, Lydia by herself, Olivia and Lydia, Olivia, Lydia, and Natalie, and Olivia, Lydia, and Stiles. Sirius even got in a few pictures where the girls were careful that his nails didn't rip the fabric of their dresses.

Once Natalie was sure that her camera roll was full, they were allowed to leave.

"Thanks for letting Lydia come along," Olivia said as Stiles drove to school.

"Yeah, thanks," Lydia added politely, though she would have drove herself if Olivia hadn't insisted on her going with them.

"No problem," Stiles nodded. "Who's your date anyway?"

"Some senior named Charlie," Lydia shrugged.

"Jackson doesn't like him because Charlie was named swim captain instead of him," Olivia informed Stiles.

"Ah," Stiles said understandingly.

The school had stars reflected on it as they pulled into the parking lot and students in dresses and suits walked up the sidewalk to the gym entrance. Stiles parked near the front of the lot and parked, quickly turning off the Jeep.

He was out of his seat and within five seconds, opening Olivia's door for her.

"Thanks," Olivia said gratefully as she stepped out, straightening out the skirt of her dress.

Lydia climbed out behind her and sighed, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. She looked up and smiled when she saw Jackson and Allison walking toward them.

"Jackson," she greeted her ex-boyfriend as Olivia and Allison exchanged waves and smile. "You look handsome."

"Obviously," Jackson smirked arrogantly. "It's Hugo Boss."

He walked away—Allison reluctantly following him—without giving Lydia any compliments back.

Lydia watched him go. "I don't care," she declared, turning back to Olivia and Stiles. "I don't want compliments. I will not fall prey to society's desire to turn girls into emotion, insecure neurotics who pull up their dresses at the first flattering remark."

"Well, I think you look beautiful," Charlie, the senior swim captain, spoke up, walking over to them.

Lydia rolled her eyes and started walking toward the gym. "Let's just go."

Olivia chuckled as Charlie gave Lydia a wide-eyed look and scurried after her into the school. Stiles offered her his arm and she took it, allowing him to lead her into the dance.

Twenty minutes into the dance, Lydia had abandoned Charlie and had joined Olivia and Stiles at their table. They hadn't danced yet but Olivia was fine with that—the most she danced was with Lydia in one of their bedrooms when they were stressed and they followed Grey's Anatomy's advice to dance it out.

It was often that Olivia's dance moves made Lydia collapse with laughter.

The slow song they were currently listening to ended and the live band struck up another one, this time with a faster beat. Stiles tapped his foot with the beat and looked over at Olivia who was pointing Danny and his boyfriend out to Lydia.

"Hey," Stiles nudged her to get her attention. When her cobalt-blue eyes landed on him, he summoned his courage. "Do you wanna dance?"

Olivia grimaced at the dance floor. "Pass."

"You know what? Let me try that again," Stiles stood up and faced Olivia, leaning down so their eyes were level. "Livvy, get off your cute ass and dance with me now."

Olivia gaped at him for a few seconds, a little impressed with his show of dominance, but ultimately shook her head. "No, it's okay. I'm good."

Stiles sighed. "Olivia, get up. You're gonna dance with me," he demanded; Olivia pressed her lips together. "Look, I-I've had a crush on you since the second grade."

Olivia looked at him in shock; she had no idea that he was into her that way.

"You're a bitch sometimes and you can be way too blunt, but I know that you don't like to show emotion because you're afraid to be vulnerable and that's okay," he continued passionately. "because I've seen how caring you are to the people you love. I know that you're secretly a nerd who has more comic books than I've seen in one house. I know that you're one of the smartest people at our school and that one day, you're gonna go off and create the cure for cancer because you're so fucking brilliant."

Olivia flushed, her stomach doing that flippy thing it does sometimes in Stiles' presence. She couldn't believe that he knew so much about her—she guessed that there was more he knew, too, but he just didn't have the time to say it. It made her feel special and not like the girl who lost her family to a fire at the age of nine.

When it came down to it, Olivia felt guilty. She didn't know little things about Stiles, like what his favorite movie or book was, or his favorite food. She didn't know what he did in his free time—and he knew that about her.

But, she did want to know those things. She wanted to know who Stiles Stilinski was outside of spastic movements and sarcastic comments.

"There's already a cure for cancer," she mumbled finally, practically feeling Lydia's encouraging look on the back of her head.

Stiles straightened up in shock. "What?"

"I said there's already a cure for cancer," Olivia repeated herself, standing up and taking his hand. "but cancer makes a lot of money, so…"

Stiles blinked at her. "Wait, are you saying you believe—"

"I thought you wanted to dance?" Olivia asked playfully, pulling him out onto the dance floor.

Stiles laughed in celebration and raised his hand, twirling her underneath it.

"I'm a horrible dancer," she admitted loud enough so he could hear over the music.

"Me too!" Stiles exclaimed, putting his hand behind his head so he could do the sprinkler. "Just go with it. Who cares what people think?"

Olivia smiled, deciding that he was right. She held her hands out in front of her and moved them around, doing the cabbage patch. She laughed when Stiles started doing the running man, impressed that he could actually pull it off.

"I saw this on New Girl, watch," Olivia said, putting her hands up by her face and forming them into beaks. She opened and shut them slowly before moving her arms to create wings. "It's the chicken dance, but you slow it down."

Stiles laughed loudly and copied her, both of them in sync. Olivia could see people watching them out of the corner of her eye, but she found she didn't care for once. It was a party and she was here with Stiles, who was a great guy. If she wanted to do the chicken dance, she was going to do the chicken dance.

"McCALL!"

Olivia flinched as Coach shouted when he passed them, pointing at Scott from across the gym. Scott ran down the bleachers and tried to disappear in the crowd but Coach followed his every move.

"Looks like Coach found Scott," Stiles commented as they both turned to watch the spectacle.

Olivia gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"He's not supposed to be here," Stiles told her. "He's on academic probation."

Olivia hummed and watched as Scott pulled Danny out onto the dance floor. Coach stomped up to them and started yelling; the band stopped playing and everyone turned to stare.

"McCall!" Coach yelled. "You're not supposed to—what the hell are do—what the hell are you doing?"

"Yes, Coach?" Scott asked innocently, pulling Danny closer to him.

Olivia snickered, impressed with Scott's improvisation.

Coach looked around, noticing the judgmental looks everyone was giving him. "Okay," he laughed. "Hold on, you—I was just saying he's not supposed to—I mean, I wasn't saying that he shouldn't—" he rambled nervously. "You guys don't think—You don't—I was—Just dance, everybody. Dance, it's a party!"

Coach walked away, still nervously laughing, and the music started up again. Everyone started dancing to the slower song while Olivia and Stiles awkwardly stared at each other, not really knowing what to do.

Finally, Stiles decided to take a chance; he slowly wrapped his hands around Olivia's waist, waiting for her to object. When she didn't, he pulled her closer to him and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

They swayed side-to-side and moved around in a circle, much like what the other students were doing.

"See, this isn't so bad," he murmured in her ear; goosebumps erupted on the skin of her neck and shoulders.

"No," she agreed, resting her forehead against his shoulder and breathing in his delightful scent. "it's not."

They danced for another song, enjoying being close to one another, until Olivia pulled away. She had noticed that Lydia wasn't at their table anymore, and she was growing worried. She just had a bad feeling.

"Are you okay?" Stiles gave her a worried look, wondering why she pulled away.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I just—I need to find Lydia. She's not at the table and I'm worried."

"Okay, I understand," Stiles smiled. "Do you want me to come with?"

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek. "If you don't mind?"

"Of course not."

Stiles took her hand and led her off the dance floor, weaving in and out between couples dancing. They left the gym, intending to look in the bathrooms for Lydia, when they ran into Jackson.

"Jackson, have you seen Lydia?" Olivia asked, taking in his appearance; his shirt was rumpled, his tie undone, his eyes red. "What happened to you?"

Jackson's lips wobbled and he gulped noisily.

Olivia frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I-I was out behind the school," he stammered. "and I-I w-was out—"

"What happened?" Stiles questioned him, a sinking feeling in his gut. "Jackson, what did you do?"

"I told Argent about Scott," Jackson blurted out. "I'm sorry but it's okay because he said that they wouldn't hurt him!"

"Jackson, the Argents are the ones who killed my mom!" Olivia raised her voice, unable to believe that Jackson would do something so stupid. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I-I didn't know, Liv."

"Wait," Stiles spoke up, getting her attention. "If the Argents are here…"

Olivia gasped in realization. "That means that my dad is too."

Tingling erupted in her left side and she winced at the borderline painful sensation. A brief flash of Lydia's face filled her mind and though she was confused, there was a sense of something foreboding blooming in her chest.

"Lydia!" she gasped and took off running.

Stiles started following her, wondering what the hell was going on. Why had she said Lydia's name so suddenly and take off? It didn't make any sense.

Stiles realized that they were heading to the lacrosse field before Olivia did; the stadium lights beamed on one-by-one, and they both sped up, fear making their hearts beat faster.

Olivia entered the stadium behind Stiles, who was a faster runner, and gasped when she saw Lydia in the middle of the field. A figure was walking toward her, a figure that Olivia very much recognized.

"LYDIA!" she screamed and broke into a sprint, her heels sinking into the grass. "RUN!"

Lydia turned at her cousin's voice and that allowed Peter to attack. He tackled her to the ground, piercing her right side with his claws, and then bit down on the left side of her waist. Lydia screamed loudly but by the time Olivia and Stiles dropped to the ground in front of her, she was unconscious.

"Don't kill her," Olivia begged, sobbing, as she looked at her father with hatred. "Please."

"Of course not, sweetie-pie," Peter reached out to cup her cheek, causing her to flinch and close her eyes tightly. "Just tell me how to find your cousin."

Stiles looked between Olivia and Peter. "What?"

"Tell me how to find Derek Hale," Peter repeated calmly.

"I-I don't know that," Stiles shook his head, trying to calm his quick heartbeat. "How the hell would I know that?"

"While you are clever, Stiles, you aren't the one I'm talking to," Peter drawled, looking back at his daughter. "Olivia, tell me what you know and I won't hurt sweet little Lydia. Tell me the truth or I'll rip her to pieces."

Olivia sobbed again, her chest heaving, and she opened her eyes. "I don't know for sure," she cried. "I swear, I don't know."

"TELL ME!"

Olivia flinched away. "Okay, okay," she conceded, her voice shaking. "I've been thinking about it and I think Derek took Scott's phone. He's smart—I think he knew he'd be caught."

"By the Argents?" Peter asked quietly.

"Yes."

"And?"

"I told you, I think he took Scott's phone!"

"Why?"

"They all have GPS now," Stiles spoke up, glowering at Peter. "So, if he still has it and if it's still on, you can find him."