Hi all! Here's my 100th revision. It was all self-forced, I tried to get back into writing this story and realized how much my style changed in a year. I figured it was time to re-edit it until I felt like I was back in the groove.
Well, here goes. As always, all I own are my OCs.
"Lock it, lock it!" Scott cries out as I sob into Stiles's shoulder.
"Does it look like I have a key?" Stiles snarks back, one arm wrapped around me comfortingly.
"Grab something!"
"Like what?" I break apart from them and realize I'm still holding the chain. I loop it around the door handles as tightly as possible, clicking the lock back into place.
"Nice work." Stiles kisses my forehead, and Scott takes my arm. Just then something rams into the door, and I look up to see the alpha banging against it, blood red eyes staring into me. I yelp and it disappears.
"Where'd it go?" Scott asks, and Stiles pulls out his flashlight. Seeing nothing we back up, and Scott looks over at us. "That won't hold, will it?" I shake my head.
"Probably not." Stiles verbally answers. We exhale, but run to the nearest classroom when we hear a howling coming from inside the dark school.
"Desk, the desk!" Scott offers, and the boys start to move it into the doorway.
"Shh, shh, stop it!" Stiles whispers, holding out his hand. "The door's not gonna keep it out." He whispers.
"I know."
"I hate your boss." I nod in agreement with Stiles, closing my eyes as I watch Derek bleeding out playing out over and over in my head.
Bright eyes, bright eyes, bright eyes. Ready or not, here I come, bright eyes.
"What?" Scott asks, turning to Stiles, who huffs.
"Deaton, the alpha? Your boss."
"It can't be." Scott argues.
"Oh, come on, Scott." I growl out, getting a look from him. "He disappears, and then seconds later that thing shows up and kills Derek?"
"That's not convenient timing?" Stiles adds.
Scott just shakes his head. "It's not him."
"He killed Derek." Stiles reminds him, looking at me apologetically. "We may not have liked him, but he was important to Ricky."
"No, Derek's not dead." I look up at Scott in shock. "He can't be dead."
"Blood spurted out of his mouth, okay? That doesn't exactly qualify as a minor injury!" Stiles argues, and I look down at my hands. My left had just held Derek's five minutes ago. And now he's gone. He was… he meant something to me. Even though I hardly knew him he meant something. "He's dead, and we're next." Stiles finishes.
"Okay, just… what do we do?" Scott asks, just as panicked. I sigh and open my eyes, standing straight and strong, though my voice shakes.
"We survive. We work together. We live. And we beat this son of a bitch." I state, and they look at me.
"No, we have to get to my Jeep, we have to get out of here!" Stiles argues, turning back to Scott. "And you seriously think about quitting your job."
Scott runs over to the windows and tries to open it, but Stiles and I stop him. "No, they don't open, the school's climate-controlled." Stiles tells him.
"Then we break it."
"Which will make a ton of noise. But I like your enthusiasm." I sass at Scott, though there's none of my usual heart in it.
"Then we run. We run really fast." We all look out the window. "Really fast." A moment passes, and Scott and I both tilt our heads, but the former speaks. "Stiles, what happened to the hood of your Jeep?"
"What do you mean, nothing's wrong."
"It's bent, Stiles." I tell him.
That gets a reaction. "What, dented?" He moves closer to the window.
"No, she means bent!" Scott corrects.
"Wh-what the hell happened?" Stiles asks. Just as he's about to ask more, something crashes through the window, shattering it. The boys dive over me, crushing us to the wall. We look over in shock.
"That's my battery." Stiles remarks, getting angry. He starts to stand, but we pull him down.
"Don't!"
"We have to move." Stiles tells us, and I nod.
"He could be right outside." Scott whispers.
"He is right outside." Stiles argues back. We breathe heavily, and Stiles pulls me into him.
"Just let me take a look." Scott tells him, creeping up slowly to stare out the window. He looks around for a few seconds.
"Anything?" I ask.
"No." He looks down and takes my hand.
"Move now?" Stiles asks.
"Move now." Scott agrees, and we carefully walk out the room. Stiles flashes his light around. Scott tries to lead us one way, but Stiles stops him.
"No, no, no. Somewhere without windows."
"Every single room in this building has windows!" Scott argues.
Stiles looks at him. "Or somewhere with fewer windows."
I get an idea. "Guys, the locker room!"
"Yeah." Stiles nods and the boys take my hands, pulling me with them.
"I meant the girls' locker room!" I whisper harshly when I realize we're going to the boys instead.
"Now isn't the time for your womanly sensibilities, Patricia." Stiles admonishes. We open the door and sneak in, gently shutting it.
"Call your dads." Scott tells us.
"And say what?" I ask. "'Hey, dad, we're trapped in the school because a freaking alpha is trying to kill us.'?" I snark.
"Then tell them it's a gas leak, a fire, whatever. If that thing sees the parking lot with cop cars, it'll take off."
"What if it doesn't?" Stiles asks him. "What if it goes completely Terminator and kills every cop in sight, including our dads?"
"They have guns." Scott reminds us.
"Yeah, and Derek had to be shot with a wolfsbane-laced bullet to even slow him down. You remember that?" Stiles tells him, and I feel another pang in my heart at the mention of his name.
"Then we… we have to… we have to find a way out and just run for it." Scott offers.
"There's nothing near the school for at least a mile."
I look at him. "Derek's car." I mutter.
"That could work." Stiles agrees. "We go outside, we get the keys off his body, ugh, and then we take his car."
"No." I argue firmly. "We take his body with us. I am not leaving him outside to be found by a complete stranger."
"Fine. Okay." Stiles nods. We start walking to the door, but just as Stiles is about to open it Scott stops him.
"Wait."
"What?"
"I think I heard something."
"Like what?"
"Shh, quiet." Footsteps approach and we step back, holding onto each other. Scott reaches over me to lower Stiles's flashlight. "Hide." We nod, and Stiles jumps towards the nearest locker, making a lot of noise as he gets in.
"Dammit Stiles!" I whisper-yell, but Scott tugs me and I roll my eyes, thankful that my small frame can easily fit in. It smells though, and I cover my nose. God, what is wrong with guys? Have they never heard of Febreeze?
I stare out the small slots on my tiptoes, watching as the door handle turns, opening. Something comes in and I move back, covering my mouth more, my other hand pressed against my chest.
Suddenly Scott screams, and so does another man. I peak out and see the night janitor, who appears unimpressed by us. "Son of a bitch!" He yells. We try to calm him.
"Quiet." Scott says.
"Quiet my ass, what the hell are you trying to do, kill me? The three of you, get out."
"Just listen for half a second, okay?" Stiles tries to reason.
"Not okay. Get the hell out of here right now." He shoves us out of the locker room, Stiles still arguing with him.
"God, just one second to explain."
"Just shut up and go." There's a roar and then the man is tugged back, the door closing with him. We watch in horror as blood sprays onto the glass, the man's face pressed against it. He screams for help and Stiles moves Scott away from the door, leading us far from the man's yells.
We run all the way to the back entrance, shoving as hard as we can. "What the hell?" Stiles asks. We push the door harder, and groan when we manage to see what's blocking us.
"It's a dumpster." Scott announces. A bit incredulous.
"He pushed it in front of the door."
"To block us in." Scott agrees with Stiles, then looks at me. "Can you get through that?"
I make an offended noise. "I'm not that small, man." He makes a face.
"Sorry. But in case you hadn't noticed, the alpha just killed the janitor!"
While we argue, Stiles rams his body against the door, trying to make it budge. Scott grabs him and we run from the door, turning down another hall. "I'm not dying here. I'm not dying at school!" Stiles panics.
"We're not going to die."
Stiles lets out a breath and throws up his arms in frustration. "God, what is he doing? What does he want?"
"Me!" We look at Scott. "Derek says it's stronger with a pack."
"Yeah, great. A psychotic werewolf who's into 'teen wolf'. Tha-that's beautiful." Stiles gripes.
Scott stops us in our tracks, looking out the hallway windows. We watch the alpha stare at us with its red eyes before it runs along the roof, coming towards us. We run in the direction we came from, just as it crashes through the windows and bounds after us. Scott opens the nearby staircase door and we run down, exiting at the ground level of the school. We dash through some more doors and travel down one more flight before we end up in the basement, near the boiler room. I wince as we pass the Sewer Lair, not even wanting to consider the damage the alpha could do to my sanctuary.
We hide behind a set of janitorial lockers, Scott peeking over as growls are heard nearby. The roars get louder and closer.
"What?" Stiles mouths to Scott.
"Go." Scott mouths back to us. We run, but more growls are heard.
"Alright, we have to do something." Stiles says.
"Like what?" Scott asks him.
"I don't know. Kill it, hurt it, inflict mental anguish on it - something." Glass shatters in the distance. Stiles reaches into his pockets, his keys making a noise.
"Shh, stop it!" Scott pleads.
Stiles just ignores him. He pulls out his keys and tosses them by another room. As soon as the alpha runs in, we come forward and lock him in, fighting against his shoves on the door. "The desk, come on, the desk!" Stiles calls to Scott, who does as he asks. We smile, but then the alpha roars.
"He can't…" Scott trails off, the three of us relieved we've temporarily trapped him.
"Alright." Stiles says. The alpha bangs on the door and we all jump. "Come on, get across. Come on!" He yells at Scott.
"What?" Scott waits a moment, then quickly joins us on the other side, trapping me between the two boys.
"This is starting to feel a little too much like Harry Potter." I nervously ramble. "I'm obviously Hermione. Scott's Harry, and Stiles is Ron." The two of them look at me like I've lost my mind. "What?"
"Really? A Harry Potter reference at a time like this?"
"Well, no one else was gonna say it!" I argue back at Stiles. He shakes his head but goes closer to the door.
"What are you doing?" Scott asks.
"I just wanna get a look at it." He explains.
"Are you crazy?" I ask, probably looking like a maniac myself.
"Look, it's trapped, okay? It's not gonna get out." Despite our protests Stiles climbs onto the table, shining his light through the grated window. "That's right, we got you -"
"Will you shut up?"
"I'm not scared of this thing." He tells Scott, just as the alpha slams its paw against the door. Stiles scatters off the desk and we back away. "Not scared of you!" Stiles calls out. "Right, 'cause you're in there, and we're out here." He tries to tell himself. "You're not going any-" There's a crashing sound in the room, and the ceiling above us creeks, pieces of it falling down.
"Oh, we're so gonna die." I say, right as the boys whisk me away.
We're navigating our way through the boiler room when Scott stiffens, the three of us stopping in our tracks. "Wait. Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?" I ask, nervously looking around.
"It sounds like a phone ringing." Scott answers. His tan face goes pale. "I know that ring tone. It's Allison's phone." He tears off, presumably following either her scent or her heartbeat.
"What is Allison doing here?" I ask, but there's no answer. Scott grabs Stiles's phone and calls his girlfriend.
"No, it's me. Where are you?... Where are you right now?... Where? Where are you exactly?... Get to the lobby. Go now!" He hangs up, and we run to the aforementioned meeting place. Allison is waiting for us, but before she can say anything a panicked Scott asks, "Why did you come? What are you doing here?"
She looks confused. "Because you asked me to."
"I asked you to?" Allison holds up her phone, and over her shoulder I read the text.
Meet me at the school. URGENT. - Scott.
Scott looks at her in surprise, and she looks back at him with a nervous expression. "Why do I get the feeling you didn't send this message?"
"Because I didn't." She looks back at me, asking the same thing with her eyes.
I shake my head, making a pleading face. "He really didn't. His phone's still broken." She turns back to him, more scared.
"Did you drive here?" Stiles asks.
"Jackson did."
I groan, and Scott says, "Jackson's here too?"
"And Lydia, what's going on? Who sent this text?" Allison freaks out, but her phone rings so she answers it. "Where are you?" The door behind her opens quickly, and in comes Jackson and Lydia, the latter hanging up her phone.
"Finally." She sighs. "Can we go now?" Allison nods.
The alpha thuds above us, still hidden in the vents. The others jump, and I remember something. Reaching into my pocket to pull out my switchblade. "You've had that this whole time?" Stiles asks.
I nod. "Sorry. Panicked."
"Run!" Scott orders, and we do so. I run behind the heeled Lydia, my strawberry blonde friend pulling me with her as Jackson holds her arm. The ceiling breaks and down comes the alpha, chasing after us as we bound up the stairs. I keep gripping my knife as we run into the cafeteria.
Stiles and I stand by the windows, looking at them nervously. The blinds might be down, but the alpha can still find us. We turn as the others start blocking the door, Stiles trying to stop them. I join in, but they ignore us in favor of barricading us in. When they stop and step back, we manage to get their attention.
"Hello! Okay, nice work. Really beautiful job everyone. Now, what should we do about the 20-foot wall of windows." We both gesture to them, and Scott groans.
"Can someone please explain to me what's going on because I am freaking out here." Allison turns to her boyfriend, practically in tears as her voice shakes. "And I would like to know why. Scott?" He groans again and walks away, standing at a table and hunching over it. The others wait for an answer, Scott looking at Stiles and I. Realizing no one is going to talk, I make to step forward, but Stiles's voice stops me.
"Somebody killed the janitor."
"What?" Lydia asks in a small voice.
"Yeah." Stiles reconfirms. "The janitor's dead."
"What's he talking about?" Allison panics. "Is this a joke?"
"Wha-Who killed him?" Jackson asks.
Lydia begins to freak out more. "No, no, no, no. This was supposed to be over. The mountain lion-"
"Don't you get it? There wasn't a mountain lion." Jackson tells her.
"Who was it?" Allison demands, on the brink of tears. "What does he want? What's happening? Scott!"
"I-I don't know!" He answers. "I just, if-if we go out there, he's gonna kill us."
"Us, he's gonna kill us?" Lydia asks, Jackson holding her closer.
"Who? Who is it?" Allison asks us, and I sigh, about to reveal the big secret. But Scott stops me, and I swear to God I almost stab him.
"It's Derek. It's Derek Hale." I stumble back and walk away, turning to stare out the window.
"Wait, Derek killed the janitor?"
No, you dumbass. I want to tell Jackson. It's a giant-ass werewolf who wants Scott to join his pack because guess what, Whittemore, werewolves are real!
But I don't. Instead I stare at my blade, growing angrier and angrier as Scott blames Derek for the deaths of all those slain by the alpha, until I blow up and turn, punching him in the face. Everyone shouts in disbelief, Stiles rushing to grab me as I lean towards my other best friend. Scott looks at me in shock, clutching his cheek. "You goddamn liar." I whisper. "You coward." He starts to get angry, but I don't back down. I punch him again and storm off.
"Where-where are you going?" Lydia calls, worried. I turn to look at the group, glaring deeply at Scott.
"I'm out."
"You-you'll die! Didn't you just hear what Scott said?" Allison asks, worried for me. I glower at her.
"Scott is a goddamn coward. He's a liar."
"Is this about Derek? I know he was an ex -" Allison tries, but I stop her.
"I can't- I can't do this right now." I keep walking, but someone takes my arm. I turn to see Jackson.
"Look, I know he isn't your ex." I look at him in shock because he's whispering rather than exposing me. "I know you probably only told Allison that to protect her."
"You don't know me."
"I do." He insists. "God, Lydia doesn't shut up about you. Even without all of her lectures, I've seen how you act around the Testicle Twins enough to know you've got a protective streak a mile long." He veers back on topic, just as freaked out as the rest of us. We both breathe heavily. "If Derek's the killer, and you know him, and he knows you're alone, he'll come after you first! I'm not looking forward to picking up those pieces when you end up murdered."
I shake my head, removing myself from Jackson. "It isn't him."
He sighs, clearly believing me to be delusional. "Fine. Go out on your own. Good luck. But if you die, just know you're going to make a lot of people sad, including my girlfriend. One of your best friends." He bites out, reminding me. I just blink then blankly return to my goal, opening the side door.
"Patricia?" Stiles asks, tears in his eyes as he walks past Scott to look at me.
"I'm sorry. If I don't make it… I love you Holmes. I'll try to lead him away from you." Before they can stop me I run out, only relying on my anger. "Come on, you big freak." I growl, turning my knife in my hand. "You're about to meet one very pissed off girl."
It's different, hunting for the monster rather than running from it. If my friends and Scott are going to survive, someone has to lead it away. I hear panicked footsteps running through the hall beside me and groan. "Hey, asshole!" I yell, as soon as a door slams shut. Something growls in the distance. "Yeah, you. C'mon, you freak." I run down the hall, further from whatever classroom the others are hiding in. I feel something huge chase after me and run down the hall, leading the alpha in a bizarre pattern. I fall to my knees just outside the AP Bio classroom, when the monster leaps above me, claws at my throat. I suck in my breath and stab up into his side, nearly gagging as blood spills onto my hand. The alpha roars in pain and seems to scent me. His head falls back, confused red eyes on me before he leaps off the blade, his back claws scratching me in the ribs as he goes. I cry out in pain and struggle to stand, exhausted and wounded.
All I can think is how dumb I am. God, what have I done? What did I let myself do? No matter how angry I was at Scott, I shouldn't have left. I'm just a human.
I whimper and touch the scratches on my side, but they don't feel deep. It could just be the shock. Or maybe I'm lucky, like Domino from the Deadpool comics. Yeah. I hold onto that thought like a lifeline. I can make it. I can live through this. I'm going to live through this.
Gathering as much strength as possible, I slowly stand up. It takes a few moments, but then I'm limping down the hallway, keeping a lookout for my friends. "He-hello?" I ask, the closer I get to a few hushed voices. I doubt the alpha is having a conversation. "I-I know I ran off. B-but…" I trail off, faltering in front of the chemistry classroom and falling to the ground with a pained moan.
I hear some arguing and the door opens. I watch as Jackson comes forward, shock written all over his face as he bends down to scoop me up, carrying me over to a nearby table. I moan and feel someone removing the bloody knife from my hand. I turn my head to see Stiles wiping it with paper towels as best he can, shoulders shaking.
"Oh my God. Oh my God, what did Derek do to you?" Allison asks, leaning over me and crying.
"Was-wasn't Derek."
"Patricia?" Jackson asks, and I feel someone fluttering around me, lifting my shirt and gently cleaning my wounds. I arch my back in pain, crying out.
"Not… not Derek. Derek isn't the killer. Sc-Scott lied. Stiles. Stiles." He rushes over to me, taking my bloody hand. "I got it… in the side…"
He looks at me in shock, running his hands through my matted hair. "What?"
"Most of the blood… is his. The scratch… the scr-scratch -"
"It's a superficial cut." Lydia tells him, her voice strong but shaky. "She luckily won't require stitches, and since I cleaned it first it won't become infected."
I grin at her, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek. "There's my smart girl. Missed you, Lyds. Don't be stupid."
She tears up and covers my hand with her own. "You'll be okay, Tricia." Jackson and Stiles get me into a seated position, careful of my wounds. Allison grabs some gauze and medical tape, passing it over to Lydia who gets to work covering my injuries first. When she's finished I'm helped off the table. Allison quietly wets some towels and wipes the blood from my body.
"I'm so sorry, I don't have an extra shirt." She whispers, and I wipe the tears from her eyes.
"Hey, hey, it's fine. D-did you guys c-call anyone?"
"I called my dad, then yours. Both went to voicemail." Stiles tells me. I nod. "Here." He pulls off his sweater and offers it to me. He and Jackson turn as the girls help me cut off the shirt I'm wearing and slide the sweater onto me, zipping it up.
"Thank you." They walk me over to where the others are standing, and Stiles pulls me into him, kissing my forehead.
"I don't get this." I look over at Allison. She sits on the table, legs crossed and fingers over her mouth. "I-I don't get why he's out there."
"Scott went out there?" I ask, glancing around with a frown when I realize who's missing.
She shakes her head. "I can't stop my hands from shaking." Jackson grabs her shaking limbs and holds them tight, drawing a confused look from me.
"It's okay. It's okay. It's gonna be okay."
She nods and smiles. "Okay."
I step away from Stiles and cross over to Lydia, holding her in my arms despite the pull from my left side. She looks over to Mr. Harris's desk and the chemicals that sit on it.
"Jackson, you handed me the sulfuric acid, right? It has to be sulfuric acid, it won't ignite if it's not."
"I gave you exactly what you asked for, didn't I?" He argues harshly, his tone so much different when speaking to his girlfriend than when comforting Allison.
Lydia's voice goes soft, but I hear the hurt under it. "Yeah, yeah I'm sure you did."
"Why did you guys need sulfuric acid?" I ask, confused.
Lydia blinks down at me. "Self-igniting Molotov Cocktail."
I nod, impressed, before holding her closer.
Suddenly, a loud roar begins to shake the school. Lydia covers her ears and Jackson groans, falling to the floor in pain and grabbing at the back of his neck. He struggles to stand when it ends, and Lydia comes up to him.
"Jackson?"
"I'm fine."
"Let me see -"
"I said I'm fine."
She shakes her head, then turns to us. "The scratches have been there for days, he won't tell me what happened."
"As if you actually care." Jackson whispers harshly to her. I frown at him and hold Lydia's hand once more
"Where's Scott? He should be back by now." Allison mutters, breaking the awkward silence. There's a sound of something breaking, and we all rush to the door, banging against it. "Scott!" She calls. "Scott!"
"Where's he going?" Lydia asks.
"Scott." Allison tugs on the door. "Scott, Scott, Scott!"
"Stop!" Lydia calls. "Stop!" Allison turns. "Do you hear that? Listen." In the distance, we can hear sirens approaching. I slouch in relief, holding my side. Lydia holds me up, changing out positions and brushing back my wayward blonde locks. We run to the window and watch the cops pull in, along with an ambulance. Stiles nudges me and points to his Jeep.
The Camaro's gone.
I start to tear up and he pulls me into his chest, making soothing noises as he holds me.
My dad worriedly stares at me as the EMTs dress my wounds, relieved that nothing permanent happened. He still looks angry, which is understandable, but kisses my forehead. The other EMTs take care of Dr. Deaton, who remains unhealed which means he isn't the alpha.
I watch the Sheriff lead Scott and Stiles out of the building, asking, "Are you sure it was Derek Hale?"
My dad looks at my glower and holds my hands, helping me down. "Yes." Scott answers, and I feel anger burning in my chest towards my supposed best friend.
"I saw him too." Stiles adds and my heart breaks. I barely glance their way as my dad leads me to the car.
"Hey, Patricia?" The Sheriff walks up to us, face worried. "What did Derek do to you?"
"Nothing. I was running and sliced myself."
He gives me a look like he doesn't believe me, and my dad shakes his head. "Noah, please. She's probably in shock. I'm going to take her home." He nods, then the Sheriff comes over to hug me carefully.
"Feel better. Let your dad know if you remember anything. When you're ready, I need to take a statement."
"Okay." I don't even look at my best friends as I climb into the passenger seat of my dad's car, and he pulls out of the lot, driving towards home.
"When we get back, your mother and I want to talk to you." He finally says.
I stare out the window. "Me, too."
"God, what the hell were you thinking, kid? First you break into the school, then you run off to play hero and get hurt? I thought I taught you better than that!" He yells, but I barely flinch. "What, you've got nothing to say?"
I turn to him, eyes narrowed. "I've got plenty to say, dad."
"Don't you dare use that tone of voice on me. What you did was irresponsible, and you're lucky we aren't grounding you on account of you being injured." I scoff and look back out the window.
"Whatever. At least I'm not a liar."
My dad abruptly stops the car. "What are you talking about?"
"I know, dad." I look up at him, eyes narrowed. "I know about the Hales, and our family. I know great-grandma Diane was special. And I know you've lied to me my whole life."
I look back out the window, and my dad restarts the car. The rest of the ride is spent in silence, until we pull up to the house.
"Your brothers went to bed crying. You should see them before you go to your room." My dad says, staring out the front window.
"Okay." I quietly agree, guilty that I worried Chase and Clark. I open the door and carefully get out, following my dad to the front door. My mother opens it, glare in place, but it fades when she looks at my dad.
"Honey." Is all he says. His tone does the rest and she nods in understanding, locking the door behind her.
We sit at the kitchen table, the two adults facing me.
I decide to go first. "I'm sorry I worried you. We weren't supposed to be at the school for long."
"Why were you at the school?" My mom asks, arms crossed.
I sigh. This is it. I'm done hiding things from them. Then maybe they'll stop hiding things from me.
"Do you remember that night, when Stiles, Scott and I went to the woods?"
"I'm sorry, what?" My mom asks, my dad clearly having kept his word about not telling her what happened.
"Hang on, Scott was there, too?" My dad asks, and I nod.
"Yes. Well, we left him there because we didn't want him to get in trouble. Only he was bit."
"'Bit'?" My mom asks, as though she doesn't understand what I'm talking about. I give her a look.
"By the alpha werewolf, the same one that's been running around Beacon Hills killing people, starting with Laura Hale. But you two knew that already, didn't you?"
They exchange a look, and my mom sighs. "Derek told you, didn't he?"
"He wouldn't have had to if you had just told me the truth from the beginning." I shoot back, arms crossed.
"Whoa, hang on a second. When did Derek Hale become your friend?" My dad asks.
"I caught Chris Argent bothering him one night. One of his 'friends' broke Derek's car window, so I made him pay up for damages."
"Nice, how much?" My mom asks, ignoring the look from my dad. Despite the situation, I grin.
"I think the bill was $1000. I'm not really sure, I just told the mechanic to call the number on the card, and Mr. Argent would deal with it."
"That's my girl." She smiles proudly, then rolls her eyes at my dad. "What?"
He just laughs and looks at me. "Okay. So you befriended Derek."
"It would've happened sooner if the Hale fire hadn't happened and you'd let me meet the pack. The same one you had been a part of for years." I look up at them.
My dad shifts in his seat. "Yes? It would've."
I narrow my eyes. "Are you asking, or are you telling me? And what about the fact great-grandma was a Löwenmensch? Would you've told me that, too?" I ask. My dad runs a hand through his short blonde hair, green eyes boring into my blue.
"Eventually." I scoff. "Honey, you're human -"
"No, I'm not." I shake my head, and they look at me in surprise, gripping each other's hands.
"What does that mean? Did the alpha bite you?" My mom asks, worried.
"No. But Derek said there's something wrong with my scent. Something different. Not sick, just different. Different… different than before..." I trail off, and the next thing I know I'm standing up, my chair having fallen to the ground. "No. No, it can't - you didn't… this whole time?"
My dad leans forward, confused. "Honey? Hey, what's wrong -"
I laugh, a little hysterically. A lot hysterically. "Bright eyes. He kept calling me 'bright eyes'. After the first time, he just kept saying it. Over, and over, like it was natural. Like a habit."
By now, my parents have caught up with my line of thought. There's remorse in their eyes as they stand, but I back away the closer they get, until they realize it's better if they stay where they are. "I've been having dreams. I thought that's all they were, but… but no, they're memories. And it all started after I met Derek. Again." I growl, refusing to glance away from my guilty parents. "I knew him, didn't I? Before the fire? God, I'm so stupid. I guess I just didn't want to believe my life's been a lie these past six years. Of course I knew the Hale pack. Why else would everything before I became best friends with Scott and Stiles be so hazy? I knew them. I thought my best friend had moved away, but that wasn't the whole truth. Most of them died. I knew the Hales, and Derek -" I cover my mouth, trying to hold the sobs threatening to escape. "How? How'd you do it? How'd you make me forget?"
"Patricia -" My mom begins, tears threatening to escape. "It was for your own good."
"How?!" I nearly scream.
I watch as my dad shakes his head, frustration filling his eyes. "We just did. Alright? Look, it's been a long night -"
"Don't you dare patronize me -"
"I promise we'll talk more tomorrow. Just give your mom and I a chance to figure out how to say it. Please, that's all I'm asking. I know it's not fair, just try to remember…" he exhales slowly, "every decision we made the night the Hale pack died was to keep you alive."
With one last glare their way, I stomp up the stairs. I take a break by the twins' room, remembering my father's earlier words, and my own fear back at the school. I'm quiet as I open the door and kiss Chase and Clark on the cheek. They start to wake up, and I have only a second to brace myself before Clark is dragging me onto his bed, Chase following after us. I groan when the latter grabs onto my left side but keep it together, hugging the twins back just as tightly.
"Mommy said you got hurt!" Clark cries. I shush him and kiss his forehead again, Chase rubbing his head into my other arm.
"I know, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. But I'm fine!" I smile despite the pain and they release me, still crying a bit. "Tell you what. Tomorrow, I'll pick you up after school, and we'll go to the cafe. Okay?"
"Okay." Chase mutters, yawning. I help them back into bed, kissing their puffy cheeks and brushing my hand through their short blonde hair.
"Sleep tight, Double Trouble." I smile at them, carefully shutting the door behind them before slowly making my way upstairs, groaning in pain. When I get to my room I throw my door open and shut it behind me.
Everything comes rushing back and I sob, nearly collapsing. If that wasn't enough, a familiar voice nearly gives me a heart attack.
"Bright eyes." I jump and turn to see Derek awkwardly standing by the closed window, curtain closed as well, shirt covered in blood but otherwise alive.
"Oh my God." I whisper, and before he can say or do anything else I'm running over to him, crying as I wrap my arms around his neck. "I-I thought you were dead."
"For a moment, so did I." He finally says, wrapping his arms around my waist. I groan when he squeezes a little too tight and he instantly releases me. "What happened?"
"... It's possible I went after the alpha..."
"Why the hell would you do that?" He growls.
I sigh. "Because Scott - and now Stiles - pinned the janitor's death and the others' deaths on you. And I thought you were dead, and I was so angry, so I decided to go after the thing myself. I stabbed it in the side when it tackled me down." He looks angrier the more I explain, but reaches out a hand to grab my mine. "He-Derek, I think he knows me. Or at least my scent. Because he just pulled himself off my knife and ran away. The scratches were accidental. At least, I think they were."
"Scratches?" He asks. Ignoring the fact I'm only wearing my black sports bra I unzip Stiles's sweater and show him the gauze. He instantly takes them off, going down on his knees so he can better see them. "They aren't deep."
"I know."
He shakes his head and stands. "You don't understand. If an alpha scratches deep enough, it can change you." He sniffs at me. "You just smell like blood. The alpha's blood, and yours."
"Can't you track the blood?" He shakes his head.
"It's the same as scent. It's different when we're shifted." I nod, and he redresses my wounds. "Do they hurt?"
"No." He narrows his eyes. "A little." Derek huffs, head tilting as I reach up to cup his angular cheeks. "Derek?"
"What is it?"
"I knew you. Before. Why didn't you tell me?"
His green eyes widen in understanding, jaw dropping a little. "You… how do you…?"
"I, uh, don't remember. But my parents - I figured it out. I guess everything finally just snapped into place, and got tired of ignoring my own instincts just because everything would get more complicated." I'm distantly aware of the tears sliding down my cheeks, but choose to focus on Derek's shining orbs instead. "I knew you. Of course I did."
He finally nods, his shoulders sagging with relief. He lets out a little laugh, gently pulling me closer. "When you were in the second grade, some kids in your class made fun of your dress. It was pink and sparkly -"
"Gross." I grimace, and Derek grins.
"Yeah, well, you loved that dress. Those little assholes didn't, though. You always hung out with, uh, my little sister after school. Cora. She was your best friend. Our moms used to joke that you were their replicas." He takes a deep breath before continuing, rubbing my biceps comfortingly. "She wasn't in your class that year, something that made you both absolutely miserable." I sniff, wishing I could remember the girl. "Well, that day, you were a damn wreck. I could smell the tears before I even saw you. You stormed into the house and started screaming at the top of your lungs. Your great-grandma couldn't even get you to calm down. You nearly made us all deaf." I groan and cover my face with my hands, closing my eyes as he removes them. "Well, I wasn't the most patient person back then. I just grabbed my glass of chocolate milk and threw it onto your dress. I don't know why, but it got you to stop." He nudges me and I slowly open my eyes, mouth pursed when I realize how close he is. "You looked at me, just like you are now. That was the first time I called you 'bright eyes'." I sniff again, but keep my blue orbs open as Derek wipes away my tears. "I really missed you, bright eyes. Every damn day."
"I wish I knew I missed you, too." I confess under my breath.
He nods in understanding, a small smile gracing his tired face. "You found me. And now you know you had someone missing you the whole damn time."
I laugh, then wince when I realize he's still covered in blood. "As sweet as this is, you should probably get cleaned up." I wince again when I twist away a little too sharply, only for Derek to take my hand. I watch his veins turn black and start to get woozy. "What-what are you doing?"
"Taking your pain." I look up at him, awe on my face. "Perk of being a werewolf." Derek whispers, carefully moving me onto the bed and under the covers.
"I thought it was the apparent regenerative healing factor." I mumble tiredly.
I can barely make out his head shaking, Derek looking completely amused. "Well, that. And helping the person you care about."
"You care about me?" I ask, becoming more tired as the pain leaves me. "That's nice."
"More than I probably should."
I hum, my eyes sliding shut. "Don't forget to shower." I mutter, a soft laugh lulling me to sleep.