Chapter 23: The Lion's Den

Ok. Ok. Don't panic, don't panic! I'll escape from this. Of course I will. It's not like I'll be trapped in this…contraption, with no hope for release forever…right? No, of course not. Don't be silly. …They'll just kill me first. …Great.

Every heavy pant brought dirt and broken leaf debris into Melanie's mouth only for her to try and spit it back out a second later. It didn't help that her arms and legs were tied up behind her back and having a boot being pressed down against the side of her face wasn't ideal either. Kate had gone somewhere, probably off to gloat about catching a beta, and left one of her hunter friends to do her dirty work. And in this case "dirty work" meant making a mold of half her face in the dirt.

"I think this is a little excessive," Melanie managed to grunt. "You already have me tied up. I'm not going to do anything from down here."

The man laughed and out of the corner of her eye she saw him rest his gun against his shoulder. "A likely story. You say that and then you use your claws to break out and attack me."

"But I don't have claws! Really! Take a close look! I know my nails are long but that's just due to overall laziness to clip them. It's a real drag. Almost as annoying as shaving my legs," she rambled while straining at the ropes around her wrist. "….Not that they're exceptionally hairy or anything like that. I'm not a werewolf. You have the wrong girl."

"That's what they all say," the man scoffed. "And then you all go around killing and turning everyone you can get your claws on."

"No, really! I'm not a werewolf! I'm not the beta you're looking for—ouch!" The boot was removed from her face and Melanie's head was yanked back once again when the man grabbed at her hair. A painful jolt shot down her neck as it was yanked to the side.

"You could make this a lot easier on the both of us and tell me where the beta we're looking for is, then," the man pointed out. He removed the gun from his shoulder and pressed the tip against the side of her head. The cool tip of the gun's muzzle against the side of her head made her heart leap into her throat. A hunter's gun was pointed at her head. She swallowed the sour saliva that had seeped into her mouth. Geeze, Mel, you really need to learn to shut up sometimes. She blew out a slow breath, doing her best to calm herself down despite the throbbing at her head and in her chest synched up.

"I…I don't know," she replied, squirming beneath him. "But it's not me."

"Then what are you doing at the Hale House of all places?"

"Morbid curiosity?" she offered. Emphasis on morbid, she internally added at the feeling of him jabbing the muzzle of his gun against the side of her head. "It's a Beacon Hills myth, the whole werewolf thing. I mean, not so much anymore considering who you are and…and why you've captured me but it's stories we've all heard as kids! Monsters running around and creatures in the night and all that stuff. With the whole mountain lion thing going on I got nosey."

She briefly glanced back as best as she could to see if she had worked out the knot in the ropes tied around her wrists. The sight left her with sagging shoulders and a huff of frustration due to the redness left on her skin due to the effort. This sucked more than the rope burn she experienced during gym class last year when she tried to catch her fall. Coach Finstock nearly passed out and pissed his pants from laughing so hard at the sight of her ripped up and bleeding hands.

"And anyway, if I were a werewolf," she continued, doing her best to keep the strain out of her voice and her body as still as possible, "don't you think you would've executed me by now? Get it over with and wipe your hands clean? Isn't that what you people do? You hunters?"

"But that'd make it too easy and where's the fun in that?" the man asked. She could almost see the smirk on his face but she definitely heard it in his voice. "Besides, lucky for you, I have a code."

"'Treat others how you'd like to be treated'?"

Finally, he let go of her hair and she winced when her head slammed into the ground. "Not that kind of code, kid."

Her eyebrows furrowed. What kind of code could that be? Not execute their captured prey without an audience? At least they were kind about no one missing out on the show. She had been overwhelmed by so many voices when she got captured; Kate's being the loudest of all of them. But as she was tied up the amount of voices changed until only one was left and when her eyes finally adjusted and she got her eyesight back everyone else was gone. Except for her lovely little friend who was a tad bit gun happy. It was almost as if he were overcompensating for something, she couldn't help but think. After all she didn't know anyone else who waved that big thing around as often as he did, pointing it at whoever and whatever he liked. Which tended to be her, unfortunately.

Pain pooled in her lower back, her arms were stiff, her muscles screamed in pain, and blood rushed in her ears. How much longer were they going to hold her like this? Would her father come and rescue her again? Would anyone come and help? No one knew where she was, least of all Scott. Having expressly told her not to go to the Hale House it was probably the last place they'd go and find her. How long did they have to wait to file a missing person's report? And her mother….Melanie pressed her lips together to keep in the sob that was trying to rise up her throat. Would this push her over the edge and leave her father alone, left to pick up the pieces of a shattered family?

God, why couldn't I just listen? She swallowed the lump in her throat and took a deep breath (avoiding the dirt this time.) If you're going to get out of this you have to keep calm. Even she almost snorted at that, it was a bad joke. But if she wanted to see her mom and dad again, if she wanted to see Scott and Stiles again, if she wanted to see Isaac, if she wanted to see Erica

She scrunched up her nose and mentally forced herself to focus. There had to be some way out of this. So what if she was tied up like a pig at the county fair? They got out eventually, right? She could too. WWSD? What would Scott do? The answer, as obvious as it was, slammed into her brain and now her heart beat with suppressed apprehension as she quickly came up with a plan. She just hoped it worked.

She began humming, feeling the vibration in her throat as she tried to get the pitch she needed right. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on the pattern she wanted to go for, all the while trying to ignore the burning in her arms and legs. She wasn't sure how people could go camping; the ground wasn't comfortable at all.

"So you're just going to stand around here waiting to kill me?" Melanie asked. "That's bound to get a bit boring."

The man snorted. "Something tells me you won't let that happen."

"Time flies when you're having fun, right?"

The man didn't reply this time. She tried to look to see what he was doing but he had stepped out of her line of sight. For a second she heard an odd crackling sound and only a second later she felt her body seize up; searing pain coursed through her body and her heart rate accelerated and her bones ached and it felt as if thick, hot water slowly flowed right beneath the surface of her skin. Her breath halted, trapped in her chest as her lungs burned and screamed for her to take a breath.

The pain seeped away and was replaced with an odd numb feeling. Her heart continued to race in her chest and her rapidly blinking eyes struggled to focus on one thing. They rested on a bird in the distance; she could see every feather, every speck of color on its wings, every line on its clawed feet. Drawing in a loud, gasping breath it was cut short by her new round of coughing due to dirt flecks flying down her throat. Finally, when her breath stabilized she groaned, "Ugh….that wasn't fun." She coughed once more and blinked hard to let the tears in her watery eyes roll down her cheeks. Glancing back, she saw that he was holding something in his hand; electricity crackled at the top. "What the hell was that, a cattle prod?"

"Just a little insurance to be sure you don't try to change on me," the man replied.

Melanie pressed her lips together. This was what the werewolves had to deal with just for being something that was different? Being hunted and tortured and attacked for nothing? Even if they were minding their own business and doing their own thing? She gritted her teeth and a fire burned in her belly. As soon as she got out, as soon as she escaped she was going to be sure that the hunters got a taste of their own medicine. It just wasn't right; no matter how justified they felt they were. It just wasn't right.

Another crackling sound reached Melanie's ears. She tensed, waiting for another electric shock but it didn't come. Instead she saw the man reach to his hip and pull out a walkie-talkie. He pressed his thumb into the side and simply uttered "What?" before letting go of the button.

"Dan, the target has to be moved. I'm coming to help," a somewhat muffled voice said.

Instead of replying "Dan" shoved his walkie-talkie back into its holster and didn't hide the annoyance on his face. He put the shock stick back into his pocket, reached down, and grabbed the back of Melanie's shirt. He yanked her hard and plucked her up off the ground in one tug. Her feet hit the ground but her legs were so weak that she fell straight down to her knees and received a kick to the back of her legs as she was yanked back up once more.

The Hale House loomed overhead, it's darkened and broken windows stared down at them as they stood by and waited. Waited for a gunshot, a flying arrow, a blow to the back of the head, a howl, a roar, something. Melanie's palms flooded with sweat and a bead of it rolled down the side of her face. A twig snapped. The bird in the distance flew away, disappearing into the thick branches above. The steps shifted over to shuffles as a man decked in all black stepped into the clearing. He, too, was carrying a large gun and had a particular limp in his stride.

"Has she been any trouble?" he asked.

"It's all taken care of," Dan replied. "Where are we moving her?"

The man's eyes flicked over to Melanie's face and then back over to Dan's. "It's a surprise," he replied sarcastically. "Untie her legs."

"What if she runs away?" Dan asked.

"Shoot her," the man replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. The simple two words made Melanie's blood run cold but she kept her face blank. The man grabbed onto her elbow as Dan knelt to remove the binding from around her ankles. She took a hesitant step forward and nearly fell over again as she tried to get her muscles warmed up again. The two slung their guns around on their shoulders and grasped onto her elbows to lead her forward. Her feet dragged against the ground for the first few steps until her legs started to work again.

She slowly let her eyes scan the woods in front of her. Her mind seemed to move on fast forward, zooming through a course in the woods that would lead her back to her truck and back to safety. She plotted every fallen log, every branch, and every root that would stand in her way for her escape. She glanced to her left to see the stony face of the new guy and then over to the right to the equally stoic face of Dan. She quietly cleared her throat, pulled up a picture of Kate Argent in her mind, and focused.

"What d'you two think you're doing?" Kate's voice boomed from all around them. Dan and the other guy stopped in their tracks, nearly making Melanie fall down to her knees again.

"Wha—?" Dan uttered, his head turning this way and that.

"I said what d'you two think you're doing?" her voice repeated, much more angry than before.

"We're moving her like you wanted," the other man said, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he, too, looked around to try and find Kate. Between him and Dan Melanie was being tugged this way and that and she was thankful that her hair was covering her face or else she'd be given away.

"She's a girl, not a sack of potatoes. Treat her as such! Take off the ropes!"

"What do you think?" Dan asked, looking over at his partner. The other man stayed silent. Melanie's eyes swung back and forth between the two so much she felt like she was watching a tennis match. She chewed on her bottom lip and held her breath.

"….Do as she said. She calls the shots," the other man replied. The two men reached behind Melanie and started to work on the rope tired around her wrist. She nearly fell to her knees once more at the sense of relief that flooded through her as soon as the ropes loosened. She was going to be red and raw for sure but for the moment she didn't care. A bird approached, resting on a branch right above her head. It seemed to lock eyes with her and held her gaze.

A small smirk curled Melanie's lips. Pressure built up in her chest and the corners of her vision started to bleed a bright purple. Her chest swelled and she could feel the ropes loosen. The two hunters brushed them down her wrists and at the sting of the coarse material against her rubbed skin she opened her mouth and screamed.

A high pitched, hawk-like screech shot out of her throat and burst through the still woods. The hunters clasped their hands over their ears as the sound echoed and bounced around in the space between the trees. Closing her mouth to stop the scream, Melanie took the opportunity to grab Dan's shocker and whacked the other hunter across the face. She twisted the bottom to turn it on, whirled around, and stabbed Dan in the side with it, watching in satisfaction as he fell straight to the ground, twitching. She then swiftly stuck the poker into the other man's side and watched as he, too, began to convulse due to the electricity shooting through him.

Fighting the rush of…something that coursed through her she pulled her hand back, removing the shock from the man and twisted the bottom to turn the poker off. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she knelt by Dan and waited until he looked at her before she said in a rough but close imitation of Kate's voice, "Sorry, sweetie, but I like living a little bit too much to stick around." With that, she stepped over the two fallen men and ran as fast as her legs could carry her.

It wasn't long before she made it back to the car though it did take a little bit longer than it should have considering she took different paths to be sure she wasn't being followed. She threw herself over the hood of her truck and dropped a series of kisses atop of the chipped paint. It wasn't until she was behind the steering wheel and the truck rumbled beneath her that she paused and wondered why they hadn't taken her keys or her phone when she was captured. But that thought was fleeting as she pulled on the gear shift so hard she was surprised it didn't break off in her hand before reversing.

She has halfway on her drive back home when her hands started shaking. The shake quickly turned into a tremble as it rolled over her whole body. The steering wheel vibrated beneath her hands and her chest tightened, cutting off her breaths. She barely managed to pull over to the side of the road before she broke down completely: tears streamed down her cheeks, her chest burned as she tried to gasp for air, her hands shook, her fingertips tingled, and blood rushed in her ears.

It took a full ten minutes for her to finally calm down enough to continue her drive back home but even so her hands wouldn't stop quaking. She barely had her truck parked before she ran inside and threw her arms around her father. Only when she was nestled within his tight grip did she finally stop shaking.

She was safe.

# # #

Melanie didn't get much sleep that night. At her insistence all of the house lights were kept on and she sat atop of her bed with a tight grip on the stolen hunter weapon. Her eyes darted around at every sound she heard from the creaks of the house settled to Nova's dream-driven barking to the steady tick-tock, tick-tock of her clock on the wall. By the time the first rays of the sun added blue hues to the once blackened sky her eyes burned and she had to fight hard to keep them open.

She was sluggish as she went through the motions of showering, getting dressed, getting the lunch her father packed for her, and letting Nova out to use the bathroom. She grabbed a piece of toast on her way out and drove straight to the school due to Erica having texted her early that morning saying she had a doctor's appointment. It didn't surprise Melanie at this point; she practically lived at the doctor's office.

She let out a breath of relief when she got to the school but then hesitated behind the steering wheel as she looked around the parking lot. There was no sign of Allison's car and no sign of her father's car rolling through the carpool either, thankfully. Her shoulders dropped from her ears and the lump in her throat dissolved as peace settled over her. As long as she didn't run into Allison or the rest of her crazy family she'd be fine.

She joined the mass of students as they entered the school. She waved her way through the slow-moving students and headed straight for her locker. If she got to homeroom soon enough she could get some sleep in before the day started. She was surprised that she was still awake and managed to get to school in one piece. Perhaps it would have been better to stay at home but if there was any sort of chance of them tracking her down to her house where she'd have to fight them off alone she wasn't going to take it. Hell, if Rita Repulsa never attacked the Power Rangers during school the hunters and the Alpha wouldn't attack her at school either. At least she was banking on that hope.

She spun the dial on her lock and tugged on it, successfully popping it open. She threw her bag in, paused to yawn, and then gathered up her books for her first few classes. She shoved some pens into the spines of her notebooks and closed her locker door only to turn and scream at the sight of Stiles standing on the other side. Though where a normal startled scream would have ended her exhaustion-induced scream went on a few seconds longer than necessary, thus earning a very unimpressed look from Stiles as Scott shifted his weight from foot to foot. Finally she clamped her lips shut and cut the scream off which was rewarded by an eye roll from Stiles.

"Thanks, I really wanted to lose my hearing in my youth," he commented and then squinted as he peered at her. "You look like shit."

"As long as I don't smell like it," she mumbled in response, turning her attention back to her lock. She looped it through the hole and clicked it shut.

"No you smell…" Scott paused to take an audible sniff of the air and then a smile appeared on his face. "You smell like strawberries and vanilla and…and cookie dough. Smells really good, actually." She smiled her thanks and tucked her books beneath her arm. "I tried calling you yesterday."

She nearly dropped her books at that but managed to keep them in her grasp. Her eyes widened as best as her tired, burning skin would allow. "Me? Why?"

"To ask about Derek and see if you were okay," he replied. "I kept getting your dad."

"Oh. Yeah, I was a bit tied up," she replied, pausing to yawn. She almost laughed at her own joke; it would have been funny if it weren't so unfunny. It would have been funny if she hadn't had a gun pressed to her head and if her wrists weren't still irritated and she wasn't so tired and she wasn't so jumpy and and and and and and. She cleared her throat and continued, "Do you have any other ideas of where he could be?"

"No," Scott sighed, shaking his head. "We can't even reach him by phone or anything either."

"So, what, you're not even going to try and find him?"

"We can't."

Melanie scoffed. "You can. I know there are hunters out there looking for you too, but Derek's done a lot to help you. He put his life on the line for you a couple of times. You owe him that."

"But where would we start looking for him?"

"I dunno, around the school? He tends to pop up everywhere," Melanie commented a bit dryly. "He's a bit too interested in high school students if you ask me."

"And if you ask me its good riddance that he's gone," Stiles said, throwing his arms into the air in such a jerky fashion he almost hit a passing student across the head; a fact that seemed oblivious to him as he continued on his rant, "if it weren't for him and his family Scott wouldn't be like this and you wouldn't be like this. He's out of the picture. We don't have to worry about him. All we need to do is capture Peter to get Scott turned back and everything will be fine. Oh and stay alive, that's another important thing too."

Melanie pressed her lips together and Scott sighed. Even if Stiles didn't trust Derek he had to admit how helpful Derek has been. How could he just want to leave Derek behind, like he didn't matter? If it weren't for Derek Scott would probably be dead by now, killed by his uncle or by the hunters or anyone else that had a grudge against werewolves. Derek helped them a lot…in his own broody Derek Hale way. And he helped her too, he could have easily left her for dead in the Hale house when she showed up but he didn't. And she wanted to know why and that wouldn't happen if they couldn't find him; she always repaid her debts even if his uncle was the catalyst for her own issues. Who knew the supernatural could get so political?

"Look, let's just talk about this later," Melanie suggested. "We can come up with a decision then."

"Alright, but are you okay?" Scott asked, peering at her in such a way that it actually made her take a step back. "You can tell me if something's wrong."

And she almost did. She almost admitted that she had gone to the Hale House anyway to look around, she almost admitted that she had been captured, she almost admitted she had been tortured and that it was all at the hands of Kate and that Allison probably knew about it all but she didn't. She couldn't do that to Scott. She wouldn't be able to live with herself, crushing his hopes and his loyalty and his love for her, no matter how much it hurt. So she swallowed the lump in her throat, forced a smile and said with a shake of her head, "I'm fine. I just had trouble sleeping, that's all."

The homeroom bells ringing overhead made her jump and drop her books as the once sluggish students got jumpstarted with urgency to make it on time. Scott immediately dropped down and picked up her books whereas Stiles laughed at her misfortune. "Thanks," she mumbled when Scott gave her books back. "Also, can you do me a favor and check on Jackson for me?" she continued.

"Jackson?" Stiles repeated. "Jackson Whittemore? The Porsche Prince? The Butt-Chin Bastard? The Douchebag?" Melanie nodded. "Why do you want us to check on him?"

"Because he was brought to Derek's house and almost died. If Scott weren't there who knows what would have happened to him?" Melanie replied. "I just want to make sure he's okay."

"But why? He's nothing but an ass to you."

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Her mind went back to their last game that she played in: that look in his eye when she scored a goal and helped the team advance. That nod of acknowledgement that she was there and a part of the team and could help the team succeed. That nod of begrudging acceptance, but acceptance nonetheless, the only thing she had ever wanted when she set her sights on the team. He wasn't just an ass, he was a teammate.

"Yeah, well, that says more about him than it does about me doesn't it?" she replied evenly, lifting her strap higher up on her shoulder. The bell rang again, signaling for the rest of the students to hurry off to homeroom. She uttered a sigh, took her books from Scott, and bid them a short goodbye before rushing off to make it to her homeroom period.

She slipped in through the door before Ms. Morrell had a chance to close it on her and dropped down in her assigned seat. The sophomore class was split down the middle, separating their homerooms by alphabetical order by last name. She and the others in the class were sorted A through M and the other half of the sophomore homeroom was sorted N through Z. As she settled in her desk she took a quick scan around the room, spotting Lydia and Isaac but the desk next to Lydia's which Allison usually took was empty. Her muscles relaxed at the sight and she propped up her books to use as a makeshift pillow while waiting for her name to be called for roll.

She barely listened to the announcements that Ms. Morrell read off, instead taking the time for a quick catnap. Her body had a different idea of a catnap than she did because she found herself being jolted awake by the sound of a book falling to the floor and the sound of laughter shooting around the room. Her dazed state of panic made her widened eyes jump around the room and her body tense up a she half expected a hunter to come bursting through the door. But when she saw that it was just Ms. Morrell trying to wake her heat pooled in her cheeks and she slumped in her seat, offering up a quiet apology atop of the snickers that spread around the room.

Ten minutes later homeroom ended and Melanie made sure to avoid Ms. Morel's gaze as she slipped out of the room. It was bad enough that she fell asleep in homeroom but now she had to face her again for her French class within the next few minutes. It also didn't help that Isaac followed behind her, laughing all the way.

"It's not that funny," Melanie grumbled. "And thanks, Lahey, for not waking me up before Morrell caught me."

"I'd say sorry but I'm not," he said with a big smile, "I wanted to see how you'd react. Thanks for the entertainment."

"Oh I live to please, Mr. Lahey," she replied which was quickly followed by her pressing her elbow into his side to knock him off balance. He crashed into "And for my next trick I'll balance a ball on my nose and bark like a seal."

"Ladies and gentlemen, she can do it all," he gushed in a mock announcer voice. "Except….staying awake in class."

"Ha ha," she grumbled, rubbing at her eye. "I had a hard time sleeping, that's all. What with class work and lacrosse and formal stuff—"

"Are you going?" he asked, interrupting her. "To formal, I mean."

She laughed. "I kinda have to. I'm part of the committee. I need to make sure everything goes without off without a hitch and that the band plays the right music and that the food and drinks don't ever run out and no one from Devenford Prep crashes."

"Would you even get a chance to dance?" he pressed.

She blinked at his insistence but then gave a shrug of her shoulders. He was just being curious after all, being a part of the committee wasn't as easy as they made it look. "I'm guessing sometime between bathroom breaks and punch duty. But don't you worry; I'll still have time to cut a rug."

He snorted. "Whatever that means."

She lightly elbowed him in the side again. "You're going, right? If you say no I'm going to twist your arm until you do it. The more participation we get the bigger our next event gets to be. And think about our prom! I know it's not for two years but our senior prom could be the best prom Beacon Hills High ever had but the only way that will happen is if more people come to our formals."

He let out an exaggerated hum, his lips pursing at the effort. He paused by the door to their classroom, leaning against the doorway to look at her. Her eyebrows lifted as she stared back at him, wondering why exactly he was blocking her way in and looking at her like that. Like he was trying to see through her skull and into her brain, not that he'd find much; she suspected it was mainly filled with shiny things, smile emojis, candy, and lacrosse balls. Finally he clicked his tongue and said a little hesitantly, "I'll go only if you save me a dance."

"Sure, I think I can spare some time and pencil you in," she said with a teasing smile. She patted his arm and moved past him to enter the classroom only to flinch when she saw Allison sitting in the desk in front of hers. Almost as if she knew she was being looked at, Allison looked up and then smiled over at her. Giving a hesitant smile in return, she forced her legs to carry herself forward and to her seat. Okay, okay, don't panic. It's not like Allison knows anything that's going on. You're still fine. You're still safe. She's not some psycho hunter or anything. She's just…Allison.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Allison whispered as soon as Melanie sat down.

"You just did," Melanie pointed out, "but sure. What's up?"

"Do you maybe want to…come over for a bit?" Melanie paused in the middle of flipping open pages of her notebook. Her finger stalled beneath one page but not before the question caused her to scrape against the paper in her surprise. The sting from the small paper cut felt like fire on her finger but she ignored it as her blue eyes locked with Allison's brown ones. Why in the world would she…? "I was hoping maybe you could help me with some homework and we could just talk. Maybe you can stay for dinner."

And all at once the racing negative thoughts in her mind stopped and a wave of guilt crashed over her. Pity had nothing to do with this, she just needed help. Which surprised Melanie in a different sense, she always thought that Allison made good grades in all of her classes. She seemed like the Jack of All Trades type, found success in everything because she's, well, Allison. She became friends with Lydia in one day. She got Scott's attention in one day. She had people drooling over her and her beauty in one day. Allison was good at everything, until she wasn't. Was it bad to feel a sense of giddiness over that thought? Well, if it was, Melanie would be skipping her way down to Hell on that thought alone.

"Well, I have a SLC meeting after school—"

"After that, then. I can wait and then you can follow me home."

Melanie blinked at her insistence and played with the pen in her hands. Go over to the house that holds the one woman that captured her only a few hours before? Absolutely not! That was like walking into the lion's den. But even so she couldn't get her mouth to form the word 'no'. It was if it got stuck in her throat due to way Allison was looking at her. Her lip was pulled into her mouth and her wide eyes were filled with hope. She mentally cursed herself for being a sucker for doe eyes and muttered, "Alright, fine. Will your parents be home?"

"Just my mom," Allison replied. She then reached over the back of her chair to grasp her hand and gave it a little squeeze. "Thanks, I appreciate it. I just…really need to talk to someone and I thought you were the perfect person."

Melanie stopped playing with her pen and her eyebrows crinkled. This was…weird. This wasn't the Allison. Whatever it was that was bothering her had to be big to make her this…unsettled. "Is everything okay?" she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper as Ms. Morrell came in through the door, greeting them in French.

"I don't know," she replied and then turned around. The words were so simple and yet they lay heavy on Melanie's head. Whatever it was it couldn't be too important, or else she'd go to Lydia for the problem wouldn't she? So it couldn't be too bad. And they wouldn't try anything crazy in Allison's company, right? And she could always make an excuse and duck out before she actually had to stay and eat. Melanie licked her lips. Just to be safe she'd let Scott know where she was.

# # #

"No, no, no. I said oval shaped tables, not rectangle ones!" Melanie said with a shake of her head. She checked her clipboard to make sure her preference had been written down right and she nodded when she saw it was. "The rectangle ones only take up space. We need as much space as possible in here to fit everyone."

The two committee members she was talking to looked at her with wary eyes and she offered up a kind smile. "Look, we can just move them later. It's not a big deal we can…use these for the punch table instead so we can hold more cups." Liking her idea, she clicked the end of her pen and scribbled on the paper secure to her clipboard, drawing arrows to help illustrate her point. "How're you doing with the streamers?"

"We're just waiting for the ladder to put them up. Same with the confetti, although we need the net for that," one replied.

"Okay." Melanie made a check mark on her paper. "How about the strobe lights?"

"The janitor said he can get them up later on tonight. In here and outside," the other said.

"And they have star filters right?"

"Right."

"Good, good." She glanced up to be sure the disco ball was still in the ceiling and then made another check mark. "Alright, and do we know anything about the drapes?"

"Those aren't coming in until the end of the week," a squeaky voice called out. Melanie looked over her shoulder to see a few other committee members standing by the helium tank. Half inflated balloons were in their hands and filled balloons hug off string tied to the handrail of the open set of bleachers.

"The end of the week!?" Melanie repeated. "But the formal is at the end of the week! We need to have it all up before the dance actually starts or the ambience will be ruined!"

"I don't think that many people will care about a few drapes," a boy muttered, his squeaky voice caused his statement to sound more humorous than she guessed it was supposed to be.

"It's for the ambience," the girl across from him commented, stretching out the word. Adding her helium induced voice into the mix made them all burst into laughter and as agitated as Melanie was becoming that she was the only one who was taking it seriously she couldn't help but laugh. "Look, Mel, relax. We'll get it all done. Don't worry."

"I wouldn't worry if I wasn't missing a meeting tomorrow for the game," Melanie replied, rubbing at her forehead.

"Even if everything's not perfect, it's a dance. People are going to have fun either way. It's been a while since we had a decent dance around here."

Even so that didn't comfort Melanie as she went through her notes once more. Sure, she may be going a tad bit overboard, especially when her focus should be on the lacrosse team—she just knew Coach was going to have it out for her tomorrow—but this was the one chance she had to put in to hopefully become SLC president next year. And she wasn't going to let that slip through her fingers.

Blowing out a heavy breath, she turned her focus to walking around the gym to be sure everything was where it needed to be. Chairs were stacked in the corner, a space for the band was roped off, speakers and a microphone system lay right beneath one of the basketball hoops, a stack of tickets lay near a cashbox on a table. Everything she came across she marked off on the pages of paper on her clipboard. It wasn't until someone bopped a balloon against her head did she drop her clipboard and engage in a game of keeping the balloon off the ground. It was a nice change of pace from Coach's practices from Hell.

The muffled sounds of chatter in the halls later signaled that practices had ended for the day and the group took it as a sign to stop for the day. Melanie wished there was more she could do but she knew she couldn't keep Allison waiting forever. But even so she took her time putting excess materials away, locking the cashbox, and fetching her backpack from her locker where Erica was waiting for her. At the sight of her friend she smacked her palm against her forehead.

"You're going to hate me," she stated.

"That's impossible," Erica replied from her position on the floor. She rolled up the comic book in her hands and shoved it into her backpack before getting off the floor. She swayed a bit on the spot once on her feet and braced her palm against the cool door. "I'm okay," she said at the concerned expression on Melanie's face. "Just stood up too fast. Why would I hate you again?"

"…Because I'm going over to Allison's," she replied while spinning the dial on her lock, being sure not to look Erica in the eye. The silence was enough of answer for her; it squeezed her heart in the same way a disappointed expression on Erica's face would have done.

"You're going over to Allison's," Erica repeated, making it sound more like a statement rather than a question.

"Yeah." Melanie lifted her bag up onto her shoulder and grabbed her lacrosse stick which was wedged in the back of her locker. "She said she wanted to talk to me about some stuff."

"And you thought it was a good idea to do it at a hunter's house?"

"Well, no." Melanie paused to close her locker door and click the lock shut before continuing, "If she was one of them we'd know. She may not be involved at all. I don't think they'd put Allison's trust and safety on the line just to try and get to me. Or get to someone else through me or something. I'll be fine."

Erica sighed, her nose scrunching a bit, and said, "Mellie, I think this is a bad idea. A real bad idea. Something could happen to you."

If only Erica knew that something already had happened to her. But she escaped that situation in one piece…okay, as close to once piece as possible. Her wrists still weren't quite agreeing with her but that was nothing she couldn't handle. What were they going to do at the Argent house, stick her on a spit and roast her over a fire like a chicken? Brushing the thought away Melanie said with a large, easygoing smile, "Relax, Eri, nothing's gonna happen. I'll go over, help with some homework, and text you when I'm leaving and once I'm home if that'll make you feel better."

"I'll feel better if you don't go at all," Erica replied.

"I already promised. I can't break a promise, you know that." She stared at Erica and Erica stared back and something stirred in her stomach that made her think that this didn't really have anything to do with her being in potential danger. Not really. Licking her lips Melanie continued, "You don't have to worry about me. I'm tough. Daddy says I got a thick skull."

Erica snorted. "Got that right," she stated, her words dry. Then she heaved another sigh. This was a battle she knew she'd never win. "Fine. I'll call my mom to come get me. If I don't hear from you—"

"You're allowed to form a search party," Melanie interrupted her. "Thanks." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Erica's cheek. "We'll talk later." She sidestepped Erica and dashed down the hall; she wanted to leave before Coach caught her and tried to berate her for missing practice. If he was that sadistic to Scott and Stiles she could only imagine how haywire he'd be now. It'd probably make his hair stick up ever more than it already does. She giggled at the thought.

"What's so funny?" Allison asked almost as soon as Melanie stepped out through the front door.

Her laughter faded but the smile stayed on her face. "Nothing. Just thought of something."

"Oh. Okay." Allison cleared her throat and tucked her slightly curly hair over her shoulder. "So, are you ready to go? You can just follow me. My car is—"

"I know which one it is," Melanie interrupted her. Not that I've been on the lookout for it or anything. She lifted her chin, letting Allison know she could go off to her car, and dug in her pockets for her keys as she headed towards her truck. She threw her backpack and stuck into the bed and hesitated by the door when she spotted Erica staring at her from the front steps. She relaxed her shoulders, brought a smile to her face and waved before getting into her car.

The further out she drove the more unease began to grip at her. It made her clutch her steering wheel in a tighter hold, it made her take a few breaths more than usual, it made her shoulders lift up towards her ears and her eyes dart from one side of the road to the other. When she finally arrived at the Argent home her shoulders managed to sag back into position but the unease she had felt didn't go away completely. She couldn't help but notice how her beat-up truck looked like an eyesore compared to Allison's sleek car and their large, picturesque home as she got out and gathered her things.

"Come on, we can go up to my room. No one will bother us," Allison said, her hair bouncing with each step as she rushed up to the front door. Melanie nodded but kept a tight hold on her lacrosse stick just in case some were-rabbit or something jumped out at her (which she couldn't help but smile at the idea of being bitten by one, it'd probably help her like carrots. Her mom would love that).

It almost felt wrong to walk right into Allison's room. Rooms were like an extension of the person who slept in it, made it their safe space. She felt as if she were walking right into Allison's brain, all the exposed parts anyway. It was spacious with a few flower decoration themes thrown around on the bedspread, pillows, rugs, and wall decorations. The cream of her wall made the dark wood of her bed, dresser, desk, and shelf stand out in a contrasting way that almost made her eyes water. She overheard Lydia once describe Allison's style as Bohemian and she didn't get it at the time but now that she was standing in Allison's bedroom it screamed Bohemian: from the wall décor to the hanging paintings to the jewelry boxes to the Parisian knick-knacks. Melanie almost felt bad throwing her stuff down in Allison's uncluttered room, whereas had she been in her own she wouldn't even have to think twice about it.

"So…you have family there or…?" Melanie asked, nodding over at the little statue of the Eiffel Tower on her desk.

"Yeah," Allison replied as she sat in her desk chair and pulled off her heels. "Some people on my dad's side of the family are there. We visit a lot during the summer. It's a great place. Have you been?"

"Not yet. I want to. Funnily enough, some of my dad's family is from there too. My dad used to live there but then he moved to Canada and met my mom and here we are."

Allison nodded, briefly rubbing her feet. "You can sit anywhere, I don't mind." Melanie glanced around before dropping down on the floor by the bed. "I think you'd like it there," she continued while taking books out of her bag. "There's nothing quite like seeing the Louvre or the Arc de Triomphe in person. And then there's the food, the food is amazing. You haven't lived until you've eaten a fresh croissant."

"Oh don't tell me that. It'd only give me cause to get fat and then give Coach an excuse to kick me off the team," Melanie muttered, suing her feet to press on the heels of her boots to slide them off. She didn't know what exactly Allison needed help with so she didn't take out her books just yet. She dug her fingers into her plush, white carpet. It was so soft she was almost sure that it was actually sheep's wool she was feeling beneath her fingers.

"After the way you've been playing I'm surprised he's not kissing your feet," she commented. Melanie brushed it off with a shrug of her shoulders. She may be playing well, siren help or not, but she was no Jackson Whittemore. "What made you want to play anyway?"

Melanie slouched a little against the edge of the bed to get herself comfortable. "Well, when I was younger my mom and dad learned early on that I shouldn't be left alone because then I'd get into everything and get into trouble. I don't like being idle, see? So! My mom used to take afternoons off to watch me after school and some days she'd have Scott and Stiles over too 'cause of Miss Melissa working late as well as the Sherriff. To keep us busy she'd take us to some of the high school lacrosse games and I've been into it ever since. I like the strategic game play, I like the brute force of it, and I like the power. It's not a typical 'girl' sport; it's not something people expect me to do. And I love that. That way I have the upper hand when this pint-sized ball of fury comes a'swingin'." She curled her hands into fists and mimed punching the air.

Allison laughed; dimples carving their way into her cheeks as she flipped open a notebook. She lazily flipped through some of the pages. "Well, you're really good. We can all see that you love it. Ignore everyone else; they just can't handle a girl with power."

"Aint that the truth. I think I'm giving Jackson anxiety." Or being nearly killed by a werewolf could be doing that too. She lightly bit down on her lip and contemplated texting Jackson to see if he was okay. She didn't trust Scott and Stiles to properly ask but then she thought better of it. Getting a barrage of abusive texts wasn't at the top of her to-do list for the day. How Lydia was able to stay sane while dating him was still a mystery to her. But she had to give the girl props, Melanie wouldn't last as long as Lydia had dating someone like him. "Anyway, we didn't come here to talk about lacrosse, did we? What class did you need help on?"

"French, actually," she replied, a sheepish smile appearing on her face. "I'm having trouble with reflexive verbs."

"And you didn't ask Ms. Morrell because…?" Melanie asked, her eyebrows lifting.

"You're getting an A in the class."

"That's 'cause I'm fluent in the language," Melanie said with a wave of her hand before stating to tug some of her own books out of her bag. "I don't need to try that hard."

Allison reached out and smacked her on the arm. "Then why're you taking the class, you goof?" she asked with a little laugh.

"Because it's an easy A," Melanie replied as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "Plus, with English and Music, it balances out my Chemistry and Econ grades." She flipped open her notebook and turned to the pages that they needed. "Now about those verbs."

She did her best to make the conjugations and the use of the verbs as clear as possible but she could tell that Allison wasn't focused on it. Not with the way her brow was furrowing and he was biting on her thumbnail (it gave Melanie a strange sense of relief to see that Allison at least had a bad habit). She didn't give up, though, until she saw Allison nearly gouging a hole in her paper due to how fast she was erasing her mistake.

"Okay, let's take a break before you start a fire," Melanie said, taking the pencil out of her hands.

"Sorry. I'm just—ugh!" Allison uttered a frustrated cry and pushed her long dark hair out of her face with her fingers.

"Ooh, that's a step above 'meh'. It must be serious." Melanie's attempt at a joke fell flat and she cleared her throat, adopting a concerned expression. "What's up? Does this have anything to do with what you can't talk to Lydia about, hence why I'm here?"

"I can't talk to anyone about it, really."

"But me?"

"Yeah."

"Why me of all people?"

"Because I know you'd believe me."

On the outside she managed to make her expression remain neutral if not a little concerned but on the inside her body and nerves went into panic mode. A rush of warmth spread throughout her body and she swore her armpits turned into a swamp with how fast sweat collected there. "Heh, about what?" she asked, doing her best to keep her voice as calm as her outsides.

Allison immediately jumped out of her chair and closed the door to her bedroom. Well, this was it. This was when Allison was going to reveal that she was hunter and that Melanie was stupid enough to believe her and fall her for her trap and then get killed and then be mounted and stuffed and put on display for the other hunters to show how easy it is to trick some of their victims. Hopefully she was one of the cuter stuffed victims.

"It's my aunt," Allison replied, kneeling in front of Melanie's once-relaxed form. "A few nights ago my aunt…she was being weird. She was telling me about things about my family that's just so…it sounds so farfetched. It sounds like some made-up story." Allison's eyes turned downwards as did the corners of her mouth. Her eyebrows scrunched up again and her eyes moved side to side, as if she were trying to decipher some strange invisible text in front of her. She swallowed and continued. "And she called me because she wanted to show me something. To help me understand more about my family."

"Okay. What'd she show you? Some…mutated family tree or something?" Melanie asked. Or some proof that they were all immortals somehow. It had to be the only way to explain the Argent family's freakishly young looks.

"No." Allison's chest heaved with the breath she took in and then let out all in one, loud woosh. "She showed me…a-a werewolf." At the befuddled expression on Melanie's face she rushed on, "I know, I know it sounds crazy. I still don't even know that's what I saw. But my aunt…she had one; she had something captured and chained up. And she was…torturing it. She was electrocuting it. And…and she said that's what we do. My family. We hunt them, those things. My aunt and my dad—I told you it sounded crazy. I just thought, since you're so into the supernatural maybe you'd believe me."

Melanie guessed that Allison began to shut down due to the look on her face that, if she had to describe it, would probably be a grotesque cross between fear and outright panic with a touch of nausea thrown in. It took her a few tries to twist her face back into what she hoped was a normal expression as she said, "Well…I mean, I'm pretty sure Harris is a vampire so…werewolves must exist. Like…Finstock! He could be one. Have you seen his hair? And he's really weird…with and without the full moon. He doesn't need help on that front. Not much anyway." She tried to laugh but it came out robotic and forced.

Allison didn't seem to notice as she wrung her hands together, the concerned expression never leaving her face. "This…this is crazy, right? My family hunts werewolves? They're actually real? Running around our city…chasing us in the school?" She dug her hands into her hair and began mutter beneath her breath, more to herself than to Melanie. "My aunt is keeping a werewolf captive. My family hunts werewolves. Werewolves exist. Werewolves exist. I wanted to be stronger, is this the price?"

"Aww, Alli, let's not give away all of our secrets." The two girls whipped their heads around to see Kate leaning in the doorway. Her arms were crossed and a smirk lay on her lips but her eyes were cold as the night. "We wouldn't want to scare away our dinner guest, right?"

Too late, Melanie thought as a lump formed in her throat.


a/n: Well, it's been a while since my last update. I am happy to announce that Underneath it All is one year old! It turned one on October 30th! When I first started this story it was just a simple idea I had that wouldn't leave me alone that I tried on a whim. Never did I expect to get such a response to it, such as being so close to breaking 100 reviews! Thanks so much to everyone for reading and reviewing, I appreciate it so much, you don't even know.

As a celebration of UIA turning one I have two surprises for you; the first being that I have come up with a title for the sequel! It'll be called The Space Between. The second surprise, I have come up with a series name for my Teen Wolf stories and it's called The Siren Song series! We're also getting close to the end of season 1, I can't wait for you all to see what I have up my sleeve for season 2. But we have to get through the formal first, which is almost here!

What did you think of this chapter in the mean time? Melanie's escape from Kate's cronies and her talk with Allison? Was she a bit too naive and trusting to go to Allison's house even though she knows what Allison's family is like? And we learned a bit more about her insecurities when come face to face with Allison in her natural habitat, so to speak. Next up we have the big away lacrosse game and some more Mel/Danny scenes. Thanks for being so patient with me. Please read and review!

~C.M.

P.S. If you'd like to talk about this story, get some sneak peeks and edits, or would just like to chat with me you can follow me on tumblr at mack-intosh*tumblr *com.