Chapter 13: Battlefield

Hey, hey, hey! Fair warning that this is a pretty long chapter. One of the longest actually, so get comfortable! Thank you guys for all the wonderful reviews and support; I really, really, really appreciate it all! Oh, also it's my birthday so here's my gift to you guys~

Dying part two was definitely way worse than dying part one. Maybe it's because dying part two featured the Kanima with very real intentions to kill me and my own brother had invited himself to the sequel.

Asshole.

I guess I technically wasn't alone when I died again, and I didn't drown which was an amazing plus. I just passed out (or maybe died?) before I hit the water. Either way, I hope I wouldn't have to experience dying part three because these parts are just getting progressively worse and worse. At least all the "before" parts were awful, everything after that was pretty okay. Lonely, but okay.

Familiarly enough, I could hear what was going on, but it was darker than Voldemort's soul and just as cold in this afterlife. Matt did get one thing right about dying. Everything as dark.

I blinked in the darkness to see if my eyes would eventually adjust. "Her eyes are moving," a voice murmured from above me. I tilted my head toward the voice and furrowed my eyebrows. "She's waking up," the voice repeated.

"You know you don't have to comment on everything. I see everything you see," another voice quipped. My frowned deepened as I searched for the disembodied voices. The next sound I heard was an annoyed sigh. Wait a second.

Wait a god damn second.

I know that sound. I've heard it a million times and was even the cause of it. It's Derek. And some other guy, but whatever because everybody knows that Derek just refuses to die no matter what. "Don't make me kill you again."

Yep, that's definitely Derek.

Suddenly, my eyes shot open as I was gasping for air and was sitting up straight as an arrow. Automatically my hands flew to my chest and stomach as all of it felt like it was on fire. I tried to catch my breath as I took in my surroundings. The smell of burnt wood lingered in my nose as I quickly figured out where I was. The Hale house. I heard breathing fairly close in my ear and jumped when I saw Peter Hale smirking down at me. He squatted down until he was eye level with me. "Peter Hale," he introduced with an out stretched hand.

Not trusting my own voice, I cleared my throat numerous times until the metallic taste of blood disappeared from it. "I know who you are. You terrorized the whole town and ran around biting teenagers every chance you got."

Peter looked slightly amused before standing all the way up after his rejected handshake and looking across the room. "I guess it runs in the family."

I turned to see who he was talking to and was slightly surprised to see Derek. Yeah, I thought he could never die, but clearly I underestimated the Argents. Even when he's dead Derek still lurks in the shadows and emerges on his own personal queue. He walked over and looked down at me before offering a hand. "Get up."

I only accepted his help because it felt like someone had thrown me in a wood chipper, hit the reverse button, and then set it on fire. As I was getting up, the sound of my bones cracking could be heard throughout of what was left of the house. "That is disgusting," I groaned, tightly gripping what was left of my shirt. I zipped up the leather jacket and stuffed my hands in the pockets. "At least that stupid Kanima rash stuff is gone."

"You're gonna be sore for a few hours," Derek informed. "You should be almost finished healing by now."

I began dusting myself off very carefully as if to not further hurt myself. "What are you talking about? I'm already dead," I shot back, running my fingers through my hair. Most of it was dry, and the rest was lucky enough to be tangled in a hot mess.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's talking about the number her brother put on her. I mean the last thing she probably remembers is being mauled to death for god's sake," Peter quipped. I really couldn't argue with him, but for shits and giggles I decided to anyways.

"How do you know that?" I asked with narrowed eyes, tying my hair up into a ponytail.

Peter shrugged before walking away to sit on the stairs. "I watched it happen."

I eyed him carefully. "And you didn't do anything?" I scoffed.

"There was nothing I could do. After your little friends got me killed, I lost most of powers."

"Unbelievable." I silently stared incredulously at Peter until deciding to give up otherwise I wasn't going to get any answers. I looked to Derek who was watching the encounter with crossed arms. "Explain."

"I found you face up under a bridge. I thought you were dead at first, but your heart was beating. Barely, but still beating. I gave you the bite and brought you back here. A few hours later, you were healing and your heart was beating a lot louder and faster," Derek explained.

"The bite?" I asked in a louder voice. Derek simply nodded. "The same bite you gave Jackson that started this whole mess."

"The same bite that I gave Isaac, Boyd, and Erica," he corrected.

Oh, so we're ignoring our big fat failures. Noted. A dangerous mixture of anger, sadness, and confusion began boiling in my gut.

"So," I began slowly. "I'm not dead?"

"No."

"But…" I trailed off, eyeing Peter in an unsubtle manner.

"That's another story," Derek vaguely explained with any eye roll.

Though not a satisfying answer, I took I it anyway. I rubbed my temples of my head with the tips of my fingers as I tried to wrap my head around the events that took place for the last few hours. The party, the punch, Matt, Jackson, Matt, Jackson, the police station, Kanima, Matt. A feeling of dread spread throughout my stomach. "What happened to the Kanima?"

"It's Gerard's," Peter piped up. "Because what Derek neglected to tell you is the most interesting part; Gerard drowned your brother to become the Kanima's next master."

"What the hell?" I shouted, whipping my head in between the two. It was hard to decide who to be mad at first, but I settled on Peter since he was the current weakest of all three of us, but then again he was definitely the most manipulative. "Did you watch that happen too?"

"What can I say? I'm a visual learner."

The mixture of emotions I was feeling quickly merged into fury. A sensation that I've never felt before in my core exploded once I lunged at Peter. The sound of his head hitting the stairs was a disgustingly satisfying one. I only spent a second wasting my time on punching until I realized I had claws. Before I had the opportunity to use them, I felt a pair of arms reach around me and pulled me off Peter before I could slice and dice him.

"Oh my, god," I screeched, pushing Derek off of me. "You're totally useless, you know that?" Peter made a sound of agreement and I swear I would stab him in throat if Derek wasn't matching my every move to get back to Peter. I felt myself becoming angrier by the second. I couldn't remember the last time I got this pissed over something in such a short amount of time. "Why are you protecting him?" I yelled, looking up at Derek. "He was complicit in the murder of my brother!"

"Calm down," Derek instructed. "He talks to everybody that way."

I don't know if it's because he's a man, a werewolf, or because he's simply Derek; but, telling someone to calm down automatically makes them twice as mad as they already were. So, by default my heart rate increased and I could feel something burning inside me just begging to be released. "I am calm," I said through my clenched jaw. My hands balled up into fists at that lie. No, I wasn't calm, but I also couldn't take down Derek as easily as Peter. He is bigger and stronger—and the alpha, or whatever.

"Look," Derek began. "I'm sorry about your brother, but there are other things we have to wo—"

"We?" I shouted with a crack in my voice. "No, no, no, no, I never asked for any of this. You saving my ass, the bite, the Kanima, Gerard. Any of it. And now you're telling me it's something I have to worry about now that my brother is dead?" Tears were already spilling and I felt the anger continue to boil. Maybe I couldn't take Derek, and it would probably hurt to try.

"Yes," Derek stressed. "It became your problem too as soon as Gerard killed Matt because now he'll be after you too."

"Me?!" I shouted with wide eyes. "What did I do?"

"Gerar—"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you give me the bite?"

"Because you owe me," he explained, taking a step toward me.

"If anything," I began, matching his step. "You owe me. You should've just left me there and things would've worked out. Now I have a target on my back."

"Your brother used the Kanima as its own personal killing machine to gain some sick, sadistic revenge on something that happened six years ago."

"You really wanna compare sick relatives because I think yours takes the cake. And do not forget that you're the one who bit Jackson," I defended. "Gerard doesn't even know if I'm alive and as far as I'm concerned, I don't have any busin—"

"Why are you still defending him?" Derek shot back, throwing his arms up and letting them fall back to his sides. "Matt made Jackson kill all those people. He got to him before I could even think about helping Jackson."

I wiped my face too roughly and making my already red face even redder. "I think you're remembering that wrong." I know he's remembering that wrong. I probably am too. But my judgment may be a tad cloudy.

"Uh," Peter began, stepping beside us. "I hate to break up the cat fight, but Charlie should probably get home."

I hadn't even realized that my claws had retracted from what were my fingernails. The sickly feeling of anxiety replaced my anger when I looked past Derek and out the window. It was getting lighter outside, but the sun had yet to make an appearance. Peter was right about me getting home seeing that there was a steaming pile of shit for me to deal with there.

"What am I supposed to do? My brother is—was—a serial killer and now he's dead. I was dead, now I'm…this. My parents probably think I'm dead or missing. My friends definitely aren't my friends anymore," I said mostly to myself. "I should leave town." Leaving would solve none of my problems. Not a single one. In fact, it would cause more problems. But it might make me feel better.

"You can't leave. Not now anyway," Derek countered. I knew that already.

"Why? You can't keep me here."

"You need me and I need you."

"Are you even listening to me?" I asked with a deep frown.

"Do you know how to be a werewolf?" He asked with sarcasm thick in his voice. I shook my head instead of saying the obvious answer. "And you've been up close and personal with the Kanima and Scott is planning something with Gerard. I don't know what it is; I just know he's going behind my back."

"I don't care about being a werewolf and the Kanima isn't my problem anymore."

"Are you forgetting the part where I told you Gerard wants you dead?"

"I don't care."

"What?"

"I don't care." I repeated, rubbing my face again. "I don't care how this story ends anymore. The worst possible thing has already happened and I'm somehow still involved. So, if Gerard wants to kill me, fine, I don't care."

Derek had a look on his face that made he think he was going to laugh. "You can't just give up."

"I'm not giving up. I'm just letting nature takes its cou…okay, yeah, fine, maybe I'm giving up," I admitted. "But it's not for nothing."

"Sounds like nothing," he countered, unimpressed with my attitude. "You really want put your family through that? Scott, Stiles, Isaac, Lydia, all your other friends."

I cannot believe Miguel is playing the guilt card with me right now. I'm more surprised it's working. I wasn't even sure if I had any friends. I guess it wouldn't hurt to stick around and find out if I did. Second worst case scenario—Derek is my only friend. After a beat of intense silence and unbroken eye contact I spoke up. "Fine, but on one condition."

"What?"

"If—when I get the urge to maim and kill again, I'm coming for your uncle."

"Deal."

Obviously today was not off to a great start. My mom had to catch a flight from her home in Arizona after she heard the news. Unfortunately, but fortunately, for me I had successfully convinced her to stay here instead of a hotel. I felt safer with all of us in the same house, but the inevitable arguing was making hourly appearances on the dot. You'd think for the sake of their deceased son they could shut up for a while. But no. Werewolves can definitely get headaches and Advil definitely does not help.

Throughout the day cops were in and out of the house. To no one's surprise, they confiscated Matt's computer as well as a few other things from his room. His camera was nowhere to be found considering it was collecting dust under the floor in my room. I could only do so much damage control anyway.

I had managed to make it home before the sun completely rose. I had changed into my pajamas and had to play the role of the distressed sister when the Sheriff came knocking early this morning. As far as he knows, I went home shortly after the incident at the police station and that was that. I was currently sitting at the kitchen table and being interviewed by the world's most boring police officer and kept getting distracted.

Everything happened so fast, yet so slow last night. Never in a million years would I have thought my brother would try to murder me. I was his twin for fucks sake. Then again, I never in a million years thought he would become a master of a homicidal lizard who went on to murder a dozen people. It sucks knowing he died in a way he feared the absolute most and I know for a fact that drowning just plain fucking sucks.

But so does being mauled to death.

The only reason why I'm not straight murdering Derek for giving me the bite is because now I can be here for my mom and dad. Besides, how do you explain Matt's and our situation without someone being locked away somewhere for a long, long time? I should be thanking Miguel at this point since everyone is walking on eggshells around me as well as whispering. Kudos to my heightened senses otherwise I would be pleading insanity. I hadn't, nor attempted, to talk to Scott, Stiles, Isaac, and especially Allison. I plan to keep it that way until I can finish gathering my bearings. Obviously, I owe them all a huge apology and wouldn't be surprised if I made their personal hit lists.

"Excuse me, Charlotte?" An officer asked. My hands were holding up my face and my eyes were painfully glazed over. I blinked and blinked until I made crystal clear eye contact with the officer sitting in front of me. "We're going to have to confiscate your phone as evidence."

Automatically my hands went to my pockets as I patted them down. I forgot that I changed when I got home earlier this morning. "I left it upstairs—"

"No, no keep your phone, Charlotte," Sheriff Stilinski interrupted. "It's yours, and I'm sure you're tired of us poking around, right?" He joked with a dry chuckle.

I nodded and returned the dry laugh before standing up and clearing my throat. "So am I done..?"

Sheriff Stilinski opened up a manila folder and read the contents inside silently. He and the boring officer had a small exchange before looking back at me. "For now unfortunately," he confirmed. "We're heading back to the station and a couple more officers will be back later on."

"Well, that was a blast," I sarcastically sighed as my dad shut the door behind the last officer.

"Can you cut out the comments for one day, Charlotte? Just one day, please," my dad snapped, brushing past me to the kitchen. My mom had dismissed herself earlier and was taking a shower upstairs in the hall bathroom.

"Sorry, just thought I'd try to lighten the mood a little," I defended as I followed him into the kitchen where he was digging around in the fridge.

He pulled out a six pack of beer and slammed the refrigerator door shut causing me to jump at the sound. "My son and your brother just died and you wanna 'lighten the mood'?" He mocked with an eye roll.

"I said I was sorry, dad," I said forcefully.

He used the counter as a bottle opener and took a swig of beer. The smell invaded my nose and I immediately frowned at the strong odor. "That's not the point. You've always been like that," he accused. "How do I know he didn't just throw himself into a lake, huh? How do I know it wasn't you who pushed him to that point? Explain that to me, Charlotte."

Between the smell of the booze, my dad's patronizing and accusatory tone, and his defensive rant, my blood was boiling and I was gripping the counter in an attempt to stay calm. I could feel the marble denting under my fingertips as my dad kept up his rant. "Exactly, you can't so keep your little comments to yourself. In fact don't even speak unless you're directly spoken to."

"Stay calm, for the love of god, stay calm," a voice from outside coached. I instantly recognized the voice to be Derek's and was too busy seeing red to even notice that he was creeping on me. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on getting my anger back in control. I don't even remember having this bad of an anger issue, but I guess it got worse after the bite. I'm sure it's bound to be even worse when the full moon gets here.

God, this day just keeps getting better and better.

"What's going on down here?" My mom asked from the doorway of the kitchen. Her hair was wet and her eyes were rimmed with red from all the crying. With my lack of response to my mother's question, my dad piped up from his corner of the kitchen. "Your daughter is being a smart ass and I'm sick of it is what's going on."

"So you use that an excuse to talk to her like she's an animal?" Almost instantaneously, my claws had extracted from my nails in a flash. I gasped in surprise and clenched my hands into tight fists.

"Get outta there, Charlie," Derek ordered. I made a noise that was supposed to resemble me excusing myself to my room, but ended up sound like a mixture of growling and mumbling. Either way, both my parents ignored me and continued fighting amongst themselves. I racked my brain and tried to figure out what could be my anchor. As of right now the only thing that kept me feeling sane was anger. I had multiple be reasons to be angry, but at the same time I multiple reasons to be utterly depressed right now. Since anger is much easier to access, I reeled it in just like I did at Derek's hours ago. Anger was much easier to maintain rather than depression. Depression was bitch who creeped and can overstay her welcome. And I had zero time to wallow.

A couple days after my second close call, I decided to do some busy work around the house. After all, my parents were still planning a funeral no matter the circumstances. We all agreed on a small, private service so thankfully the house wasn't filled with relatives coming and going. Instead we just had loads of mail come in every day. Some sympathy cards, some hate mail. Despite my parents' protests, I made the decision to not attend the service.

I was sitting on my floor and labeling boxes for what was left of Matt's things. I'm guessing that would be the hardest part of it all. Then it again, it seemed like the whole thing was the hardest part. With the comforting sounds of Mayday Parade, I was actually content (in the weirdest possible sense) for the first time over the last couple days. It was the last day of Spring Break and I was still steady yet avoiding everyone and they were doing the same. The only person I had reconnected with was Isaac who was amazing with dealing with a moody, teenage werewolf. I guess he has enough experience after dealing with Miguel for a bit. Of course, I was super reluctant at first, but I couldn't turn him away.

It was the day before the funeral and no one wanted the job of writing the eulogy, packing up Matt's room, or picking out where to bury him. I was still playing the role of the distressed sister and refused to do any of it. Except when I got conned into packing up his room as well as his lockers at school.

I heard a quiet tapping on my window and quickly got up to open my window. I smiled gently when I saw Isaac who did the same. "Can I come in?" He asked. I nodded and moved out of his way. I shut the window behind him and watched as he took in the scene on my floor. He sucked in some air through his teeth and sent me a sympathetic look. "This part sucks."

"All of it sucks," I corrected, picking up a couple of boxes of the floor and walking to Matt's room. "C'mon, you can help."

Isaac was still standing in the same spot when I returned to my room. "Where are your parents?"

"Probably somewhere annoying some other kid with their arguing," I said, tossing an empty box to Isaac who caught it with ease. "C'mon, I wanna do this before they get home."

"Why?"

I stopped in my tracks and looked at Isaac who seemed like he just really wanted to talk today. "Because it's hard doing these type of things knowing what kind of person Matt was and the things he did. And it's weird and pandering. And you know what the worst part is?"

"The family photo," Isaac answered without a beat. My mouth was agape at his answer because he hit the nail right on the hammer. He walked and placed the box down beside our feet. "Charlie, I know exactly what you're going through and more," he said, gently placing his hand on my cheek. "I lost my brother, Derek gave me the bite, and then my dad died and I was left playing catch up. And can I say you're playing catch up a lot better than I did?" He asked with a short laugh. I let a tear roll down my cheek as a laugh escaped from my lips. Isaac quickly wiped the tear away and continued. "I'm not going to apologize to you."

"Thank you, because I am so tired of hearing the words I'm sorry," I replied shakily.

"You and I both know Matt wasn't always like that and that's what matters the most, right?" I could only shrug in response to that question. Of course I was still pissed at Matt. But I had no idea what to think anymore.

The next day, in the middle of a school day, I was sent to go clean out Matt's locker by my parents. I only brought my own empty book bag for his stuff so I wouldn't bring home too much junk. I decided to wait on his gym locker in the boys' locker room just because you never really know when it's empty. Unfortunately, neither of my parents thought ahead because I had no idea what the locker combination was and there was no way I could go to the principal's office to get it. Defeated, I slammed a fist on the locker door and sighed heavily. I removed my hand seeing as I put a dent on the locker door.

Duh, Charlie. Get it together.

I checked and double checked the empty halls. I gripped the handle and gave it a firm pull. With my streak of luck, the entire door came off and now I was stuck holding a single dented locker door. I put the door on the ground as if nothing happened and focused on the task at hand.

Before I started doing anything else, I dragged over a trash can for his note books and binders. I began stacking all his school books into a neat stack. I tore down the trinkets and posters he kept up, but shuffled through them and kept a few and tossed a few. The cleaning process itself didn't take too long, but I still have to return all of his books. Seeing the finished product, I placed my hands on my hips and smiled confidently to myself.

Now to get this damn door back on.

I obnoxiously kicked the trash can back to where it originally was and hoped to god no one was watching the hallway cameras. Who cares? Scott was way worse than me after the bite whenever he ran around tackling and sniffing people.

I picked up the door until it looked like it was somewhat back on its hinges. I quickly put my book bag back on and easily picked up the stack of books. I gave his locker one last look and headed to guidance counselor office.

I balanced the books in one hand and opened the door with ease. Ms. Morrell's door was shut meaning someone was in there in the middle of a session right now. I looked to the secretary who was having some real issues with her computer based on how close her face was to the screen. "Uh, can you make sure Ms. Morrell gets these?"

"Not my department," she droned without looking up from her computer.

I tilted my head in slight confusion and glanced around to make sure I was in the right place. "You work in the guid—"

"Not my department," she repeated.

"What do you do then, huh?" I snapped, growing frustrated.

"I work in the guidance counselor's office."

I swear I'm this close to bashing my head on the counter and this lady would be stuck cleaning up the mess. Then again it's probably not her fucking department. I huffed and took a seat next to the door. Technically speaking, I have nothing else to do but train with Derek and to get some of my school work done (copied). But still, this lady just made my list.

I dropped the books by my feet with a loud bang which earned a glare from the secretary. I simply shot her a pointed look in response and shrugged. She got up and mumbled about how bad today's youth are. Once she was gone, I rubbed my temples and shut my eyes tightly so I could concentrate on not hearing everyone's conversations around me. All the sounds were putting me on edge so I decided to concentrate on the conversation in Ms. Morrell's office.

"Can you feel sorry for the nine year old Matt who drowned?"

"Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to go off killing them one by one," Stiles snapped. "And by the way, my dad told me that they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. And not just of her though. I mean, he photoshopped himself into these pictures. Stuff like them holding hands and kissing. You know, like he had built this whole fake relationship. So yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine years old was what sent him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train."

It's true; he was riding the crazy train. Too bad no one ever really noticed. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably and decided that once again snooping wasn't a good idea. I only caught bits and pieces of the rest of the session until one part in particular sparked my interest; if you're going through hell, keep going.

It's pretty sage advice and could be said to anyone at this hellish point in time. The door opened and I jumped up in response and was met with Stiles who was just as surprised to see me. Stiles's heart was racing as soon as he made eye contact with me. I opened my mouth to say something, but was almost relieved when nothing came out. He broke the contact and continued walking until he left the office.

"Charlotte, come in," Ms. Morrell invited, breaking my trance of staring down the hall. I shook my head shortly as to clear it and scooped up the books and followed her inside. "Have a seat."

"I actually just need to return these," I insisted, still standing. I placed the books on the floor by the empty chair and turned to leave.

"Wait, Charlotte."

"It's Charlie," I corrected, turning around to face her.

"Charlie, at least let me give you a little advice."

"No offense, but the last thing I need right now is someone else telling me what to do," I urged, leaving without waiting for a response. Truthfully, I wanted to collect all of my missed schoolwork and leave. Hearing her words of advice to Stiles were more than enough for me already.

After I went from teacher to teacher, I sorted out the rest of my school year with online lectures and take-home finals. I went over to Derek's since he insisted that I train every free second I have. But upon my arrival, he was pretty busy beating the living crap out of Peter. I promised that I would be back later and was now home trying to finish some of the mounds of schoolwork I had to catch up on. There was quiet knocking on my door and my mother's breathing on the other side of the door. "Come in, mom," I called out, not looking up from this stupid Geometry book.

"How'd you know it was me?" She asked, shutting the door behind her.

"I had a hunch," I shrugged with a knowing smile. "And dad doesn't really knock."

"Right," she nodded, smiling softly. "So, how are you?"

I blew a wisp of air through my nose and shut my Geometry book. "I should be asking you that. You had to bury your son today, mom, and you're asking how I am?"

"Why didn't you come to the funeral, sweetie?" She asked with tears thick in her voice. I looked down, not wanting to look in her face that was showing clear signs of breaking down.

Seeing my mom cry broke my heart every time. The resentment from her leaving felt less than nothing after Matt's death. An uneasy feeling that could only be described as guilt was often radiating from her. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to say goodbye." A small lie wouldn't hurt for now. It might even move the process of grieving along for the both of us. "And you know I'm not very good with funerals."

"I know," she said through a sniffle. "I'm sorry I asked." I waved her off and tapped my pencil absentmindedly on my book. "At least go to the championship game tonight. For Matt, please," she begged. I guess my mother was trying to push some sort of peace on me with Matt's death. Sadly, I couldn't see that happening for a long time.

"Sure, fine. I'll go, but I have plans after that," I agreed, standing up and stretching. My mother opened her mouth to say something, but simply hugged me tightly instead. I slowly returned the hug and shut my eyes tightly to keep myself from any possible crying.

"Please, please, please be careful and have your phone on, okay?" She said, gripping my face with both hands.

"Promise," I nodded in agreement with a soft smile. She placed a kiss on my forehead and hugged me one last time.

With another empty book bag, I sauntered my way to the boys' locker room to clean out Matt's gym locker. Fingers crossed it wasn't filled with dirty gym clothes. The last thing I wanted was to carry around smelly clothes in this outfit. Granted, it was just a pair of dark jeans and Stiles's lacrosse hoodie. Eh, so maybe it wouldn't be too bad. I listened for the locker room to make sure I wasn't walking in on anyone and walked right in when I heard absolutely nothing. I immediately stopped in my tracks when I realized that I had no idea which locker was Matt's. God, now I have to a pull a Scott and start sniffing until something smells familiar.

I started walking with my nose along the locker until I smelled something horribly familiar. After breaking into the locker, I realized it was definitely Isaac's and merely left the door open. The process continued with the result of Jackson, Scott, Stiles, and finally Matt's locker pried open and their things strewn everywhere. Well, at least now I know who smells like what.

I threw all the unused gear of out Matt's locker and into a neat pile on the ground. Well, as neat as a boys' locker room can be, you know? There wasn't much of anything in the locker but a hoodie and his jersey. I'm more than sure that Coach Finstock would want the jersey back, but this is my compensation for all the headaches he's given me. I shut the door just in time to hear the front door of the locker room swing open. Zipping the bag shut, I slung it over my shoulders and crept around the corner. If there was someone in here, then they definitely weren't supposed to be in here.

"Charlie," Isaac whispered loudly. I jumped at the sound of his voice and frowned once I saw him by the sinks.

"You scared the crap out of me, Isaac," I scolded.

"Something's happening and you need to find Scott and stay away from Derek," he explained vaguely.

I shook my head stubbornly. I noticed he was holding his leg and using the sink as support. I walked over to inspect the damage. "What the hell is going on?"

I hadn't spoken to Scott since that night and Derek told me to stay from Scott. The amount of people who had my back has greatly reduced these past few days, but Isaac's warning seemed urgent. And Scott had a history of wanting to the right thing. Derek? Not so much.

"Leave," he stressed with more urgency in his voice. I hesitated for a moment before leaving the locker room and ran back to my car. I tossed the bag in the back seat and debated if I should honor my mom's request or listen to Isaac. What's the worst that could happen now? With that question I my head, I headed to the lacrosse field where cheering was easily heard. Eventually I made it to the field. I stayed hidden behind the bleachers in the shadows so I wouldn't attract any attention. I seriously doubt Derek told anyone what he did to me because of his amazing ability to keep vital information from people. But then again, this wasn't really the time to protect anyone's feelings by not telling them anything.

A frown etched on my face as I saw Stiles running down the field with the ball in his lacrosse stick. He was headed to the goal and was effortlessly dodging players with the help of his teammates. He shot a goal, effectively breaking the tie between the two teams. We were up ahead by one point with seconds left on the clock; the team was jumping around and already celebrating. The obvious plan was for them to run out the clock. Despite the insane noise level from under the bleachers, I found myself clapping for Stiles's victory. I left from under the bleachers and looked up in the crowd to see everyone. Everyone including Sheriff Stilinski, Mrs. McCall, and even Lydia. I narrowed my eyes in search for Allison, but was interrupted when someone roughly pushed past me. I immediately recognized the scent as Scott and perked up. "Scott?"

"Nothing happened," he muttered to himself. "Nothing happened," he repeated, turning around to face me. I shot him a confused look until the stadium lights began going out one by one. Shit, too bad werewolves can't see in the dark. Once it was pitch black, I reached out for Scott, but as I did a thick cloth was placed to cover my nose and mouth. Whatever was on it burned like hell and knocked me out almost instantaneously and the dark somehow got darker as my body fell limp.

Fact: I've never woken up with a hangover, but I imagine it feels similar to what I'm feeling right now. I opened my eyes only to shut them again so the room would stop spinning. My hearing was off. Almost like I had a cold or like I got water got stuck in my ears. My body was a strange angle once I finally came to my senses. And by my senses I mean the room finally stopped spinning. I lifted myself up from a set of stairs and took in my surroundings. The first sight I saw was Erica and Boyd helplessly hanging from a beam. Their restraints were connected to some sort of machine and neither one were conscious. I stood up and did a quick body audit and realized nothing was broken. The damage was only a few cuts that were slowly healing.

Wolfsbane.

Wolfsbane was in my system which answered a lot of my questions. My hearing was worse than it was before the bite so I had to rely on my sight. I walked over to tug on Erica and Boyd to wake them up. With nothing but a mumble from Boyd, I tugged on the restraints. "Shit," I cursed aloud when they didn't budge. I patted down my person for my phone to text Derek. "Shit," I cursed again when I remembered I left in my car.

I decided to look around for something to get them down. I crept around the corner and saw something I thought I would never see.

Gerard was relentlessly beating Stiles. Neither had noticed my presence, nor did I expect them to. I took a deep breath and hoped my head wasn't too foggy for my next stunt. With a running start, I turned the corner and roughly tackled Gerard. The blow knocked the wind out of both us as a result. I quickly shuffled to my feet to face Gerard. "How bold of you, Charlotte considering the little "accident" your brother had," he drawled, standing up himself. I narrowed my eyes into a glare as he continued. "Tell me, how does it feel to die only to be resurrected into an abomination yourself?" He asked. Stiles, who was now standing, watched the confrontation with silent, wide eyes.

"That's pretty ballsy coming from an old man who's using an abomination himself," I mocked. Gerard narrowed his eyes at me as he began walking in a circle. I mimicked him in case he tried to do anything else. The tension in the room was growing but then Gerard broke it by charging at me. Since Stiles was right behind me, I took the impact until I felt something sharp and hot above my right hip. A burning sensation started spreading and my legs were beginning to give out. As a reflex, I gripped on to Gerard's arms for support. I looked down to see a knife buried in my body. Suddenly, I was feeling very human again. Black dots threatened my vision, but I attempted to blink them away. "You always carry a knife?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Only ones laced with wolfsbane." Gerard shushed me with a smirk etched on his face. "You can practically hear the skin healing around the blade. That's my favorite part," he added with a chuckle. I took in a shaky breath and shook my head clear of the dots threatening my vision again. "I know Derek gave you the bite. Where is he?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, clenching my eyes shut. Gerard twisted the blade in response and I gasped for air that seemed like it wasn't getting to my lungs quite fast enough.

"I'm only going to ask one more time," he threatened.

"I don't know where he is," I panted. The blood was seeping through my hoodie and onto the floor where a small puddle was forming. "All I remember was waking up in the middle of the preserve and then coming home to a dead brother and a hysterical family."

Gerard roughly pulled the blade out and stepped away. I fell to my knees on the ground and gripped the open wound. "You have 24 hours to produce Derek or I'll kill the rest of your family," he demanded, wiping his knife clean of my blood. I looked over at Stiles who had tears running down his beaten face. The wound combined with the stab wound was enough to let myself black out.

I've woken up in some strange places in my time. Next to a pool with lungs filled with water, on the floor of what's left of the Hale home, the stairs of the Argent's basement, and now I get to add the middle of a random street. Derek did warn me that Gerard was going to try to kill me, but I didn't think he was going to be so obvious about it. The gravel from the road dug into my back as I rolled over to stand up. The wolfsbane was still in my system, effectively making me light headed when I tried to stand up.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," a voice warned from behind me. Their hands carefully wrapped around my waist to help me stand. Upon closer examination, I realized it was Stiles and frowned up at the taller boy.

"I got it," I assured, prying his hands off of me. I waited until my foggy head cleared a bit and took a shaky step only to stop again to clear my head. Stiles's arm found my the small of back again.

"Hate me all you want, you need help," he said with finality. "Besides, the school parking lot is in the other direction." Once Stiles turned us around slowly, I realized he was right but I was in no mood to be patronized. We walked in a stiff silence until we reached the end of the street. "So, uh, you got the bite, huh?"

"Where's Erica and Boyd?" I asked, blatantly ignoring his question.

"Uh, they took off as soon as they dumped us out on the side of the road."

"And they left me here with you," I grumbled through gritted teeth, finally leaning away from Stiles.

"It didn't sound like they were heading back to Derek's…"

"That's even worse!" I shouted, only exacerbating my headache. "It was totally my idea to leave first."

"So, you did get the bite then?"

"I was half dead under a bridge and Derek bit me," I explained shortly. "It was not my choice."

"What?" He asked, stopping mid step.

"Yeah," I sighed with slight irritation in my voice. I stopped and turned around to frown at him. "Did Scott not tell you?"

"I—we—really aren't talking right now."

"Why?"

"You first."

"Right," I nodded, looking down and taking a deep breath. I tried to figure out how to explain this in a way that Stiles wouldn't ask so many questions. "Well, long story short. Matt had the Kanima kill me—and it came pretty close, but Derek came along and gave me the bite. I woke up on the floor and had to be convinced I wasn't dead by someone who I thought was dead. Now, obviously, Gerard has it out for me and my family."

"Wow," he breathed. He was quiet for another brief moment and titled his head. "What's the long story?"

"Can we save that for another day?"

"Fair enough," he shrugged, walking once again. I tugged at the sleeves of the ruined hoodie. We made it to the end of the street and turned a corner and saw the school come into view. I wouldn't get a chance to say my piece again. A wave of nerves and the fear of rejection washed over me before I stopped walking.

"What are yo—"

"Can I say something?"

"Technically you just did," Stiles answered without missing a beat.

"Stiles."

"Sorry. I'm all ears."

"Thank you," I sighed heavily. A deep and angry frown formed on my face. "I don't really know where to begin so I guess apologizing is a good place to start. So, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"This whole Kanima business. It was under my nose the entire time and I didn't even notice. I'm sure if I would have figured it out sooner than none of us would be in this insane predicament. I mean, I was convinced it was actually asthma and not panic attacks."

It was Stiles's turn to look at me like I had three heads. "What are you talking about?"

"Stiles, look at your face," I snapped. "Look at me, go to the cemetery and look at the shiny new graves, look at Jackson, Erica, Boyd, Lydia, Allison, Scott. Hell, look in an arbitrary direction and ask me what I'm talking about again," I ranted, getting louder with each word. I know it wasn't tears threatening to fall, but instead, my eyes were glowing. I could feel a warm, burning feeling behind my eyes and tried to blink it away. I know it doesn't work like that, but I'd figured I'll try instead of calming down. "It was under my nose—down the hall from me the entire time! Sure, I thought Matt was a little strange—he's my brother. That's a like a birthright to think your sibling is a weirdo. But not a serial killer! A serial killer!" I repeated, waving my arms around for emphasis.

The look on Stiles's face had morphed into a concerned one. His arms so they were out in front of him and I could already hear what he was about to say next. "Charlie, calm down."

Ugh, I know he's trying to help, but hearing those words generally doesn't the exact opposite I've come to learn quickly.

"I am calm," I muttered bitterly, shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath. Are personality traits like spread through whomever bit you? Because I'm slowly but surely becoming as moody as Derek. It's just not a full time thing just yet.

"I'm not convinced," he admitted in a knowing tone. "This isn't your fault, okay? None of it is, it's as simple as that and I don't care if you don't believe me because we're really close to winning this, okay? I can feel it. And now we have even more muscle," he said, gesturing to me. "I mean my dad is the sheriff again and you totally called that remember?"

I shook my head even though I did remember that night very clearly. It's not that I didn't remember that, it was the fact that I was still on the edge of losing it again and the only instinct I wanted to give into was fleeing the scene.

"Okay, okay," Stiles said in a shaky voice. "Let's say we hate you. Like, absolutely despised. I'm talking let's chase you out of town with pitchforks and torches and signs that said get out, Charlie! You're no—what rhymes with your name? Something that rolls off the tongue—and it's gotta be catchy," he rambled in a lighter tone. Admittedly, listening to him ramble was helping me feel the slightest bit better about the situation.

I opened my eyes once I knew they weren't glowing anymore. A sad, gnawing feeling replaced my anger once again. "Cops, Stiles, he killed cops," I reminded in a quiet voice.

"And that's on him. You can't carry that with you, Charles," Stiles said in a tone that was hard to debate with. "I won't let you."

I know Stiles is right. And as much as I wanted to argue with him all night, I had other obligations. But at least this was much more productive than punching Peter over and over and over again. "You should write speeches for movies," I proposed.

Stiles cringed slightly. "That was pretty dramatic, wasn't it?"

"A little," I said, holding my point finger and index finger apart for emphasis. "A little cheesy, too." Even though it felt like we were losing and losing bad, it did help. "It did the trick, though. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he sighed, wrapping his arm around my shoulder this time. I snaked my arm around his waist carefully and we continued the rest of the walk in silence. Once we reached the lot, we broke away from each other. "You okay to drive?"

"Yeah, what's a little wolfsbane," I shrugged, walking backwards to my car. Stiles gave me a look as if I were the inventor of comprehensive final exams. "I'll be fine," I promised, waving him off. It wasn't a total lie—I was feeling a lot better. In fact, I found myself missing how close Stiles and I just were.

"Can I say something?" Stiles asked as he walked over to my car.

A warm feeling spread over my chest at that question. I smirked once he was in earshot. "Technically, you just did."

"Ha," he said dryly. "I'm serious."

"Shoot."

He fiddled with his keys before taking an extreme interest of the ground. "You know I used to have a crush on you?"

A look of shock crossed my face briefly. I wanted to play this as cool as possible. The little silver lining I had left. I lifted an eyebrow and searched his face. "Seriously? In the middle of all of this? This is the time to reveal your undying love for me?"

"Okay, undying lo—"

"I mean…"

"There was never a good time! There's always something going on!" I listened to see if his heart skipped a beat and blushed slightly when I heard nothing but a racing, but steady beat. "But what about your unrequited love for the great Lydia Martin?"

"I prefer the term one-sided thank you," he corrected with a glare with no real heat behind it. "And what about it?"

"Nothing," I shrugged. "Just thought something might've happened."

Stiles shook his head and began playing with his keys again. "So, what killed it?" I asked. Intrigued on how I somehow managed to ahead of Lydia freakin' Martin.

"You were in my way of my ten year plan."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious and that stupid kiss didn't help," Stiles muttered, giving me an accusatory look.

"That kiss was your fault."

"Mine?"

"A hundred percent."

"Even though you initiated?"

"Yes, mister, I can't find the spark," I mocked in a light tone.

"Hey!" Stiles shot back. "That was legit—how was I suppose to know that all I needed was a little boost."

"A little? That kiss was for the books—movies even, thank you. It was enough to trap shapeshifters and all things terrifying." I was almost offended. But I couldn't when I thought about how warm that kiss made me feel. "You could literally feel how awesome it was."

A deep blush came over Stiles face this time. He crossed his arms and looked down at the tops of his shoes. I used this opportunity to take in his black eye. That alone brought me out my bubble with Stiles and into my harsh reality.

"I should get goi—"

"You were the only other one around," he shrugged.

"Wh—"

"Like normal, I guess," he frowned, trying to explain. "Okay—like—a human without any special skills."

"Special skills?"

"Yeah, like the ability to kill a moving target at fifty feet," he explained quickly, looking up and away as he did. "Don't be mad."

"No, no, I get it," I said, biting my lip. "It sucks feeling totally useless while everyone does the dirty, dangerous work."

"Exactly," he agreed, snapping his head back down to me. "And now that you're a werewolf I find you utterly repulsive."

I threw my head back and laughed loudly. "Go home and get some rest, Stiles. Oh, congratulations on your game," I winked.

"You saw?"

"Only the end. I was cleaning out Matt's gym locker and I didn't wanna walk in on anyone," I explained.

Stiles mouthed a silent 'oh' and cleared his throat. "Text me when you're home safe."

"Oh, I'm actually heading to Derek's," I explained, pointing to the general direction of Derek's place.

"What are you gonna do about that whole situation anyways? I mean, are you even in his pack?" Stiles asked as he took a step toward me. The warm feeling in my chest returned when he held off on going home again. I shook my head, but stopped abruptly and frowned. "I don't think so?" I said, though it came out more like a question than anything. "I'm still pretty pissed at him for biting me in the first place. Can I hop packs, you know from Scott's to Derek's? Is that a thing? Is Scott super pissed at me?"

"I don't know," Stiles answered. "I told you you're repulsive, Daehler."

"Thanks for all your help," I thanked sarcastically. I rolled my eyes playfully, and closed the gap between us with a hug. "Sorry, I got in the way," I mumbled into his shoulder.

"You're still in the way, but it's okay because I have a pretty nice view either way."

"Stiles!"

And that's all she wrote! She meaning me. Anyways, I added a little of Masterplan just because I really didn't wanna leave you guys with another cliffhanger. I also tried to leave the chapter on a happier note, I guess? But in the next and final, Charlie is gonna make peace with everyone an Matt's death so stay tuned~

Review, please?