Pinning paper wings on problems

Hoping that they'll fly away

Turn our backs, ignore the truth

If they can't support the weight

Reflections – We Are The In Crowd


The next morning I honestly didn't feel very well. It wasn't possible for vampires to get sick, so I shrugged it off, lighting up a cigarette and walking to school, bag slung over my shoulder. By the time I got to school I was already late, but I couldn't find it in me to care. I went about my day like it was any other, going to class, pretending to take notes and pretending to listen as the teachers spoke. By the time the day was over, I felt even worse than when I woke up. Throughout the day I'd managed to pin it on the worry about the hunters in town. It seemed like I would never be free of them.

Of course it had occurred to me that I could leave. I really could just pack my bag, sell my house and leave. But I was trying to turn over a new leaf, trying to become a better person. I knew I had to do everything in my power to become the person Macy wanted me to be, even if that meant going against my instincts – especially if it meant that.

So, after having had a long and emotionally taxing day as I tossed up my options, I couldn't wait to get home, have a bath and read a book. Unfortunately I only go so far as passing the art room before I was stopped by a familiar buzz-cut donned boy. He stepped out in front of me, wearing his lacrosse gear with a determined frown on his face that honestly made him look like a grumpy kitten.

"Yes?" I asked tiredly, raising an eyebrow as I listened to his heart thud like it was trying to break free of his chest. When he didn't say anything I rolled my eyes, hitching my bag higher up on my shoulder. "Let me guess: Scott told you that he saw me in the woods with Hale last night and since you both need answers you figured I was the slightly less intimidating one to approach." His heart stuttered at my words and his adams apple bobbed as he stared at me. I flicked a lock of hair out of my face, pinning him with my entrancing green eyes. "But there's one thing you should know before you open your mouth," I warned, enjoying the way the blood ran from his face as I stepped closer. "I'm much more dangerous than Derek Hale."

He didn't say a thing, blinking up at me. I was surprised by his eyes. I hadn't noticed before, his eyes looked like he smelt; intoxicating.

I covered up my brief falter with a smirk, stepping around him and turning down a hallway, struggling to keep a human pace. I eventually found the door, shoving it open and stepping out into the sun. I immediately pulled a cigarettes out of my bag, lighting it up shoving past some guy in a jersey. I hopped down the steps, striding down the path, meaning to head home. I slid around a form, pausing as I caught a whiff of a familiar scent. Scott.

I glanced at him over my shoulder as I walked, brow furrowing as I noticed he was stock still, staring at something in the parking lot. I followed his line of sight until I was met with a most unpleasant sight.

Hunter.

He was staring at Scott, not playing the least bit of attention to me. I knew it was him; the one from last night. My hands clenched into fists but I focused on walking neutrally, not letting anyone notice anything was off. The older man was smiling at the boy, and not in a menacing way either. I peered past him, blinking in surprise as I saw Allison in the car behind him. They were related. That or she really had a thing for older guys. I took another drag of smoke, watching him from the corner of my eyes until I turned the corner, then I was gone, having disappeared from sight.

I'd run to Derek's place in the woods, not wasting any time. He'd said it was burned down, but I hadn't expected it to be in complete ruins. "Hale!" I yelled as I jumped up the blackened porch steps, walking through the already open door and looking around with a grimace.

"What happened?" he asked, appearing at the top of the untrustworthy staircase. At least he was smart enough to realise this wasn't a social call.

"The lead hunter, from last night?" I told him, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. "It's Allison Argent's father."

He looked like he was considering my words, gaze hardening with whatever he was thinking. "Does Scott know?"

"He just found out." He nodded, jogging down the stairs and striding out the door. I followed him out, refusing to walk behind him as I caught up, walking by his side. "Try to keep up," I said with a teasing grin, flashing him a wink before disappearing, leaving him in the dust. I heard his irritated and frustrated grunt as he fought to keep up, but he couldn't even come close. I decided to slow down the closer we got the the school, letting him catch up to me before we both stopped at the tree line to the lacrosse field.

The boys were running some kind of drills, but I wasn't interested in them. My eyes were on Scott, who had just been bowled over by some other kid who was standing over him, sneering at the young wolf. We slowly walked out of the forest, closer to the game. We both knew that this would have a negative impact on Scott's mental state, meaning he was more likely than ever to lose control. We stayed a bit back from the field, watching them talk amongst themselves as Scott was told to try again. I let my bag slide off my shoulder, setting it on the ground by my feet.

My lips twitched with amusement as Scott ran at the other boy at full force, slamming into him and knocking him on his ass. My smile was quickly wiped away however, when I caught sight of his glowing eyes and fangs. I sucked in a sharp breath, watching as Stiles hurried to his best friend's side, pulling him out of the sight of the crowd and towards the building. "Follow them," Derek grumbled from beside me. I wanted to argue – I didn't like being told what to do – but I knew there was logic to his command. It would be suspicious for him to wander into the school after some boys, but not me. I finally nodded, ducking my head and trailing the boys silently.

Once I'd followed them into the boys locker room, I was glad I'd done so. Scott was up in the rafters, snarling down at a hyperventilating Stiles who was backed into a wall. I appeared between them, holding my hands up placatingly to help calm him. "Hey mutt!" I yelled up at him, keeping calm so I wouldn't turn myself. He snarled at me, edging closer to the end of the rafter. "Okay, I mean Scott. Calm down, everything is fine. You don't really want to hurt Stiles, and I'm not looking to hurt you, so why don't you just take a breath and change back, okay?"

He didn't like what I'd said and dove down from the roof. I rolled my eyes, slamming out a hand and catching him around the throat. A pained, choking noise came from his mouth and I threw him back into some lockers. He dinted them where he slammed into the metal, and I pulled myself up to my full height, which was unfortunately several inches smaller than him. I didn't want to have to reveal myself, so I kept my lips pressed shut to conceal my fangs. He roared again, picking himself off the floor and taking a run at me. I sucked in a deep breath, thanking my lucky stars he had a helmet on, so there was no chance he could bite me. I dodged out of the way of his arm, sliding to the right and punching him in the gut.

His hand shot out and he landed a slap across my face, sending me flying back into the wall. I growled deep in my chest, sliding to my feet and walking back towards him, hands clenched and ready to break some bones. Before I got close enough to do any damage, we were both hit with a face-full of the freezing cold spray from a fire extinguisher. We both pulled back, stopping our fight. While I immediately turned to glare at the culprit, Scott collapsed onto a bench, peeling off his helmet and letting his head fall into his hands.

"Stiles?" the boy panted while I brushed off my jacket, wrinkling my nose at the shaking boy. "What happened?"

"You tried to kill me," he said irritatedly, ripping off his gloves and throwing them carelessly into the corner. "You would have succeeded if Juliet hadn't gotten here." I had a feeling that was meant to be some kind of thank you, and instantly felt uncomfortable, turning to lean against the wall, my arms crossed over my chest. "It's like I told you before, it's the anger. It's your pulse rising. It's a trigger."

"But that's lacrosse," he said, a desperate tone to his voice as I watched, keeping my face carefully schooled. "It's a pretty violent game if you hadn't noticed."

"Well it's going to be a lot more violent if you end up killing someone on the field," he responded, and I nodded, the kid had a point. "You can't play saturday. You're gonna have to get out of the game."

I tensed as I heard his heart rate spike, preparing for another fight. "But I'm first line."

"Not anymore." He dropped his head into his hands again, and I watched him carefully. It would be all too easy for him to fall into another change. "How did you know?" Stiles asked, turning to face me on the bench.

I lifted up a single shoulder in a shrug. "I saw it happen," I told him honestly, blinking down into his eyes. "Thought I'd lend you a hand."

"Great," he said, standing to his feet and staring back at me. "So how about you answer a few questions?" I frowned at his words, tightening my crossed arms and tilting my head. "That's right, your little intimidation tactic earlier didn't work on me. So tell me what you know, or I'll-"

"You'll what?" I asked, cocking my head fully and allowing a dark, humoured smile to spread across my red lips. I took a step forwards, making the young teen jerk back to keep away from me, stepping further back the more steps forward I took. "You'll do what, Stiles? Hurt me?" I backed him into the lockers, making him yelp as his back collided with the cool metal. "Don't think just because I saved your sorry ass this time, that means I won't tear your throat out with my teeth."

That threat was a lot more serious if he knew what I was, but I knew my words got the message across, so I backed off, turning back to a wide-eyed Scott. "But I have so many questions."

"Don't we all, kid," I responded, straightening my jacket and lifting my hand in a lazy salute as I spun around to leave the room.

"Please Juliet," Scott begged, grabbing my arm to stop me from stepping out of the room. I froze, looking down at the warm hand on my arm. "Wow," he murmured, suddenly distracted. "You are cold."

I ripped my arm from his grasp, scowling at him as I once again turned to leave. "What if something happens?" Stiles spoke up, and I looked over my shoulder irritatedly.

"Excuse me?"

"What if Scott accidentally hurts someone, and we need help-your help? Supernatural help?" he asked bravely, feeling more confident as he spoke the words. "Help from another werewolf?"

Though he was wrong about my species, he had a point. It wouldn't be a bad idea for them to be able to contact me. If things went south, I was probably their best bet at covering a murder up, what with my compulsion and all. I huffed, spinning back around and holding out a hand expectantly. Stiles looked between me and my hand, unsure what to make of it. He hesitantly moved forwards, wrapping his hand in mine and grimacing like it disgusted him. I once again ripped away from his grip, scowling at him. "I meant hand me your phone, dumb-ass."

"Oh!" he blinked, red blotches appearing on his cheeks as he turned around, clumsily cracking open a locker and pulling out a small cell phone. I snatched it from him, frowning as I saw it was a touch screen. I was the clumsy one this time as I awkwardly slid my finger across the screen, trying to unlock it. "You-you just swipe-"

"I've got it," I snapped at him, finally succeeding in opening it. Then I stared at the phone with a bothered glare. I handed it back to him wordlessly, and he took it cautiously, though there was something like humour deep within his eyes. I recited my number, watching as he punched it into the device, then saved and shut it with ease. "That's for emergencies only. Are we clear?" I asked, staring up at the boy seriously.

"Crystal," he replied, flashing a smile that melted away with my glare.

"Thank you," a voice from my left said, and I shifted my gaze to where Scott stood, smiling at me awkwardly.

"Don't mention it." I turned on my heel and headed for the door, calling out over my shoulder, "I mean it, don't mention it. Ever."

They mumbled agreements, but I was already through the door and making my way back towards the field.


The next day was slightly better, I woke up after having a good nights sleep, feeling awake and alert. I skipped breakfast, deciding I'd just feed that night instead. However, when I got home from school I realised I only had one bag left. Cursing myself for being so stupid, I went straight to the hospital. I had to leave my car behind when I left the last town I'd been staying in, and had yet to get a new one. I pondered going down to the dealership and buying one, or at the very least compelling one off somebody, but for now I could walk, it helped me clear my mind.

I stepped through the automatic doors of the hospital, wrinkling my nose at the smell of disinfectant. I walked past the front desk like I belonged there, my head held high. I'd been here enough times to know where the blood bank was, and navigated the halls easily, slipping past doctors and patients alike until I made my way into the small, chilled room.

"Can I help you?" the nurse at a desk against the far wall asked, standing from her seat to greet me, a stern scowl on her bright pink lips.

I walked forwards, keeping my eyes locked on her and drawing her in. I kept our eyes locked, blindly handing over my empty bag. "You're going to fill this bag with blood bags."

"I'm going to fill it with blood bags," she droned monotonously, pupils contracting as she spoke.

"If people ask questions, tell them it was a paperwork mishap and all bags are accounted for."

"I'll tell them they're all accounted for," she repeated tonelessly. A small smile flickered to life on my lips and I blinked, effectively breaking the connection. She looked down, shaking her head once or twice to steady herself before turning around to complete her task. I watched her carefully, also monitoring the door to make sure nobody entered the room while she was filling the bag.

She finished, shutting the freezer door and moving back over to me, holding out the bag full of blood. "You'll forget I was ever here," I commanded her as I turned to leave.

I didn't wait to hear her repeat it, simply moving through to the hall and making my way out to the entry. I was just passing the front desk with a got hit in the face with a mouth-watering scent that was quickly becoming familiar.

"-I always thought that we had this kinda connection..." I heard his voice say and I paused, glancing over my shoulder to watch the boy flounder as he talked to a pretty girl I vaguely recognised from school. "You know, unspoken of course..." I smirked, smoothly sliding into a seat around the corner, crossing one leg over the other as I watched the scene before me unfold. "Maybe it would be kind of cool to...get to know each other a little better."

"Hold on, give me a second," her sweet voice said, and I listened to the rustle of her clothes as she moved. "Yeah, I didn't get any of what you just said. Was it worth repeating?"

"Uh-um...ah...no," he stuttered, exhaling sharply. I bit my lip to smother a laugh. "Sorry. I'm gonna sit...you don't care, okay."

He sat down in the seat beside me, picking up a magazine and holding it upside-down in front of his face, merely staring at the glossy pages. "That was brutal," I smirked, resting my chin on my hand as I watched him. He jumped out of his skin, hand grasping at his heart as it started beating a mile a minute. I wiggled my fingers at him playfully, enjoying the way that blotchy red blush spread across his mole-speckled face.

"Juliet," he squeaked, rubbing a hand over his short hair. "Didn't see you there." He glanced around awkwardly, heart still beating wildly in his chest. "What're you doing at the hospital?"

Even as he asked his eyes drifted to my feet where I'd left my bag. The top was open, and a single bag of blood was visible within it's depths. I kicked it with my combat boot, knocking the top back over it, concealing what I had hidden within. "Just visiting," I told him nonchalantly, deciding to forgo the compulsion this time around. He wouldn't say anything about it, I could tell. "What're you doing at the hospital?"

"Oh, well you see Scott and I, we..." he trailed off, scrambling to finish his excuse.

"Yes?" I prompted with wide, innocent eyes, awaiting his response.

Scott appeared by our side, staring down at us with a crease between his eyebrows. "Finished, Stiles. We can go now."

It was painfully obvious that neither of them really trusted me. I didn't mind, I didn't particularly trust them either. Besides, I wasn't looking for friends. They were the last thing I needed right now. I could tell he wanted to talk to him alone, so I grabbed the strap of my bag, pulling it up onto my back and standing to my feet. I didn't bother saying goodbye, just turned around and left. I knew they were up to something, I could tell by the way Scott's heart was racing and we was shifting his weight from foot to foot.

I stopped just outside the doors, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, leaning agains the wall of the large building and listening to their conversation closely.

They'd been here looking at the body that'd been found, or at least, half of the body. I cocked my head, listening as they whispered about how they thought Derek was the killer, and how they were going to get him arrested. I considered going straight to Derek to give the guy a heads up, but I decided I didn't care and rounded the corner just as they stepped out onto the pavement, whispering about how they had to go to Derek's burned down house that night to dig up a body.

I rolled my eyes, stepping onto the road and moving back towards my house. This was definitely not my problem.


I was watching some old war movie when I got the call. I'd just curled up under a pile of blankets on my couch and I had to sit up to reach it, doing so with a scowl. I picked up the old little thing, a Nokia I'd gotten back in 2005. The number wasn't in my phone but I wasn't surprised; very few were. I answered begrudgingly, "What?"

"Juliet!" the worried voice of Stiles yelled through the speaker, and I frowned, already annoyed I had answered the call.

"What do you want?"

"Scott's missing!"

I paused, frowning at my television uncomprehendingly for a long moment before asking again, "What?"

"Look, long story short, we had some wolfsbane in the car with us and it got to Scott. He flipped out and when I stopped the car he legged it. I have no idea where he went."

"Get Derek to help you," I told him, sinking back into my pillows.

"Ah, yeah...we kind of got him arrested." I snorted. I couldn't help it, I honestly found the whole thing kind of hilarious. "Come on," Stiles snapped, and through the phone I could hear the sound of tires against the road. He was driving. "Will you just help me?"

With a huff I told him my address and hung up, moving up to my room and pulling on some jeans and a hoodie just before there was an impatient knock at my door. I was in front of it in a second, cracking it open to stare at the boy, unimpressed.

"So-so this is where you live?" he said, blinking past me and into my house.

"Yeah," I told him, wondering where he was going with this.

"It's nicer than Derek's place, that's for sure," he mumbled.

"Are we going or what?" I asked him, and he instantly nodded, leading the way to his jeep.

"So, you can track him by scent, right?" he asked me as he settled into the drivers seat, pulling off the side of the road and moving the car down the street. "You can do that?"

My nose wasn't as sharp as a wolf's, but I could do basic tracking; that was easy enough. "Yeah," I told him with a nod he didn't see. Without asking I rolled down the passenger window, taking a deep breath in. "I've got nothing," I said with a frown, squinting out into the distance. "Take me to where you lost him. I'll track him from there."

He took a sudden sharp turn into a side street, clearly anxious to find his friend before he did something he's seriously regret. Eventually he pulled up at a seemingly random place in the woods, and I stuck my head out of the open window, sniffing cautiously. I caught the familiar scent of wet dog and Scott's aftershave.

"Okay," I said, gesturing for him to drive on. He pressed his foot to the accelerator gently, moving the jeep forwards slowly. We continued along the path for a few minutes, until suddenly I lost the scent. "Stop," I commanded, barely waiting for the vehicle to come to a complete stop before cracking open the door and sliding out. I moved deeper into the woods, but not so far that Stiles couldn't see me. I paused, pressing my hand to a tree trunk that smelt faintly of werewolf. "He went up into the trees, I think," I called back to Stiles, who'd clamoured out of the car, waiting by the road side as he watched me. "I can't track him like this."

The boy deflated, shoulders slumping disappointedly.

I pursed my lips, feeling like the right thing to do was console him, offer him some form of comfort. He blinked and I was standing in front of him. He jumped, startled by my sudden appearance. I lifted my hand, moving touch his shoulder but deciding at the last moment it was too awkward. "Uh, don't worry?" I said, though it sounded more like a question than a reassurance. "It's not a full moon, so he's probably not going to hurt anyone. He should still be in control."

He nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the front of his car, staring out into the foggy woods. "More than anything I'm just worried about how he'd be able to live with himself if anybody did get hurt."

I nodded like I understood, scratching at my arm even though it wasn't itchy.

I didn't quite understand that kind of logic. What did it matter if anybody got hurt? I'd spent centuries ruthlessly killing people without a shred of guilt, back when I'd flicked the switch on my humanity. Now that I was allowing myself to feel again – however minutely – I supposed I could see what he meant. I wasn't too sure whether werewolves had the same humanity switch vampires did, but I doubted it.

I crossed my own arms, mirroring Stiles' stance and turning my gaze to the lingering fog. "Uh, maybe he just needs time? He'll show up soon."

"Did this happen to you?" he asked, glancing over at me sheepishly. "Back when you were bitten?"

If there was ever a time to come clean, it was now. But I wasn't ready. When people found out what I was they tended to look at me in a certain way, a way that made something in my gut twist painfully. And if I was going to be here a while like I'd planned, I didn't want the only people I had regular contact with to view me as a monster. I decided to keep up the charade for a while longer. I didn't feel like lying, so I pulled out the oldest trick in the book and changed the subject. "Come on," I said, pushing myself off his car and moving back around to the passenger seat and peeking up at the darkening sky. "It's getting late."

"Right," he muttered, walking around and sliding back into his seat. The drive back home was silent, both of us lost in thought.


I wandered onto the field the next day, cigarette in one hand, phone in my other as I made my way to the stands. I wasn't planning on coming to the game, I didn't care for lacrosse, but an urgent text from Stiles made me reconsider.

Found Scott. We're at the school. He's definitely playing. May need your help.

I took a long drag from my stick and took a seat on the stands. I wished, not for the first time, that I hadn't chosen this town to stay in. Things were so much easier back in Washington. I wondered yet again why the boy was trusting me of all people. In his mind I was associated with the Hale kid, and he didn't trust the wolf as far as he could throw him. So what was different about me?

The team slowly made their way onto the field, and I flicked the ash off the end of my cigarette, watching them closely as the game began to start. Stiles plopped himself on the bench, then looked over his shoulder, eyes scanning the crowd. I wondered who he was looking for, then was surprised when his eyes caught mine and he lit up with relief. I frowned, I didn't want the boy to get attached to me, it would only lead to heartache on his end when I inevitably either killed him or left town. Either way, if I continued to give him any kind of hope for a friendship between us, well leading him on was just as cruel as hurting him. So I didn't respond to his smile, simply letting my eyes slide past him like I hadn't even noticed he was there.

I watched the game disinterestedly, mostly just monitoring Scott's heart rate. It rose with all the running he was doing, but not high enough for me to worry. I wondered what I'd do if he turned on the field; probably just fake a seizure or something to give Stiles a chance to get him to the safety of the tree line.

Things were pretty boring. The home team was losing by two and Scott had yet to catch a single ball. I was getting plenty of dirty looks for not cheering when our team miraculously got a goal, but I couldn't have cared less.

I looked down at my phone, barely paying attention to the game when suddenly a cheer spread through the crowd. I glanced up, blinking at the field in surprise as I watch Scott dart out of the path of the opposing team, dodging their advances and sprinting to the other end of the field, aiming and shooting, the ball sailing from the crosse and into the net. I pursed my lips, focusing my full concentration on the game. From there things only got worse, for me at least. It seemed like Scott was keeping things under control, at least until he turned towards the crowd and I caught a glimpse of his glowing amber eyes. I stood abruptly, walking through the cheering crowd until I made it to the bottom.

I stormed over to Stiles, forgetting that I was supposed to be ignoring him. "What the hell is he doing?" I asked, and he jumped violently when he noticed I was sitting on the bench beside him, not having heard me approach.

"Uh, winning us the game?" the boy replied once his heart had calmed down.

"You realise there's a hunter in the crowd," I hissed back, keeping my posture casual and relaxed, the last thing I wanted to was alert anybody that something was wrong. We both glanced to the field, pausing our conversation as we noticed Scott freeze, glancing around wildly.

Stiles jumped to his feet. "No, no, no," he muttered, grabbing his head worriedly. Everything stopped as we watched, waiting to see what he'd do. With one mighty swing of his arm he brought his crosse back, throwing the ball directly into the net. "Yeah!" Stiles screamed in triumph as the horn sounded, signalling the end of the game. I continued to keep an eye on the boy as the crowd poured down from the stands to congratulate the team. "Whoo!" he yelled again, throwing his arms in the air. Some of the teammates ran towards him, clapping him on the back before moving on to celebrate with the next person. Somebody's arms wrapped around me and I looked over my shoulder at the player in a red jersey. I scowled and shoved the stranger off me, wiping the sweat he'd transferred to my hands off on my jeans with annoyance.

Soon enough the stands were clear of people, and I stood to leave. As I made my way off the field I caught a snatch of a conversation between the sheriff and somebody on the other end of the phone. I paused by the tree line as Stiles' father was told about Derek Hale's release. He hung up the phone with a heavy sigh, moving over to his son and mumbling what he'd found out. Stiles stepped back with wide eyes and his head shot to the direction I'd walked off in. it was impossible for him to see me in the dark, but I felt as though he met my eyes, heart pounding wildly in his chest as he turned and darted back towards the locker rooms where I knew he would be telling Scoot what he'd heard.

"How was your time in the slammer?" I asked lightly, pulling a cigarette from my bag and lighting it up, resting my weight against a thick tree trunk and not bothering to glance over my shoulder at the wolf who had padded up behind me almost silently. "Get any prison tattoos?"

"You could have gotten me out," he grumbled sourly, stopping beside me and staring out at the crowd of people slowly leaving the field.

"I didn't care enough to try," I told him honestly, lifting one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. I felt more than saw Derek scowl, and a smirk appeared on my lips as I turned to leave. "You'd better get rid of the evidence Scott left behind," I said, gesturing to the glove laying on the now-empty field. He didn't respond, but I didn't care, striding off into the comforting darkness where I belonged.