A/N: Hiya guys, slight Vampire Diaries crossover in this chapter, but it's okay if you don't watch it, you don't have to to understand it :)


So they dug your grave

And the masquerade

Will come calling out

At the mess you made

Don't wanna let you down

But I am hell bound

Demons – Imagine Dragons


I nodded along to the music playing from the turntable in the lounge, humming under my breath as I took my books off the shelves, wiping a cloth along the dusty wood and putting them back on. An annoying ringing broke the calm atmosphere, and I scowled, pulling the phone from my back pocket and answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Juliet!"

I blinked in surprise at the enthusiastic way I was greeted. "Stiles?" I asked, dropping the dirty rag to the floor and leaning against my bookshelves. "What do you want?"

"I'm-I'm trying to convince Scott that life goes on after you break up with your beau."

I pursed my lips, frowning at a stain on my carpet and asking, "Did you just say beau?" He snorted through the line and I pulled the phone from my ear, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath before moving it back into place. "Are you drunk?"

"As a skunk."

This time it was me that snorted, I rolled my eyes, caught between annoyed and amused. "Why did you call me, Stiles?" I asked sternly, trying to keep the humour from my tone.

"We were talking about girls," he slurred. "And I thought, 'hey, Juliet's a girl'."

"Very astute of you," I said sarcastically, no malice in my tone, as I fought off a smirk.

"Thank you," he said, voice overflowing with sincerity.

I rolled my eyes again, running a hand through my loose raven hair, pushing it off my face. "Was there a point to this call, or did you just want to reaffirm my gender?"

"Yes!" he responded, and I could tell he was nodding his head. "Yes, so can you please tell Scott, who's listening in by the way. Can you please tell him that there are other girls in the sea."

"How would I know that?"

"Because you've been around for like a billion years," he replied. I pursed my lips unhappily. I was only 203, and besides, I barely looked 18. "So you have lots of experience."

"Is that so?" I asked, crossing one arm over my chest and tilting my head even though he couldn't see.

"Yeah," he mumbled, sounding distracted and thoughtful before he said, "do you have a boyfriend?"

I looked at the roof, praying to every God I'd ever heard of to grant me patience. "No, Stiles," I said, succeeding in sounding only slightly annoyed. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Girlfriend?"

I chuckled, and found myself not minding that he heard. "No girlfriend either."

"Good."

I blinked, fixing my eyes on the light in the centre of the room. "Good?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, sounding much more confident yet very blaze. "Good." He was quiet for a long moment, nothing but the sound of his breathing echoing across the line. "I don't get why," he said thoughtfully. "I mean, I get that you come off a little rude and intimidating and honestly not very likeable at all."

I clenched my teeth, irritation growing within me. "Is there a point to this?"

"But that's just first impressions," he continued loudly. "I mean, once you get to know you, you're actually pretty cool, and tough, and still quite intimidating and mean but very beautiful."

"I'm a vampire, Stiles," I drawled, sounding as unimpressed as I felt. "We're all beautiful."

"And you're confident," he paused for a moment, and I could hear him thinking through the connection. "So is Lydia." I bit my tongue, forcing back an irritated growl. "And she's really pretty. And she doesn't eat people, which is always a plus."

"I'm going now," I said bluntly.

"No! No, wait-"

I didn't wait to see what he'd say next, merely ending the call and carelessly throwing my phone onto the couch. I frowned at the red fabric of the old pieces of furniture, my brow furrowed. I wasn't sure why I was so annoyed, I put it down to not appreciating being called while drunk and turned back to my bookcase. My books were more important than that kid anyway.


The next day the school was open again, and part of me was relieved. I'd been going stir crazy locked away in my house. Allison had called numerous times, she couldn't get together, all she wanted to do was talk. Mostly about Scott. I don't know why I was her first choice, the last thing I wanted was to come across as approachable, but apparently no matter how hard I tried somehow the humans kept coming at me like flies to honey.

"What am I going to do when I see Scott?" Allison asked, falling into step beside me, undeterred by my stormy glare. "How am I supposed to act?"

"I don't care," I replied tonelessly, and she faltered for a moment before rolling her eyes and carrying on.

"Come on," she said, grasping on to the sleeve of my trench coat and tugging. "This is serious."

I took a deep breath in, grinding my teeth together before deciding playing along would get me out of the situation sooner. "Ignore him," I told her, lifting one shoulder and letting it drop.

I glanced at her, she had her glossy lips pressed together and was frowning at the floor thoughtfully. "And if he talks to me?" she asked, still hanging onto my arm as I instinctively guided her around a small group of freshmen.

"Tell him to leave you alone or Juliet will kick his ass," I told her simply as we paused outside of the classroom our third period test was in. Her face brightened for a split second before dimming again, her earlier sadness overtaking her.

"That's something I'd pay to see," she said with a forced smile, looking me over like she knew there was no chance I could actually go through with it. I smirked, gently unwinding our arms and moving into the room, heading for a seat at the back.

I slid into the chair, crossing one leg over the other and staring stonily at the far wall. "Psst," a voice to my right hissed, and I looked over at Stiles, raising a single eyebrow expectantly as I watched the jittery boy tap his pen against the wood of the desk. He blinked in surprise when met with my blank stare, but, like Allison, quickly moved past it. "Do you think you'll pass?" he whispered curiously.

"Considering I've taken this class seven times before," I began with a curled lip, keeping my voice just quiet enough not to be overheard, "I'd say it's pretty damn likely."

His nose crinkled like I'd said something distasteful, and I absolutely did not find it cute. "Wanna impart some of your wisdom unto me?" he asked hopefully, leaning further across the gap between our seats. I didn't dignify that with a response, instead levelling him with a flat, unimpressed stare. His expression fell and he grumbled unintelligently under his breath, moving back to sit properly on his seat and pout immaturely.

I caught a whiff of wet dog as Scott stepped into the room, and I glanced at Allison, listening to the sound of her heart picking up. "Allison," the kid said, stopping in front of her desk at looking at her with those heartbroken puppy-dog eyes.

"Mr McCall," Harris said loudly, leaning into his view. "Please take a seat." Scott grit his teeth but complied, silently stepping up to his desk, the one in front of Stiles, and sliding into his seat, gently placing his bag on the floor. "You have forty-five minutes to complete the test," the teacher said, standing behind his podium and staring at the small sea of students with blank eyes. "Twenty-five percent of your grade can be earned right now simply by writing your name on the cover of the blue book." There was a rustle of paper beside me and I glanced across the isle, my lips twitching up into a humoured smirk as I watched Stiles eagerly scribble his name in blue biro. I moved to do the same, the smirk sitting comfortably on my lips as I slowly wrote my name in perfect nineteenth-century calligraphy. "Begin," Harris said after a long moment of rambling about disappointment, clicking the start button on his timer.

I opened the booklet, already bored with the whole thing. I sighed, my eyes flickering over the words and circling the correct answers after only a moment. I was on the second page a few moments later when I decided to slow down, the faster I went the sooner I'd be done, but if I was done too quickly I'd be stuck without anything to do. "Is the answer to question three 'A'?" Stiles asked, his voice barely carrying on his breath as he not-so-subtly side-eyed me. Not in the mood, my hand shot out and slowly I lifted a single finger in the air for him to view. "I'll take that as a no."

Despite myself I smirked again, though the expression quickly melted when I heard the distinctive sound of a heart to my right begin to pick up speed. It wouldn't have concerned me if I hadn't known there was a young, volatile werewolf in the room with me. I frowned, my pen pausing where it was on the page mid-word.

I slid my gaze to Scott, watching as he glanced around wildly, heart slamming against his sternum. I had a few options here: I could let him work through it, maybe he'd get better maybe he'd get worse, either way it was up to him; I could let him figure out he had to get out of here himself; or, I could take matters into my own hands.

I knew which option I had to choose, my new-found humanity didn't give me a choice, either I dealt with it or people could die. With an irritated sigh I dropped my pen, standing up somewhat violently, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. Every head in the room turned to look at me, but I paid them zero mind, focusing on stalking the few steps over to Scott's desk and grasping him by the collar. He barely fought me, allowing me to yank him to his feet and drag him from the room.

"Ms Cooper!" Harris called furiously as I yanked him through the door, not bothering to cast a look back. "Mr McCall!" The was a beat of silence before, "Mr Stilinski!" I huffed in exasperation as I heard him call the last name, but didn't slow down to let the human catch up.

"Juliet-" Scott tried but I ignored him, dragging him further down the hall, away from any potential casualties. "Locker room," he growled, and I knew what he meant. He was still in the right frame of mind to be able to tell me where he thought he'd be safest and least likely to hurt anyone. I didn't chance letting him go though, pulling him by the collar to the right down a hall and into the boy's locker room.

What to do from there was surprisingly obvious, I all but threw him onto the floor in the showers, slipping closer to him to ensure he wouldn't escape and turning the knobs, cold water spilling out over both of us. I grit my teeth in irritation but didn't say anything, waiting for him to find his feet on his own.

"Scott?" Stiles' voice echoed through the empty halls. "Juliet?! Scott?!"

There was a moment of silence and then Scott's phone began to ring from his rapidly soaking pocket. The sound bounced around the ceramic walls, and footsteps slowly began to make their way towards our position. I didn't move, standing over a panting Scott, my hands braced on the wall as I watched him carefully, looking for any small sign he was going to try and escape. He thrashed against the wet tile, all but ripping off his top, allowing the water to cool his heated skin.

"Stiles," he gasped as his best friend approached, stepping into the room, his shoes no doubt getting wet. "I can't-"

"What's wrong? Are you changing?" the boy asked worriedly as I cautiously turned off the water, the cool water dripping on me twice more before stopping completely.

"No," he said, sounding pained. "I can't breathe."

"Here," Stiles said, lifting up the bag I assumed to be Scott's and digging around in it, holding out an old puffer for the teen wolf to use. "Use this," at his words the boy stared, perplexed by his suggestion. "Come on," he prompted impatiently even as the wolf gasped for air. "Use it."

Scott grabbed for the puffer, wrapping his lips around it and taking a deep breath in. There was a pregnant pause before the boy perked up, slowly sliding to his feet, his heart finally slowing. I stepped to the side, running a hand through my wet hair to push it out of my eyes, and staying close to his side, just in case he snapped again. "I was having an asthma attack?" he asked confusedly.

"No," Stiles answered, rocking forwards on his heels. "You were having a panic attack. But thinking you were having an asthma attack actually stopped the panic attack," he divulged, hands gesturing wildly. "Irony," he sang, and I had to hold back a smile.

"How did you know to do that?"

"I used to get them after my mom died," Stiles said, and something deep within me twinged. I tried keep how it affected me from showing on my face, but I don't think I succeeded, because Stiles' gaze flickered to me before focusing back on his friend. "Not fun, huh?"

"I looked at her and it was like somebody hit me in the ribs with a hammer," he admitted, breathing heavily and trying to make sense of it all in his head.

"Yeah, it's called heartbreak," Stiles replied, brows lifting as he spoke. "About two billion songs written about it."

"I can't stop thinking about her," Scott said, and I leaned my weight against the wall, rolling my eyes, already wishing I was anywhere else.

"Well you could think about this: her dad's a werewolf hunter and you're a werewolf so...bound to become an issue," he told him with a small laugh. Scott shot him a pained look and the boy grimaced, "that wasn't helpful...God. Dude, I mean yeah, you got dumped but it's supposed to suck."

"No, that's not it. It was like I could feel everything in the room, I could feel everyone's emotions."

"That would be the full moon," I spoke up, reminding them that I was there. "I mean, I may not know much about werewolf biological chemistry," I said casually, lifting one heavy weighed down with water shoulder and letting it drop. "But I know one thing. Full moon equals bad news."

"So we'll lock you up in your room later just like we planned," Stiles continued. "That way the alpha, who's your boss, can't get to you either."

"I think we need to do a lot more than lock me in my room," Scott responded darkly, frowning at the floor.

"What, you mean because if you get out you'll be caught by hunters?"

"No," he shook his head. "Because if I get out, I think I might kill someone."

Stiles didn't say anything for a long moment, considering his friend carefully. "Okay," he nodded, taking the words in his stride and looking up at me, very obviously working hard to keep his eyes from my see-through shirt. "Juliet can stay too."

"Excuse me?" I asked, arching a single eyebrow at him, my expression dangerous, though it did little to deter him.

"Yeah," he said, nodding along to his own idea. "You can come to Scott's house tonight and guard him while he's under the spell of the moon."

I snorted, crossing my arms over my chest and staring at him incredulously. "Under the spell of the-"

"That way if he escapes or anything, you'll be there to do damage control," he said, perking up as he divulged his brilliant idea.

"Who says I'll be willing to help?" I asked sourly, but Stiles only chortled like I'd made a joke. I growled quietly as an outlet for my anger but otherwise didn't respond. I turned to Scott, who was still leaned against the wall, clearly exhausted from his panic attack. "Are you going to be okay?" I asked him as gently as I could, worried he was going to start hyperventilating again or something.

"Yeah," he nodded, not sounding very confident in his answer.

I awkwardly raised my hand, going to pat him on the shoulder, but ultimately decided against it, letting it drop back to my side. "Call if you need anything," I said with an accompanying glare that very obviously warned them not to need anything. I slipped passed Stiles, probably looking very much like a drowned kitten, my shoes squeaking loudly and slightly embarrassingly as I stormed from the room, wet footprints the only proof I was ever there.


I took in a deep drag of my cigarette, holding the smoke in my lungs for a good few seconds before blowing it out of the corner of my mouth. "Heading to watch practise?" a familiar voice asked, and I looked to my left to see Allison sitting on a bench near the road, ankles crossed daintily, phone in her hand.

"Home actually," I told her, flicking the ash from the end of my stick and shifting the weight of the bag on my shoulder.

"Is Scott okay?"

I peered at her over the top of my sunglasses. She looked sheepish to be asking, but like she couldn't help herself. "He'll be fine," I said carefully, taking another deep breath of chemicals. She continued to stare up at me worriedly, a little crease appearing between her brows. "Panic attack," I elaborated, flicking the ash from the tip of my cigarette.

She slumped her shoulders, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and gazing sorrowfully at the cracked concrete by her feet. I felt like I should say something, though I didn't have the slightest clue what. "Uh," I began awkwardly, peeking up at the sky to avoid her eyes. "I would have done the same thing in your situation."

She was quiet, but I didn't chance a look down at her, the last thing I wanted was to be sucked into that doe-eyed expression of hers. "Why do I get the feeling you know exactly what happened that night?"

It was a fair enough question, also completely and entirely correct. My lips twitched and I pressed them together to contain my bitter smile. "Probably because I do know exactly what happened that night."

"Let me guess," she began, a frown marring her face. "You can't tell me."

"Not my secret to tell," I shrugged honestly. I figured I'd best move on before she started asking questions I really couldn't answer. "I'll see you later, Allison."

"But Juliet-"

I didn't give her a chance to sink those blunt little nails of hers in, merely turning away and heading down the path heading east, where I could take a shortcut through the woods to my house. I walked at a human pace, not caring enough to speed, taking my time climbing over fallen trees and winding through a labyrinth of ferns. I was only a few minutes away from my house when my phone began buzzing from my pocket.

It was an unknown number, but I answered it anyway, otherwise they would probably just keep calling. "Hello?" I said into the phone, stepping over a thick log, my boots sinking slightly into the soft, moist earth.

"Well, well, well," the familiar voice on the other end of the call said. "If it isn't little miss Adams. I didn't think you'd actually answer."

"I'm a barrel of surprises today," I told my old friend (and I use that term loosely). "What can I do for you?" I asked, my tone making it clear I wasn't in the mood to be doing any favours.

"You could come down to Virginia," he replied, and I could hear the coy smirk in his voice. "I'm at a bar with a mutual old friend of ours, figured you might like to join."

"Wish I could," I said, obviously wishing the opposite. "But unfortunately I'm on the west coast at the moment, a little town known as Beacon Hills."

"You mean the Californian central for all things supernatural?"

"You're not wrong," I hummed, stepping from the trees and crossing my backyard, the top of the grass brushing my thighs. I really needed to do some maintenance on the dump.

"What the hell are you doing there?" he asked me as I made my way up the old wooden porch stairs and across to the backdoor, which I'd left unlocked.

I shrugged, although he couldn't see it. "Needed a change, figured it was as good a place as any."

"Run into any Big-Bads?"

"As a matter of fact, we do have a little bit of a rouge, murderous, psychotic alpha problem over here," I said, slipping my bag off my shoulder and dropping it onto the dining room table. "Don't reckon you fancy coming over to lend a hand?"

"Sorry Juliet," he responded, clearly not sorry in the slightest. "Got enough problems of our own here in Mystic Falls."

"Katherine still giving you trouble?"

"Please," he scoffed through the line. "That bitch is harmless these days. I'm talking serious problems, as in, Original problems."

It took me a long moment to process what he meant, and by the time it'd sunk in I was practically gaping at the far wall. I was about to say something when my attention snapped to the Jeep pulling up in my drive. "I have to go," I said in annoyance. "But I'm calling back later and I expect every last detail."

"You got it Princess."

I growled in frustration, pulling the phone from my ear and ending the call before he could say anything else, tossing it onto a bench and stalking to the door. I took a deep breath, calming myself down before turning the handle, revealing a flustered Stiles, fist held up ready to knock.

He looked surprised to see me there, which was odd, considering it was my house. "Yes?" I asked levelly, raising a single eyebrow at him.

"Uh, I'm here to pick you up?" he said, sounding completely unsure of himself. "You know, for the full moon tonight?"

I watched him closely before glancing up at the sun, determining it's position in the sky. "Shouldn't you still be at practise?" I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning on the doorframe.

"Uh, that's another thing..." he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

I rolled my eyes, stepping back and gesturing for him to come through. "Come on," I said, sharp and to the point. "I need to eat before we go anyway, might as well tell me while I do it."

He nodded once, a jerky movement, before slipping through the door, his sneakers squeaking against the polished wooden floor. I shut the door behind him, moving through the hall and into the kitchen. Stiles stared at everything in sight, drinking it all in. I pushed him in the direction of the barstools lined by the bench, and he stumbled into one as I wandered over to the fridge, pulling out a blood packet. Behind me, Stiles gagged.

"What?" I asked with a frown and I moved over to the microwave, putting the bag in the machine and turning it on, the inside lighting up, a soft humming noise filling the room. "I told you I was eating," I said defensively, suddenly wondering if it had been such a good idea. What if it was too much and he decided he could never look me in the eye again? Would I care? Probably.

"Yeah, I just thought you meant like, cold pizza or a burrito or something," he mumbled in reply, and I gave an unamused chuckle, leaning back against the bench as I waited for him to speak. He took my queue, resting his forearms on the bench and launching into his story. "So Scott completely attacked Danny at practise today." He paused, apparently waiting for something, though I just stared back stonily. His nose crinkled with something like disapproval, but he continued anyway. "He's fine, by the way." Oh, right...Compassion.

"Where's Scott now?" I asked, not sure what else to say.

"We're meeting him at his house," he said distractedly, a furious scowl appearing on his lips. "You know what else he did?" he barrelled on. "He kissed Lydia!"

"No!" I gasped dramatically, as though I were in any way emotionally invested.

"Yes!" he responded loudly, oblivious to my sarcasm. "He told me he was going to find out if she liked me, then he totally made out with her."

"What a dog!" I exclaimed as the microwave beeped. I pulled it open and slipped out the warmed blood bag, tearing off the stopper and putting the tube to my lips.

"Yeah, he's totally-" he cut himself off, glaring at me suspiciously. "You don't care, do you?"

"Not in the slightest."

He sighed, blinking rapidly as he caught sight of the blood travelling up the tube and to my lips and grimacing in disgust. Something about the expression made my stomach clench unpleasantly, but I ignored it, trying not to think about it and focusing on the feeling of contented bliss the liquid gave me.

I continued to drink, ignoring how uncomfortable he seemed. "Who's that?" he asked after a moment, obviously desperate to have the conversation off the topic of my diet. I followed his line of sight, my eyes resting on a single framed picture hanging in the entryway.

"That's Macy," I said, giving no further explanation.

"Who's Macy?" he asked, pushing harder. I frowned but decided there was no harm in telling the boy.

"She's my last living descendant," I said, immediately cringing as the words came out. "Was my last living descendant, I suppose."

He was quiet for a long time but I didn't look at him, keeping my eyes trained on the photograph. "When did she pass?" he asked in what was a surprisingly gentle tone.

"Just under a year, now," I told him, licking away a drop of blood that dripped from my lips. I figured I'd already gone that far, maybe if he knew everything, just maybe this whole 'friendship' thing might actually work out. "She's the reason I don't kill anyone," I admitted before I fully knew what I was doing. Stiles' eyes widened in shock. "She made me promise to be better. So I left my old life behind, moved here and steal from the hospital to get by."

"Are there others?" he asked quietly. "Like you?"

"Other vampires?" He nodded and I drank the last of my meal before rolling up the empty bag and shoving it in the trash under my sink. "Of course there are. There're hundreds of us all over the world. Thousands, even. We're much more common than werewolves, that's for sure."

"Why?"

"Because a very long time ago a very old vampire killed them all off until there were so few left that everyone questioned whether they were actually real in the first place." I glanced at the Grandfather clock in the corner, taking in the time before looking through the window at the sky. "That's enough of the supernatural history lesson for one night," I told him, zipping up my leather jacket and picking up my things. "We should head to Scott's."

"Yeah," he nodded, though clearly his mind was on other things. I led him through the house and out the door, this time locking it behind me before joining him in the Jeep.

"I assume you have the chains and handcuffs and the like?" I said, shifting in my seat to face him, watching as he glanced at his blind spot before turning down a side street.

"Of course," he replied, gesturing with his thumb to the duffel bag sitting on the backseat. I reached back, pulling it open to glance inside.

"Impressive," I told him, sitting back properly, facing the front.

"Just call me Mr BDSM." I let that comment sit for a long moment, watching from the corner of my eye as he slowly flushed red. "I don't know why I said that," he said uncomfortably, shifting in the seat and we turned down another street. I chuckled quietly, rolling my eyes at him in a way that was not even slightly fond as he pulled up outside what I was sure was Scott's house. "Come on," he said, the blotchy red marks slowly fading from his pale skin.

I slid out of the car, shoving my hands in my pockets and following him up the drive. I heard movement from inside, but didn't question it, trusting the boy knew what he was doing as I watched him pull out a key and slide it into the lock.

"Scott?" a kind voice asked as he stepped inside, while I hung back, obviously realising something Stiles hadn't.

"Stiles," he chimed awkwardly as a pretty woman stepped around the corner.

"Plus one," I added from over the threshold, waving at the lady politely.

"Key," she said after a moment, staring at the key in the boy's hand.

"Yeah, I had one made..." he replied, completely unaware of how weird he was being. I resisted the urge to face-palm, instead closing my eyes and begging for patience.

"That doesn't surprise me. Scares me, but doesn't surprise me."

Stiles smiled good-naturedly, letting the duffel slip from his grip and hit the floor with a thunk.

"What is that?" she asked, raising her delicate eyebrows.

"Uh, school project."

"Uh huh," she said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously before focusing on me standing awkwardly behind him, still standing out in the cool night air. "And who is that?"

Stiles spun around, staring at me where I stood, looking wildly between me and the threshold before smacking the heel of his hand to his head. "Oh man, I completely forgot!"

"Juliet Cooper, ma'am," I introduced myself respectfully, ignoring how obvious the boy was being, keeping my hands in my pockets as I knew I wouldn't be able to lean through the barrier. "I'm a friend of Stiles and your son."

"Please, call me Melissa," she responded with a kind smile before looking between Stiles and I suspiciously.

"Uh, she's helping Scott and I with the project," he supplied, getting his act together and focusing on the task at hand, though he still looked uneasy about the whole barrier thing.

"May I?" I asked politely, gesturing to the inside of her home.

"Oh, of course," she said, nodding me through. "Please, come in, don't stand out in the cold."

I smiled gratefully as she said those magic little words, glancing at Stiles with a smug smirk before cautiously pushing one leg through the barrier that was now completely gone. I stepped all the way inside, huddling into my jacket as though it were possible for me to get cold.

"Now that I think about it, I remember Scott mentioning a Juliet a few times before. Are you new to town?"

"Yes, I am," I replied with a bow of my head. "I was just emancipated from my family a few months ago, I moved here for a fresh start."

"Oh," she said, clearly taken aback by my statement. Her smile faltered with sympathy for a long moment before it was back in place. "Well, if you ever need anything..."

"Thank you," I said, a sincere smile of my own spreading across my red painted lips.

I stepped out of her way, letting her shuffle passed me, obviously on her way to work judging by the nursing scrubs she was wearing. "Stiles, he's okay, right?" she asked quietly, pausing at the door while I moved over to the set of frames hung on the far wall, pretending like I couldn't hear every word they were saying.

"Who? Scott?" Stiles asked loudly. "Yeah. Totally."

"He just doesn't talk to me that much anymore, not like he used to."

"Well he's had a bit of a rough week."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," she sighed, before perking up. "Okay, you know be careful tonight. Both of you."

I wandered back over, the conversation no long private. "You too," Stiles said, making reassuring finger pistols at her.

"Full moon."

Both of us froze, staring at her with wide eyes. Did she know? "What?"

"There's a full moon tonight," she responded innocently with a small laugh. "You should see how the ER gets. It brings out all the nut-jobs."

Stiles very obviously sagged with relief while I was much more subtle, my clenched fists relaxing. "Right," he chuckled, playing it off.

"You know, it's actually where they came up with the word 'lunatic'."

With a final welcoming smile to me and a pat on the back for Stiles she was out the door, pulling it shut behind her. I tilted my head to the side, listening to the sound of a heartbeat pumping steadily from upstairs. I followed the sound, silently padding up the stairs, rolling my eyes at how loud Stiles was in comparison. I slipped into the room, my eyes adjusting to the darkness easily as I watched Scott sit in a chair in the corner, staring steadily back. "Hey, how'd you know which-" a loud scream abruptly stopped his words as he flicked the light on and spotted Scott sitting in the corner. "Oh my God!" he huffed, and even though his reaction was hilarious, something about the look in Scott's eyes made it impossible for me to force a smile on my lips. "Dude, you scared the hell out of me." He turned to me, nudging me in the shoulder with annoyance. "A little warning would have been nice," he looked back at the wolf, "we thought you weren't home yet?"

"I came in through the window."

"Okay," he said in response to his friend's deadpan. "Well, let's get this stuff set up. Wait until you see what I've bought."

"I'm fine. I'm just going to lock the door and go to bed early tonight."

"You sure about that?" Stiles asked, looking up from where he was crouched by the bag of chains. "'Cause you've got this kinda serial killer look going on in your eyes and I'm hoping it's the full moon taking affect because it's really starting to freak me out."

I leaned against the wall, trying not to blink so I didn't for a second take my eyes from the dangerous teen wolf. "I'm fine," Scott said darkly. "You should both go now."

Stiles looked over his shoulder at me, but I didn't look back, merely shaking my head negatively, his heart racing with worry. "Alright, I'll leave," he said, looking back at his friend. "Look, would you at least look in the bag and see what I've bought?"

He slowly pushed himself from the armchair, moving over and kneeling by the duffel. "You think I'm going to let you put these on? Chain me up like a dog?" I bit back a smart remark about how he was a dog, figuring that would only inflame the situation.

"Actually no." Even I was surprised when the human boy leapt forwards, tugging the handcuffs free and quick as lightening cuffed him to the radiator.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Scott yelled, enraged.

"Protecting you from yourself," Stiles retorted darkly, stepping out of the wolf's reach. "And giving you some payback for making out with Lydia."

I let my eyes slide shut and I took a deep breath, mentally rolling my eyes at the petty boy with a crush. "Stiles, let me out now," he growled, pulling at the thin metal of the cuffs. "Juliet," he tried a different tactic, looking up at me with wide, puppy-dog eyes. "Come on, you know I'm not a danger to anyone. I don't deserve this."

Stiles scoffed, turning on his heel and storming from the room. I stayed where I was, unwilling to look away from Scott for even a second.

"Come on, Juliet," he said, voice saccharine and desperate. I kept my arms crossed tightly, glaring at him stonily, unwavering in my caution. When I didn't move his voice darkened along with his eyes. "Of course not," he muttered bitterly. "You're just a soulless vampire, incapable of compassion." My expression didn't so much as flinch, but internally something in my chest squeezed painfully when his words hit home. "No one here is every going to love you. Not really," he continued, eyes a glowing amber. "Not me, not Allison, and certainly not Stiles."

My jaw clenched, teeth grinding together, every instinct in me screaming to attack. But I was too wise for that, I'd been around too long to let him get the better of me.

Stiles reappeared a few minutes later, water bottle and dog bowl in hand. "I brought you some water," he said, holding up the bowl with the werewolf's name written on the side and pouring the water in with a cocky smirk that I absolutely did not find attractive, completely oblivious to what had just happened while he was gone.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Scott snarled the second the boy's back was turned, the bowl flying through the air on a collision course with his head. I stretched out a hand, plucking it from the air with ease, letting it drop harmlessly to my feet.

"You kissed her Scott? Okay? You kissed Lydia," I rolled my eyes at where the conversation was going but otherwise didn't comment. I listened to them argue, listened to Stiles tell him what a shit friend he was as Scott goaded him, teasing him with a smirk. Eventually the human boy had had enough, unable to take it any more he slipped from the room, his heart pounding violently against his chest. I looked between Scott and the doorway, ultimately deciding that it made more sense to check if Stiles was okay. I didn't want him to have a panic attack or something, and Scott wasn't going anywhere. With a sigh and a warning glare at Scott I rounded the corner, stopping dead as I saw Stiles curled up in a ball on the floor just outside the room.

I stared at him for a long moment, watching the way his arms curled tightly around his knees, taking deep, calming breaths. Hesitantly I pressed myself to the wall and slowly slid down until I sat beside the boy. I let my legs spread out, leaning so close to him that I could feel his body warmth heating up my own stone cold flesh.

I stared at the far wall, counting the cracks in the paint as I listened to Stiles' heart slowly calm itself. "Are you okay?" I asked him after at least a good ten minutes. He sighed, pressing his forehead to his knees before sitting up properly. I felt rather than saw his head turn towards me, feeling his eyes on the side of my face. I pretended I couldn't though, continuing to stare expressionlessly at the wall.

He watched me for a long time before finally speaking. "I will be," he sighed, resting his chin on his arm and keeping his eyes on me. "Once this damn night is over."

"Yeah," I agreed, huffing out a breath, the force blowing a piece of hair from my face, only for it to float back into place a moment later.

"Are you okay?" I looked at him in surprise. He ducked his head somewhat sheepishly. "I heard him yelling at you." If it were possible, my face would have paled. "I couldn't make out what he was saying through the floorboards, I could just hear him yelling. I'm sure whatever it was wasn't compliments on your hair." I didn't say anything. I didn't even know if I was okay. I was still relatively new to the whole 'emotions' deal, was what I was feeling hurt? "I'm sure whatever it was was a lie."

"You didn't hear him," I said, surprising even myself. I sounded sad, so that must have been how I felt? "I've never heard anything so true."

He shifted, his arm moving like he was going to put it around me but he changed his mind at the last minute. I wasn't upset, I wouldn't want to put my arm around a dead girl either. I opened my mouth to say something else (though I wasn't sure what) when a scent caught my attention. A very strong, very irresistible scent. A gasp escaped my mouth and every muscle in me tensed. "Juliet?" Stiles asked worriedly, noticing that I'd stopped breathing. He peered around the corner at Scott, eyes widening as he spotted the bloody wound that had appeared on his wrist from tugging at the cuffs. He snapped back into place, heart picking up once more, clearly stressed.

I don't know what I was expecting him to do, but slide his hand into mine certainly wasn't it. I tensed even more, but he didn't let go. While I would usually only feel hungrier when faced with the warm blood pumping under the skin, something about this offered me only comfort.

"You fed only an hour ago," he said, winding his fingers through mine and squeezing. "Besides, it's werewolf blood, and last I heard, that was the most disgusting kinda blood."

Despite myself a spluttered laugh managed to escape me.

"I'm no expert, but maybe take a few breaths? Get used to it?" he offered, and I found it entirely sweet how he was trying so hard to help. Though I was sure it was a bad idea, I did as asked and slowly took a deep breath in. Considering I was so full of blood that my stomach felt sloshy, it was relatively easy to stop myself from giving over to the bloodlust. "You alright?" he asked softly after a long couple of minutes, squeezing my hand again.

"Yeah," I nodded, taking another experimental breath in, letting the taste scent of the blood sit with me for a moment before letting it out. I looked up at him, reluctant to say anything but feeling like I should. He looked back down at me, a soft sort of worry on his face. "Thank you."

"All in a days work," he responded cheekily, and for a split second we forgot that there was a potentially homicidal werewolf cuffed to the radiator a room over.

"Stiles, please let me out."

All at once any pleasant emotions drained from us, dread once again filling our expressions. I pasted an indifferent mask over my face, turning back to face the opposite wall, however my hand didn't for a moment slip from Stiles'.

"It's the full moon, I swear," Scott panted from the other room. "You know I wouldn't do any of this on purpose. Please Stiles, let me out, it's starting to hurt. It's not like the first time. It's the full moon. It's Allison breaking up with me," he continued. I rolled my eyes, tipping my head back until it thumped against the wall. "I know that it's not just 'taking a break'. She broke up with me, and it's killing me. I feel completely hopeless. Just please, let me out."

Stiles' heartbeat picked up again, and he squeezed my hand so hard that if I were human something may have snapped. He glanced at me, and I could see the turmoil in his head. He pleaded with his eyes, begging me to help him. I squeezed his hand back, meeting his gaze and shaking my head softly.

"I can't," he finally said, defeat in his gaze as he dropped his forehead to rest on my shoulder. I stared down at the boy with wide, shocked eyes. What did someone do in this sort of situation? Should I push him off? Awkwardly slide out from under him? Yell at him? After a long minute I decided that if this was somehow comforting to the boy, then there was no harm in letting him continue to do it. He gave off so much heat, it was like someone was pressing an iron to my shoulder, I could feel the warmth even through my leather jacket.

In his bedroom, Scott began to scream. I felt Stiles wince as he clutched my hand tighter, I had no idea how he could stand the temperature of my dead flesh, but he didn't seem to mind, curling further in on himself, and therefore, me. If I had a heartbeat, it would have gone off the charts.

Scott continued to scream, and Stiles continued to freak out, and I continued to feel awkward but not entirely uncomfortable. Then I heard the faint sound of metal breaking apart, and footsteps on the ground outside. I shot up, all but shoving Stiles off of me as I disappeared, reappearing in Scott's bedroom, staring in horror at the snapped cuffs and pool of blood beneath them.

"Scott?" Stiles called worriedly, rushing into the room behind me. "Oh my God," he muttered, staring out the window, dread on his features.

"I'll follow him, keep him out of trouble," I said, stepping over the blood and slipping one leg out the window.

"What if he bites you?" he asked, a severe frown on his lips. I shrugged; I didn't have a good answer. "Just..." he began, clenching his hands into fists like he didn't know what to do with them. "Be careful."

I took the time to look back, throwing the boy my brightest and hopefully most reassuring smile before I launched myself from the windowsill. I landed on my feet and took off running, following the scent of wet dog leading down the street. He'd taken off into the forest, but it was easier to track him there with his scent rubbed off on the logs and trees. I still wasn't an expert on the town, so I had no idea where he was heading. I followed at a safe distance, I figured trying to keep him held down would only equal permanent death for me, so I stayed back, running behind him, making sure he didn't come across any campers or anything of the sort.

He seemed like he was running with a purpose, so I wasn't too surprised when he darted from the forest and into a parking lot, leaping onto the top of a beat up old car and peering through the darkness at something. I could clearly see and hear Allison and Jackson in a car on the other end of the lot.

I sighed, mentally rolling up my sleeves and preparing to take a run at him. Out of nowhere a figure leapt from the shadows, crashing into Scott and sending them both flying off the edge of the hill at the end of the lot. My eyes widened and darted after them, reappearing behind a tree only a few feet from where the two fought. Judging by the smell it was Derek Hale, and my eyebrows raised as I watched the two wolves fight it out.

"A little help?" Derek growled and he took a swipe at the teen wolf. I stepped out into the open, fangs slipping from my gums, blood draining to my eyes. I met them in the middle, grabbing Scott by the scruff and holding him up for Derek to get a good punch in. I let him go as his fist connected with his face, allowing the force to throw him to the forest floor.

Derek immediately crouched down, snarling in the teen's face. Scott scrambled back, trying to put some distance between he and the older wolf. Derek stepped closer, his features melting away until he was left looking human once again.

"What's happening to me?" Scott asked, breathing heavily. I relaxed my hands, a slight sting as my fangs disappeared back up into my gums, and the blood left my eyes, the veins around them disappearing.

"Exactly what he wants to happen," Derek said stonily, peering down at the boy through the darkness. Scott sagged, holding his head in his hands.

I shifted my weight, looking at Derek with a smirk. "Congratulations on not being dead."

"I'd say the same to you but last time I checked..." he trailed off, I would have even called it playful if not for the severe look in his eyes.

I crinkled my nose at him but didn't take the bait, instead rolling my eyes and taking a step closer to a shaking Scott. I crouched down to his level waiting impatiently for him to look up at me. He finally did, eyes round and innocent. "Are you going to be okay with Derek?" I asked him softly, trying to be as gentle with the kid as I could. "I should go find Stiles, no doubt he's looking all over for you; freaking out."

"Yeah," he said, sounding choked. "I'll be fine."

I awkwardly reached out, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "Everything will be fine, Scott," I told him in what was hopefully a reassuring way. "You'll see."

"'Cause you're the eternal optimist," he responded sarcastically, taking a page from Stiles' book.

My lips twitched up. "At least something good came out of tonight," I said with a teasing smirk. "You gained a sense of humour."

He looked like he was trying to grin back, but it came across as more of a grimace. I patted him one last time before sliding to me feet, shooting Derek a serious look. "Take him straight home," I told him sternly.

He looked like he wanted to snap back, but after taking a look at the boy changed his mind, simply nodding before bending down to help him to his feet. I watched them for one more moment before turning around and fading into the night.