AN: Ahhh chapter 2! Thanks so much for all the love you guys have already given the story. It really encourages me to continue with the story

Enjoy!


Celebrate the irony,

Everything is going wrong,

But we're so happy

Fallon's eyes scanned over the crowd of teenagers herded within the stark white cafeteria walls. She searched from table to table looking for a place to sit. She usually sat with Stiles, they wouldn't talk much, she would read and he'd try to do some of his homework from his morning classes, but it was company, and she thoroughly enjoyed his presence.

Stiles had made up with Scott, so he decided to sit with him, Allison, Jackson, and Lydia to recover the friendship that had started to slip up a little bit. She didn't feel comfortable sitting with them, she had never had a real conversation with any of them. She had shared quick waves and smiles with Allison, who seemed sweet enough. She had asked Scott where Stiles was, exchanged some thoughts about lacrosse, but had never contacted each other for other reasons. She had discussed some literature with Lydia, who was actually very witty and intelligent, despite how many mean things people said about her. As far as Jackson went, she wasn't even sure he knew she existed.

Her eyes caught on to a boy with his chin to his chest, sitting in the far corner of the cafeteria near the trash cans, alone. She decided that if she sat on the other end of the table, she could eat her brown bag lunch and avoid awkward small talk with the curly haired boy. Fallon walked over to the table, treading lightly on the tile floor. She began opening up her bag, when she noticed his eyes landing on her, using her peripheral vision.

"Sorry, there was nowhere else t-" She cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brow. "Isaac? Hey!" She let the tension in her muscles relax, now that she recognized the lone boy.

"Hello," Isaac gave a barely there smile, and nodded towards her, making his curls bounce and dance.

"You're usually sitting with Stiles." It was his turn to cock his head to the side, licking his chapped lips.

"Yes, well, Stiles is sitting with Scott today, so I decided to sit with you. Is that okay?" She raised an eyebrow and brought her knee up to sit cross legged on the bench attached to the table.

"Yeah, of course!" He grinned at her, the first genuine smile she'd seen him pull. She began biting into her apple, and she made note of him looking at the notebook she cradled in her lap, with a pink pen tucked inside of the spiral.

"What's that notebook? I see you carry it around a lot." He rested his chin on the heels of both of his hands, looking as if he was thoroughly curious as to what her notebook contained. She had never shown anybody what was inside, nobody had ever cared enough to ask.

"It's, um, stuff I wrote. Poems, stories, you know. There's even a few pages of, just, one or two sentences I jotted down, but never turned into anything." She looked up at him, gnawing on her bottom lip. Nobody knew that she liked to write, maybe her English teacher that had praised her for some of her essays assumed she wrote a bit outside of the mandatory essays about the War of 1812 or Edgar Allen Poe, but it wasn't something she was comfortable to share. But here she was, telling it to the strange boy she had barely even had a conversation with.

"Who's your favorite poet?" He looked at her with an eager passion in his eyes, chewing on his thumb nail, patiently waiting for her reply.

"Hm," She hummed a short beat and began playing with the silver ring on her thumb. "I like Richard Siken… Sylvia Plath, too. Yeah, I like those two the most I guess."

He nodded at her, glancing down at the food displayed in front of him. He fluttered his eyes closed before beginning.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. I think I made you up inside my head. The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, and arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed and sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. I think I made you up inside my head." He opened his eyes and gave a hesitant smile, still looking down at the tabletop in front of him.

"That's my favorite of hers," She reached over the table and placed a single finger onto his wrist. He didn't flinch this time, but she notice goosebumps rise on his skin, making the blonde hairs on his forearm stand. He began to speak again, but the bell dismissing them from lunch interrupted his thoughts. They both stood from the bench simultaneously.

She looked at him, going over his facial features. The way his cheek bones jutted out, causing a curve between them and his jawbone. His jawbone was sharp as a knife, but the playfulness in his eyes and gentle nature made him look soft, youthful, fragile. She noticed the small cut in the center of his bruised lip.


Fallon only had the fridge open, in preparation of making herself some dinner, for a few quick seconds, before she heard someone stumble into her home, panting heavily.

"Stiles? What the hell?" She looked at the boy who was red in the face, sweat glistening on his forehead. He put his hands on his knees and doubled over, trying to fill his deprived lungs with much needed air.

"Sc-Scott… Scott… Scott's a-" He raised his hands to demonstrate claws, and made an exasperated hissing noise while bulging his eyes so much they nearly fell out of his head.

"Alright," she put her hands on Stiles' shoulders and pushed him into a sitting position on the red suede couch. "Chill out a little bit, then explain why you just broke into my house talking about Scott having… claws? Is that what you were trying to demonstrate?" He looked at her with a flabbergasted expression.

"I didn't break into your house, the door was unlocked. Which is actually really foolish, there's been a lot of murders around here, seriously, what were you thinking?" She rolled her eyes at his accusation, he was the one who had barged through the door sweating and heaving like he was running from the cops.

"Why are you here, Stiles?"

"Okay, you have to listen to me for a second. Scott and I were going through the woods a few nights ago, looking for the other half of that body that they-"

"Are you shitting me? Someone gets ripped in half and you two thinks it's a good idea to walk around the forest in the dark? Seriously?" Stiles waved his hands in a manic manner and licked his lips nervously.

"I said to listen to me. We ended up getting separated while on the hunt for the other half, and Scott ends up getting bitten by something, neither of us know-" Fallon's eyes widened and she leaned forward.

"Bitten? Are you serious? That's why you don't walk around the damn woods at night, Jesus Christ."

"Again with the interrupting? Shut up and listen, please and thanks. So Scott fell behind because he had to take a few hits from his inhaler. I saw the squad cars and I ran up, but one of the police dogs smelled me and my dad made me go home. I said Scott was at home, so nobody knew he was even there. So yesterday he came up to me, and shows me this giant bloody wound on his side. It's covered in gauze and tape and whatever, but I could still see blood coming from it," He waved his hands again, demonstrating how serious the matter was. "He claims it was a wolf, he thinks he heard one howling, but there haven't been wolves in California in 60 years." Fallon nodded her head quickly and clasped her hands together. Stiles took a deep breath and continued with his story.

"So we're at practice, and here comes Scott catching all the balls that were thrown at him. Like, superhuman abilities." She cocked her eyebrow at this statement. "When's the last time Scott was really, really good at lacrosse? Yeah, that's right, never. He comes up to me and starts talking about hearing things, smelling things he shouldn't be able to. He could smell the Mint Mojito gum in my pocket."

"That's been in your pocket for like, 6 months."

"Yeah, yeah I know, leave me alone. We're going through the woods, looking for Scott's inhaler, and we showed up at Derek Hale's house." Fallon's eyes widened and she made an audible intake of air.

"Yes, Derek whose family burnt up in a house fire Derek. He throws Scott's inhaler at us and walks away. Now get this: Forensic evidence on the body shows that a wolf attacked it."

"That's impossible, though. Isn't it?"

"I thought so too. Now at lacrosse practice, Scott is bobbing and weaving and back flipping and actually making goals. He made first line! Can you believe that?"

"Now why exactly are you here?" This sounded like a Scott and Stiles problem to her, and she was confused as to why Stiles had so worriedly ran into her house. Stiles pulls out his iPhone from his pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through a few pages.

"Look at this." He shows her an article about Lycanthropy, another about wolfsbane, and old sketches of people with wolf heads.

"Werewolves? God, grow up. I thought you were serious about this whole thing. I'm hungry." Fallon pushes herself from off of the couch and begins walking away before Stiles desperately grabs her hand and silently begs her with a pleading expression across his face.

"Please, just listen to me, I'm serious. I think Scott might be in trouble. I think we all might be. He's on this way to this party with Allison. We need to go, now."


Fallon and Stiles pulled up to the large house in his powder blue jeep, Stiles unbuckling his seat belt before the car was even in park. There were teenagers stumbling in and out of the front door, holding red cups and slinging an arm over whoever they were with. Right as Stiles pulled on the car door lever to get out, he saw Scott running and jumping into his own car, starting it, and driving away. Without Allison.

The brunette girl soon came out of the party too, and got into the car with a man, she couldn't see his face or any distinguishing features, but she assumed he was male because of his size and demeanor. Stiles slammed the car door shut.

"Do you know who that was?" He looked at her with his brown eyes wide open, mouth slightly ajar.

"No clue," before she could finish her statement Stiles answered for her.

"That was Derek Hale! Derek, Hale!" He gripped the steering wheel and began yanking it forward.

"Drive to Allison's, now." Stiles stepped on the gas right after I got my last syllable out. The car jerked forward, nearly crashing into someone's Mercedes, before he backed up and sped down the street in the direction of the Argent's house. I checked my phone, the bright fluorescent light illuminating my surroundings.

(1) Missed Call from Mom

(4) Text Messages from Mom

She stuck her phone into her jacket pocket, trying to formulate an excuse as to why she was gone.

Mom, we were out hunting werewolves, normal stuff, geez, leave me alone, probably wouldn't cut it.

She looked over at her brown eyed, Adderall ridden, best friend. There was fear in his eyes. The mere thought that something bad would happen to Allison, even though he didn't like her all that much, terrified him. His best friend loved her, and knowing Stiles, he wants the best for everybody, especially those close to him. Especially Scott. They fought a lot, this was true, but she knew they needed each other. People had compared them to Batman and Robin, but they were nothing like that. Not even close. They were equals. They were Bonnie & Clyde, Cheech & Chong, they were the Blues Brothers. They weren't sidekicks to each other. They each benefited each other, were there for each other, whenever they needed them. She reached over and rested her hand on Stiles' shaking forearm.

"Everything's going to be okay, Stiles. Everything. It's all going to work out, you don't need to worry about this. We'll check on Allison, and then we'll check on Scott. And then you need to get home and sleep. You look like a zombie, man." She heard a whispery giggle escape past his trembling lips, but he quickly placed his mouth into a thin line. He pulled into Allison's driveway.

"I'll stay in the car, you go and make sure everything's alright." Fallon gave him an encouraging smile, urging him to go up to the entrance. She decided to stay in the car as to avoid any awkward conversations she'd inevitably have when visiting a stranger's house for the first time.

The car locks clicked as Stiles walked up to the house, and she chuckled to herself at his protectiveness. She reached back into the back seat, grabbing onto Stiles' lacrosse jacket he always kept in his car. Fallon slipped it over her, feeling the fuzzy interior of it. She wrapped it across her torso, and snuggled her nose and chin into it.

She was glad she had Stiles. She could always count on him, no matter what, and they'd do everything together. But her favorite days were when they did nothing at all, they'd stay at home, with popcorn and candy and an abundance of blankets, watching movies, and only leaving the couch for bathroom breaks. She'd only been in Beacon Hills for less than 8 months, but Stiles had been the best friend she'd ever had. Even the Sheriff was close to her heart. He trusted her in protecting his son, and she was honored to be given the duty. Plus, he was hilarious, and they'd often make jokes to each other while she'd wait in the Stilinski's living room for Stiles.


About five minutes passed before he came jogging up to the car, unlocking it, and sliding swiftly in the driver's seat.

"I'm going to drop you off at home, and then I'm checking on Scott. Allison was in there. Unharmed."

"So Derek really was doing a good deed huh?" Stiles nodded, she could tell he was relieved. "Maybe he isn't as bad as you guys make him out to be."

Stiles reared his head back and made a cluck noise in the back of his throat. He always made that noise instead of rolling his eyes.

As they pulled out of the driveway, the rain started to softly pitter patter on the car windows, blurring the streetlights into one big smear of bleached yellow. They'd only driven a couple miles before they saw someone walking, their arms crossed over their chest as a shield from the rain and cold temperature.

"Stiles! That's Scott!"

Stiles stepped on the gas and rolled down the window, shouting Scott's name.

"Scott! Yo Scott! Scott! Oh for God's sake, Scott!" Scott's head turned toward the Jeep, his black hair sticking down to his forehead from the moisture. Stiles pointed with his thumb to the backseat, indicating for Scott to go in there instead. I flipped on the heater.

"Hey buddy, I've been lookin' all over for ya!" Stiles gripped Scott's shoulder with his hand and shook him gently, smiling the big Stiles grin Fallon had grown to love. "Why the hell are you shirtless?"

"D-Derek… Derek is the one…" Scott's teeth chattered together, making it hard to understand clearly what he was saying. A shiver went through Scott, and he fidgeted because of the chill down his spine.

"Derek is the one who… bit… bit me." I jerked my head into Stiles' direction.

"Derek is also the one who took Allison home."


"I was worried sick about you and you can't even come up with a reasonable explanation?" Fallon's mom paced around the kitchen floor, dragging her fingertips along the countertop. She noticed her mother had put her wedding ring back on.

"I was at a party with Stiles. Nothing happened! We didn't drink or do drugs or anything. We didn't even step into the party. We were driving around most of the time." It wasn't a total lie.

Her mother leaned onto the counter, put her face into her hands, and rubbed her tired eyes. The hospital was working her extra shifts and she was achieving noticeable bags under her eyes. She knew that Stiles was a reliable kid, and that if anything had really happened, she'd get a call from the Sherriff.

"I'm going to bed. I advise you to do the same." Fallon's mother groggily walked up the steps and into her bedroom. She waited to her the door click shut before taking out her phone and texting Stiles.

Mom's good. Told her we were driving around all night. Scott okay?

I received a text a few moments later:

He's okay knowing Allison's okay. He'll need to talk to Derek soon

I responded with:

Definitely. Goodnight Stilinski

He replied back with:

Goodnight Fawwonnn


Stripping down to her underwear, Fallon crawled into the light gray duvet on her bed. She wrapped herself up in it, like a cocoon. Squeezing her eyelids so tight they were crinkly and sore, she hoped and wished and begged that in the morning she'd wake up to be a beautiful butterfly that wasn't afraid of anyone or anything. Especially werewolves.


AN: There ya go! Little bit of action is starting to happen! S/O to my girl Sylvia Plath

Song at the beginning is Let's Dance to Joy Division by The Wombats