Cat and Mouse Chapter 6: Melissa, a teen wolf fanfic

Teen Wolf is back and so am I!

Thank you again to all the reviewers - seriously you guys rock!

The more I know people like the story the more likely I am to write more, so please, tell me what you think!

Thank you for being patient and Happy New Year!

It was an awkward ride home. After several hours at the clinic, everyone departed with vague knowledge of a plan and their duties in said plan. The Argents would do their research on Cat-Walkers, find out everything they could. The Hales would prepare and plan for battle, with this knowledge. Lydia decided her strength would best be used helping Derek. Scott's group (not quite pack but ...) of Isaac, Ethan, and Aiden would set up a perimeter as well as request aide from Deucalion. The Stilinskis would be in charge of keeping Five out of trouble for now.

They drove. They didn't seem to want to look at each other for fear of catching the other's eye. It was raining so all they had to listen to on the radio was static. In the back, Five winced as they went over a bump in the road.

"Sorry." said the Sheriff into the rearview mirror. Five waved her hand dismissively.

"I know you are being careful, and so I thank you." she muttered, drowsy from the painkillers.

"Maybe you should try going slower, dad." said Stiles, not looking away from the road.

"I'm going 20 miles per hour Stiles, any slower and we might not get home until morning." said Sheriff Stilinski testily.

"I know I'm just saying-"

"Stiles, please." he sighed, looking over at his son. "I'm going slow, avoiding pot holes, bumps, dark streets and deserted streets. It's fine."

The silence stretched on. And on. And on. Stiles went to play with the radio, but his dad smacked his hand away.

"How're you doing back there?" the Sheriff said, glancing over his shoulder.

"As good as can be expected." Five smiled kindly.

"Well, we're almost there," the Sheriff reassured. He paused, "Have you had anything to eat today?"

"I fear I would not fare well with a meal, Sheriff," she patted her tummy soothingly "but thank you for asking."

"I would feel better if you had something in your stomach." he insisted, as he pulled into his driveway. "We got crackers, tea, maybe a little soup … um . . . milk?" he suggested shrugging, looking back at her, a little worried he had offended her.

There was a beat. Five bit her lip, and started to giggle, she covered her mouth to stifle it, but it grew until it was uncontrollable. The Sheriff smiled one of his rare smiles and Stiles found himself smiling too. When she caught her breath, she muttered a few 'ow's to herself. "Tea," she beamed "would be lovely."

They helped her out of the car.

It took several minutes to get to the door. What little energy Five had was spent in the confrontation with her sister. It took another five minutes just to get into the kitchen.

"I would offer you my bed," sighed the Sheriff, "but it's upstairs. And I don't think we're quite ready to tackle that yet." He smiled kindly at her. She looked concerned.

"Please," she said tiredly "I do not wish to cause you any trouble-"

"No trouble at all," said the Sheriff hurriedly, "how does the couch sound? I doesn't pull out but it's still pretty big."

"Thank you for your kindness," she whispered as they entered the living room. They lowered her onto the cushions, careful not to upset her stitches.

"I'll get you some blankets." said Sheriff Stilinski, and he left. Stiles stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do.

"I'll put the water on, for some tea." he said, putting his hands into his pockets and heading toward the kitchen.

"Stiles!" she rasped. He stopped in the doorway and she flushed crimson. "Thank you, truly. For everything." She looked down at her hands.

"No problem" he nodded, his voice a pitch higher than average.

In the kitchen, Stiles stood watching the kettle waiting for the water to heat. He smiled to himself for no particular reason, picking out a mug with extra care. The Sheriff returned with a big soft duvet and several pillows Stiles didn't even knew they owned. He heard their voices drift through the house.

"So you're a cat?" asked the Sheriff bluntly. Stiles mentally smacked himself in the forehead.

"Only sometimes." Five said back kindly. Stiles stared at the kettle, focusing all his attention on their conversation.

"How does that work?" his dad asked with all the subtly of a hammer.

"Well," she said softly "sometimes all I have to do is decide to change. Sometimes its a little harder, sometimes its a little easier. Sometimes I can not help but to be a cat. And sometimes" she paused, "sometimes it is just better to be a cat."

She sounded sad, Stiles wondered what she meant by that. Would it be weird to ask her?

The kettle whistled so high and so loud that he nearly jumped out of his skin. He poured water into the mug and then paused. Grabbing the tea box, he went to the living room.

"Hey" he murmured kindly. Five smiled at him. The sheriff looked between them, hiding amusement. Stiles shook the box at her.

"It's a sample pack, any particular kind you like?"

"Oh," she looked surprised, "Um, Earl Grey, perhaps?"

"Can do." and he left to prepare it. He felt like he needed to catch his breath. Was he allergic to cats? That didn't seem to be it, he shook the feeling off.

"So, Five, how did you come by Beacon Hills?" said the Sheriff, if only to break the silence. However, silence is what he met. After a long moment, Five giggled.

"Well, I walked mostly." Stiles stifled a grin, his dad chuckled.

"No I meant, what business do you have here?" Stiles felt the warmth leave the room, the sheriff must have felt it too because he tried to flesh out his meaning further. "I assume it's business. Supernatural business. Did you just drop by?"

"I suppose I came in a mixture of both. The spontaneous business of comradeship, as it were." Five said simply. More silence. It stretched on and no one knew how to fill it. "Although," Five said, suddenly cheerful, "it seems I took the scenic route, as it took me a whole six days to get here!" she laughed. The Sheriff laughed with her.

"Where did you start?" he asked.

"Vancouver."

"Canada?!" the Sheriff laughed heartily.

"I think next time I will consider traveling by train." she joked.

Stiles brought in the tea, smiling as well. He could see it, Five had completely won his dad over.

"Careful it's hot." he said, handing her the mug.

"I thank you very much, Stiles" she grinned, cradling the hot beverage in her hands.

"Well, I have to go back to the office." said the sheriff, clasping his hands together. He stood, "Mrs. McCall said she'd stop by after work to look at your stitches, and that Vet said he might as well." he patted Five fatherly on the shoulder, "I think you're in good hands."

"I agree, Sheriff." she smiled. He looked thoughtfully at her before heading to the front door.

"I'll be home around 8ish, phone me if you need anything." he called, putting on his jacket.

"Will do, drive safe Dad." Stiles replied.

"I will." They listened to the door close and the Police cruiser disappear down the street. Now what?

"How are you feeling?" he asked just as she said "How much does your father know?"

Five smiled and brought her mug to her lips, "Better, thank you. And yourself? I imagine I gave you quite a scare." She sipped the tea and observed him over the rim. Stiles shrugged.

"I'm fine. My dad knows enough, and what he doesn't he learns on the go."

"He's a very kind man." Five said thoughtfully, almost her herself. "As are you." she beamed at him, and suddenly the room felt very warm. He played with the hem of his shirt nervously and was momentarily confused because his shirt had grown a couple sizes. Oh wait, it was Jackson's. He suddenly felt exhausted, remembering just how long of a day it was.

"You know what?" he announced, "Not to be a rude host or anything but I'm really in need of a shower and some new clothes."

"Please, do not hesitate on my account." Five beseeched.

"Okay then. Here is the remote for the TV," he said, handing it to her, "Give a call if you need anything. I'll be back in like 10 minutes."

"Excellent."

Stiles stood awkwardly in the door frame for a moment before dashing up the stairs to his room. He grabbed some clothes out of his closet and bolted clumsily into the bathroom. After he got into the shower he had to remind himself that there was an injured girl downstairs. It was embarrassing but he really took a long time in the shower. Scott used to tease him, saying he took as much time as a teenage girl. He couldn't help it, he just got lost in the warmth of the water. It soothed the knots in his back and unmatted his hair. Pulling himself together, he scrubbed and washed thoroughly before turning the heavenly water off. He patted himself down with a towel, put on fresh clothes and started down the stairs, drying his hair as he went.

He heard laugher from the living room. He paused halfway down the steps, Five and Mrs. McCall were talking. Since when did Mrs. McCall have a key?

"Honestly he must have thought me a fool, I gave him the blankest of stares!" Five giggled warmly "I thought to myself, what is a Tee-Vee, and then he hands me this little button box! What on earth was I to do with this, I thought." Mrs. McCall laughed even harder. "So I put it down, and low-and-behold, a miniature, virtual theater springs to life across the room! What magic, I thought! The marvel of the theater in the convenience of a home! And look! I can control the amount of sound that comes out!"

Stiles heard the TV's volume go up and down. He grinned, covering his mouth.

"Did you know you can change channels too?" asked Mrs. McCall.

"Change channels?" Five pondered aloud, unsure of what the words meant.

"Here, watch." Stiles heard a faint click, and then the opening of another show. Five gasped, gleefully.

"How utterly fascinating!" Stiles heard more clicking as Five experimented with her new toy.

"Ok, ok. Let me see these bandages." said Mrs. McCall, fighting giggles herself. Stiles froze, willing his ears to pick up every sound. Mrs. McCall whistled.

"You heal almost as fast as my son." Mrs. McCall continued to undress her wounds, clean them and reseal them. Stiles waited for someone to say something.

"So, how'd this happen?" Mrs. McCall asked after a while.

"It was a combination of slowness on my part and misplaced love on my sister's. My Pride does not approve of the lifestyle I've chosen." Five said quietly.

"You sister did this to you?" Mrs. McCall muttered angrily. "Before I shot her up with mistletoe?"

"My sister loves me dearly," Five said softly, "and the kind of deep pain she must be feeling cannot be held inside, for it is too great to bear. I do not blame her."

"Is the lifestyle you've chosen the right one for you?"

"Yes." she breathed

"Then screw 'em." she barked, Stiles heard her sit on the couch next to Five, "I got pregnant at 17. I came home with the news and my parents told me in no uncertain terms I was not allowed back until I got rid of my baby. That wasn't going to happen. My boyfriend and I got married, I went to night school to become a nurse, he became a cop and we worked it out. Because thats what you do when life hands you lemons."

"What do you do when life hands you lemons?" Five asked confusedly. Mrs. McCall laughed.

"You throw it right back in life's face and demand chocolate!" They chuckled together.

"Alright, it looks like you're good to go, kid!" Mrs. McCall chimed, "Well not good to go, no, I wouldn't suggest moving much for like, a week, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'll come back tomorrow morning to change your bandages, and maybe if you're up to it, a bath." she sighed, "Oh, lets see, what else? Oh! I brought you a cane and crutches so you can get to and from the bathroom and stuff with out asking for help from the boys."

"I very much appreciate it, thank you again Lady Healer."

"Please, call me Melissa."

"Very well... Miss... Melissa." Mrs. McCall chuckled to herself as she gathered up her things.

"Do you want me to reheat that tea for you?" she asked.

"Oh no, thank you anyway, it is just the right temperature."

"Okay, Stiles has my number, but just incase I left in on that card there. Call me if you need anything."

"I shall – Oh! Miss Melissa, is your son alright? Did I indeed scratch him?" Five asked, suddenly worried.

"He's fine, Dr. Deaton cleaned it with stuff." Mrs McCall shrugged.

"Please pass along my sincerest apologies, let him know it was not intentional."

"Honestly, I think he's more embarrassed that you scratched him than anything else but I'll give him the message anyway. I'll just let myself-AHH!"

"AHH!"

"STILES!" Mrs McCall shrieked. She had just caught sight of him. He had unconsciously been inching his way down the stairs the entire time until the tip of his nose was centimeters away from the door. Mrs. McCall clutched her heart staring accusingly at him.

"Sorry." he supplied, still a little startled.

"I trust you heard all that." she huffed, exasperated.

"I'll call if we need anything." he gave her the thumbs up. She rolled her eyes and headed for the door.

"I'll be back tomorrow morning." she reaffirmed over her shoulder "Bye."

"Farewell." Five called to her. Mrs McCall drove away just as it stopped raining. Five sniffed the air, pleased. "I always loved the smell after rain." she sighed, smiling at him. She already looked healthier, no where near well but there was faint color in her cheeks and some light in her eyes. Stiles grinned toothily.

"You know," he began, "if you don't know what something is or what a word means, all you have to do is ask." Five blushed ferociously.

"How long have you been out there?" she gasped.

"I came in halfway through your TV story." he shrugged. She looked relieved, but still a little embarrassed.

"I have spent my whole life out of the modern world, I forget about the delightful mechanisms that the human race has invented." she paused, thinking. "When I spent my time with Hales, they had embraced the modern world. Though they did not have such a thing as this Tee Vee." she smirked. "They would take me to the cinema. Derek was partial to what he called classic monster movies. The irony. Dracula, Frankenstein, the the Mummy. To think, visual storytelling, with actors and music, all in a little black box." She yawned.

"Tired?" Stiles asked. Five nodded.

"Miss Melissa gave me something to help me sleep." she slurred, rubbing her eyes.

"Well, I'll just take that," Stiles said, taking her tea mug, "and set it here." and he placed it on the coffee table. "And I'll turn off the lights and let you sleep." Five's eyes shot open, her nostrils flared.

"You'll be here when I wake up right?" she asked, suddenly panicked. He rushed to her side and sat next to her on the floor.

"I'll be just a shout away." he smiled reassuringly at her. "How about I stay here until you fall asleep?" She nodded, softly, closing her eyes. Like a small child. Her hand reached out as if asking to hold his, but she seemed to think better of it. Stiles slowly put her hand in his and they interlocked their fingers loosely.

Time passed and she dozed off, and before he knew it, so did Stiles. He drifted in and out of sleep. He heard his father come home but he was too tired to open his eyes. The Sheriff sighed and Stiles felt a blanket being laid upon him. He wanted to thank him but all he could manage was a grunt of contentedness.

"Hey Stiles," the Sheriff whispered.

Stiles 'Hmm'ed

"I'm pulling an all nighter at the office."

'Mhmm'

"I'll call in the morning to check up on you. Go to school, okay?"

'Mkay'

"Okay, go back to sleep"

'Mkay. Nrive safe Mad'

"Sweet Dreams, bud"

He fell back into a deep and comfortable sleep, which is saying something as he was currently on the hard floor using the balled up towel from earlier as a pillow. He dreamed about a bright white room with freshly mowed grass for a floor and it was raining everywhere except for the spot he was standing in. He walked through the grass until he felt the need to turn back. He glanced behind his shoulder and saw a door. The door was ancient and wooden, with a big brass handle and a knocker in the shape of an ivy leaf. It was powerful and imposing and he examined it curiously. After a mental debate, he rapped the knocker twice. It opened lightening fast and banged loudly against a non existent wall. Stiles backed away quickly. It was just a doorway. The grass continued, and the rain, and the light. But there was something, something not right.

"Come in." said a thousand whispering voices.

"come in. come in. come in."

Stiles wheeled around, looking for the source of the voices. They came from no where. But started to sing:

The more that there is,

The less that you see.

Squint all you wish

it's fine by me.

"Stop it." barked Stiles, "Thats enough."

Cannot be seen, cannot be felt,

cannot be heard, or even smelt.

He covered his ears and slowly sank to the ground. "Stop! Stop it!"

I lie behind the stars and dwell beneath the hills.

And in the end my friend, you see

I'm. All. You. Kill.

Stiles awoke to the sound of screams. He leapt to his feet, adrenaline pumping through his veins, looking fervently about for any sign of threat. But it was Five. Five was screaming in her sleep, trashing about, clawing at her chest. She screamed and screamed, Stiles grabbed her wrists in an attempt to prevent any further attacks on herself.

"NO! PLEASE!" She shrieked.

"Five! FIVE! Wake up, it's okay! Five, you're okay, you're dreaming!" Her eyes flew open. She whipped around taking in her surroundings, breathing heavily. Her whole body was shaking, she was pale as a sheet and she looked absolutely terrified.

"S-St-Stiles?" she breathed, scanning him as if to make sure he was real.

"I'm here, right here, see? It was just a dream." he reassured her. He felt like he should hug her or something, but wasn't sure what to do. So he settled with holding her hand between both of his. She looked at their hands for a moment and then brought them up to her cheek where she leaned into them, cautiously blocking her face from view. She sighed shakily in relief.

"I am sorry I woke you." she rasped, shaking her head.

"No, thats okay. Are you alright?" he asked. He got the feeling she wasn't looking at him on purpose. Thats when he felt it, a single tear fall onto his knuckle. He immediately and instinctively moved close to her. He couldn't not. He had to ease her pain. He sat with her on the couch, wrapped the arm that wasn't held by her around her shoulders and rested his chin on the crown of her head. She was unaccustomed to the touch but slowly leaned into him and let silent tears fall from her eyes. He pinched his eyes closed. He felt as if there was a balloon filled with wet and heavy clay inside his chest. It was a dull hollow pain that made it hard to swallow or breath.

"What was your dream about?" he asked softly. She shook her head, unable to talk about it. They stayed like that for a long time. After a while, they leaned slowly into the couch, both too sleepy to move.

"Stiles?" she whispered

"Mhmm?" he said.

"You know what I am right? Dr. Deaton has confided you?" she asked tensely, bracing herself.

"Mhmm. Little hard to miss there, Five."

"No, I mean, other facts... for example, my Alpha... and the … habits of my people." She was frozen in place, terrified of the answer. How does he reply to that? Nonchalantly? 'Yeah, what evs'. Sappy? 'I'll accept you no matter what'.

"Mhmm" he said quietly. They sat in silence. She seemed to take the fact that he wasn't running and screaming to heart and relaxed a bit. Almost asleep, a question popped into his head. "Hey, Five? What are full Cat Walkers like?"

She didn't answer for a long time, Stiles had almost thought she had fallen back asleep. At some point they had both laid down on the couch, her head resting against Stiles' chest. At the brink of dreams, she spoke. Her voice seem old, and it soothed and chilled him simultaneously.

"Do you ever wonder why horror movie monsters are so scary, Stiles?" she whispered softly, "They all look the same if you really truly see them. Ghosts, Ghouls, Vampires, Shape-shifters, Creatures and Zombies. They will look human. They are almost human. But they are not. We are not." she hissed icily. Her hand gripped his weakly, as if fighting more tears. "What is it that frights you all so? The pale cold skin, the long hard face? The dark, sunken eyes hollowed under a thick brow? The sharpened teeth, the claws? The strength, the speed? The elegance and charm? Yes, all of these things. But above all, above all is that final glint from inside. A predatorial prowess that cannot be seen." Her voice got quieter, on the verge of sleep.

"The human mind, Stiles, is a fascinating thing. The fear of heights should you fall, the fear of bites should you bleed, the fear of closed spaces should your breath be stolen from your body. The fear of the dark should the night come and the dawn should not. All stemming from a time when your kind were still dragging knuckles on the ground, burning your home and precious resources for light. So I ask you ... What made you fear the dark? What happened to the creature so terrifying, so dark and so cruel that hundreds of thousands of years later, you're still afraid? And what did that creature do, so long ago, that was so awful that a fraction of that fear lived on deep down in the pit of the developing brain for this long? What ever happened to the being that went bump in the night?"

As her first deep breath of sleep came and went, Stiles remembered the song from his own dream. And he remembered the voices and how much they sounded like when Five made a prophecy.

With a sudden realization, he knew it was a riddle.