Here's part 2 reformatted, hoping to have the rest up soon. Also, since I didn't explain in my original post, each story part is paired with a Christmas or holiday song that I felt matched the theme, and this is one of my faves by TSO.

Enjoy!

Fictional


TWO-Christmas Canon Rock

This was not how Malia pictured her and Scott's first Christmas together going.

But knowing the hellstorm of their lives when it came to the supernatural, she should have known something like this would happen.

"Stiles," she growled between gritted teeth, trying to hold back her frustration, "what the hell did you do?"

She felt a hint of satisfaction when he actually took a step back from her, looking slightly scared. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this, I swear!"

"Well, clearly you were wrong," she gestured angrily at Scott's unconscious form, as he lay motionless on one of the metal tables at the animal clinic.

"We miscalculated," Lydia sighed heavily from where she stood next to Stiles, frowning as she looked down at Scott. "This whole thing was a mistake."

"That's an understatement," Malia muttered under her breath, before turning back to Scott and running her hands tenderly through his hair. He had been out cold for a few hours now after everything had gone terribly, horribly wrong, and they didn't know how to wake him up. "I thought you guys had decided not to go through with it."

"We did, we did decide that," Stiles shook his head helplessly, "but I, uh, convinced Scott that tonight was our best chance to do it, so..."

Malia snapped her head up to look at him, eyes involuntarily flashing blue. "So you convinced Scott to go out into the woods, on Christmas Eve, and complete some ancient ritual to deactivate the Nemeton, after Deaton told you guys it was a bad idea?"

"I did tell them that," Deaton said matter-of-factly as he walked back into the room then, some sort of mixture now in his hand. "In fact, I told them that it was incredibly dangerous."

Malia growled again, her eyes narrowing at Stiles in anger, because it was easier to be angry at him than to admit that she was scared for Scott. "So this is your fault."

Stiles nodded slowly, shoulders slumping in defeat. "I know that, trust me. I accept 100% responsibility for what happened." He paused, looking at Scott with worry as he bit his lower lip. "I was just trying to help."

"It's not all your fault," Lydia interjected, giving his arm a comforting squeeze. "I was in on the plan, too, and so was Scott. He agreed to do it."

"So, you all just went behind my back tonight and tried to destroy the Nemeton?" Malia scoffed in disbelief. "Are you crazy?"

"It's our responsibility," Stiles replied roughly, clearing his throat. "Scott and I, and Allison, we gave power back to that damn tree, and it was our job to take it away again."

"Only, without Allison," Deaton said gently, because even a few years later her loss was still incredibly painful for them all, "it didn't work."

"No, it didn't," Stiles sighed, scrubbing a hand roughly down his face. "We thought it would be fine, that this would be a way to finally undo what we did, but nothing went the way we thought it would. Because of course, why would it? We don't have that kind of track record."

"I thought I could stand in for Allison," Lydia added hoarsely, her voice tight with disappointment and grief, "but I couldn't. We were wrong."

Malia gave her a sympathetic look, but it didn't lower her frustration at her friends for being so careless, for taking such a big, needless risk that had only ended up with Scott getting hurt.

But deep down, she understood why they had done it. They were all home for Christmas Break, Stiles back from Quantico and Lydia from MIT, and they had wanted to do this to help Scott. They thought that if they could take the power back from the Nemeton, then maybe the amount of supernatural disasters happening around Beacon Hills would lessen, and then Scott would finally be able to leave for the spring semester and make it to UC Davis after all. Ever since the showdown with Gerard and Monroe and the Anuk-Ite, things had been quiet, Monroe still on the run and laying low for the time being, and Stiles and Lydia had only wanted to make sure that Scott finally got a chance to make it to college.

Malia couldn't fault them there. After everything they'd been through, Scott deserved a chance at happiness, to get out of Beacon Hills. They all did.

Stiles looked up at Malia then, eyes shining with remorse. "Look, Malia, I'm sorry. Scott didn't want to worry you, and we thought we'd be done with this tonight before anyone knew."

"Well, you were wrong," Malia retorted, but then her face softened as she squeezed Scott's limp, clammy hand. "But it doesn't matter whose fault it was, or whatever." She looked up at Deaton then, eyes hopeful. "All that matters now is how to help Scott."

Deaton nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line as he filled a syringe with whatever concoction he had come up with. "Other than being unconscious, the rest of his vitals are good." He paused, pressing his fingers against Scott's neck and taking his pulse once again. "He seems to be stable."

"What is that?" Malia questioned, looking at the liquid-filled syringe with hesitation.

"I don't know if this will wake him up," Deaton told them carefully, "but I'm hoping it will help undo some effects from the ritual for the Nemeton."

"And if it doesn't?" Stiles asked, wringing his hands together nervously. "Then what?"

Deaton gave him an impassive look. "Let's just hope this does the trick."

Without another word, he found a vein on Scott's right arm, and slowly began pushing the solution into his bloodstream.

For a few long, agonizing moments, nothing happened, as they all stared down at Scott, hoping for a Christmas miracle, for something to actually go their way for once.

Suddenly, just when it seemed like nothing was going to happen, Scott's eyes fluttered slowly, and he groaned as he slowly came back to consciousness.

"Scott?" Malia asked hopefully, squeezing his hand tightly.

"Hey buddy, can you hear us?" Stiles stepped forward, gripping Scott's other shoulder.

Scott slowly opened his eyes and blinked groggily up at them, wincing when the bright light met his eyes. "...what...what happened?"

"Scott, you were at the Nemeton tonight, do you remember?" Deaton's calm voice cut in, drawing his attention back to him.

Scott swallowed thickly, eyes pinched tightly closed again as he struggled to get his bearings. "Uh, no, not really..."

"Yeah, man, we tried to complete the ritual," Stiles added hesitantly then. "But uh, it didn't go exactly as planned. Nothing did."

Scott's eyes suddenly flew open, panic now evident in his voice, his unsteady gaze landing on Stiles. "Wait, my mom, your dad, Argent...where are they?"

Everyone paused, just looking at each other in confusion before they answered him.

"Scott, what do you mean?" Lydia stepped closer, brows furrowed. "They're all at home."

"Wait, they're all okay?" Scott rasped, blinking heavily again, before putting a hand to his head, still in obvious pain. "We got to them in time?"

"Yeah, man, they're all fine, promise," Stiles reassured him, squeezing his shoulder again, and looking over at Deaton with a quizzical look. Deaton just shrugged, not having any answers as to why Scott would suddenly be worried about the three parents.

"Okay, okay, that's good," Scott sighed with relief as he tried to force his eyes open, still blinking sluggishly, his pupils blown wide.

"Scott, are you okay?" Malia asked him worriedly, noticing how he was clutching at his head.

Scott turned and blinked at her for a long moment, not saying anything immediately as he looked back at her. His expression was one of pure confusion as he answered. "Uh, yeah...I'm fine. Just a really bad headache."

"That's to be expected," Deaton added then. "After what happened with the ritual going wrong, I'm surprised it isn't worse."

"Am I the only one this happened to?" Scott asked, looking over at Stiles in concern. "What about you? Or Allison?"

There was a long, heavy silence in the room at his words.

"Okay, what's going on?" Scott frowned, slowly sitting up, Malia and Stiles immediately reaching out to support him. He brushed their hands away, determined to sit up on his own. He wavered but remained upright, sitting now on the table. "Where are they?"

"Where are who?" Stiles asked him carefully, looking at the others before meeting Scott's gaze again.

"Allison, and Isaac," Scott seemed more urgent now, needing someone to give him answers. "Are they okay?"

"Scott, what?" Stiles blinked back at him in confusion, before continuing with a gentler tone. "Come on man, you know that..."

"Wait," Deaton interjected softly, and they all turned to look at him. "Scott...what year is it?"

"Seriously?" Scott sounded worried now, rubbing his forehead again with a pained wince. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Scott," Lydia said then as she realized what was happening, giving him a serious look, "are we in high school right now?"

Scott looked back at her like she had lost her mind. "Well, yeah. It's junior year."

"Oh crap," Stiles muttered under his breath, as he also realized what had happened.

Malia felt a growing ball of dread in her stomach at their reactions.

"What? What's going on?" Scott asked more urgently then. "You guys are starting to freak me out here."

"He doesn't remember," Stiles breathed, looking over at the others in panic. "He doesn't remember."

"He's been taken back to the last time you guys attempted a spell with the Nemeton," Deaton realized then with a deep sigh. "That's his last memory."

"When you were sacrifices," Lydia added knowingly. "That's what he's remembering right now."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second. Are you saying he doesn't remember anything?" Malia asked incredulously, squeezing Scott's hand again, not missing how he stiffened slightly at her touch.

"No, I mean you know who we are, don't you Scotty?" Stiles asked, his voice more unsure than he'd meant it to be.

"Yeah, Stiles, of course," Scott nodded in answer, and they all let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Well, we'll worry about the missing memory part later," Malia sighed, feeling at least some semblance of relief. "At least you're awake again."

A few missing memories weren't the end of the world in the scheme of things, especially in their crazy and violent Iives. She cupped his cheek gently, turning his face back towards her.

Scott blinked at her for a long moment, staring at her face, and Malia suddenly had a sinking feeling that things weren't going to be that simple. He cocked an eyebrow at her, searching her face carefully for a long moment before he finally spoke again.

"...who are you?"


Scott didn't remember her.

He didn't know her.

Malia really was going to kill Stiles and Lydia for this.

But really, it wouldn't make her feel any better to be mad at them, or to blame them, because Scott had been a willing participant too, and they had just been trying to help.

That didn't make it any less painful.

Scott's memories of the last two years had been erased, taking him back to the night they had first sacrificied themselves to the Nemeton. Which meant, it had taken him back to Allison still being alive, and Isaac still being in town...and back to before he knew her.

Back to before he had changed her back from a coyote.

Deaton didn't know if the effects of the ritual were permanent, or not, and that was the worst part of all. They didn't know why it had erased his memories, or how to get them back.

Malia wanted to punch something. This wasn't something she could fight, or something she could fix, an unseen enemy that she didn't know how to conquer. And all she wanted now was Scott's comforting presence, his reassurance that everything was going to be alright.

But unfortunately, Scott didn't know her, didn't have any feelings towards her at the moment, had no connection at all to their past together.

It hurt more than Malia ever could've imagined.

In reality, he didn't remember Kira or Liam or the rest of the younger pack either, but that didn't lessen the blow any.

So they had taken him home, explaining to Melissa what had happened, as Scott's whole world as he knew it crumbled around him.

He'd had to relearn that Allison was dead, and he hadn't taken it well.

Then he'd had to learn that not only had he already graduated high school, but that Isaac was long gone with no plans to return, and that there were several people in his life, important people (Liam, Kira, Mason, Corey, and her) that he had no idea even existed, let alone that they were a part of his pack.

And when they'd reached his house and he'd suddenly realized that Argent and his mom were together now, it had almost been too much.

Scott was overwhelmed as he took in everything they were telling him, growing more and more quiet, fists clenched tightly at his sides. He needed some time to process everything, which was completely understandable. So much had happened over the past two years, it felt like a lot longer.

"I'm sorry, I just..." he stood in the living room facing them all, looking completely lost. "I just, need some time to myself. To wrap my head around all of this."

"Yeah man, of course," Stiles quickly reassured him, and the guilt was palpable in his voice. "We get it."

"Get some rest, sweetheart," Melissa added gently. "We'll be here if you want to talk," she gestured to herself and Argent.

Scott just stared at them, still unable to comprehend the fact that his mom and Argent were an item, before he finally found his voice again. "Yeah...thanks."

"Your memories could still come back, Scott," Lydia tried to reassure him gently. "Just give it some time."

"Yeah, and Deaton's still looking for something that could bring them back," Stiles added hopefully. "We'll figure this out, okay?"

Scott just nodded slowly, looking absently down at the floor and not saying anything for a long moment. When he finally spoke again, he was looking right at Malia, and even though there wasn't a hint of recognition in his eyes when he looked at her, she couldn't help the hopeful leap of her heart.

"I'm sorry," he said as he looked at her, sounding sincere, "that I don't, that I don't know..."

"No, no, it's okay," Malia waved him off quickly, trying to muster her best reassuring look and falling flat. "It's not your fault."

He kept looking at her for a long moment, as if he was trying to think of something else to say, when Melissa interrupted.

"Alright guys, I think that's enough excitement for one night," Melissa told them gently but firmly, steering them all for the door. "Scott needs to rest. Who knows, it may help him remember."

Malia sighed at her hopeful tone, wishing that it could just be that simple, but knowing from experience, nothing in their lives was ever that easy. Melissa squeezed her arm sympathetically, and they locked eyes in understanding as Malia headed for the door, her heart clenching painfully.

"It's Christmas Eve after all, we should all get going," Lydia added quietly, giving Stiles an encouraging nudge in the direction of the door, because it was obvious that he didn't want to leave when Scott was like this.

Malia was nearly in tears as she walked out the front door of the McCall's house, Stiles and Lydia right behind her. As much as all she wanted to do was stay with Scott, to comfort him at the very least, and try everything she could to make him remember, to remember her, she knew that it wasn't what he needed right now. He needed some time, and she was going to give it to him.

So much for their first Christmas together.

"Malia," Lydia said gently as she came up next to her by her car, "are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, sure, I'm fine," Malia replied with a sniff, trying and failing to hide how upset she was. "I'll be fine."

"You don't have to pretend," Lydia reached over and squeezed her hand in comfort. "Not with us."

"Malia, I'm so sorry, seriously," Stiles came up then, apologizing yet again. "I ruined Christmas. I ruined everything."

"Stiles, no, I don't blame you guys, well I mean I do, but I know why you did it, that you were doing it for Scott. It's just..." she trailed off with a shake of her head.

"Just what?" Lydia prodded gently.

"It's just," Malia looked at them seriously, worry evident on her face, "what if he never remembers? What if Scott never remembers me?"

"Hey, hey," Stiles squeezed her shoulder, "don't think like that, okay? Scott will remember, you are too important a part of his life to not remember."

Malia stared at Stiles for a moment before giving him a wry smile. It should have been weird, in a way, for her ex-boyfriend to be cheering on her new relationship, but it wasn't. Somehow, even with all of their complicated relationships, they were a family, a pack, and it was strangely comforting to hear from Stiles that he knew what an important part of Scott's life she had become, because he knew Scott better than anyone.

"I know Scott will remember you," Lydia added, confidence in her tone. "Even if he doesn't remember anything else from the past two years, he'll remember you. You are too intertwined in his life now, and even from before, for him to just forget about something like that."

She paused, giving a knowing smile to Stiles and Malia. "Besides, you don't just forget about something like what you guys have together. He'll remember."

Malia sighed heavily, leaning back against her car. "But that's just it. Right now, in his mind, he's still in love with Allison, and now he's grieving her, all over again."

Although Malia had barely known the other girl, she knew what an impact Allison had had on the pack, especially Scott and Lydia, and that even now they still mourned her loss.

Lydia paused, eyes shining with unshed tears but her voice strong when she finally spoke again. "Allison was his first love, yes, and that was incredibly special...but that doesn't just erase everything special that he has with you."

"Just magical trees and spells gone wrong," Stiles muttered under his breath, causing Lydia to give him a hard look, to which he abruptly closed his mouth.

"As I was saying," she continued, looking at Malia with determination on her face, "I don't know when, and I don't know how long it will take, but Scott will remember."

Malia nodded slowly, her voice hoarse when she replied.

"He has to."


Christmas Day was a blur. Malia tried not to focus on the fact that not only did Scott not remember her, but he was still asking for a little distance from the entire pack just to wrap his head around everything that'd happened the last two years, everything that he still didn't remember.

Deaton was still furiously looking for a way to reverse his memory loss, with Stiles and Lydia's help, but so far, they hadn't found anything useful.

So a few days after Christmas, she was completely surprised when her phone started ringing, only to see Scott's name lighting up the screen.

Forcing herself not to get her hopes up, she swallowed thickly, trying to sound nonchalant as she answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Uh hi...Malia?" Scott's voice sounded hesitant, questioning as he said her name.

"Yeah, hi Scott," she replied, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, wondering why he'd called, if he was finally ready to talk to her, the girlfriend he had no memory of ever meeting.

"I'm really sorry to bother you," Scott rambled on, sounding apologetic, because of course he was that way to everyone, even if she was a total stranger to him now.

"You're not bothering me," she cut him off more harshly than she'd intended too, her nerves getting the better of her. She sighed, continuing in a softer tone. "I mean, it's not a problem."

"Okay, good, that's good," he actually sounded relieved at her words.

"Wait, are you okay?" she questioned quickly, fearing he'd only called for a terrible reason. "Are your memories coming back? How are you handling everything?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," he answered, before quickly correcting, "well, I haven't exactly gotten my memories back, or anything, but..."

Malia had to swallow down her disappointment at that. "But what?"

"It'd be easier to explain in person," he replied with a heavy sigh. "Is there anyway that you could come over? I mean, if it's not too much trouble."

"Yeah, I'm on my way," she answered quickly, already heading to her car without a second thought.


The drive to Scott's house seemed painfully long. If he didn't remember her, she couldn't imagine what he would want to see her about, what he could even have to say to her. She wasn't even sure what to say to him, not wanting to upset him with more reminders of a life he didn't remember.

Part of her was dreading that maybe he was trying to let her down easy, to tell her how they just couldn't possibly work when he didn't even have any idea who she was to him.

"Hey, thanks for coming," Scott greeted her with a gentle smile as he opened the door, and it was so easy and familiar that it physically hurt Malia to see it.

Because those smiles used to be for her.

They walked up in awkward silence to his room, before finally sitting on the edge of the bed, notable space in between them.

He didn't say anything for several moments, uncomfortably fidgeting with his hands, as if he was trying to figure out the right words to say.

"Okay," Malia huffed, looking at him with raised eyebrows, "I'm not a subtle person, so I'm just going to come out and ask...why am I here, Scott? What did you want to tell me?"

Scott stared at her for a moment before breaking into an amused smile. "Yeah, right, sorry. I'll just get to it then."

He stood up from the bed, facing her then. "I'm really sorry, Malia, but I still don't remember you, or that we were...together."

She knew she must not have hidden the hurt on her face well enough because his expression quickly changed to one of concern. "Look, I wish I did, I mean I really hate that I don't, trust me."

"No, I told you before, it's not your fault," Malia forced a fake smile, not wanting him to feel worse than he already did about the situation. "You guys made a dumb mistake, but you were just trying to do the right thing."

Scott nodded slowly, jaw tensing. "Yeah, I know. But from the sounds of it, this whole plan wasn't even worth it."

Malia sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe, maybe not. But you'd never have known if you didn't try."

She paused, giving him a knowing look. "And you aren't someone who gives up, no matter what it is, or how stupid or dangerous the plan might be, if it means you can protect everyone else, and protect Beacon Hills."

He gave her a small smile at that. "I just don't want anyone else to get hurt. And I'm guessing that's why I must have agreed to try to destroy the Nemeton."

"Well, yeah," Malia huffed, but she had a small grin on her face now, "protecting everyone else no matter what is sort of your motto."

His smile got wider. "I guess you really do know me then, huh?"

She nodded slowly as her smile fell. "Yeah, Scott. I do."

His expression became more serious as he walked back over and sat down on the bed again, closer to her this time. "I wish I could remember us, Malia. I want to."

She bit her lower lip, not trusting her voice for a moment at the pained look he was giving her. "I know, and you will. We're not giving up."

She paused to give him a wry smile. "That's something you taught me."

"Oh yeah?" Scott said softly, leaning even closer towards her. "What else did I teach you?"

She knew Stiles had already filled him in on the basics of their history, so she went right to the most important thing that came to her mind. "You taught me how to be kind, but not weak, and how to fight, but not be a monster."

Malia hesitated, reaching over to tentatively lay a hand on his arm before she added, "You taught me what it really means to be human."

Scott gave her a soft smile, putting his other hand gently on top of hers on his arm and squeezing. "Well, maybe that explains the dreams I've been having."

Malia furrowed her brows at him. "What dreams?"

"That's why I called you over here, actually," he confessed with a shrug. "I've been having these dreams the last couple of nights since the Nemeton, only now I'm not sure that they were actually dreams."

She looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I think maybe," he continued, looking at her earnestly now, "that they really were memories, trying to resurface or something."

"How do you know?" Malia shot him a questioning look.

"Because," he squeezed her hand again, "they've all been about you."

Malia's heart nearly skipped a beat at his words. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah," Scott nodded, giving her another small smile. "Seriously."

"Oh, wow," Malia swallowed thickly, trying to slow her racing heartbeat, because it was impossible not to feel excited at the prospect that maybe Scott was subconsciously starting to remember her. "So, what were the dreams about?"

Scott looked at her earnestly as he continued, unconsciously moving closer to her so that their legs were almost touching, still holding her hand. "It's a little fuzzy, but I had a dream about us in the tunnels? And I think I was hurt, pretty badly, and you took my pain or something."

He paused, raising an eyebrow at her. "Did that really happen?"

Malia's heart was nearly in her throat now, and she nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah that definitely happened. That's a memory, Scott."

His eyes widened slightly at her confirmation of this. "Wow, okay, if that really happened, then thank you, you know, for helping me."

Malia forced a laugh at that. "You don't have to thank me for that. Besides, I was terrible at it at first. I couldn't take your pain until you passed out from it."

He gave her a crooked grin at that. "Well I'm really glad you figured it out."

"Me too," she smiled a little more now, feeling a little lighter than she had in days since Scott had first lost his memory. "Is that the only dream you've had?"

"No," he shook his head. "I had a few other ones, but I've been trying to piece them together."

"Okay, well then tell me what you dreamed about, and I'll tell you if they really happened or not," she encouraged him, trying to push down her building hope, because she wasn't sure if she could take the disappointment if the rest of the dreams were only that: dreams.

Scott continued on, describing to her some fractured events from the armory when they had been trying to find a way out and nearly dying, as well as grabbing bags from his room when they were pretending to go on the run from Monroe and her army, and being trapped in the police station during the stand-off with the hunters.

Malia couldn't help the hope building in her chest. They may have been resurrecting themselves as dreams, but the memories were definitely there, trying to rise back to the surface of his mind through whatever the Nemeton ritual had done to him.

"So that's it?" she prodded him gently as he finished, "that's all the dreams you've had?"

He looked away for a moment, suddenly looking uncomfortable before he spoke again. "Ah, no. There was one more..."

"Okay, what was it?" she urged him on, wondering why he was suddenly hesitating now.

Scott actually looked a little embarrassed when he glanced back over at her. "Um, okay. It was a really good dream, actually. Or memory. Yeah, it must have been a really good memory."

"So, what was it?" Malia sighed in exasperation. "Just tell me."

"Uh, okay," Scott flashed her a sheepish grin, "well, it was us...together...in the shower."

Malia couldn't help the wide smile that crossed her face at that. She nudged his leg playfully with hers before she replied.

"Oh yeah, that one's definitely a memory."


"Okay, Scott, are you sure you want to go through with this?" Deaton asked him seriously.

Scott nodded, stepping into the middle of the back room in the clinic. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"I know you're aware, but I have to caution you one more time, that this might not work," Deaton looked at him carefully. "It may even make things worse."

"It doesn't matter," Scott shook his head. "I have to try. If this is the only way to really get my memories back, then we have to do this."

He turned and looked over at Malia, giving her a small smile. She gave him a short nod in return, letting him know that she fully supported his decision to try whatever it took to get his memories back, to get her back.

"Scott, you sure?" Stiles asked from the other side of the room, where he and Lydia stood side by side, watching him with concern.

"Yeah," Scott nodded at him. "Don't worry, this is going to work."

"Not to be a downer, but that's what you said last time we tried a ritual with the Nemeton," Stiles raised his eyebrows at him, before suddenly grunting as Lydia nudged him in the ribs.

"It will work, Scott," she added, trying to sound reassuring, "we have to believe it will."

"It has to," Malia added, reaching over to squeeze Scott's hand one last time in reassurance. "It will."

He gave her a grateful look as he squeezed her hand back, before turning to Deaton. "Okay, let's do this."

Deaton nodded, gesturing towards the metal table. "Go ahead and lie down."

Scott nodded, jumping up on the cool metal and laying down, eyes closed. Malia still held onto his hand, squeezing tightly, hoping to anchor him during the whole process.

It was almost New Year's Eve, and even though Scott still didn't fully have his memories back, he kept having sporadic dreams, little missing parts of his life coming back to him...but it just wasn't enough. He needed them all.

Regardless of his limited memories of Malia, though, they had grown closer over the past week, and it was obvious to Scott now why they had worked so well together.

They fit together, perfectly opposite and yet perfectly complimentary in every way.

"Okay, this may feel incredibly cold, like the whole inside of your body is freezing," Deaton warned as he held up the syringe. "I doubt that it will feel very pleasant, but it shouldn't last long. Just try to lie still."

Scott nodded, eyes still closed, jaw tensing slightly. "Okay. I'm ready."

Deaton took a deep breath, before putting the needle to Scott's arm and pushing in the plunger.

Nothing happened for a moment, and then Scott started screaming in pain, writhing on the table.

"Hold him!" Deaton bellowed, as Stiles and Lydia rushed forwards to hold him on one side, he and Malia on the other.

"What the hell is happening to him?" Stiles yelled out in panic as they tried to hold Scott's thrashing body on the table.

"His body is fighting off the effects," Deaton answered through gritted teeth, "and it's making it even more painful."

"How long is this going to last?" Malia asked urgently, trying to restrain Scott without hurting him, but she was the only other one with supernatural strength, and they wouldn't be able to hold Scott for long. "He can't take much more of this!"

"Neither can we!" Lydia cried struggling to hold one of his legs. "He's too strong!"

Before anyone could say another word, Scott's eyes suddenly opened, flashing bright alpha red, fangs elongated and claws emerging, effectively throwing all four of him off of him at once.

Malia crashed the the floor in a heap, Deaton beside her, as Stiles and Lydia collapsed together on the other side. They couldn't even react in time as Scott rolled off of the table, collapsing to his knees and clutching his head in both hands, still yelling out in agony.

"What do we do?" Stiles asked frantically as they all scrambled to their feet, gathering a safe distance around the writhing werewolf on the floor. "How do we stop this?"

And no sooner had he said those words when everything suddenly stopped.

Scott collapsed to all fours, barely holding himself up on his hands and knees, panting heavily with his head bowed down towards the floor. His claws were notably retracting, sweat dripping off of his body.

They all fell quiet, looking at each other for a moment, before Malia cautiously took a few steps forwards, slowly getting down on her knees and crouching down in front of him on the floor. "...Scott?"

He didn't reply, still breathing heavily, and she could hear his racing heartbeat. With a worried frown, she reached over and gently cupped his chin, tilting his head up to look at her.

Gone was the red, replaced with the soft brown that she loved. "...Malia?"

She smiled sadly. "Yeah, it's me. Are you okay?"

Scott didn't answer for a moment, looking around the room at everyone gathered around him, before slowly nodding. He slowly turned back towards her, a million emotions crossing his face.

She didn't even have time to react as he reached one unsteady hand over to cup the back of her neck before pulling her in for a long, deep kiss.

Malia froze at the shock, before sighing deeply into the kiss and returning it, soft lips pressed against his. After a moment, he pulled back, touching their foreheads together.

"Scott...?" she trailed off, not wanting to get her hopes up, sure that her heart couldn't take it, waiting with baited breath for his reply.

"Malia," his voice was hoarse, eyes shining, "I remember. I remember everything."

It was the best belated Christmas present that Malia had ever gotten.


Yeah, I'm a sucker for the memory loss trope...so of course I had to work it into this story. Hope it was easier to read as separate chapters! Thoughts?