University isn't as horrible as I originally anticipated. Working through my first slew of assessment is, however, just as unenjoyable as predicted. I've decided that updates will be every 2 to 4 weeks.

CHAPTER 4

Rori sat on the edge of Isaac's bed, stroking the damp blonde hair from his forehead.

Before she had been able to reply to Stiles, Isaac had passed out. She, Stiles and Lydia managed to lift him onto his bed, and then the latter two had moved into the corner and started whisper-yelling at each other. Rori didn't doubt it was about her.

Lydia rolled her eyes, grabbed Stiles by the arm, and dragged him over to stand across from Rori. "Can you please just explain what happened to him so we can get this sorted out?" Lydia said to her.

"I'm not really sure myself, actually." Rori explained calmly, moving her eyes to the pair standing before her. "We talked for a little while, I went to sleep, and when I woke up he was talking to someone that wasn't there. I'm pretty certain he was imagining his dad." Rori continued stroking his hair absentmindedly as she spoke. "Anyway, he wouldn't snap out of it, so I just stayed with him and made sure he didn't have, like, a fit or something. A little while later I heard your yelling through the wall and I went to see what was happening, and here we are."

"That's all well and good," Stiles quipped sarcastically, "But that doesn't help us figure out who the hell you are."

"Rori. Human." She smiled.

The boy wet his lips. "Stiles. Also human."

"Lydia. Human."

"Well, we, uh, we're not sure, we're still working that out."

Lydia rolled her eyes at Stiles.

"So there's us three," Rori counted aloud. "Then there's Isaac, and… who was the drowning one?"

"Boyd." Lydia chirped.

"Us and Isaac and Boyd." Rori confirmed. "Anyone else?"

Stiles regarded her warily. "A few, but you don't need to know that."

"I just spent the night helping one of your pack members," Rori argued. "The least you could do is give me a general number about how big your pack is."

Stiles waved his hand about animatedly. "But that just brings up the question: why are you trying to help Isaac?!"

She tilted her head, confused. "He's my friend."

"You've known him for like two seconds!"

She shook her head. "So what? I make friends fast, there's nothing wrong with that."

"Fine, whatever. You're friends." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, a hand on his hip. He gestured to how she was brushing his hair. "Could you at least stop touching him? The dude's unconscious for Christ's sake. It's just creepy."

Rori grimaced and drew her hand away. "Sorry." She stared down at the sleeping boy's face. There was a harsh burn mark covering the left side of his jaw, it was healing rapidly, but it still looked painful. "Did you really have to stick the flare in his face? Wouldn't literally anywhere else have been more convenient?"

"You try pinning a flare on a werewolf." Stiles snapped. "He wouldn't stop flinching around in the darkness. It's freaking difficult, okay?"

"Okay." Rori chuckled softly. "I won't judge your flare-sticking skills next time."

He huffed, pleased, before something caught his gaze and he frowned

"Hey, err, Rori, you're bleeding." Rori looked down at her arm, the searing pain she had been ignoring catching up to her. There was blood gushing down her forearm onto the orange bedsheets, pouring from three horizontal slashes in the flesh just below her elbow. The skin was torn open messily. It looked like something out of a slasher film.

"Oh, geez." Rori said slowly. "I totally forgot about that."

"Forgot about it? Forgot about it?" Stiles exclaimed, "What is that, scratch marks? Did he claw you? Those are really deep, let me see." He went to get a closer look but instantly paled. "Oh my God, that is a lot of blood. There's so much blood."

He looked a little sick as he turned his back on her and clasped his hands behind his head. Lydia sprung up, hit with an idea. "I have an emergency kit in my bag, wait right there."

Rori watched as she hurried out of the room in her unnecessarily high heels with a determined smile on her face. She clamped a palm over her open wounds and looked up at Stiles. "I like her; she seems pretty brilliant."

Stiles gazed out the empty, open doorway. "Yeah," he agreed dreamily, "She sure is."

"So," Rori started, laughing dryly, "Of all the ways I thought this night could have possibly gone, I must say this was certainly never one of them."

Stiles snorted. "Welcome to my life. I can't even count the number of times I've found myself in a situation like this."

"What, werewolves having hallucinations bad enough to make them suicidal?" She quirked a brow.

"No, no. This is definitely a new one for me." He sighed and sat on her bed. "I meant the overall unpredictable, constantly reoccurring, I'm-way-out-of-my-depth, life-threatening danger."

"I can relate to that. This one time when I was fourteen, a beta went rogue and tried to rip my head off to spite his alpha." She pulled the neckline of her shirt to the side to expose a long scar running from the nape of her neck to the tip of her shoulder. "The alpha threw him off me just in time, luckily."

Stiles looked at her curiously. "Someone tried to literally rip your head off, and you don't hate werewolves after that?"

Rori smiled. "Think of all the werewolves you know, and pick your favourite. Now, if another werewolf tried to murder you, would you hate your werewolf friend because they're like the one who tried to hurt you?"

Stiles looked appalled. "Of course not, he's my best friend!"

"I see people for who they are, not what they are. I'd lose half of my closest friends and family if I hated werewolves."

"You know, kid," Stiles said, "I'm actually starting to like you." She started to say something when he looked down and paled again. "Oh Jesus, you're still bleeding. Can you just, like, stop please?"

She laughed just as Lydia came hurrying into the room with a purple, sparkly bag in her hand. She tipped the contents out onto the covers where there wasn't a blood stain. And started picking things from the pile that she needed.

Rori snorted. "You keep your medical kit in a glamour bag?"

Lydia cocked her head with a preppy smile. "Of course. What's not to like about being prepared and fabulous."

"That's-" Rori paused. "Actually, I have no argument against that."

Lydia stood up. "Come on, we've gotta wash it out before I do anything." Stiles stood to follow them, but Lydia quickly held up a single finger at him. "Not you, Stiles. You have to stay and watch over Isaac, just in case."

The boy sighed in defeat and then sat back down on the bed. Lydia grabbed Rori by the arm and practically dragged her to the shower. "Take off your shirt." She ordered.

"You know, you're beautiful and all," Rori pulled off her shirt and threw to the shower floor, "But you should at least buy me dinner first."

Lydia rolled her eyes and reached over, turning the taps until she was satisfied with the temperature. "The water isn't very pressurised, so it's not going to open the wound any further, but it's still going to hurt." She made eye contact with her, "A lot."

Rori rolled both her shoulders and then nodded. Lydia guided her arm under the stream.

"Holy shit!" Rori cried and tried to wrench her arm away. Lydia held fast with a surprising amount of strength, not letting her move. Rori bent double and gripped the lip of the tub. The pain was worse than when Isaac had actually clawed her, like the droplets of water were needles stabbing right into her open wounds. "How long is this gonna take?" She hissed through clenched teeth.

The water stopped running and Lydia answered, "It's done." She pulled Rori's arm closer to her and inspected the cuts. Now that the blood wasn't in the way, they two girls could see clearly the three gashes on the inside of her arm, just under her elbow. They were deeper than either had originally thought. "Okay, these are going to need stitches, which I can't do." Lydia explained. "But I know someone who can. I'll just have to wrap it up until we find her; you can't lose any more blood than you already have."

Rori nodded and obediently followed her back into the main room. Lydia explained to Stiles that Rori would need stitches, and that they would have to find 'her', to which Stiles protested, but ultimately surrendered.

Lydia placed a considerably large gauze pad over Rori's cuts, which had already begun bleeding again, and then wrapped a bandage firmly over the top. "This will hold until we can get some stitches into you."

Rori regarded Lydia with admiration. "You sure know what you're doing."

Lydia smiled – warmly, for the first time – and clipped the bandage closed. "Thank you."

"This is a great bonding moment and all," Stiles said from his spot, his eyes covered and his neck flushed, "But could you, you know, put on a shirt please?"

"Embarrassed by a little skin, Stiles?" Rori teased as she walked past him and fished through her bag for a moment. She pulled on a green t-shirt. "You can look now."

"Thanks. And for the record, I wasn't embarrassed, I was," He fumbled to come up with something, "I was – I was respecting your decency!" He looked pleased at having thought of it.

"Sure thing, buddy." Rori said, obviously not believing him.

Lydia cleared her throat. "Rori's literally going to bleed out unless she gets stitches, so I'd appreciate if you guys took this a little more seriously. Now, we need to go find-"

The door burst open and in the doorway stood a tall brunette girl. Seeing her friends, she exhaled in relief. "Oh, thank God you're alright. Ethan and Boyd are both okay, but I can't find Scott anywhere." She froze when she noticed the stranger in the room, the wounded Isaac on the bed, and the worried expressions on Stiles and Lydia's faces. "Who are you?"

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