I'm not sure I'm entirely satisfied with this chapter, but you've waited long enough. Things will pick up speed from here! Enjoy!
"I thought you said you were going to use the finished bedroom." Fern's mother placed her hands on her hips, eying the ceiling rafters critically. "Those are a health code violation, I'm pretty sure." She leaned against the door frame. Fern groaned and curled up under her mattress.
Most sensible parents didn't try to make conversation with a sick child they'd just picked up early from school. Fern's was swimming in confusion, and generally speaking, she felt like crap.
"Can we not do this right now, mom?" She asked, voice muffled from the depths of her nest, praying her mother could take a hint. Her mother sighed. "Fine."
Her mother hesitated a moment. "We got a letter from dad, today."
"Which one; your ex-husband, or your imaginary husband?" Not that it mattered.
"Fern!" She snapped, crossing the room and pulling the blanket off of her daughter's face. "I don't care how sick you are, show a little respect!"
"Right, 'cause they've both been such great husbands," Fern snorted bitterly. "one divorced you, and the other is playing with guns in Afghanistan."
Her mother threw her hands up and stormed out of the room. "If you don't want to read the letter, you don't have to be a brat about it, Fern.." She called.
"It's not my fault you keep marrying assholes." Fern huffed, pulling the comforter back over her face, and rolling over to go to sleep.
"Uh, there's been a few break-ins around the neighborhood." Stiles deadbolted the front door of Scott's house, and turned Lydia and Jackson, standing behind him with raised eyebrows. He hesitated, before shoving a chair under the door. Allison raised an eyebrow. "And a murder!" He added. "Yeah, it was bad."
The scene changed, and suddenly she was viewing a crowded school hallway.
"McCall!" A kid she hadn't seen before in school snapped a picture of Scott.
Suspicion rolled off of him in waves as surveyed the image, ruined by lens flare.
The world spun and tilted, and then Scott was in the library, on his cell phone. "It's me. You need to get here, right now." Allison's voice demanded.
"What's going on?"
Back in the house, Allison stood in front of a window next to Stiles, a crossbow dangling from her hand. Across the street, the same guy from the parking lot stood, with Erica, Isaac, and Boyd. They practically emanated intensity and threat.
Allison pressed a hand to her mouth, and took out her phone. 'I think...I think I have to call my dad."
"What? But if he finds you here, you and Scott-"
"I know," Allison cut Stiles off. "What am I supposed to do? They're not here to scare us, okay? They're here to kill Lydia."
Lydia's boyfriend- Jackson, something supplied- stood behind Lydia in a dark bedroom, angry. "Where's my key, Lydia?"
She didn't answer.
"It was you, wasn't it? You edited the tape."
"What tape?" She choked, voice strained.
"The night of the full moon!" She looked at him, confused. "The recording? You came into my house, and you saw what was happening, so you took the tape and you edited out the most important part." His voice was tight, his jaw clenched.
"I don't know why," He continued. "Maybe because you wanted to take that from me. My moment. Like you take everything." He spat, then hesitated, shaking his head. "Or maybe you just thought you were protecting me." his voice gentled. "But it was you, wasn't it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Lydia wheezed. "But if you need is so badly," She removed one of her necklaces, and held out his hand, dumping a key and chain into his palm, her cheeks wet.
He looked taken aback by her tears.
"I hate you," She hissed. "I hate you so much."
"No," He shook his head. "No you don't."
"I should!" She held his eyes, though her voice shook. "I should hate you."
He reached up to brush her tears away, and leaned in to kiss her.
Her hand found the back of his neck, and the collar of his shirt slipped down, revealing the beginnings of reptilian scales, spreading across his back.
Downstairs, Stiles turned to Allison.
"I have an idea," She looked at him. "Shoot one of them."
"What? Are you serious?"
"They don't think we're going to fight. So if we do, I guarantee they'll take off." Stiles leaned against the wall, scrubbing a hand over his face.
Allison pulled the curtain back. "Which one?"
"Shoot Derek. Aim for the head."
"Scott was able to catch an arrow right out of the air. If he can, Derek definitely can."
"Okay, uh...shoot one of the other three, then."
"You mean two."
"No, I mean three!" Stiles joined her at the window, where Erica, Boyd, and the man from the parking lot stood, watching them. "Where the hell's Isaac?"
Suddenly, Isaac appeared behind them, disarming Allison and pushing her away, and knocking Stiles to the floor. He advanced, with elongated, sharp canines and glowing yellow eyes.
In the bedroom, the sound of glass shattering broke Lydia away from the kiss. "What was that?"
Jackson collapsed on the floor, gasping, a hand pressed to the back of his neck as she slid through the doorway, cautiously approaching the stairs.
"What's happening?" She murmured weakly, still crying faintly, hearing growls and snarls from the main level.
Allison rushed up the stairs, meeting her in the hallway. "Get back," she hissed. "Someone is trying to break in, okay?Go." She hesitated, taking a step back. "Lydia, go!" Allison exclaimed with more urgency, and Lydia turned, hurrying back to the bedroom.
She closed the door, leaning against it. Looking around the empty room, she adopted an expression of concern. "Jackson?"
Shutting herself in the closet, she grasped at her cell phone, shakily tapping at the screen. "Hi, yes, I need the police- " She screamed at a loud crash, retreating from the door.
Allison opened the bedroom door and locked it, pointing her crossbow at the open window.
"Stiles," she called. "It's here."
Something dripped from the window sill.
Erica kicked down the door, making an amused sound when Allison pointed the crossbow at her. "This might make me sound kind of like a bitch, but," she smiled. "I've always wondered what it'd be like to steal someone's boyfriend. I bet it's a pretty sick rush of power." She crossed her arms, looking at the door frame, as if she'd just had a brilliant idea. "I think I might try it with Scott! And you know what? I don't think it's gonna be that hard. Because why would he be waiting around, to steal ten minutes with you, when he can have me, anytime he wants."
Allison stayed calm, firing an arrow. Erica caught it, laughing. "You didn't really think that would work, did you?"
Allison lifted her weapon, a victorious glint in her eyes. "Actually, I did."
Erica opened her palm, her hand wet with something the arrow had been coated in.
She crumpled to the floor, and Allison leaned over her, brushing a blonde curl out of her face. "I thought you were psychic," She murmured in Erica's ear, standing. "Bitch." She added, almost inaudibly, as she left the room, leaving Erica on the floor.
Outside, the parking lot guy tracked the sounds of crashing and banging in the house. A light flickered off in one of the windows. He smirked as the door opened, something inside roaring, but it quickly turned into a look of frustration as Erica and Isaac were ejected from the home, landing in the yard.
He sighed, looking thoughtful as Scott, Allison, and Stiles stepped onto the porch. "I think I'm finally getting why you keep refusing me, Scott," He never broke eye contact with Scott. "You're not an omega. You're already an alpha- of your own pack." His expression turned into a smug smile. "But you know you can't beat me."
"I can hold you off until the cops get here." Scott glared. The man's smile disappeared, and he turned his head to the sirens in the distance, worried. His gaze then shifted to the roof of the house, and his face hardened.
The trio caught his look, and rushed off of the porch.
Their expressions turned to horror.
Fern sat up in bed, rubbing at her eyes. Thick, cold dread was lodged in her gut. She tapped her fingers impatiently on her leg, and shook her head.
"Just a dream," She murmured. "It was just a stupid dream." The light coming through her window was fading to a cool, muted shade. It was getting dark out.
"I'm heading to work!" Her mother called from upstairs.
"Okay," Fern called back.
Normal. This was normal. Normal was good, she could do normal.
Fern smoothed bedhead down after napping, and slid out of bed, heading upstairs. The garage door creaked and groaned and her mother's car pulled out of the driveway.
She padded into the kitchen, filling a glass of water and leaning against the counter.
"It was just a dream." She repeated to herself, fighting the anxiousness crawling restlessly inside of her. Her phone chirped, and she dug it out of her pocket.
From: Carson
Time Sent: 6:56 PM
Time Received: 6:56 PM
have the californians killed you yet
if so dibs on your laptop
Fern rolled her eyes at the message, and tapped out a reply.
if i die my laptop is going down with me
Not a moment later, her phone alerted her of his response-
i will pry it out of your cold, dead hands
Fern tucked her phone away, cringing as the image of Lydia in the closet, crying silently as she called the police, flashed through her head.
Cold, dead hands indeed.
"It was just a dream!" She shouted, frustrated with herself.
Still, the only other dream she'd head that was so vivid, so specific...was of chemistry that morning. The haunting dread of watching her dream unfold right in front of her resurfaced in her chest, full-force.
Fern groaned, throwing her head back and snagging the keys to the spare car off the hook. She trudged to the door, shoving her feet into her shoes, and climbing into the sad excuse for a vehicle.
This was absolutely ridiculous. If only for her piece of mind, she would drive by Scott's house just to prove to herself that it was just a dream. Everything was fine. There were no fangs or glowing eyes, and Lydia's boyfriend certainly did not have scales.
Pulling up to Scott's house, her jaw dropped.
"You've gotta be shitting me."
The Leather Jacket guy (well, maybe that wasn't such a good name for him, it really didn't narrow down who she was referring to- seriously, why did everyone where leather, it wasn't even cold here) was obviously the leader. His head turned in the direction of your car, and she stared right back at him, dumbfounded.
Against her better judgement, Fern stepped out of her car, edging towards the house. Leather Jacket Guy- no, no Parking Lot Creeper was a much better name. Parking Lot Creeper's eyes followed her as she inched towards Scott's yard.
"What are you doing here?" He rumbled, irritated.
"Uh...visiting Scott?" Fern ventured, glancing at the door. Would they let her inside? God, she hoped so. "Yeah, Scott and I are...uh, buddies. Gonna work on some chemistry- "
"You're lying." He cut her off, crossing the street.
"Yes, well." she swallowed hard. "It's none of your business anyway, is it?"
He cocked his head. "I think it is," he disagreed. "I think- " Fern's gaze traveled behind him, where there were three, count 'em three, figures- Isaac, Erica, and Boyd.
"It's been nice talking," Fern cut Parking Lot Creeper off mid-sentence, surprising herself. This guy was there to kill Lydia, as it had been made clear in her dream, which was now obviously coming true, just like chemistry, and oh god, she was panicking- but that wasn't the point. He was there with the intent to murder a teenage girl, and she was mouthing off to him. What was wrong with her?
"I have, stuff to do, though," Fern continued, despite her internal distress, and strode towards the front door with newfound urgency. "You know, places to be, potential murders to prevent- " She trailed off, finding herself on the porch.
He raised an eyebrow. Abruptly, she whirled around, pounding her fist on the front door.
"Stiles! Open the goddamn door!" Oh my god, he was going to kill her, he was crossing the yard, she was going to die-
Stiles' wide-eyed face appeared in the window, and he made a series of exasperated motions at her, finally ending with a bitch, really? look. There was a scraping noise- probably the chair being pulled away from under the doorknob- and the door swung open a crack. Fern was yanked in by her arm.
Fern just barely managed to stick her tongue out over her shoulder at Parking Lot Dude before she disappeared inside the house, and the door swung shut. Seriously, what was wrong with her, tonight?
Allison and Stiles gave her twin looks of disbelief.
"Fern," Allison started, and shook her head, trying to find the words to express her thoughts.
"What the hell are you doing here? How did you even know we were here?" Stiles demanded. Fern scrambled to come up with a believable explanation, but Allison beat her to the punch, whipping out her phone.
"I...I think I have to call my dad." She blinked back tears, glancing at Fern and pressing a hand to her mouth as she began sifting through her contacts.
"What? But if he finds you here, you and Scott- "
"I know." She choked. "What am I supposed to do? They're not here to scare us., okay? They're here to- ..." she shot a worried glance at Fern. "They're here to, you know..." She made a vague hand gesture, trailing off again.
"They're here to kill Lydia."
Fern swallowed. "To kill Lydia, right?" She choked out, closing her eyes. This had been such a bad idea. She should've stayed home. Instead of playing murder prevention, she could be netflixing Doctor Who, or texting Carson about the west coast horrors she'd endured.
Stiles' and Allison's heads both whipped around to stare at her, mouths open, and eyebrows up.
"How did you know that?" Allison prompted, almost too quietly to hear.
"I may have...overheard some things..." Fern's eyes flitted to the side nervously. It wasn't a lie, not really. It was just an...indirect truth. She had overheard some things. Quite a bit of things, actually. Just...not in the way they were thinking.
"Shit,"Stiles swore, looking at her, and glancing back at the window. "Shit," he repeated, but with more panic. "Allison, there's only three of them out there. Where's Isaac?" Fern closed her eyes in horror. She'd forgotten about that part. And it was a pretty important part.
Isaac's footsteps were not stealthy, as they approached. They were confident, fast. Efficient. He shoved Allison out of the way, then tackled Stiles, all before Fern could open her mouth. He didn't seem surprised by Fern's presence- of course not, she berated herself. He'd seen her go inside, for crying out loud. He just didn't see her as a threat, which...was kind of insulting, to be honest.
Despite her irrelevant indignation, Fern wasted no time tripping up the stairs, with Allison hot on her heels. Lydia was in the hall, inching towards them, shell-shocked. Something shattered downstairs. Fern leaned over the banister, just in time to witness Isaac bare his teeth at Stiles.
Her brain short-circuited.
It refused to process what was happening in front of her. Dreaming about the future was weird enough. Especially when it wasn't even her future, directly. But fangs and electric yellow eyes? Yeah, no. Fern didn't sign up for this.
Her coping mechanism had left the building.
"What the fuck is going on?!" She yelped, effectively halting the fight.
Isaac looked up at her, regaining his composure quite quickly. He mock-winced, and drew in a breath of air through his teeth. "Should've stayed home, huh?" He glanced down at Stiles. "Unless...you invited her? Seriously?" He laughed, amused.
"I have no idea why she's here, either." Stiles choked, taking advantage of Isaac's momentary distraction to kick his legs out from under him. Just then, Scott burst through the back door and into the hall where they were fighting, his face contorted into something far less human than Isaac.
"Stiles," Allison's voice called from the bedroom. "It's here."
Fern bolted back upstairs. It only took a minute for Allison to let her back in, giving her a tired look when she re-locked the door.
Jackson was gone. Allison was coating an arrow in something dripping from the sill, and her hand shot out to Fern's torso- a clear signal to stay back. "Don't let it touch your skin," she warned.
"Yeah," Fern breathed. "It's a paralytic." Allison gave her another shell-shocked look.
"How do you know what's going on?"
"I-...I don't, just...just bits and pieces. Things I overheard." Fern reiterated, praying Allison wouldn't examine the lie too closely.
"But you showed up here tonight," Allison said, hurriedly loading her crossbow, shooting worried looks at the deadbolted bedroom door. The universe was not feeling generous tonight, apparently.
"Had to run to the store," Fern muttered. This fast, think fast. "I saw a bunch of people outside the house, and put the pieces together."
"And you chose our side? Without even knowing what's going on?" Allison eyed her warily.
"Well, between Stiles and the creeper from the parking lot- "
The door flew open with a crack (hallelujah, a distraction), and Fern flew to the side, removing herself from the soon-to-be path of destruction. Erica tutted, smiling as she faced Allison.
"This may make me sound like kind of a bitch, but," She cocked her head. "I've always wondered what it'd be like to steal someone's boyfriend. I bet it's a pretty sick rush of power." She crossed her arms, and leaned against the doorframe. Fern was reminded of earlier that afternoon, when she'd spoken to her mother.
Erica continued to monologue, and Fern shifted, knowing Allison was about to fire her arrow. Just as she was raising her crossbow, Erica turned to her. Fern's eyebrows shot up. "Fern," she took a step forwards. " You're so quiet, I wonder how you ended up in this mess."
Allison cleared her throat, and Erica's attention was drawn back to her, just as Allison fired.
She laughed, waving it lightly at Allison when she caught the projectile.
"You didn't think that was actually going to work, did you?"
"Actually," Allison smirked. "I did."
Erica collapsed, and Fern took that moment to flee the room. She'd made it downstairs just in time to see Scott unforgivingly ram Isaac into the floor, where he stilled.
His eyes caught hers, and he tilted his head. "Fern?"
"I'm going to punch you if you ask me why I'm here," she choked, staring at Isaac's form. "Not that it'd do much good," she added, somewhat weakly.
"A little help here, Scott?" Allison called from the stairs, where she was dragging Erica.
They stepped out onto the porch. Fern hung back in the doorway as Parking Lot Creeper (who would now be referred to as PLC, for the sake of convenience) exchanged words with Scott. When Derek's expression turned to horror, after glancing at the rooftop, Fern knew what it was he saw.
"It's that blue reptile thing, isn't it?" she murmured, taking a step backwards into the house. PLC's attention whipped back to her, and she immediately regretted opening her mouth.
"The kanima," Stiles corrected, hot on Allison and Scott's heels as they sprinted into the yard, turning to the roof.
"It's Jackson, isn't it?" Fern felt like throwing up again. This whole day was just one big blur of wanting to throw up. Scott met her eyes, nodding gravely.
Fern did not attend school the next morning. Fern sat on the living room couch, and stared at the blank TV, trying not to relive the blue scales on Jackson, or the flash of fangs from Isaac. The complete personality change from Erica.
That, she thought, had stung the most. Erica had been nice in school- compassionate, even, despite her reputation. Despite the way everyone looked at her, like she was a dangerous animal- a beautiful, rare animal, but too dangerous to touch, or get too close to.
Fern was picking at the sleeve of her pullover hoodie, willing her phone to chime, for a friend from Michigan to text. For anything. Any distraction was welcome at this point. Fern just didn't want to think about this anymore.
The window in the kitchen slid open, and Fern's head shot up, frozen as she watched a familiar leather jacket and shock of black hair climb through and land gracefully on the linoleum, and this was not the distraction she'd had in mind-
"I think," he started. "That it's time you and I had a talk." He gave her a toothy smile, but there was nothing friendly about it.
Fern's heart rocketed, but she remained glued to the couch. It was like she had been born without fight-or-flight instincts- she just froze, like a rabbit. And she hated herself for it.
"You can calm down," he spoke again, holding his palms out to convey harmlessness (an endeavor at which he failed) as he crossed into the living room. She shrank under his predatory gaze. "I just have a few...questions."
Finally, Fern found her voice. "I don't know who you are, or what you want, but I will call the police if you don't get the hell out of my house- "
"You could call the police, yeah." he advanced towards her stopping just in front of the coffee table. Fern drew her legs to her chest protectively. "But then I'll just send my betas after you, and, despite what you may think? You can't avoid school forever."
The hell was a beta? Wait, wait. Betas were a kind of fish. Which didn't really make sense, but maybe that the term he used for his lackeys? There was really no other contextual explanation.
"You mean Isaac and Erica?" her voice shook, and his smile grew.
"Boyd, too." Not for the first time in her life, Fern felt trapped.
He sat down in the armchair across from her, leaning back comfortably. "Why don't you tell me what you know about your friends, Fern."
"My friends are none of your business." her voice wobbled. "How do you know my name?"
"You say that, but that little tick in your heartbeat?" she raised her eyebrows as he ignored her question. "That says otherwise."
"My heartbeat?"
"Let's try something easier," Fern felt a spark of irritation, being patronized by him. "Do you know who I am?" she shook her head. He raised an eyebrow. "Do you know what I am?"
"A controlling asshole who broke into my house to play twenty questions?" she clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She really needed to get herself under control. It was only her third day in this town (god, did time really move that slowly? She was never going to make it to graduation). She wanted to live long enough at least move back to Michigan.
He chuckled, and opened his mouth, but Fern cut him off. "I know you hang around in the high school parking lot. I know you broke into my house. I know you tried to kill Lydia Martin. I know that if I call the police, that will be more than enough to bring you in for questioning."
He clenched his jaw. "I think you should leave." she added, trying to drive home her message, but it came out weaker than she had hoped.
"I think," he stood up, approaching her. "That you have bits and pieces of information that don't make sense to you. I think you're not aware of the whole picture. I also think, that if you have any common sense, you should stay out of this."
Fern's visions will get shorter, I promise. After all, we've all seen the episodes, I don't need to rehash them for you. But, let me know what you think of the chapter, of Fern, etc. I'm open for constructive criticism, as well as suggestions, speculations, etc. Oh, also let me know right away if you think anyone is OOC at all. There hasn't been a lot of canon character interaction thus far (sorry, I promise more soon!) but I'd like to know, regardless, so I can nip it in the bud. Like I said, it's been a while since I've written. Anyway, leave a review, subscribe to updates- do whatever your heart so desires!