Chapter 3

"Finally," Melanie said, tiffed. "Three weeks? What the hell!?"

"Shut up," he ordered. His voice sent a small chill over her skin.

Melanie pursed her lips together, annoyed. This was the first actual conversation after three years and he started off with shut up? He'd called her once during the time span and that was when he told her to come here. He knew the basics of the situation. How she'd been on the run because of Seth. She didn't tell him everything. He'd ask for the full story when they saw each other again and he wouldn't like it. He'd probably kill her himself, but she hoped otherwise.

"Hello?" Derek asked, his brows furrowing, wondering if she had hung up.

"You told me to shut up."

She heard him sigh heavily at himself. A smile of laughter spread across her lips, and she shook her head. Same old Derek.

"Are you okay?"

He said it tenderly. She could feel the ice chips around her heart melting. She missed him so much.

"As good as can be expected. I keep thinking something is going to happen, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," he said low, sullen. "Don't leave town okay? If you get scared call me."

"I've been calling though. You haven't picked up."

"I was following a hunch. I'm sorry," he said.

"What hunch?"

"I'll tell you when I come back, promise. You'll tell me how the hell you got in this situation too. All of it, not just the bullet points."

"Fine," she sighed. So much for him forgetting about it after all of this was through, she thought, rolling her eyes.

"Don't start," he said sternly, hearing the pout ringing in her voice.

"You really promise to pick up?"

"I promise."

"Okay."

"Tell me about this bird thing," he said, sounding genuinely intrigued.

Knowing that she was smiling on the other side of the receiver, he smiled, staring out ahead at the road as it shimmered underneath the orange glow of the street lamp. It was raining.

She was like Laura in so many ways. And, in so many ways she wasn't. He listened as she told him every part of what she called 'Attack of the Birds'. She listed everything from confessing that Scott was heroic to Stiles's face being rather annoying. She really wanted to punch him. He couldn't disagree with her. He was annoying. He couldn't imagine how Scott managed to be friends with him.

"Oh and Derek?" she said near the end of their phone call.

"What?" he replied.

"There's something I need to tell you when you get here. Remind me okay?"

"Can't you tell me now?"

"No, not really."

"Fine, I'll remind you. Don't get yourself killed alright?"

"Alright, no death. Promise."

He hung up and got out of the car. This was the place. A warehouse outside of some small no-name town. Most of the windows had been broken, reminding him of his younger days when he'd go around to the old warehouses around Beacon Hills and throw rocks. He never missed. There was always that sound of shattering glass.

"So, she's not a werewolf. What is she then?" Stiles said.

He clicked away on his laptop as Scott relaxed on his bed and was scrawling across a notebook. Stiles looked back and watched as he wrote quickly and urgently across the lined paper. His eyebrows furrowed, focused on his task.

"What are you writing?" Stiles asked, leaning back in his chair to try and get a glimpse. He still wasn't close enough to see so he leaned back more awkwardly and obviously. Scott stopped. His head slowly rose and he stared at him blankly. These antics weren't out of the ordinary. Stiles was Stiles.

"Homework," Scott said simply.

"Oh, well you could be helpful…" Stiles trailed off.

"And do what? She was just as scared as the rest of us."

"Hey, where's Derek? Have you heard from him? Maybe he can tell us something or insult our existence some. He's good at that," Stiles said.

"I don't know where he is." Scott said not lifting his head from his work. "It's not like we keep in touch because we're werewolves. It doesn't work like that."

"Huh," Stiles turned in his seat as if his bubble had been bursted. Scott laughed silently, shaking his head as he checked over his work.

"How about we focus on just being her friend? She's just…" Scott lifted his head at a loss for words.

"-a Biiiitch," Stiles drawled out, his head laid back with a look of boredom on his face.

"I was going to go with high strung."

"Whatever, same thing."

Scott shook his head and went back to the problem he had written out.

"Hey," Sheriff Stilinski walked into the bedroom, his brow furrowed.

"What's up dad?" Stiles said, knowing the signs immediately. Something was wrong. Stilinski sighed next and hesitated before speaking. He did that every time before he told them anything. He was always faced with uncertainty when it came to talking to them about his work.

"There was a murder last night."

"What? What happened?" Stiles was on the edge of his seat, nearly falling to the floor.

"I don't know. I think he's in your grade. His head was bashed in and he seems to have had his throat slashed and was strangled."

"That's weird." Stiles turned to his computer and started typing.

"Why do you think I'm telling you two," Stilinski said.

"Because we're amazing crime solvers and should be secret agents when we grow up?" Stiles replied blandly.

"Right, that's it." Sarcasm ran clear through Stilinski's voice, matching the look on his face.

"We'll look into it."

"By the way, tell Heather I said Happy Birthday."

"Will do," Stiles said, focused on the articles coming up on his computer, all revolving around deaths from head bashing, strangulation and throat slashing. Watching his son go about this was disturbing and difficult. He wasn't supposed to be trying to solve mysterious deaths and occurrences. He was supposed to be doing what normal teenagers did, getting caught drinking and sneaking out at late hours.

"When are you going out?"

"Probably ten-ish," Stiles answered.

"Come back at a reasonable hour."

"Yeah, sure."

"I'm serious," Stilinski said sternly. "You may have a werewolf, but you both have tendencies to do stupid things. Don't be stupid."

Scott and Stiles looked at him abruptly with incredulous looks, shocked at his unreasonable statement. Both melted in defeat from his stern look. He wasn't entirely wrong. Sometimes they just landed in the wrong place at the very wrong time. That happened a lot.

"Okay," both boys droned simultaneously.

Sheriff Stilinski stood there a moment longer then turned and left the room. Scott set aside his notebook and Stiles turned in his chair.

"People are dying again…" Stiles trailed off. The fear that had shadowed his life for a while, having dwindled over the summer, returned at full force.

Scott said nothing. He stared at his friend with a mixture of worry and nervousness. After Jackson left, they were supposed to go back to normal.

"Don't," he said.

Stiles raised his hands up in surrender. He didn't have to say anything because they both thought it. This wasn't a normal murder, not that murders were normal to begin with. Silence sunk into the room like a heavy mist after rainfall. The rain had yet to fall.

"Why do I have to go?" Melanie called from the bathroom

"Because it's the normal high school thing to do."

Melanie groaned for the fourth time. She was perfectly content in not going to the party. Lydia would be happy with her not showing up, so both of them would win if Melanie didn't go. It was probably going to be boring. She preferred college parties if she was going to party. They had older guys and the entertainment was better.

She smirked at her reflection in the mirror, running the black eyeliner in across the top of her lashes in a thin line. Her last party was when she was fourteen, before she had to leave. It was for her own protection, they said. Laura had taken her out against Derek's wishes. She argued that it was her last weekend before leaving. The guy was a shaggy brunette with grey eyes and a lopsided, tipsy, smile. He had a tribal sleeve tattoo. Playing him was easy and it hadn't been the first time she'd done so. It was all pure fun and they both knew it which was the beauty of the whole hook-up.

Derek hated her going out and partying at all hours of the night. That was another reason why she was shipped away. Laura believed Melanie could take care of herself though. Both Laura and Derek saw to that with endless training in various areas. She may not be a werewolf, but she had the potential. She was the girl who was raised by wolves.

"C'mon! I need someone to help me snag Ethan before somebody else does."

"You don't need my help. I'd repel him if anything. I have attitude problem remember?"

She shook her head at hearing his laughter next. Capping the eyeliner, she blinked a few times in the mirror then left the bathroom satisfied. She swerved into her room and put her eyeliner on her dresser. There were multiple things that had been added to the bedroom, making it more hers. More pillows were on her bed besides the one single pillow with a comforter underneath to match them. They were a mixture of sunshine gold and dark green. Multiple products of the hair and make-up variety sat on top of her dresser. A full length, body mirror sat beside the closet door. She was looking into getting a desk.

Danny lounged on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently.

"Okay, let's go," Melanie said, clapping her hands with finality.

"You're wearing that?" Danny asked.

Melanie looked down at her attire. A Foo Fighters band-t with dark and faded jeans. There was a hole in the knee of her right denim pant leg. Her high tops were shredded on the sides, but still wearable.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she whined.

"Uh, nothing." Danny looked away, scratching his head.

Scoffing, Melanie walked out of the room. There was nothing wrong with dressing casual. This party wasn't some special occasion. He followed her downstairs. Grabbing her grey zip up hoodie from the arm of the couch, they left the house. Danny drove.

They entered the party from the side of the house when they arrived, passing three stoners who tried to get them to join their circle. Pop music blared out of every opening of the house. Melanie was glad it wasn't some shitty techno-dubstep mix. She could nod her head to this music. Scott and Stiles met the two as they got inside.

Stiles was yanked by the arm past the them by a bouncy, curly haired brunette. Melanie raised an eyebrow, her eyes following the couple. She wasn't going to question the nervous look on his face. It was all too clear that he was in for something interesting.

"That's Heather…" Danny said. It sounded like nothing more than a whisper over the music.

He stiffened beside Melanie, and smiled shyly. Looking in the same direction he did, she saw Ethan across the room.

"We can still go back. There are plenty of other cute guys around here," she said, leaning on his shoulder with one arm.

"Mel…" Danny said in a grave tone.

"Fine," she grumbled, giving him a good shove to the side with her arm that she perched on his shoulder. Moving his body mass wasn't too difficult, but catching him off guard was helpful.

He stumbled, colliding with another person. Melanie smirked. You asked for it, she thought, crossing her arms over her chest. In one fell sweep, she put her hair off to one shoulder then pushed her glasses up her nose.

Danny turned to apologize, but no words came out. His mouth hung open as he faced with Ethan. He glanced back at Melanie for a split second. She smiled wider and watched the two converse. She turned away after a few minutes and walked through the house. The place was pretty big. Scott leaned against a doorway near the back of the house with a red solo cup in hand. He stared into the cup cautiously before taking a sip. His face puckered instantly, making her laugh. Whatever was in his drink was strong.

"Hey," Melanie greeted, her hands stuffed in her pockets. She glanced around at the crowd. The main dance party took place in the back yard by the pool while the socializing was inside. Whatever was happening upstairs stayed upstairs. She didn't allow her head to travel that far.

"What happened to Stiles?" she asked.

"He, uh, got caught up with something," he replied, tilting his head to the side.

The awkward tone in his voice made her giggle. He smiled genuinely and ruffled his curly hair. 'Something' was the less awkward way of putting it.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I was here with Danny, but he's busy." Melanie pointed across the room where Danny was chatting with Ethan. The two were quite close in proximity, nearly touching. A dreamy look swam in her friend's eyes. Her smile faltered, thinking about the last time she'd looked at someone like that. Seth.

"Oh," Scott said. Melanie blinked rapidly and saw how he stared at the two, intense and troubled.

You know don't you, she thought to herself. He didn't take his eyes off of the two.

"That's what I said when he informed me of his interest. I think Ethan is trouble," she said, watching him closely.

Scott's head shot at her putting that intense glare on her. She took an uneasy step back. He looked at her like prey.

"He's a bad boy and all that. Those kind are never any good." Her voice remained steady. She pursed her lips together after the comment. She knew all about bad boys. She'd had her turn for a while until it grew to be too much.

"Yeah," he said, but not so much in agreement.

Melanie looked around and sighed. Girls giggled with their girlfriends. Guys hung on their guys. Couples snuck off upstairs. What the hell did these people have to talk about? What shoes went with what outfit? Melanie furrowed her eyebrows in disappointment. A party was meant to be crazy so that people could do stupid things they'd regret. It wasn't a place to talk. People partied to forget their dreadful week. These people were gathered together as if it was another school day. What a crock.

"No, I don't think so. Those shoes are disgusting. Maybe if she put a bag over her head they would look better."

"Speak of a devil," Melanie said sarcastically. There wasn't a doubt in her mind, Lydia Martin was the devil incarnate. She had to be. She was intelligent, had great style and was gorgeous. Melanie could admit to that. She felt no shame in admitting that, but she had a knack for being a real opinionated bitch. And, doesn't the devil wear Prada?

Lydia stopped mid-sentence, stopping as she and Allison were passing by Scott and Melanie. She looked down at Melanie's assemble. A sinister look fell over Melanie's facial features. Go ahead, say something, she thought, I'm penning for your thoughts. She had a few thoughts to share with the ginger too. Just one word, that's all she needed.

Lydia said nothing. As if looking right through her with no real emotion, she turned to Scott.

"Doing charity work tonight?" she asked him.

Scott opened his mouth to speak, but Melanie spoke first. Every word came out cold and spiteful.

"Charity? Oh you must be talking about how he's been able to tolerate you. How do you have a genius IQ again?"

Lydia stared, seething. Her jaw tightened. Scott took a long drink from his cup. Melanie bit her lower lip smiling and waited for a comeback. None came. Allison and Scott shared an uneasy look.

"How about we get a drink," Allison suggested, softly pushing Lydia along.

"See you later, ginger."

Lydia turned to come back, her foot stomping hard on the ground and he hair swinging lusciously off her shoulders. Allison stopped her. She waved to Scott and Melanie before they were out of sight.

Melanie snickered. Lydia was too easy to work up.

"Why do you do that to her?"

"She does it too, but if you must know, she's the epicenter of my entertainment. I get bored easily," she replied with a shrug, watching Danny and Ethan. She couldn't help the protective instinct she had for her friend.

"And Stiles?" Scott wondered. Those two had their fair share of bickering too.

"He's annoying," she stated plainly.

Scott chuckled. She wasn't the only one who found Stiles extremely annoying.

"Is this it?" Melanie asked, looking around. Maybe this was just the beginning and the party would pick up soon. Scott would know. He looked like he'd been to a few parties.

"What?"

"The party."

"Oh, yeah," he replied blankly.

She both tried and failed at hiding her disappointment. Scott smirked at the effort.

"It's not that it sucks," she said, her face pinching together.

"But it sucks?" he said.

"Exactly," she drawled out, tilting her head back dramatically.

Stiles came pushing his way through the crowd towards the them. Like a man on a mission, he spun around urgently, searching the room. Melanie shook her head at his disheveled form. He certainly got some action. Way to go him. There was hope for the idiot. He didn't pay attention to her joking scowls and continued to look around the room, searching.

Melanie followed his gaze trying to see what he saw. Whatever it was, she wasn't seeing it.

"Hey, have you guys seen Heather?"

"No…" Melanie said, looking at Scott who shook his head.

"I was supposed to meet her in the cellar and she's gone. There's glass from a broken window and I can't find her anywhere."

"I'm sure she's just drunk and probably went to streak or something," Melanie said, but the comment didn't set him at ease or even make him laugh. He turned around again and continued searching frantically.

"I wouldn't worry too much," Scott said.

"Something's wrong," Stiles said. The silly grin he had at the beginning of the night was gone and replaced with grim panic.

"Like what? Maybe somebody smashed the window and she went to find the culprit,"

"You don't know anything okay!? And if you do, you better be careful." Stiles snarled at her.

Melanie pursed her lips together tightly, shrinking back from the attack. She didn't do well with threats. She bit back her own threat. Her fist clenched tightly. Her nails pinched her palm. It wouldn't be hard to beat him down. He was scraggily…human.

"Just relax," she said low having lost the happy mood she was in.

Turning, she walked through the party, having lost sight of Danny. She didn't know why she bothered trying to be nice to the idjit. All of them were stupid. What was it that made Derek seek help from them. Stiles sighed,

"Mel—Mel, I'm sorry," but the words were lost through the bass of the music in the air.

After finding Danny and being sure he was alright, Melanie found the door to the cellar and walked down the stairs. The light of the party faded and she was covered in darkness except for the dim lighting of small overhead lamps. The light wasn't extremely helpful. With the exception of small circles of light on the ground with dim halos around them, the cellar was mostly dark and creepy.

"This chick is rich," she mumbled, noting the expensive wines on the rack.

She traveled up and down the racks, looking around. She found the shattered glass on the floor down the fourth row of wine just as Stiles described. Cautiously, she moved toward the window to get a closer look. Part of the frame to the window was hanging loose ready to fall. Heather didn't leave here willingly and she didn't break the window on some crazy whim. She was taken.

Reaching up, Melanie touched the edge of the sill. Whoever did it went right through with brute force. Brute force a werewolf had. The edges were razor sharp and there were a few droplets of blood.

"Not good," she mumbled.

She went back upstairs ready to leave. Danny was still in deep conversation with Ethan. Ethan leaned against the wall next him. I'm trusting you, dog, she thought aggressively. She curled her fists again. She really didn't want to leave Danny here. She was supposed to be the DD, but Ethan would be able to get him home since he couldn't get drunk. The inability of a werewolf getting drunk always made her laugh.

She turned and made her way for the front door. Getting past two obnoxious jocks and to the foyer, she was nearly knocked off balance from a drunkard coming down the stairs nearby. Half of his drink spilled onto her jeans. A steady hand caught her by her at her rib cage.

"Whoa, easy."

Melanie looked up to see Isaac smiling down at her. His hand didn't move from her side, making it seem as if he was holding her affectionately almost.

Melanie felt her mind go blank. She licked her lips then and shook her head realizing there was only static and no words in her thoughts as she stared up at him. She couldn't help it. Those eyes were mesmerizing. He smiled at her seemingly unbothered that she'd fallen into his arms. Her eyes fell to his dimples. Werewolf, he's a werewolf, she reminded herself.

"Sorry, nearly got stampeded," she said, finally able to develop a full sentence.

"That does happen," he said.

His hand still didn't move. The feeling of his touch spread like a spider web over her skin. She felt goosebumps rise underneath her clothes and prick painfully. The spider web his touch had created seeped through her skin with a chill. She couldn't explain why this was happening, not even in her head. It just was and she felt okay with him holding her. Okay was something she hadn't felt in a long while.

The fuzzy chill that had warped into her skin was quickly stripped away as Isaac broke the tension that had built a bubble around them and removed his steady hand from her.

"You're leaving?" he said sullenly.

"Uh, yeah. I have stuff I have to do at home," she lied.

"Stuff that's more important than having a good time with your friends?" he laughed, stretching out his arms a little to the ruckus.

"I've been to better parties," she commented.

"Oh really?" he said. Melanie caught the challenge in his voice.

"Oh yes," she replied rising up to it, wiggling her eyebrows. She was never one to back down from a challenge.

"Well, I guess you'll have to show me to one of these supposed better parties one day,"

"Possibly, if you play your cards right," she said.

As the words came tumbling out of her mouth like her usual banter with cute guys, she realized she was flirting with him. She bit the inside of her cheek, suppressing a regretful heavy sigh. She couldn't do that. She couldn't flirt with him. She couldn't flirt with anyone if she knew what was good for her. Plus, there was Allison. She liked Allison. Allison hadn't done anything wrong to her. This had to stop. She couldn't do it again.

Isaac cared deeply about Allison. Melanie saw it every day at school. They were great together.

"I gotta go," she said quickly, but he didn't stop or go away. He stayed at her side as she walked.

"Do you need a ride?" Melanie felt a stinging pain in her chest and rubbed it as she walked down the walkway. It faded little by little.

"No, I'll be fine."

"It's not a big deal," he pressed.

"I'm a big girl. I know how to take care of myself," she assured him.

He still didn't look convinced. Melanie couldn't let him drive her. It was bad enough that Stiles and Scott knew where she lived. He definitely didn't need to know. The less that knew, the better. She could feel a strong foreboding in the thought of him knowing. showing somebody your home was inviting them to get closer to you, to get to know more. It was more of a safety precaution if anything. She needed to feel safe and she couldn't feel that way if everybody knew where she resided. Danny coming by every other day put her on edge enough.

She turned, leaving him standing there on the edge of the party. Keep your eyes straight ahead, she thought to herself as she zipped up her hoodie. It didn't matter if she kept her eyes straight ahead though. She could feel his intense stare on her, watching her go. Her stomach twisted unpleasantly, confused as to what had just happened between them. His touch, his voice, it felt comforting, safe. Derek made her feel safe too, but it was never like that. It was magnetic, pulling her close to him and she liked it.

"Hey" she heard a few seconds later.

Melanie walked faster, hearing his footsteps not far behind. She pleaded with herself for him to go away.

"Hello?"

Feeling the grip on her wrist, she was spun to face Isaac. Her bangs flew over her eyes, putting a curtain between them. She stared straight ahead at his chest, eyes wide from the sudden jerk.

"Scott said I can drive you home as long as I bring his car back after," he said gleefully.

Melanie couldn't stop the grin from spreading on her face as she brushed her bangs back. She wanted to be upset because he didn't know how to give up, but he was so happy about it and it was weird. Who got happy about having to drive somebody home when they could be hanging out with their friends?

"It's not a problem for me to walk, really."

"You don't need to get harassed by idiots though," he said.

The look in his eyes darkened as if the thought would send him into a rage. His grip on her wrist tightened. She winced, tightening her jaw to bite back the squeak that would alert him to the painful pinching. She was a pro at

"Isaac—"

"Shut up already. You're too stubborn. You don't have to do everything on your own," he said and pulled her across the street.

Melanie groaned. Turned out that he was going to find out where she lived willingly or by force. Why was everybody so interested in her? Oh right, the new kid thing. That and Danny. He was a part of the in crowd Inwardly, she jumped for joy. They got into Scott's silver car. Melanie kept her hands clasped together in her lap, her thumbnail pressing into her palm hoping that the focus on the small pain would take away her thoughts of him. The entire ride was quiet. Melanie stared out the window pensively. Sleep sounded delightful. Having only been at the party for approximately thirty minutes had bored her to death.

"So, what's this 'stuff' you have to do and if you say homework I will hit you," Isaac said.

Melanie jumped at the sound of his voice. It wasn't booming, just unnerving in how calm and comfortable it was.

Violent much, she thought.

Melanie stayed quiet, still looking out the window.

"Well?"

"If I don't say anything, you can't hit me," she stated plainly.

"Are you kidding?"

"I got bored," she defended.

Isaac tapped his thumbs on the wheel. Coming to a four way, Melanie said,

"Turn left."

"Why homework though?"

"There's nothing better to do."

You keep talking about homework. I'm sick of homework, she thought, rolling her eyes. Talk about something else.

He didn't know what else to talk about. He couldn't talk to her about how she smelled sweet and that it was cute watching her push her glasses up her nose. Those were things you didn't say while having a girlfriend. You didn't even think them.

After telling him to turn a few more times, they stopped out front of her house. Conversation had dwindled to an uncomfortable silence. She was glad to be home. This would all be over now.

"Good night," she said quickly as she got out of the car.

She shut the door and walked hastily up the few steps to the porch before he could respond.

"Good night," he mumbled.

He waited until she was in the house before driving off.

The house was even more packed by the time Isaac returned. Out back, Allison stood beside Lydia. They were talking to Aiden. People had dived into the pool for a swim, among other activities that were going on in the shadowy.

"Hey," he murmured in Allison's ear, his lips brushing across her cartilage. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

She gave him her weight, leaning back into him, and laid her head back on his shoulder. Though he was there in the moment, his mind wasn't. It was on Melanie. Did she really need to do homework?

That question led to others he had revolving around her like why she had that tattoo behind her ear. It was a strange time to think about it, but he wanted to know. Stiles wasn't wrong about thinking there was something off about her, but she wasn't bad. She couldn't be. She didn't give off any bad intentions. She was independent and hated people with the exception of Danny. He could put up with her obnoxious, sarcastic, secretive life. Everybody had secrets. Secrets were allowed right?

"Are you okay?" Allison asked, breaking his thoughts. "You look like you're somewhere else."

"I'm fine," he replied. Craning his neck, he kissed her lips, quieting her.

She smiled against his lips. Turning in his arms, she deepened the kiss, caressing his cheek with her fingertips. Her palm was cold. The look she gave was the exact opposite of that. It lingered, longing to do more than just kiss him.

"Want to go?" she asked.

"We can stay."

"Come on," she grinned.

He let her lead the way, his shoulders slumped. Looking around, he noticed Scott and Stiles in intense conversation. They were talking about Heather. She was missing.

Scott met his gaze, his face falling. Isaac looked away, swallowing the lump in his throat. He knew how Scott felt. To others, he was fine, but not when he thought nobody saw. He wasn't okay with Allison seeing other people.

Scott took a drink from his cup and directed his attention back to Stiles who slumped against the wall. He was tempted to stop Allison to go see what was wrong. Stiles was actually falling apart. This wasn't his usual drama queen routine. That sounded much better than what Allison had in mind which was strange. Any guy would've been all over her. There would be no hesitation. He didn't want to do what she had planned, especially since she wasn't sober. His chest tightened, nearly reaching the threshold of pain, making his airways feel as if they were closing. He ignored it.

"Hey," he tugged her back lightly. The tug caused her to wobble. She stared up at him with doe eyes. "I'm going to see what's up with Scott. Something's wrong."

She glanced past him. A small frown creased on her face.

"Okay," she said.

She pouted, tucking a few random strands behind her ear.

"I'll catch a ride with Lydia," she said.

"You're sure?" he cupped her face, his thumbs moving softly over her glowing cheeks.

"Yeah," her casualness returned and she smiled. "Just come by later on tonight."

"Alright," he grinned.

Kissing the top of her head, he made his way through the party. The farther he got away from Allison, the more relief he felt in his chest, the tightness fading away.

Isaac woke up and rolled over. The sun filtered in through the window in light yellow rays. He could hear Mrs. McCall, Melissa, downstairs and smell the mouthwatering combination of bacon, eggs and syrup. Outside his room, footsteps pattered down the hall. Scott was up already.

Stretching, the muscles of his back contorted from stiffness. He got up and padded over to the dresser. He paused after opening the top drawer and picked up the wooden frame on the far right of the dresser. In the picture, Camden had his arm around his neck and was ruffling his hair with a fist. Mom and Dad stood behind them. Mom was trying to keep herself composed with a happy face while Dad looked annoyed. She was the only one who tried to make the picture a normal family photo though she tried not to laugh at them. After she died, Dad went off the rails.

He looked at this picture every morning. He didn't feel heartbroken, and he hoped that with each day he might feel different about losing them, but he didn't. He felt nothing. Today was different, but it made no sense.

He could barely breathe as he stared at the picture only picture he had of his family. Looking at it reminded him of what Stiles said. Melanie's parents were dead. Why didn't he feel angry, sorrowful or even resolved about his own parents, but he felt that over hers?

He put the frame down with a thump and looked at the ones beside it. One of him, Scott and Stiles at lunch. Lydia had taken it. She said it was documentation so that if they died the police could identify their bodies. Another was with Melissa and Scott. He and Scott sat on either side. It was taken before he started dating Allison.

"Boys! Breakfast!" Melissa called up the stairs.

Grabbing the navy blue t-shirt out the open drawer, he made his way downstairs, not caring that he was wearing jeans from yesterday. He ran his fingers through his hair real quick. Scott buzzed around the kitchen loading his plate with a mountain of food. He grabbed orange juice from the fridge. Melissa sat at the table with a cup of steaming coffee, looking at the newspaper.

She was looking at the article regarding Heather. A picture of the girl was beside the article. She smiled happily.

Isaac sat down across from Melissa and took a bite of his eggs.

"Any news about her?"

"No, sheriff Stilinski is going to get a search party together tonight. Would you boys go? You have ways of finding people," she said, quirking an eyebrow, her eyes on the paper still.

"Yeah," Scott said, sitting between the two, "we can go."

"I'll tell the sheriff," she said then took another sip of her coffee. "You boys need to get off to school, like now."

Isaac finished off the rest of his bacon, nodding, and got up.

"Is Melanie alright?" Scott asked as they got their shoes on by the front door.

"What do you mean?" Isaac asked.

"Stiles was really uptight about Heather last night. I think that's part of the reason of why she left the party last night," Scott replied.

"Hm, no. She seemed fine when I drove her home."

Scott nodded, grabbing his bookbag from the end of the couch. The two moved for the front door, saying goodbye to Melissa.

"Please just talk to me. I said I was sorry," Stiles groaned, hitting his forehead off of the metal of the locker beside Melanie's.

"If I talk will you shut up?" she snapped, turning to him, placing her hand on her hip, an angry expression emanating mostly from her eyes.

"Yes, maybe," he said, hopeful.

Melanie rolled her eyes and grabbed her books.

"Why does it matter anyway? You're all suspicious of me. You did stalk me to my house. I'm pretty sure you think I'm a killer," she stated, closing her locker.

Stiles slammed his head against the locker again. Shaking her head in dismay, she walked past him. If anybody asked, she didn't know him.

Looking back at him, she stopped. Her stomach dropped. He leaned against the lockers and stared down at the ground. His normal judgy eyes were replaced with soft, stress ridden ones. He ran his hands through his hair. He was obviously trying to stay strong about the Heather situation. It wasn't easy having no ability to do anything while others did.

"Hey,"

Melanie turned at the subtle voice. Isaac smiled down at her.

Don't smile at me, she thought harshly. She looked away, tightening her grasp on her books. She regretted the thought, but kept walking with the facade that he was nothing more than any other guy. He wasn't like any other guy though.

Isaac heard the slight acceleration of her heart and cocked his head to the side only in the slightest. She ignored the look and brushed past him. He stopped and turned, watching her speed off.

"What did you do?" Allison said, coming up beside him. She had seen it too. She looked at him confused, waiting for an answer. Everything was fine last night. They'd been joking around and chatting.

"I don't know…" he trailed off just as confused.

Lunch came around and no one had seen Melanie. She'd been speeding around the school as if on a mission, a mission that nobody was allowed to join in on.

"Has anyone else received Melanie's wrath today?" Isaac asked.

"No," Scott said. "She's been a little strange, more than usual I mean."

"You think it's related to Heather?" Allison asked.

"I don't know. It's like something has her spooked." Scott replied.

"She's not spooked," Stiles said, sitting down beside Scott. "She's in the library with Danny doing homework."

"That makes no sense," Isaac blurted.

"Why's that genius?" Stiles remarked, sneering at him.

"Because she went home early last night to do homework," Isaac shot back.

"She went home because I jumped down her throat," Stiles replied smugly. The smugness faded as he thought back on it. The urge to find her and apologize some more got him to hang his head.

"Actually, she got bored at the party, that's why she really left," Scott said slowly.

Everybody stared around at each other, the looks on their faces twisted and confused. Three different statements and she wasn't present to account for the any of them. Which was it?

"Check this out," Danny said, spinning his laptop so she could see it.

"How in the world…" Melanie breathed, staring at the screen in awe.

The police station mainframe was on the computer screen, showing recent reports. There were more than just the last three animal attacks. People all over town were having issues. Heather's disappearance was top priority and nobody had found her yet.

"How-" she started, staring at him in wonder.

"Don't ask," he cut her off.

Melanie raised her eyebrows questioningly at him. It seemed that she wasn't the only one with a few secrets. Smirking, she scrolled through the information. He could keep his secret, for now. If those werewolves couldn't hide than neither could she. Beneath the table, her knee bounced up and down. No hiding meant danger.

"What is going on in this town?" she murmured.

A woman was trampled by deer while out for a run. Two kids were trapped in a communal bathroom, having been surrounded by a swarm of bees. The strange one, but not so strange one was a delirious teenager having been surrounded by wolves.

Melanie sat back in her seat. Wolves.

"You don't think Heather's disappearance is connected to the animal attacks do you?" Danny asked.

"No," she replied blankly. "Why would it be?"

Yes, she thought. There was no way they weren't connected.

Stiles and Scott rushed down the hall, the bell ringing. Melanie was pulling her hoodie from her locker and they were not going to let her disappear again. She was like a freaking nijna. Danny handed over his car keys to her.

"Do not wreck my car," he told her sternly.

"What are you doing?" Stiles said urgently, glancing between them.

"You're right. Heather is missing. I'm going to go look for her," Melanie replied.

Stiles snatched the car keys from her fingers, causing the key ring to scrape along her index finger. The stinging sensation faded quickly and she tried grabbing for the keys, but Stiles kept them out of reach.

"Hey!" She glared at him.

"I'm coming with you," he said, handing the keys back to Danny.

"Oh," Melanie said, the 'o' shape of her mouth frozen.

"Let's go."

"Dude," Scott said, grabbing his arm, stopping him.

"We'll be fine. I can't just sit here while Heather is out there somewhere." Stiles said.

Melanie shut her locker, the clashing of metal on metal ending the conversation. Turning, he walked down the hall and out of the school with Melanie leaving Scott standing there alone. Please don't get caught, he thought, sighing helplessly. He couldn't control what his friends felt they had to do.

"Turn here," Melanie said, pointing up a leaf covered road. Stiles watched Melanie during the drive. She was small, but intimidating. Her leg bounced up and down, concentrating on where they were going.

"Here?" Stiles said, hitting the brake lightly. He looked up the road she motioned at. Derek's late home was up there.

"Yeah, we'll be further in the woods this way," she replied.

Stiles turned up the road, going slowly until they pulled up to the remains of the torched house. Melanie stared at the house long and hard, her jaw clenched tight. She couldn't stand the sight of the place. Looking away, she got out of the car and looked around the woodlands around them.

"Where do we start?" Stiles asked, coming around the car. He handed her a flashlight. "For when it gets dark."

She took it and pointed off towards the west. They walked into the thicket of trees, their footsteps crunching as leaves were crushed beneath their feet. This was going to be a long hike.

"Alright boys, I need you to sweep the woods and stay out of sight. Think you can do that?" the sheriff said, making eye contact with both boys.

"Yes," Isaac and Scott said simultaneously.

"What if we find her?" Isaac asked.

"You call me instantly," sheriff said. "Now go on. The search party is going to show up soon."

The boys looked at one another, Isaac more uneasy than Scott, and split off in separate directions into the woods.

"Do not leave a trace!" they heard the sheriff shout.

The search was starting on the campgrounds which also wasn't far from where cross country runs were done after school.

The sun slowly slid down closer and closer to the horizon and neither of them were catching a single scent of the teenage girl. The search was proving useless.

I wonder if Stiles is having better luck, Isaac thought. Who was he kidding? He didn't care much about Stiles, not really.

Melanie sighed. Her head throbbed almost matching the steady beat of her heart. Looking at Stiles, he still had that determined look though he was as exhausted as her. She was determined too, but the more they searched and found nothing, the less it seemed likely that Heather was alive. This is where The police thought she could be.

Melanie spun around in a slow circle then took out her phone. It was going on five-thirty. They'd been out here for the last four and a half hours and were miles from the car.

Looking up, she walked some more. The temperature had dropped and it had gotten chilly quickly. Stiles followed behind as he looked at his phone too.

"Scott and Isaac haven't found anything either," he said, putting his phone back in his pocket.

He looked up at Melanie who focused her eyes on her surroundings and nodded blindly. Her being out here was strange. There wasn't any real purpose for her to care about some girl. She cared about finding this girl because of him. Stiles kept those thoughts to himself. She'd deny them instantly if he brought it up. He knew she would.

"Stiles, I don't know…" she trailed off, shaking her head.

Stiles sighed.

More walking ensued with more silence. He watched his feet mostly.

"Stiles," Melanie said breathlessly grim.

She had stopped and stood like a statue, flashing her light straight ahead He looked up. Her arm extended some, pointing. The flashlight shook in her hand.

"Is-is that her?" she stuttered, her breaths shuttering.

Tied to the trunk of a tree twenty feet ahead of them there was a body hunched forward, long dark lengths of hair covering her face. Dried blood stains cascaded the length of her arms and legs. Melanie looked at Stiles. Stiles stopped breathing, turning pale.

"Stiles?"

Feel free to review. I'm penning for you thoughts ;)