Hey there! Here is a new chapter. I'm just taking a few moments to say thank you to those who've taken the time to read this.

Chapter 28

Melanie landed on her back with an 'oomph', and wheezed in a breath. The sudden surprise attack caught her off guard. She didn't even hear anyone come in the house. She'd been in the kitchen, getting water. Then suddenly, the glass flung out of her hand, crashing to the linoleum and splashing water everywhere as she was thrown to the floor.

"Danny!" she shrieked, as he stared down at her upside down. He grinned triumphantly, his hands on his hips.

Boisterous laughter filled the kitchen. Melanie rolled her eyes. She grunted, standing up. Isaac stood off to the side observing the spectacle, chuckling.

If you want to play, we'll play, she thought, her eyebrow pointing up. She spun and elbowed him in the solar plexus. He let out a loud grunt, bending over, gasping for air. He grabbed for her quickly and managed to wrap his arm around her neck, cutting off her air supply. Isaac tensed and took a step as the two continued to struggle.

With one hand grasping Danny's forearm, trying to pull it off of her neck. Her nails dug into his flesh, piercing it easily like it were styrofoam. He bit back a hiss. Melanie hit him again in the side and followed it up with an elbow to the neck. She meant hit to his jaw but came up short and hit caught him in the neck. He coughed, loosening his grip. Spinning around, she kneed hard. He fell to the ground. She pressed her knee into his esophagus, turning his head to the side. His face turned various shade of red, each one darker than the last; chili pepper red cherry to beet.

"Whoa, Melanie, you made your point," Isaac said, grabbing her upper arm.

She shoved him off, keeping her knee on Danny's throat. Danny's eyes rolled backwards and his futile attempt to get free went limp. She moved off of him, but stayed perched on the pads of her feet. A smirk crept across her face as she picked up his arm then let it drop.

Isaac stared mortified. She rolled her eyes and stood.

"He's fine; just passed out. He wanted to rough house. I just showed him who's boss," she told him, punching him playfully in the arm. "It is MY house."

Melanie could feel the annoyance bubbling up in her chest. For the last month or so, he'd given this hot and cold routine. He'd be here and act like everything was fine, but then he'd give her this look, like something primal in him was scratching to the surface. Then he'd go off with Allison or train for days. When he returned he'd either act like nothing happened and joke around like his old self or not acknowledge her at all. Anyway, it was tiring.

"OUR house," Isaac corrected her. He crossed his arms over his puffed out chest. His intimidation tactic needed work. All it was doing was pissing her off.

"Oh no, my house. You're just staying the night from time to time," she said, picking up the shards of the broken glass. "See, you have to actually be around to actually live here."

"Are we seriously going to argue about this?" he asked incredulously.

"There's no argument. Either you live here or you don't. Figure it the fuck out. I'm sick of your moodiness. It's annoying," she snapped. Her face remained softly aggravated so as not show him how angry she truly was. Keeping herself under control was keep. She let out a long, steady breath. If she didn't stay under control she'd sprain her hand across his face trying to punch him.

Isaac glared at her, but there was something else in those eyes. It left her unsettled. He was not getting to her this time. She shook her head at him, pursiing her lips together in a thin line. He'd been laying into her more than usual, and Allison wasn't any help with her jealousy ridden glares. Was it shit on Melanie month or something? She tossed the broken pieces in the trash, hissing in the process. Isaac smelled the blood instantly. The anger deeply engraved in his face vanished, and he was beside her looking at her hand.

"I'm fine," she exclaimed harshly, yanking her hand away then shoving him aside.

The cut was just a scrape near the top of her palm. Turning the faucet on, she ran her hand underneath, grimacing. The warm water stung at first then was soothing after a few seconds.

"Let me help," he offered, hurt by her offended feelings.

"You do enough," she snapped, not letting down her guard. "Just get out."

"Melanie—"

"Enough. I don't know what the hell is up, but you do and apparently, it's my fault. Do you think I haven't seen this hostile change in you? Do you think I don't notice how Derek and Deaton get shifty when I walk into a room? I'm not an idiot. Something's wrong. Even Allison is noticing it. You're all acting like serious assholes. Just go!"

Isaac let out a heavy sigh, looking from the oozing cut on her hand to her crestfallen face. She refused to meet his eyes, seething in her own ugly thoughts.

It's not you.

Isaac looked down at Danny. His fingers twitched. He was starting to come around. Isaac stepped past him carefully and left. The front door slammed causing her to jump. The conversation had escalated so quickly. Her hands shook. Wrapping a dish towel around her hand, she kneeled down beside Danny. She put a hand on his shoulder and shook him. He mumbled a few incoherent words, his eyes fluttering some.

"C'mon, wake up," she said softly, trying not to cry.

He blinked a few times then stared at the ceiling.

"You did well," Melanie told him, taking his hand and helping him stand.

"Yeah, so well that you knocked me out and my throat burns from it," he groaned. "I don't know how you do it. You're so small."

"I'm good at hiding things," she chuckled. The light smile faded as quickly as it came.

"Where'd Isaac go?"

"He left all pissed off because I knocked you out cold. He thought it was too harsh. I just said that I didn't like surprises."

She shrugged. Danny's eyebrows scrunched together. He didn't believe her, but he didn't press for answers.

"Did you have to be rough?" he asked, rubbing his neck

"You tried to sneak attack me," she exclaimed in disbelief.

Stiles grunted, struggling to get free of Cora's headlock. She laughed at the flailing attempt. He looked like a fish flopping on the floor.

"Wow, you're pathetic," she laughed, shaking her head.

"And, you're no help. You just enjoy kicking my ass," he grumbled, getting up.

"I'm trying. You're not listening."

"I am!"

"You're still making the same mistake," she told him, moving so that she stood behind him.

She was close. There was a brush against his arm here, a brush against his leg there. there was full on blunt force when she knocked him flat. And honestly? He kind of like it. The girl took charge. Maybe there was a little bit too much charge sometimes, but it was intriguing. It wasn't always intentional. This was the most attention he'd received from any girl. So, he was a little distracted.

Cora placed her hands firmly on his shoulders and smoothed them over his biceps, helping him find the right fighting stance. Using her knees, she kneed him in the back of his legs, causing his legs to buckle.

"There," she said low.

She came around to face him. The evening sun poured into the loft, splashing the near empty place with orange rays of light. Stiles's breathed out, shuttering from the sudden loss of her blunt touch. He was glad, but not. She certainly was a Hale.

They sparred some more before calling it quits for the evening. Stiles had practiced a bit with Scott, but mostly he was training with the fem-Hale. She wasn't shy about bruising him like Scott. That helped. It was more realistic and drove him to try harder.

"You've gotten better, but you need to focus," Cora told him.

"Well, my medication can't be upped any more. Any suggestions," he asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his navy sweatpants.

"Meditation," she offered.

"Like monks? I don't have to take a vow of silence do I?"

"No, but it would be nice if you did."

Seeing that he didn't catching the hint that she was joking, she sat on the floor and took off her shoes then crossed her legs. Stiles followed suit, sitting across from her. A thousand and one things ran through his mind. It was hard to quiet all of it. None of it really did get quiet. From a roar, it settled to a mumble. He took in a few deep breaths.

Even when Cora touched him on the shoulder gently, he remained there. It was peaceful.

Cora watched him. For nearly two hours he sat erect, his hands dangling off his knees. Even when Derek came back he remained still like a statue.

"What is he doing," Derek demanded.

"Shhhh," she said, pressing her index finger to her lips. She didn't take her eyes from him.

Derek shook his head and walked towards his room, ignoring his sister's attempt to help the spaz. He didn't know why she was getting so involved with him. She was supposed to throw him around like a ragdoll, whip him into some sort of shape that would lessen his chances of dying. Lately, she'd been working harder than that with Stiles. Hopefully he wasn't rubbing off on her.

After few more minutes, Stiles opened his eyes and blinked a few times. His muscles had loosened up a great bit, but getting up proved differently. His legs ached and shook some when he stood up fully. He breathed out deeply as he rolled his shoulders, keeping the aches to himself. His Dad didn't like him coming home bruised.

"Wow, what time is it? I swear I only closed my eyes for a few minutes," he said.

"It's about nine," Cora replied, watching him closely.

Sweat trickled down the side of his face. Though he argued a lot with ridiculous ideas, he was really trying. She'd never tell him that she was impressed and never show it either.

Stiles walked past her, his hand skimming hers, making her fingers tingle. The intentional meaning to do so was not lost on her. They didn't say goodnight or see you later. He'd tried that a few times and only received a 'whatever' in reply. There were only leering looks of a certain satisfaction with his progression. She showed no real interest in him, friendly or otherwise, much like Lydia Martin.

Lydia let out a squeal followed by laughter.

"Aiden! I'm trying to be serious," she giggled as the werewolf bit into her neck playfully from behind.

They landed on the edge of her bed, with Lydia in his lap. Her Mom had been extremely lenient about Aiden staying over, but she wasn't home all that much since she was too busy with work to crack down on the open door policy. She'd become the new science teacher, specifically, Chemistry and Biology. Aiden had even stayed over a few times. Mom blamed herself for not paying attention and scolded him lightly.

"Don't worry so much," Aiden whispered in her ear.

She smiled at the feeling of his breath on her ear and how it sent shivers down her arms, causing the hair to stand on end. He held her tightly and kissed the spot right beneath her earlobe. She sucked in a short breath.

Turning in his arms, she kissed him, cupping his face in her hands.

"I love you," she said against his lips.

She didn't give him a chance to reply. She pressed her lips to his again.

Aiden insisted that they take a break from training. They'd been going at it for a week straight. She insisted on it. She was the weakest out of everybody. The girl barely knew how to hold a fist. She knew how to do several things, even outsmart werewolves, but fighting? No. Usually wit won out in the end. Thinking back to Melanie's match with Derek made her aggravated. Thinking about Melanie just annoyed her overall.

She and Aiden settled into bed with the intention to get rest. He didn't want to make her achiness worse by fooling around. It got rough when they did. She had some sharp nails and had gotten a manicure earlier today. No rough play.

He gave her a rub down, enjoying the groans that purred from her lips. That was gratification enough for him. She wasn't like other girls who were so easily to slip between their thighs and manipulate. She made him work for it, but it didn't really feel like he had to work for it. It was burden that he could live with, even if she did complain about Melanie too much. Those two really had it out for each other.

"I'm scared," she confessed after he turned out the lights and slid into bed beside her.

"Me too," Aiden said, holding her.

She curled up, laying her head against his chest. He was warm, safe. They fell asleep easily.

When she opened her eyes it was still dark outside. She laid on the cold concrete. The only source of light came from pool lights, shining through the blue water of the local pool. Her whole body shivered from a warm breeze. The weather had been getting warmer lately and showed no sign of going down anytime soon.

"How did I get here?" Her voice quivered.

Lydia walked to the edge of the pool beside the lifeguard's chair. The water lapped at its edges. Something was up in the chair. Her gut tightened uncomfortably. The urge to vomit was overwhelming. A hand hug over the metal arm of the chair. She held herself tightly, trying to stop shaking. Breaths were shallow.

"Hello?" she called out uneasily.

She looked up at the chair and screamed.

Isaac leaned against the wall, watching Allison. He wondered if she knew what air conditioning was. It was extremely hot. She didn't seem bothered by it all. A thin layer of sweat made her skin glisten. She wiggled her toes, not paying attention to the stare he was giving her.

"My weather alert is telling me that a heat wave is settling over most of California," she commented, scrolling through her computer.

"Great," he grumbled. He couldn't give a shit about the weather. Melanie had taken up most of his thoughts. Derek's orders were ingrained in his brain, but his urges to take her-have her was extremely present as well. His whole being felt like it was being torn in half. On top of that, Allison was getting more and more angry at Melanie. It didn't matter how much he tried to prove to Allison that he was with her and no one else.

"I really don't care about some stupid weather report," he chided. "What is it you wanted to show me?"

"I don't have anything to show you, but I overheard my Dad. He was on the phone with somebody. He's going to some warehouse tonight. Somebody else was kidnapped," she explained.

"Okay. How about we intercept," he asked

She smiled at him and closed her laptop.

"Just what I was thinking. Just let me grab a few things."

He smirked and followed her out of the room. She went to the weapon case in the living room. It looked like a normal wardrobe. She pulled out her ringed daggers and swung them around her fingers then set them in their holsters that sat perched on her upper thighs. Her sat in a messy bun on top of her head. Sitting down, she laced up her boots and then grabbed her jacket and crossbow.

The drive was mostly quiet. She focused on the road and he stared out the window. Directions had been put into the GPS. Isaac turned on the AC and looked out the window. The silence left him thinking about Melanie. He shouldn't have been thinking about her, but he was. He hoped her hand was doing better. It must've been with how much she'd been working out over at Derek's loft.

The way she'd gotten so upset the other day tore him up. All the pent up anger in both of them came out. Fighting had become a regular occurrence. Maybe it was time to tell her about everything. It was getting harder not to. The fighting would either end and they would be able to work something out or the friendship they had now—which was deteriorating quickly, would end. Whatever would happen, she would know and he wouldn't feel like his intestines were twisting painfully. The deadly effect would leave him dead inside, though. Not literally, but to a point that he would wish it was literal.

They pulled up to the warehouse and got out of the car.

"You go in first," Isaac said. "I'll be right behind you. If anybody is here they won't expect you to have company."

Allison nodded and proceeded into the warehouse, not arguing. It was a decent plan. Each step was soft and nearly silent. Isaac heard her frantic whisper and rushed to her side. Shadows clung to the corners that the pale moonlight couldn't reach.

She stared up at a hanging body, her hand hovering in front of her mouth as her breath shook. A few feet off, rope wrapped around a person's neck and was rubbing it raw as he swung, struggling helplessly to get free.

"Oh god," Allison breathed.

Isaac hurried over and lifted him, trying to free the rope from him neck. The man gasped as his oxygen supply was revived. A loud shot rang out, tearing through the rope. The man collapsed It felt to the floor, cracks echoing from the landing. Allison spun around to see her Dad standing not far off, a shotgun in hand. His icy eyes stared the teenagers down.

"What are you doing here," he asked coldly.

"We came to help," Allison managed, looking back at the person Isaac knelt down beside.

"We were almost too late," Chris said, lowering the weapon. He still gripped it tight as if waiting for an attack.

"It's our history teacher," Isaac said after a few moments. "Mr. Westover."

Mr. Westover wheezed slumped over, staring at the two teenagers in muddled confusion. Chris turned away, perching his shotgun on his shoulder. He pulled out his cell phone and called Deaton.

"It was just in time," he told him then hung up.

He thought that they'd been a step ahead. He'd found the possible targets, those that had been killed already, and those that could possibly be next and still they weren't stopping this or saving anyone. It pissed him off.

"Go home," he told Allison and Isaac. "Separate homes."

His eyebrows rose knowingly. Isaac took one more look at Mr. Westover. Allison tugged as his arm, pulling him along.

As soon as she pulled up to the house he got out. He didn't say goodbye or anything of the sort. All he could think of was lying down on his soft pillow and passing out. Melanie wasn't anywhere in sight when he walked through the front door. He could hear her stereo upstairs.

He turned on the TV and slid off his shoes. Anything was better than nothing for a distraction of what happened today. A woman; she was a news anchor, was talking on TV. Sheriff Stilinski was at the sight of the murder. It was the end of the story, not revealing what happened. The weather came on next.

Upstairs, Melanie's door was cracked a little. She could hear the TV as she laid on top of her covers in shorts and a tank top. She turned the page of her book. She'd decided to read for her own personal fun for a change rather than do more research. Fun sounded nice and well deserved. Researching, getting beaten up, training, school—none of that was fun. It sucked actually. This however, was a nice escape.

She listened as Isaac flipped through the channels then eventually turned the TV off. She thought about getting up and closing her door the rest of the way, but didn't. Mostly it was because she was lazy. Her toes locked together as her legs sat up and swung back and forth from her buttocks to nearly touching the bed. Her palm itched. She flexed her hand to help it go away. Eighty-one; that's the temperature her iPod said earlier. The temperature hadn't dropped at all, but climbed today.

"Hey," Isaac said, standing in her doorway.

Melanie didn't look up from her book or respond. She wasn't wearing her glasses. They weren't something she needed all the time, just most of the time. Right now, her eyes needed to relax and stop straining. He walked in, slumped, and sat down on her bed beside her, rearranging her pillows as he laid back, putting his hand under his head.

"Still pissed off I take it," he asked nonchalantly.

"No, I'm reading. You're interrupting," she replied flatly. She let out a short sigh, having lost her place on the page.

He looked over at her, settling on the sight of her legs and moved up them to her lower back that showed with how is scrunched up a little from how she laid on her stomach then to her shoulders where her hair sat off to one shoulder. Her ocher skin shimmered from the heat pulsating against its smooth terrain.

"What do you want," she asked.

"Just been a bad night," he said.

"So you decided to bother me some more?"

"I thought I'd say sorry."

"Say it then get out."

"Yeah, you're still pissed at me."

"Why shouldn't I be," she inquired snottily, setting her book aside, ruffling the pages.

Isaac shot up, huffing.

"I'm trying, I really am," he said.

"Trying what? We were perfectly good friends before you decided to move yourself in here."

"I never wanted to be your friend," he exclaimed.

Melanie looked away from him. Her eyes watered as she seethed; her fist clenched tightly.

Never huh? Wow, she thought. She'd never felt this hurt before. She never allowed herself to get this hurt, not even with Seth. Her bangs in her eyes.

"I didn't mean it like that," he breathed, hitting himself in the forehead with his palm.

"Whatever, it's fine."

"It's not fine. Mel, I—"

"Just stop."

Her voice was quiet now. Her face had softened from the rigidity it had when they fought.

"No," he replied.

Melanie sat up, turning away from him. He caught the glint of her belly button ring before she pulled her top down over the small bit of revealed flesh.

"That's not what I meant by that."

She said nothing. She just wanted him to leave. Her stomach swirled, and she didn't want him to see her puke. She wondered if she could be pregnant because she felt sick a lot, but she hadn't had sex in a very long while. That option was out.

The bed shifted as he moved to sit next to her. Melanie scooted away from him as far as she could without falling off the edge. He stood then, restlessness overcoming him. She sat so proper now with her legs together and her hands in her lap.

"I don't know how to tell you, and I can't," he breathed out, his eyebrows pinching together in frustration.

Melanie turned her head sharply to look at him, her stare cold and deadly. She thought, can't tell me? Her heart beat faster. What the hell couldn't he tell that would do this to them?

"It's eating me alive…" he breathed.

Melanie stood right then. Concern creased over her face. Moving to her door, she opened it some.

"Just go. You're tired," she said.

These ramblings put her at unease. Isaac moved quick, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her against him. She was so small and fragile in his hands like a porcelain doll whose curls were coming undone.

"Isaac, stop. You're scaring me." Her voice quivered.

He didn't let go of her arm as he caressed her cheek. Her hair hung messily over her shoulders and scaled down her back.

"I am tired," he mumbled, but it wasn't from exhaustion.

Melanie felt the rumble of his voice through his chest against hers. Her everything quaked at the feeling. She shook her head though her stomach ached the way it did when he had kissed her in the motel. In a way, it was worse than when she felt ill.

He moved in, and the moment seemed so surreal. His breath blended with hers like small a tasting. She held onto this moment. This was the one that she'd hate herself for. Isaac pressed his lips to hers. It was light at first then suddenly it wasn't. She grabbed him roughly by his shirt, keeping herself there as he wrapped an arm around her, fully placing her against him. He tangled his other hand through her dark hair, pressing her backwards. The breath in her lungs was taken from her when her back collided with the wall behind them.

She didn't know how they got here. One minute they started arguing and she told him to go and now…this was out of control. This, him kissing her like this, making her want him. She didn't want it to stop. Her whole body hummed and she wasn't entirely sure whether it was just from the heat or how he touched her.

She gasped when he moved down to her neck, nipping it. He lifted her off her feet shoving her against the wall with more force. That only made the ache at the pit of her stomach worse. Her back arched into him. He met her lips once more, and she could taste the urgency on his tongue.

Through blurred eyes she noticed the picture taped to the edge of the mirror of her vanity. Stiles was cowering from her as she stared at him in shock from accidentally tossing his lunch on her. Allison sat across from them and covered her mouth with her hand she was laughing so hard.

"Stop," she said, pulling away from his kiss.

He moved for her neck.

"Isaac, stop." She said, her gentle, pleading tone not changing.

He pulled back, setting her back on her feet.

"Please go," she breathed, trying to slow her heart rate down.

He tried to to comfort her, going to hold her shoulders, but she held out her hand, taking a few side steps away from him. She stared down at the white plush carpet.

Isaac walked out, closing the door quietly behind him. He heard her burst into tears and collapse to the floor.

""What've I done?" she muttered.