word count: 8,458
polyvore: username is 'sarcasticfina' - check under collections for one named after this story
episode: 1x02 - second chance at first line

V

When Malia woke the next morning, Scott was gone, leaving behind a sticky note that read, simply— thanks! see you at school! - scott

She plucked it off her lamp and held it above her head for a moment, tracing the letters of his name with her eyes. And then she groaned and dropped her hand down onto her face. "When did I become such a dope?"

Shiloh let out a little bark for attention, tail wagging hard enough it was knocking against the floor.

Malia turned herself over and peered, sleepily at her dog. Half-smiling, she pulled herself up from her bed and walked over to Shiloh's bed, crouching to rub her hand over Shiloh's head and pet her ears. "Pee time?"

Shiloh wiggled around, her tongue lolling.

"Thought so."

After taking Shiloh out to use the front lawn as her personal bathroom, Malia plopped down on the couch with a bowl of Corn Pops balanced in her lap and sighed. They were only halfway through January and she was already tired of school both mentally and physically. Of course, that probably had a lot to do with the more recent werewolf drama than anything. Not that school work was particularly enjoyable…

There was a knock at the door then, drawing her attention. Before she could call out, it swung open, admitting Stiles. He nodded 'hello,' flicked his fingers in her direction in a wave, and made his way to her kitchen. He poured himself a bowl of cereal before he joined her on the couch, flipping over the back to land gracelessly next to her on the cushions.

She eyed him curiously. "You're early."

"Thought we could go over options for this Derek Hale problem." He reached over and knocked his spoon against hers before digging into his cereal. Mouthful, he said, "Whaoofinkboutgetimarsted?"

Malia blinked at him. "I'm gonna need to say that again with less food in your mouth."

Chewing obnoxiously, he rolled his eyes and swallowed. "I said, what do you think about getting him arrested?"

Her nose scrunched up. "For what?"

"Stalking? Breaking and entering? Biting people in the freaking woods? Take your pick."

"I'm not sure most of that will stick. And anyway, what if that just pisses him off?"

"Can't get much retaliation from a jail cell." His waved his spoon at her rather smugly, spraying her cheek with a little milk. "Whoops." He stuck the spoon in his mouth and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe it away.

Malia swatted him away and glared. "Ew. And what if your dad just gives him a warning? So far, all we know is that werewolves are supernaturally strong and fast and can hear and smell things from long distances. That and if provoked or angry, they can be really violent. So, what happens if we bring this up to your dad and it makes Derek snap?" She shook her head. "If he really did bite Scott—"

"And the evidence points to yes, he did!"

"—right, so if he did, then shouldn't we be wondering what he was doing in the woods in the first place? Because we know why we were there…"

Stiles' brow furrowed. "You think he killed the girl."

"I think it's a pretty weird coincidence that a body shows up in the woods, severed in half, and when we go looking for it, it just so happens that a werewolf takes a giant bite out of Scott's hip. I mean…"

"So, that's what we can get him on then!" Stiles nodded quickly, his eyes bouncing around as he started to put together the threads of a plan.

"Wait, wait, wait." Malia waved a hand to slow him down. "We don't actually know that Derek did it, or that he's the one that bit Scott."

"How many werewolves could there possibly be in Beacon Hills?" He scoffed. "No, he did it. I'm sure of it."

Malia frowned. "But why though? Why seek Scott out if he turned him? If he is a killer, if that's what his intention was that night, then it just doesn't make sense."

"Unless he's making a pack of killers…" Stiles sat back against the couch thoughtfully. "What if he is?"

"Scott would never go for that. I mean, he's Scott."

"When it's not a full moon, sure. But, you saw him yesterday. When something sets him off, he's not himself. He didn't even recognize me. He just wanted to… tear my throat out." He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze falling to his lap. "We have to do something."

"Yeah, well, we're running out of time to come up with a plan, so if you have any suggestions…"

Stiles blew out a sigh and shoved a teetering spoonful of Froot Loops into his mouth, chewing them sulkily.

Malia joined him.

…

At school, Malia was sitting in the grass under her favorite tree, picking through the assigned book for English so she could get a head-start on what she wanted to write for an upcoming essay. The teacher had given them a few options to pick from, but she was having trouble focusing on anything in particular. She couldn't stop thinking about her conversation with Stiles that morning. What if Derek Hale was both a murderer and a werewolf and he really was trying to pull Scott into whatever twisted up after-school special he was playing out in the woods? As much as some of the pieces seemed to fit, she felt like something was missing. All Derek had tried to do— in, admittedly, the most lurky and suspicious manner possible— was warn them that Scott was dangerous. If he really was a killer, wouldn't he encourage that kind of behaviour rather than keep Scott from playing in a potentially rage-inducing game that weekend?

Taking a bite out of her apple, she chewed on both it and those thoughts, her book sitting forgotten in her lap.

"Hey!"

Startled, she looked up to see Allison standing in front of her wearing a bright, friendly smile. "Hey."

"Guess what?"

Malia shrugged. "I don't know. What?"

"I know I said I was busy after school today, so we couldn't get to the gym, but my plans with my mom were cancelled, so, I'm free! If you're still up for it, I thought we could give the drop-in a try."

Nodding, Malia put her book aside. "Sure. I'm not doing anything after school."

"Great!" Allison took a seat in the grass, folding her legs beneath her. "We can leave from here if you want. I just need to drop by my house really quick."

Malia hesitated briefly, thinking of Allison's dad and how he was, apparently, a hunter. Much as she liked Allison and even wanted to let this friendship they were building actually go somewhere, there was another part of that couldn't help but see this as a good chance to dig up some information. There was a high chance she would find nothing worth noting. It wasn't like a potentially dangerous hunter just left his 'to kill' list out in the open for strangers to read. Then again, maybe he was terrible at his job… One could hope. "Sure. I don't mind."

"Cool. Then I'll meet you at your locker after last class."

"Sounds good."

Allison motioned to the book then, sitting atop Malia's bag. "English class?"

Malia nodded. "Yeah. Prepping for the essay."

"Ugh. I hate essays." Her shoulders slumped briefly, before she perked up with an idea. "Hey, we should work on it together. Like, have a study session or something. We can trade ideas on the character's motivations. Maybe it'll help us flesh out whatever topic we pick."

In the past, Malia had mostly done her homework with Scott or Stiles. Usually Scott, if only because Stiles had trouble sitting still for too long. He was easily distracted, which meant that it rubbed off on the rest of them and, well, little got done. On his own, Stiles was brilliant. It might take him a little longer, but as long as he didn't have an outside stimulant distracting him, he stayed on top of things. Malia couldn't say the same. She was average at school. There were classes she liked and others she'd rather break a finger than go to. But, she persevered. Scott was a little easier to work with. He was patient and encouraging, if sometimes distracting in an entirely different way… Malia shook her head then, feeling a stab of discomfort at recognizing her awkward feelings for Scott when his kind of, sort of girlfriend was sitting in front of her, making a seriously kind gesture.

"Sure. But, forewarning, I'm a terrible study partner."

Allison grinned. "I'm sure we'll figure it out."

…

Leaving last period, Malia looked up as a jogging Scott caught up to her. "Hey." Her brow furrowed. "I thought you and Stiles were hanging out today. He had some ideas about how to work on your whole… 'aggression' thing."

"We are. I just wanted to talk to you."

"Oh. About what?"

"About last night."

"Okay…" She unhooked her bag from her arm and crossed the hall to her locker. "What about it?"

"After I had my freak out, we didn't talk much about the whole Derek thing."

"I think you got your point across. You think he's dangerous and you want me to be more careful." Opening her locker, she switched out the books she needed for that night's homework and put the others away. "I get it."

"I don't just think he's dangerous, he is dangerous." His fingers cupped her elbow, tugging at her so she'd look at him. "Look, I don't know a lot about him. I tried looking up the Hale fire, but it didn't give me much to work with. What I do know is that he's a werewolf. You don't know what it's like to feel that out of control. There's this… this need to hurt things. It's like every human part of you just stops existing for a moment and everything goes red."

Malia's brow furrowed. "Okay, but that was when you were triggered."

"Right. But we don't know him. We don't know what his triggers are. Or what he'll do to keep this werewolf thing a secret." He glanced around the hallway quickly, nervous that someone might overhear, and then he leaned in a little closer and dropped his voice. "I just, I need you to remember that he's not like us. Not like you. His instincts are different."

"Scott—"

"Malia, I know you, okay? You want to fix things. You want to protect the people you care about. I admire that about you. But I don't want you to search this guy out." He stared at her seriously. "He's already found you twice. I don't know why, but he has. Maybe it's a warning to me. That he can get to the people I'm closest to. I don't know. But don't make it easier for him."

Taking a deep breath, she let it out on a sigh. "I promise I won't go looking for him, all right?"

Relief visibly flooded him. At least until—

Malia poked his chest. "But you are right about me being protective. I don't care if he's a werewolf or a leprechaun. If he comes for you or Stiles or your mom, this weak little human is going to de-fang that furball."

Scott stared at her a beat and then broke out into a goofy grin. "Thank you." Leaning forward, he popped a kiss on her forehead and then fled, turning on his heel so he was walking backwards down the hall as he called out, "I'll Skype you later!"

Malia frowned after him, aggressively pretending her forehead was not— in any way, shape, or form— tingling.

…

That afternoon, Malia found herself standing in the foyer of the Argent house, her arms crossed loosely over her chest.

"I just have to grab my stuff from my room. If you're thirsty, the kitchen is that way…" Allison pointed to her right before she climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Malia watched her go for a moment and, when she was sure Allison was out of hearing range, started toward the kitchen. She took her time, looking at the pictures on the wall and displayed on a few end tables. A pink-cheeked, brightly smiling Allison at various ages with Chris Argent and a sharp looking red-head. Victoria, that was what Allison had said her mother's name was. Victoria Argent looked like the personification of a poison-tipped dagger. It was a little unnerving to look at.

"It's Malia, right?" a vaguely familiar voice said.

Jumping, Malia turned on her heel to see Mr. Argent staring back at her with a warm grin that made that the dimple in his chin pop. "How is, uh…" He snapped his fingers. "Forgive me, I've forgotten your dog's name."

"Shiloh. And she's doing good. She gets tired a little easier than usual, but she's healing."

"I'm glad to hear it." He nodded. "Are you and Allison doing something today?"

"Gymnastics." She shifted her feet awkwardly. "I was into it when I was younger, but lost interest. So, we're gonna see how rusty we are."

"That's great." He brightened. "I'm glad to see Allison is making friends. It can be hard on her, moving so much."

"Yeah." Malia nodded. "She's mentioned it."

"What about you?" He leaned his hip against the kitchen island, seeming completely at ease. "Have you always lived here?"

"As long as I can remember, which is pretty much kindergarten." She cocked her head curiously. "Are you guys planning on staying? I know Allison's hoping she'll get to set down roots, make friends with people she knows she won't have to say goodbye to."

His smile wavered a little, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. "You ask the hard questions, don't you?"

"Never really saw the point in talking around a subject." Malia shrugged and walked a little deeper into the kitchen. "Being blunt is just part of my charm."

"That it is." His gaze fell as he nodded. "Well, I wish there was an easy answer. I can say that we came back to Beacon Hills because it was home once. The Argent family has a lot of ties to this place. Unfortunately, my business demands that I move around a lot. It's not an ideal situation for Allison and I get that, but she's good at adapting."

"Most people are when they have to be." Malia stared up at him, feeling like a rope of thorns was twisting around in her gut. It was dangerous to tread this close to the subject at hand; to lay out a bear trap right in view of the bear. "What business are you in, anyway? Must pay well to travel all the time."

His mouth kicked up faintly. "Looking for a part-time job?"

Malia snorted. "Probably wouldn't hurt."

"I'm a security consultant and, when necessary, an arm's dealer. All above-board, of course."

Her brows hiked. "Arms," she repeated. "Like, guns."

He nodded. "It's a booming market. Which, I know can sound a little scary, but… It keeps me in business."

Humming, Malia looked to the side thoughtfully. If he was dealing in guns, that meant he had an arsenal at his disposal. This wasn't like her dad going on a trip to the woods with a few buddies. This was serious.

"So? Still interested in that part-time job?" he joked.

She looked back at him. "My dad hunts— deer, mostly— so, I can handle a gun if I have to. But, somehow I don't think there's a weekend gig I can pick up."

"No. Not exactly." He stared at her searchingly a moment, a tiny furrow between his brows, and Malia worried that maybe she'd shown her hand just a little too much.

And then Allison walked into the kitchen. "Please, tell me you aren't embarrassing me by interrogating my friend."

"Strangely, I feel a bit like I was the one being interrogated." Mr. Argent grinned though, before crossing the space between them to stand in front of Allison. "Are you gonna be home for dinner?"

Allison glanced at Malia and shrugged. "I don't know. We might pick something up. It depends on how things go."

"Okay. Keep me posted." He dropped a kiss on Allison's head. "Your mom knows where you're going?"

Rolling her eyes, Allison nodded. "Yes. I already texted her." She held up a bag then. "We really have to go. We still have to stop at Malia's to grab her things."

They didn't, actually. Malia was borrowing some clothes from Allison since her house was so out of the way. Since Allison was clearly looking for a way to get out of the house and away from her dad, however, Malia nodded. "I kind of live out of the way and the gym is only open to the public for so long."

"All right. Message received." He held his hands up in surrender and backed away obligingly. "You girls have fun."

"Thanks." Allison half-smiled. "I'll see you when I get home."

"Okay. And Allison?"

She was already passing Malia for the hallway leading to the front door, but looked back at him over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Love you."

Embarrassed, her cheeks flushed an even brighter pink. "Love you, too," she mumbled, before hooking a hand around Malia's shoulder and towing her toward the door.

Malia let her, purposely not turning around to glance at Mr. Argent. Knowing now that he was a hunter— that his job was to hunt down people like Scott— Malia wondered if the wary feeling in her stomach was a forewarning of just how complicated this whole situation was becoming. She glanced at a picture of the Argent family, sitting prettily on a table, next to a vase of fresh flowers. There, they looked perfect. Ideal, even. Two parents with their lovely daughter. The sharpness of Victoria's features seemed softened and the clear adoration Chris had for his family was evident in his grin. And in the tender kiss he left on Allison's head before she left. It was a strange thing to think about. That a man could so viciously hunt down and kill a werewolf and then come home to be a loving father in the same evening.

"Sorry about that," Allison said as they left the house, the door clanging closed behind them.

"It's fine."

"He's just overprotective." She twisted her mouth up. "They both are."

As they walked down the driveway to Allison's car, Malia wondered, "Does it bother you?"

"Sometimes, yeah. I mean, I know the world isn't all rainbows and bunny rabbits, but sometimes it feels like he's trying to shield me from having a life at all. I think if he had it his way, I'd spend any time not in school locked away in my room like some kind of Rapunzel reject."

Malia hummed. After climbing into the passenger seat, she put on her seat belt and then chewed on the next words she wanted to say. They'd climbed up her throat and were sitting heavy on her tongue. A part of her didn't want to voice it, but another part couldn't help it. "As someone whose dad kind of sucks at the whole 'present parent' thing, I kind of get the appeal of having someone worry about you, too. It might suck, but at least you know he cares."

Allison shifted in her seat to face her. "Your dad…?"

"He's around. He just never really got over my mom and sister dying. And I get it, because it still hurts me, too. But… I don't know. Sometimes I wish he'd stop living so much in the past."

Allison's mouth turned down sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

Malia shrugged. "It's okay. I get by just fine. And I'm not saying that your dad deserves an award or anything for being overprotective. I just think there's a balance. Somewhere. Somebody's gotta find it."

She smiled then and nodded. "I get it."

Awkward now, Malia faced forward. "Cool. So, let's get to the gym. I wanna see how much I suck after six years of completely forgetting everything I was ever taught."

With a laugh, Allison pulled the car down the driveway and onto the road.

…

Later that night, Malia returned home to entirely too much homework. Although, in her opinion, any homework was too much homework. After taking Shiloh out to pee, she took a shower, sang along to some retro Britney Spears, and smoothed her soapy hair up into a faux-hawk. Finally finished avoiding the inevitable, she sat down at her desk to face her dreaded homework.

It was just before ten when she got the notification that Scott was trying to Skype her. Happy to put off the last bit of her homework, she accepted and sat back in her chair. "Hey!"

"Hey." He squinted and leaned toward the screen. "Is that a bruise on your cheek?"

Reaching for it absently, she shrugged. "Oh. Yeah." Rolling her eyes sat herself, she said, "It was dumb. Allison and I were on the trampoline at the gym and we were doing flips to show off. Anyway, we got a little too close and knocked into each other. She's probably got a twin bruise on her shoulder, but I got a knee to the face, so…"

His brows hiked as a slow grin formed. "Are you okay? Is she?"

"Yeah. It was more funny than anything." She stacked her hands on top of her stomach. "How did things go with Stiles?"

Scott sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Not great. I mean, I didn't wolf out or hurt him, but it's hard to stay focused. I feel like I'm being pulled in too many directions. Mom's excited I'll be playing. Coach keeps telling me I'm an asset. But, I can't concentrate in class because I get overwhelmed with all the noises and the smells and thinking that something's gonna set me off and I might wipe half of them out without even knowing it. And then I'm worried Derek will show up at the school or track you down. And Allison! I feel like I'm avoiding her and I don't want to be."

"It's okay to get overwhelmed, Scott. It's not like there's a 'How To' for this stuff. But, the only way to get through this is to focus on the biggest obstacle. That's the aggression. We have to find out what your trigger is and find a way around it."

"What if we can't?"

Malia rolled her eyes. "You can't think like that! You're just psyching yourself out. Look, you wanted to get on the lacrosse team, right? So, what did you do?"

"Worked at it."

"Yes, every day and every night, you were out there hitting the field. Even when your whole body told you no, you still tried. So, treat this like that. You want to be in control, right? You want to play the game and stop worrying you're going to hurt someone. Well, work at it."

Scott nodded slowly. "You're right."

"Yeah, well, I usually am."

He smiled. "Thanks, Lia."

"Yeah, yeah." She rocked her seat forward a little. "Hey, I know you have lacrosse practice tomorrow, but maybe I can help you and Stiles on Thursday after school. We can test a few triggers and see what ticks you off."

"Is this just an excuse to poke fun at me…?" He frowned. "Because Stiles pelted me with lacrosse balls today. It sucked, but it didn't change much."

"I'm thinking it's deeper than just pain. I mean, yeah, what Jackson did physically hurt, but I think it was more than that. He was taunting you, making you feel like you weren't good enough."

"You think it's psychological?"

"Isn't everything?" She shrugged. "Can't hurt to try."

"Actually, it literally can…" He brow furrowed. "What are we gonna do if you guys actually do trigger something and I change?"

Malia considered that thought. "You know what, let me figure that out. If we have to chain you up, we will."

Scott's brows arched. "Chains?"

"I know. Kinky, right?"

He snorted a laugh.

A little alert let them know Stiles had logged on too, so Malia gave Scott a look and then added him to their chat. The two screens of her best friends were side by side then.

"Hey!" Stiles grinned. "Scott tell you I beaned him with a lacrosse ball today?"

Malia laughed. "No, he didn't."

Scott groaned and sunk down into his chair.

Leaning back in her seat, Malia looked to Stiles. "Tell me everything."

"Okay, so—"

…

With Scott and Stiles at lacrosse practice and Allison busy with Lydia, Malia was on her own for the afternoon. Not a terrible thing; sometimes, she liked having some time to herself. It wasn't until she got home that she realized Shiloh was running low on dog food, so she made the trek down the road to the nearest convenience store, where they kept the brand Shiloh had been eating since she was a floppy-eared puppy. Grabbing up a basket, Malia made her way up and down the aisles, picking up a few extra groceries as she went, before eventually making her way to the front.

A girl sat behind the counter, wearing a dark blue smock and a crooked nametag that read Erica. She had bags under her eyes and her frizzy, blonde hair hung over her shoulder in a loose braid. A geometry book lay open in front of her, pencil tapping against the edge. She looked up, startled, as Malia started unloading things on the counter.

Quickly standing from the bench, Erica smoothed shaky hands down her smock. "Um, hi."

"Hey." Malia put the basket to the side and cocked a curious brow. "Are you new? Usually, Ramón is running the front."

"Yeah, he's my cousin. I just started last week." Erica shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Did you find everything you needed or…?"

"I only came in for dog food." She looked down at the Kraft dinner, bread, licorice, eggs, and milk and sighed. "It's fine. Ramón's prices are usually better than at the grocery store anyway."

Erica half-smiled. "Yeah, kind of has to be to compete." She started scanning things through and bagging them. "Did you bring your dog with you?"

"No. I would usually, but she has a cast on her leg so walking is a little difficult right now." Malia rocked back on her heels. "You go to Beacon Hills High, right?"

"Yeah, I'm a freshman." Erica nodded, her shoulders a little hunched. "You're a sophomore, aren't you?"

"Yep. And already counting down the days to graduation."

Erica laughed. "Me, too."

The bell rang above the door, briefly drawing Erica's attention toward it, before she returned it to Malia. "Is sophomore year any better? Everyone's always talking about how being a freshman is the worst, but once you're past it, things get easier."

"It's not perfect. Most of the seniors are dicks." Malia shrugged. "I don't want to be that person and say 'it gets better,' but it does. Anyway, high school is only four years of your life, right? Personally, I'm hoping to get out and never look back."

"My dad says that all the time. But, my mom talks about high school like they were the best years of her life…" Erica grimaced. "Mom was head cheerleader, crazy popular, dating the captain of the lacrosse team. It's a lot to live up to."

Malia nodded. "Rough."

"Yeah." Erica sighed.

"On the bright side, you've got a job. You're already one step ahead of me." Malia dug her wallet out to pay the balance. "Which also means you're one step closer to getting a car which, trust me, comes in handy."

"I don't know if working part-time is going to buy me a good car, but if it gets me from Point A to Point B I'll be happy." Erica handed her back her change and put the receipt in one of the three bags she'd filled.

"Thanks." Taking the bags off the counter, Malia nodded. "See ya."

"Yeah, see you around." Erica smiled before retaking her seat on the stool and returning to her homework.

Malia made her way outside, readjusting the bags so the weight didn't pull too much to one side. She was just crossing the dirt parking lot when flashing headlights caught her eye. Turning, she stared at the sleek black Camaro that was slowly rolling toward her. She raised an eyebrow and squinted through the tinted windshield to find Derek Hale frowning back at her.

With a sigh, she glanced at the store and then moved around to the passenger side. As the window rolled down, she bent to see him. "You know, at this rate, a stalking charge is right around the corner…"

He rolled his eyes. "Get in."

Malia shook her head. "Why would I do that?"

"Those bags look heavy."

"I'm a lot stronger than I look."

He stared at her a beat, a peculiar look on his face, and then— "It's about Scott."

Malia frowned. Her heart tugged and then dive-bombed into her stomach. "What about him?"

Derek sighed irritably. "If you get in the car we can talk about it."

"Why should I trust you?"

Out of patience, he told her, "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have by now."

"That's literally the least encouraging thing to say."

Derek rolled his eyes. "There are security cameras outside the store. If you go missing, the first person police will look at is me. All right? I'd be stupid to do anything to you."

She shrugged. "I never called you smart."

Sighing, he shook his head. "Will you just get in the car? Please?"

Malia considered saying 'no,' but she was intrigued. Plus, she had questions for him regarding Scott and his new werewolf status. Questions she was pretty sure only he could answer. "Fine." She pulled the door open. "But, if you wave one claw or sprout one fang, I'll make sure you never have puppies."

He snorted, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for her to take a seat. She'd hardly closed the door before he was pulling away from the store and onto the road.

Tucking the groceries on the floor between her booted feet, she frowned at him and pulled her seat belt on. "Well? What's so important that you're stalking me?"

"Saturday."

"The day after Friday and before Sunday." Malia leaned back in the passenger seat, affecting an unworried posture despite the fact that her stomach was a knot of uncertainty. How long ago was it that she told Scott she would be careful around Derek? Was it her fault if Derek went looking for her? Okay, so getting into his car probably wasn't her brightest idea thus far. But, her gut was screaming at her to figure this whole situation out.

"He hasn't quit the lacrosse team yet. Do you have any idea how much damage he could do?"

"We're working on it."

"Pelting him with a few balls isn't going to fix this. He's a werewolf. He has no control of himself or the shift. If he gets on that field, he'll take out anybody in the way."

Malia shook her head. "You don't know Scott. I've known him since I was ten years old. He's physically incapable of killing anyone."

"The Scott you knew is gone. When he shifts, he's something else. He doesn't see people— he doesn't see you or your friends or his family. Until he's able to control the shift, he's just a loose, feral animal. And he will hurt people. It doesn't have to be intentional. It'll happen anyway."

Malia's brow furrowed. "Then how does he do it? If you know so much, then tell us how to help him!"

Derek didn't answer, scowling at the road ahead.

Giving a rough laugh, she nodded. "See, this is what I mean. You lurk and you point fingers, but when we ask you to help us—"

"You're not the only problem I have on my plate, all right? You and Scott are just one part of a much bigger issue."

Pursing her lips, she wondered, "What else is there?"

He scoffed. "If I need your help, I'll ask for it."

"I wasn't offering my help." She curled a lip at him. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't like you. That tends to happen when you threaten my friends. But you have answers to my questions, so I put up with this shadowy, secretive shtick you have going."

He rolled his eyes. "What questions?"

"It was the bite, right? That's how it transferred to him. Is that how it happens for everyone?"

Derek glanced at her, brow furrowed. "No. Most are born into it. It's passed down through the family. Others are turned by their alphas."

"Alphas?"

"You really don't know anything," he muttered. "The alpha is the leader of the pack. They make the decisions, keep everyone in line, teach them how to live as a werewolf, how to balance things. The only way for a human to turn is to be bit by an alpha. But being bit doesn't guarantee they'll become a werewolf. It's more than that." His jaw clenched. "If anything, Scott is lucky. He might not see it that way, but what he's been given is a gift."

"Generally, a person gets to decide if they want a gift."

The car suddenly pulled to a stop then and Malia looked up to see they were parked in front of her house. She wasn't sure if this was a kind gesture or a not so subtle message that he knew where she lived, so she should be a little more careful.

Derek shifted in his seat to face her. "You need to talk to Scott. He won't listen to me."

"Threatening his life wasn't the smartest route." Malia grabbed up her bags and pushed the car door open. "Thanks for the ride."

Before she could climb out, his hand coiled around her forearm, gripping tightly

Malia looked down at it and then raised an eyebrow at him.

He didn't let go, but he did let up a little. "Scott thinks I'm trying to ruin his life. I'm not. I'm trying to stop him from hurting innocent people. I can't be there every time he puts someone at risk, but I have a feeling you will be. So, talk some sense into him and keep him off that field." He stared up at her, his eyes flashing a startling blue. "Do you understand?"

Malia tore her arm free of his hand. "I don't like being intimidated. And I really don't like being a go-between. If you're so worried then step up and teach him how to stay in control." Leaving the car, she slammed the door shut and walked toward the house, her heart pounding a little too hard and her palms sweaty. But she kept her chin up, unwilling to let him see her fear.

Once she was inside, she leaned against the door and sunk to the floor. She listened with half an ear as gravel kicked up under the Camaro's wheels as he left. Letting out a heavy breath, she dropped her head back and closed her eyes. For a moment there, she could admit that she'd been scared. That a part of her still was. Malia didn't know Derek or what his motivations were. He said he wanted to keep Scott from hurting others, but he only popped up to throw around threats of violence. If he really was Scott's 'alpha,' then shouldn't he be doing more?

A whimpering noise caught her attention then and Malia looked over to see Shiloh making her way toward her, her gait slow and awkward. She climbed into Malia's lap and licked Malia's chin, offering as much comfort as she could.

Malia let go of the bags to wrap her arms around Shiloh, burying her face in her dog's fur and just breathing in her familiar and comforting scent. She let herself break down for just a few minutes— let herself be swamped with panic and worry. And then she shook it off. She stood from the floor and picked up the bags. She scratched Shiloh's ears and led her over to her bowl so she could refill it with food and water. As much as Derek Hale and his prophecies of death and violence scared her, she wasn't going to let it dictate her life or choices.

That didn't mean, however, that she wasn't going to try and keep Scott from inadvertently hurting people.

…

Later that night, Malia Skype'd Stiles to talk about his and Scott's lacrosse practice.

"Barely got off the bench, as usual." Stiles sighed. "I ran a few drills, but I don't think I'm making first line any time soon…"

Malia frowned. "That sucks."

"Yeah, well… Not all of us have supernatural werewolf reflexes."

Leaning forward, Malia rested her chin on her hand and stared at him searchingly. "Does it bug you?"

"Am I jealous, you mean?" His brows hiked, a faint smile pulling at his mouth. "I don't know. Maybe a little." He shrugged and dragged a hand over his shortly cropped hair. "Scott sees it as a burden and, I mean, don't get me wrong. There's some downsides here."

She snorted. "That whole raging violence thing, yeah."

"Right, but… Look at all the other parts to it. He's faster, stronger, can hear, see and smell better. At what point do we start thinking that maybe the benefits outweigh the problems?"

"About the same time we're sure he's not going to accidentally kill somebody."

"Yeah." He scratched his chin. "Well, he played goalie today. Since he catches everything and Jackson wasn't around, nothing really set him off. But, Coach said he'd be on the field on Saturday so he better be ready to play."

Malia hummed. "Good."

"Yeah, what about you? What'd you do today?"

Malia thought about lying. She thought about burying everything that had happened with Derek and just never thinking about it again. But there were things that Stiles needed to know. Scott too, of course. In the process of trying to help Scott, it was clear that she and Stiles needed to have more information on what to do. "I ran into Derek Hale again."

"Wait, what?" He leaned forward in his chair, eyes bouncing around her face. "And you're just telling me this now?"

"You were busy." She shrugged. "Anyway, it wasn't a big deal."

"When? How? Why?"

"I was picking up dog food and he pulled his car up, said he needed to talk."

Stiles slapped his hands together in a prayer. "Please, please tell me you didn't get in the car."

Malia grimaced.

"Are you kidd—? Malia!" He threw his hands up. "What if something happened, huh? What if h-he took you or killed you? How would we even know?"

"There were security cameras outside the store and—"

"And what? So, we find out after the fact? That gives us no chance to react, to help you, nothing."

Sitting back, she nodded. "You're right. Look, I wasn't thinking about that."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he groaned. "What were you thinking then?"

"He said he wanted to talk about Scott. He threated to kill Scott like two days ago and we only had a few days before he played the game. I was hoping he'd give us something to work with. Something that would help us help Scott."

"Okay, okay," he interrupted, waving his hands. "I get it. It's Scott. We want to keep him safe. But you can't risk your life for that."

"Stiles, you're the one who wanted to go into the woods to look for a dead body while a killer was still on the loose! I'm not sure you can point fingers at me for not being safe."

"Yes, I made a dumb suggestion and we probably never should've gone into the woods. But getting in the car of a potential murderer-slash-definite werewolf kind of outranks that."

"What? How?"

"We might have run into a murderer. You knew for a fact you were getting in the car of a werewolf!"

Malia rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine, whatever. The point is that he didn't kill me and we did talk."

Stiles shook his head. "Not the only point, but sure, what did he have to say?"

"A lot of things. But the most important piece is that he said Scott wasn't his only problem. That he had more on his plate than just us."

"Yeah." Stiles nodded dismissively. "He's probably talking about the hunters that they ran into in the woods."

Malia frowned. "I think it's more than that. When I asked, he avoided the question. If it was the hunters, he could've just said that. He knows Scott would've told us. I think something else is going on. Something bigger than all this."

Stiles seemed skeptical. "Bigger than Scott wolfing out and killing the whole lacrosse team?"

"On the bright side, if you're on the bench, your chances of survival are a little higher…"

Stiles snorted. "Not a terrible point."

Rolling her eyes, Malia scraped her hair up into a ponytail. "Anyway, he wants us to keep Scott from playing. Which I'm not completely against. At this point, we have a day or two to get his issues under control. I'm not sure if throwing balls at him is going to accomplish that."

"I've been working on that." He drummed his hands against his desk. "I have an idea…"

"I'm all ears."

…

Come Thursday, Malia found herself regretting her clothing choices for the day. After showering that morning, she'd noticed a bruise on her forearm. It was shadowy, but it perfectly outlined four long fingers. Apparently, Derek had held on a little too tight. In an effort to avoid any discussion about it, she'd decided to wear a long-sleeved cardigan to keep it covered. The last thing she needed was a teacher or her dad seeing it and making it into a big deal. But, now that she was at school, she was realizing just how warm it was.

By lunch, she was sitting outside by her favorite tree, her cardigan purposely pushed off her shoulders but still covering her arms. Picking at her food, she tried to concentrate on her book, but found her thoughts drifting to what she and Stiles had planned for after school. They needed to get Scott worked up, but she couldn't help worrying about what they would do once he was. If he really was a danger, how sure could they be that they could subdue him before he hurt them?

Fed up with feeling sticky and sweaty, she removed her cardigan, letting it pool behind her. There were no teachers around and Scott and Stiles were practicing in the field, so she didn't imagine she'd have much issue. At least until—

"Hey!"

Malia looked up, squinting against the sun, and found a smiling Allison and an unenthusiastic Lydia in front of her. "Uh, hey."

Allison took a seat in the grass, her legs crossed beneath her. She unhooked her bag and pulled out her lunch, purposely not looking at Lydia, who was pursing her lips in distaste. "So, I was thinking, if you're free next week, maybe we could go to the gym again."

"Yeah?" Malia smiled. "How's your shoulder?"

Allison laughed. "Not as bruised as it could be. Your cheek healed pretty quick."

"Some of this is make up."

Lydia sniffed. "I didn't know you wore any." She carefully took a seat and plucked at her skirt, rearranging it so it flared around her thighs fashionably.

Malia glanced at her. "Mostly just mascara. There's only so much YouTube tutorials can teach you."

She hummed. "You're lucky you have such nice skin. You get away with it."

Taking the compliment for what it was, Malia merely nodded. To Allison, she said, "It was fun. I'm up for going again if you are."

"Definitely."

Fanning herself, Lydia lifted up her hair and pulled it over one shoulder. "You two realize it's much cooler inside, right? And I don't just mean that socially."

Allison wiped at her forehead, where sweat was beginning to dot, and then shrugged off her jacket. "It is pretty warm today."

"You get used to it." Malia chewed on a corner of her sandwich. "What're you doing this weekend?"

Allison looked to Lydia and then shrugged. "Haven't decided yet. Lydia said she might go bowling."

Malia raised an eyebrow, her mouth kicked up, amused.

"What is that? Why the look?" Lydia pointed at her with a pretty pink fingernail. "Why is that funny? You don't think I can bowl?"

"It's not the bowling. Most of that's math and angles. You're probably good at it."

Raising her chin rather haughtily, Lydia said, "I am."

Allison looked between them nervously. "Guys—"

"What's funny is the idea of you wearing bowling shoes."

Lydia's nose scrunched up. "I prefer not to think about it."

Malia laughed. "Maybe you can get a custom pair made, with a little wedge heel."

A small smile formed on Lydia's mouth. "Not a completely terrible idea, Tate."

It wasn't exactly an olive branch to start over, but it was something. Lydia soon turned the conversation to lacrosse, asking them if they were excited for the first game.

Malia grabbed up her bag and dug around inside it for a container of sliced up oranges. Taking off the lid, she pulled one out and was just sinking her teeth into it when she noticed a pause in the conversation. Looking up, she found Allison frowning at her.

Malia looked down and realized her arm was on full display. Wiping orange juice from her chin, she shook her head. "It looks worse than it is."

"Is that from gymnastics?" Allison's brow furrowed.

"Uh, yeah." Malia rubbed her arm awkwardly. "It's fine."

Lydia squinted. "It looks like fingers." She reached out, folding her hand around Malia's arm and slotting her fingers against each one. When she looked up, her gaze was sharp. "I'm not familiar with gymnastics. Which part would cause an injury like that?"

Malia shook off her hand and leaned back. Before she could come up with some kind of excuse— admittedly, she had no idea what she was going to say anyway— Stiles appeared.

"Hey!" Stiles grin wavered, however, when he realized just who she was sitting with. His wide-eyed gaze bounced from her to them and back, brows raised expectantly.

"Hey, Stiles. This is Allison and Lydia. Also, what are you doing here? I thought you and Scott were practicing…?"

"We were. But then he kicked my ass, so I tapped out." Abruptly taking a seat, he grinned at Lydia, briefly glancing at Allison. "What are you guys doing?"

"Nothing, just wondering what kind of trouble Terrible Tate's gotten herself into now." Lydia kept her gaze on Malia— as much as her words could have been cruel or rude, they instead sounded slightly concerned.

"What?" Stiles' voice raised before he turned a panicked look on Malia. "What makes you think she's in trouble?"

Lydia's gaze fell to Malia's arm, which drew Stiles' eye as well.

"Whoa! What is that?" He reached out, fingers barely brushing her skin. "When did that happen?"

"At the gym, with Allison." Malia frowned. "It's not a big deal."

Stiles stared at it, his mouth falling open to disagree.

"It looks like fingers," Lydia said again.

Stiles looked up and turned, catching her eye.

She stared at him a beat and then returned her attention to Malia. "Not that I care, but the school employs a counselor for a reason."

Malia bit the inside of her cheek, simultaneously amused and annoyed. "Thanks for the tip."

With a tiny shrug, Lydia looked to Allison. "Can we go inside now, please? This heat is destroying my hair."

Allison looked from her to Malia, wide-eyed. "Uh…"

"Go ahead," Malia encouraged. "I'll text you later. We can make a plan for the gym."

"Okay. Great." Allison smiled as she stood, picking up her jacket as she went. "Bye Malia. Stiles."

He waved at her, gaze following Lydia as the two girls climbed the stairs to the school. As soon as they were out of sight, he whipped his head back around to her. "Is that what I think it is?"

Sighing, Malia grabbed up her cardigan and pulled it on, covering her arm once more. "Derek was trying to get his point across. Apparently, he really wanted me to remember it."

Stiles' face tensed and he shook his head. "We need to do something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know! But he can't get away with this." He fidgeted, shifting around uneasily. "We should tell Scott."

"No."

He frowned at her. "He'd want to know."

"He has enough on his plate," she insisted. "And if we tell him, he'll do something stupid, like confront Derek."

"What's so wrong with that?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Scott has a short fuse lately. He could end up hurting himself or Derek. Even killing him! Werewolf or not, Scott would never be able to forgive himself for killing someone. We need to handle this the right way."

"Great!" He scoffed. "So, what's the right way?"

"We get Scott under control and then we figure out what Derek is hiding. Because if there's something else out there, we should know about it."

"What if the big secret is that he's a psychotic serial killer? Huh?"

"Then we prove it and your dad arrests him." Malia shrugged. "But not until we know for sure. I don't like him, but he knows things we don't."

Stiles sighed. "I don't like this… He knows where you live, he's purposely looking for you, and he hurt you…"

"This is barely anything." She shook her head. "Allison kicked me harder at the gym. He's just trying to intimidate me. And I'm not going to let him."

"Yeah, well, I'm intimidated. And worried…"

"I'll be fine." Malia grinned encouragingly. "I promise."

Stiles stared at her a long moment and then held out a hand, his pinkie raised and an eyebrow arched.

Malia bit her lip to hide a smile. "You're such a dork." She hooked her pinkie around his and squeezed. "I promise."

As certain as she sounded, however, they both knew that some promises were inevitably broken.

tbc

author's note: okay, so, sorry for the late update. i meant to get this up yesterday. small issue. chapter 6 ballooned into just under 14k and i prefer not to post that much in one chapter, so i've split it into two. however, i made a promise you would all see concerned!scott and a confession, soooo, i'll post the second half in a couple days. and i'll still post regularly come this weekend, so it won't be a week and a half long wait!

on the bright side, there's more malia&stiles friendship in this. a few of you mentioned there wasn't much in the last chapter, so i hope this makes up for it. there was less scott/malia though, because much of it is in the second half of this chapter.

things to look forward to next chapter: danny, anchor?!, malia talks to her dad, a confession, a confrontation, and a plan. :)

thanks for reading, please try to leave a review!
- Lee | Fina