word count: 11,226
polyvore: username is 'sarcasticfina' - check under Collections for one named after this story to see all of Malia's fashion choices
episodes: 1x03 - pack mentality

X

"All I'm saying is that the power dynamics feel a little off lately… Like, Scott's Batman and I'm his plucky sidekick."

Malia tore a bite off her Poptart and squinted at him. "And you want to take turns in this roleplay…?"

"It's note a roleplay." Stiles rolled his eyes. "I just don't want to be Robin all the time, you know? Like, I can be Batman." He motioned to himself, his other hand tapping irritably at the steering wheel. "I've got Dark Knight written all over me."

"Uh-huh." She brushed some crumbs off her lap. "If you and Scott switch off on Batman and Robin then who, exactly, do you think I am?" Malia raised an eyebrow.

Stiles' mouth fell open for a moment. "Question… Is there even a right answer to that?"

A slow grin formed on her lips. "Are you wondering if it'd be sexist to go with a female character?"

"Kind of."

"Maybe even someone that's sometimes a hero, sometimes a villain, like Catwoman."

He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "You could pull of the leather cat-suit in a pinch."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Neither of you are Batman or Robin."

"Hey!"

"Are you secretly fighting crime when I'm not looking? No. You're doing homework, playing video games, and occasionally practicing for lacrosse." She crumpled up the wrapper of her sugary breakfast and shoved it in the cup holder to be thrown out later. "When you save a few lives or take on the Joker, then we'll talk."

"But, you at least agree that if we were fighting crime, I wouldn't just be the sidekick, right?"

Sighing, she leaned her back against the passenger door and stared at him. "Wasn't Robin an acrobat or something? If anything, I'm Robin. And you're… Commissioner Gordon."

"What?!" he squawked.

Smothering her amusement, she shook her head. "You're so easy… Anyway, it doesn't matter who's wearing the leotard or the mask or throwing bat-shaped whatever at whoever. There's no ranking system on who's the bigger hero, especially since we've done literally nothing heroic. But I'm sure that if we did, you and Scott would be working equally hard to solve it. All right?"

Somewhat mollified, he nodded. "Yes, thank you." He drummed his hands on the steering wheel then and checked his mirrors. "Do you think we will?"

"Will what?"

"You know, save people… I mean, I know Scott's pretty hung up on the whole 'being normal' thing right now, but… Imagine what you could do with those kind of skills."

She eyed him thoughtfully. "Make you a pretty efficient detective."

"Right?" He grinned. "Guarantee yourself a spot in the FBI…"

"Stiles?" She shook her head. "You don't need super senses for that. You'll get in on skill alone."

His gaze fell for a moment and he shifted in his seat. "You think?"

"Yeah, of course."

He grinned slowly. "You're getting soft on me, Tate."

"Whatever." She scrunched up her nose. "Anyway, what are you going to do tonight now that the only two people you hang out with will be bowling?"

"Oh, you know— homework, video games, help a few old ladies cross the street. The usual."

"Uh-huh. You know, you could just come with us."

"Bowling?" He pulled a face. "I don't think I want to watch Scott fail that hard in front of his nemesis."

"Jackson?" Malia snorted. "He's hardly worth the title of 'nemesis.'"

"Arch-rival?"

"Sure. That'll work." She looked up as the school came into view and sighed. "How many more days until summer?"

"Too many."

She sent him a withering scowl. "That was hardly encouraging."

"Only one of us can be moral support and since you already pulled the 'you'll be the best agent the FBI has ever seen' shtick, I'm stuck with being the comedic affect in this friendship."

"I said you were skilled. Not the best they've ever seen."

He pressed a hand to his chest and groaned. "Straight to the heart."

Snorting, she rolled her eyes. "You'll live."

"And you'll survive math class."

Malia grimaced. "We'll see."

…

While she might be surviving, Malia was bored to tears in math class, which made her especially relieved to feel her phone vibrate. Carefully pulling it out, she placed it on her binder, just out of view, and pulled up her messages.

Cole (1)

—'still on for tonight?'

Biting her lip, she thumbed back. —'how can i turn down bowling?'

A beat passed before— 'is it impressive or dorky if i'm good at bowling?'

—'won't know until I've seen your moves.'

—'who says I have any?'

She smothered a laugh. —'shouldn't you be talking yourself up?'

—'i don't know, there's a thin line between confident and cocky…'

Malia glanced up to make sure no one was paying attention and then quickly typed in a response —'which one are you?'

—'which one do you want me to be?'

She paused before answering —'genuine.'

—'i genuinely can't wait for tonight.'

She wrote out —'me either.' But then, wondering if she was being genuine herself, she erased it. Instead, she wrote —'not bad.'

He sent a winky face in reply. —'do you like me yet?'

A smile pulled at her mouth. —'i'm getting there.'

—'i can work with that.'

It was a throwback to the party and, she had to say, she liked it.

…

Malia was on her way to her locker, reading through a few texts from Allison, when she spotted Erica. Her head was down, shoulders hunched, books hugged tight to her chest as she kept to the edges of the full hallway, trying her best to blend in. Remembering their conversation on Sunday, Malia cut across the crowd in her direction. It was break, which meant people were taking their time instead of rushing to next class, but that only served to irritate her as she tried to wade through the distracted, clustered students.

Finally reaching the girl, she hooked a hand over Erica's shoulder. "Hey."

Startled, Erica whipped around, her eyes wide.

"Sorry." Malia shrugged. "Guess I could've called your name."

"It's fine." Erica glanced away and then back. "I didn't think you'd talk to me here."

Her brow furrowed. "Why?"

"I don't know. It's so… public."

"You know you're not a pariah, right? You're just a Freshman." Malia shrugged. "It's not like you have cooties."

With a snort, Erica raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I do."

"Look, I just wanted to apologize…" She hooked a thumb in a belt loop of her shorts. "You were right. I was in a pissy mood and I wasn't seeing things from your point of view. I don't know what it's like to be you or what school's like for you. What I do might not work for you, I don't know. And I'm only a year older, it's not like I wrote a 'how to' for surviving high school."

Erica sighed. "You weren't that bad. I was kind of a brat… I just, I don't know. My mom's always telling me to do things like she did and it'll just make everything better. She forgets she was pretty and athletic and never had a seizure in her life."

"Yeah, we're all pretty much just talking out our asses." Malia half-smiled. "Anyway, I put my foot in my mouth. Forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, seriously." Erica shook her head. "I totally overreacted."

"You had a pretty good point, though. I am lucky. I know some great people."

"You weren't totally wrong either. If I want friends, I want them to be the right people… I just don't know how to make that happen."

"To be honest, neither do I. I'm terrible at social interaction."

Erica half-smiled. "I've noticed."

"Malia!"

She turned, brow furrowed, and spotted Stiles waving at her from across the hall. His gestures were wild and frantic. Though, that tended to be a personality trait of his. Still, considering the current werewolf issue, she figured it was better to find out what was going on.

"Uh, sorry to cut this short, but…" Malia motioned to Stiles with her thumb.

Erica bit her lip and stared in Stiles' direction for a moment. "Yeah, sure. See you around, I guess."

"We go to the same school and you work at the only store that still sells my favorite Doritos. We'll see each other." With a nod, Malia took off across the hall, coming to a stop in front of Stiles. "What's up?"

Stiles stared past her shoulder. "Who's that?"

"Erica. Why?"

"Because I can name all your friends on one hand, that's why." His brow furrowed. "She a sophomore? I don't recognize her."

"Freshman." Malia tapped her foot impatiently. "Now, why'd you call me over here?"

"Since when are we making nice with Freshman?"

"I'll make nice with whoever I want." She shoved his shoulder. "Will you get to the point, please?"

"I didn't have a point. I'm your best friend. I don't need a point."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Seriously, you waved me over like you had something to tell me."

Stiles shrugged. "I can make something up if it's really bugging you."

"Whatever." She started down the hall, en route to her locker once more. "I'm hungry. What do you have to eat?"

He dug a granola bar out of his pocket and flipped it sideways, squinting at the wrapper. "Got some oats, chocolate, and caramel."

Snagging it from his fingers, she nodded. "That'll work."

"Hey! We're not even gonna split it?"

"You should've thought of that before." Tearing it open with her teeth, she spit the end of the wrapper at him, laughing when he batted it away from himself. "Here." She tore it in half and gave him the smaller piece.

"Thank you." He shoved the whole thing in his mouth. Still chewing, he asked, "So, where'd you meet the Freshman?"

"Erica," she corrected. "And she's Ramón's cousin, works at the corner store."

He squinted suspiciously. "The same corner store that Derek picked you up from?"

"Yes. And what's with the tone? You think she's his secret informant of something?" She rolled her eyes. "We literally met that same day."

"Fine." He frowned. "But, I still wanna know how he knows where you are…"

"He's a werewolf." She shrugged. "Maybe he sniffs me out."

Stiles pulled a face. "What do you think you smell like?"

"Shampoo."

He nodded. "Makes sense." A beat passed before he leaned over and sniffed at her.

Malia elbowed him in the side and hurried her steps, her locker in sight.

"I was just checking!"

"Yeah, and I know exactly where that leads." She unlocked her combination before glancing at him. "I'm not sniffing you."

"What if I secretly smell bad? You think Scott would tell me?" He sniffed at his shoulder. "I can't tell."

Shoving her books inside, she dug around in her bag for something else to snack on. "Look on the bright side, if you do stink, there's only two, maybe three people who know for sure."

"Didn't you tell Scott that we have no idea how many werewolves are running around out there?"

She glanced away and then tossed an apple in his direction. "So, avoid werewolves."

"Wait, so you think I do smell?"

Sighing, she shook her head. "Literally, no matter how I answer this question you aren't going to be convinced. Just ask Scott to sniff you."

"Fine." He bit off a chunk of apple and squinted at her. "But in future, if you ever need someone to smell you…" He flicked a hand between them. "I'll remember this."

"Yeah, you nurse that grudge, Stink-face."

He frowned at her. "Seriously?"

Malia shrugged, unapologetic.

…

Lunch saw Malia happily lazing under her favorite tree, far from the overcrowded cafeteria.

"You know what I just realized…?" Allison leaned sideways to catch a grape with her mouth as Malia threw it. When it landed, she threw her hands up in victory and did a seated wiggle dance.

Malia ate her own grape. "What?"

"We were supposed to go to gymnastics tonight. But since we're going bowling…"

"We're gonna miss their open hours." Malia's nose wrinkled. "We'll have to try again next week, I guess."

Sighing, Allison leaned back on her hands. "Not that I'm complaining, because I like bowling, but what else is there to do around here?"

"Movies, parties, underground concerts that are almost definitely illegal… Oh, and ice skating."

"Skating?" Allison perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah. There's a rink." Malia shrugged. "I haven't been in a while."

"Would you want to go?"

"Go where?" Lydia appeared next to them, smoothing a hand over her tight skirt. "And why do you two have something against indoors, where there's real chairs to sit in?"

Malia shrugged. "It's quieter out here."

"We were talking about ice skating." Allison beamed up at Lydia, raising a hand to cover her eyes from the sun. "Malia says there's a rink."

"Oh. Yeah. Jackson's not big on skating." She waved a dismissive hand. "So, not an ideal double date."

"Shockingly, we can do things without Jackson." Malia stared up at her. "How about you, Lydia? You skate?"

Lydia turned a look on her and forced a smile. "I can."

"Then it's set. We'll go skating." Malia looked back to a happy Allison. "Just us girls."

Allison looked between them. "That sounds great!"

"Yeah… great." Lydia continued to stare at Malia, searching for some ulterior motive.

But, Malia didn't have one. Except possibly discouraging any future hang outs becoming some kind of weird three-sided date fest. She hadn't even had one of those and she was already over it. As if to prove this, Malia extended a hand, both figuratively and metaphorically. "Grape?"

Lydia scrunched up her nose, but eventually dug a grape out of the bag dangling from Malia's fingers. "Thank you."

"Welcome." Turning back to Allison, Malia threw another one, grinning when Allison caught it again.

Rolling her eyes, Lydia carefully took a seat in the grass without any more protest.

In a weird way, it felt like progress.

…

There was only fifteen minutes of study block left. Malia had aced a practice quiz Danny had prepared for her and had made a sizeable dent in the homework. So, she was feeling pretty good up until the point he brought up the dreaded 'd' word.

"Are we gonna talk about your date tonight?"

Malia sighed. "Is it even a date when it involves six people and used shoes?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "He obviously wants it to be."

"You know, I never took you for a gossip."

Grinning, Danny said, "I'm living vicariously through you."

"You wouldn't have to if you dated your dad's boss's son... Who clearly needs a name, because that was a mouthful."

"I know you're just trying to distract me." After putting his books away, he rested his arms on the table. "Are you excited, nervous, considering escape routes…?"

She squinted at him. "If I was considering escape, would you help me?"

"We could come up with a safe word." He nodded thoughtfully. "You text it to me, I'll call you with a fake emergency. Or we can skip the dramatics and you just sneak out the back exit; I'll pick you up in the parking lot."

"Danny Mahealani, wheel man?" Malia grinned. "A hundred percent, yes."

Chuckling, he shook his head. "Deal. But, seriously… Do you even want to do this?"

She slumped back in her seat. "Honestly? I'm fifty-fifty. Cole seems like a really nice guy. He's a great kisser and very pretty to look at."

"Okay. But?"

"But…" She sighed. "It's not emotional. Not for me. There are literally no strings on this end. I like him, but I don't…"

"You don't like him the same way you like Scott." Danny stared at her searchingly. "Can I ask…? Why? Why Scott?"

"Because he's the best person I know. He has the biggest heart. He just cares on a level I struggle to. It's like… I built a wall around myself when I was ten. And he didn't knock it over. He just waited until I was ready to let him in..." She shook her head. "Scott though, he has no wall. He's just walking around unguarded, willing to put himself on the line for people. On the one hand, that's terrifying, and probably setting himself up for disaster. But, on the other… I envy that. Because I've spent six years holding most people at arm's length."

First, there was Stiles. He took one look at her nearly un-scalable wall and climbed it anyway, making himself a permanent fixture in her life. Through Stiles, she met Scott, and even though she was adamant she didn't need any more people, he changed her mind. Brick by brick, Malia made a door in her wall, and when Scott knocked, she answered. But it was a door she didn't open often, securely locked in an effort to keep people from getting too close. For the longest time, there was just her and the boys. Then Melissa asked for an invite and, happy to have someone in her life that resembled a mom, Malia accepted. Years later, Allison had made her own window. Danny snuck in. And Malia had a feeling, in time, Erica would have a key, too.

Sighing, she said, "It's more than that, though. It's how I feel when we're together. Like everything scary and painful in the world just stops existing. When I'm with him, I just feel safe and alive and… loved. And I know that he loves me, I don't doubt that. It's just not the way that I love him."

Danny hummed, but said nothing, his brow furrowed thoughtfully. "How do you know?"

She blinked. Whatever response she was expecting, that wasn't it. "What do you mean?"

"How do know what way he loves you?" He stared at her searchingly. "I don't want to poke holes in your theory and I don't want you to get any more hurt than you already are. But… have you ever wondered if maybe you were wrong? Maybe you were reading the signs wrong the whole time."

"You said it yourself... he's into Allison."

"There's a big difference between liking someone, even being attracted to them, and being in love. And sometimes we date and we're with people we don't love because we don't think we can be with who we really want." His brows raised. "Isn't that what you and Cole are doing?"

"Yeah, but…" She frowned. "No. That's not Scott. He genuinely likes Allison."

"Maybe he does." Danny shrugged. "But 'like' isn't 'love.'"

The bell rang then, signalling an end to their lesson. Danny hooked his bag over his shoulder and stood from his chair. "Look, I don't know McCall enough to say how he feels. But, I think you do. Take your feelings out of the equation and try to look at it, at him, from an unbiased position… See what you find. If I'm wrong, then I'm wrong. No harm, no foul. But if I'm right… Then maybe you do something about it." As he walked past her, he knocked a hand against her shoulder. "Text me after your date, let me know how it went."

Distracted, she nodded. "Yeah, sure."

…

That evening, Malia found herself semi-relieved that her dad wasn't home. The other part of her was worried that he was at a bar or that he might appear around the same time that Cole picked her up for their… date. The last thing she wanted was for them to interact, especially if her dad had been drinking. Which was why she was pacing a hole across her living room floor, absently pulling at the bottom of her top. It was, well, short. But Allison had been adamant that it was a cute outfit she should definitely wear out. She was regretting that. A lot.

The knock at the door jarred her. Malia's stomach bottomed out as she crossed the floor, took a deep breath, and yanked the door open with an attempted smile. She was expecting to find Cole on the other side, instead she found Derek.

"You look constipated."

Malia sighed. "Maybe this is my confused face. A totally expected reaction to you being here. And that you managed to knock on my door. Usually you just appear from shadows like some Dracula knock-off."

He shrugged, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets. "Consider this an attempt at civility."

"Cool, only two weeks late, but whatever." She pushed the door open wider. "I know you're not a vampire, so you don't need my permission to enter."

Snorting, he stepped through the door and took a quick look around. "Anyone else here?"

"You'd be able to hear them, wouldn't you?"

"Felt polite to ask."

"No. No one's here. My dad's out." She closed the door. "I'm going out, too. Soon." She raised an eyebrow. "So? What's up?"

"Scott investigated the bus, I'm guessing."

Malia nodded. "Yeah, said it was another wolf..." She watched him wander around her living room, lingering by the fireplace mantle and the many dusty salt and pepper shakers it wore. "He thinks it was you."

He picked up a pepper shaker shaped like a leprechaun. "What do you think?"

"That it would be stupid to help him remember if you were the one that did it." Crossing her arms, she stared at him searchingly. "What's really going on? You said you had more on your plate, is this part of that?"

Placing the leprechaun next to it's salt-less pot of gold, Derek turned to look at her. "I have a theory."

"About?"

"Who attacked the bus river."

"All right. I'm listening."

Taking a deep breath, he sighed. "I came to Beacon Hills for a reason. I don't make it a habit to come back to the town where my family burned alive in my family home…"

Realization dawned; a cold feeling that dripped down her body. "Your sister."

"Laura." He nodded. "She went missing and… I came here to find her."

Malia's heart sunk into her stomach. "Instead, you found a body."

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. Suddenly, he looked like the sharp and intimidating man she'd first met in the woods. Shrouded in mystery, a walking threat, predatorial and violent. "I found her in pieces, being used as bait to catch me."

She swallowed tightly. "And you think whoever attacked the bus driver killed your sister?"

He shoved his fists into the pockets of his jacket. "You remember when I told you that only an alpha can turn someone?"

She nodded.

"When a beta kills an alpha, they become the alpha. Whoever killed Laura took her power and they used that to turn Scott."

Malia's brow furrowed. "But why?"

"The more betas an alpha has, the stronger they are." He shrugged. "Scott was just a means to an end."

"If that's true, then what was the bus driver about? Is it some weird initiation?"

"Possibly." His brows hiked. "They could be testing Scott's loyalty to them."

Malia's lip curled in distaste "He doesn't have any loyalty to them. He doesn't even know them."

"True. But, a beta will feel…" He shook his head. "There's just a feeling of loyalty that comes with it. Especially if you're shifted. Packs are like family."

She scoffed. "That's one screwed up family."

"Yeah, well." Derek grimaced. "Whoever this alpha is, they're out of control."

Malia nodded a moment, but then paused. She turned narrowed eyes on Derek, suspicious and more than a little judgemental. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You asked."

Yeah, right. "I've been asking. From the very beginning, after you started showing up while I was jogging or going to the store or leaving a party. And every time, you've only given me bits and pieces to work with. What's different now?"

"If this alpha is seeking Scott out, if he lured him to that bus to get him to kill, then Scott is a bigger threat than I thought." Derek shook his head. "He won't listen to me. He doesn't trust me. But, he does trust you."

Her brow furrowed. "So?"

"You need to talk to him. He came to me because he was worried he hurt that bus driver. But more than that, he's worried he's going to hurt you."

"I'm not the only one who could get hurt. There are a lot of people in the line of fire." She tossed a hand up irritably. "Especially if some homicidal alpha wolf is running around biting random people to stock up power."

"It's different." His lips flattened. "Look, alphas are the most dangerous of our kind. This thing is more powerful, more animal than me or Scott. I need to find it- not just because of what happened to my sister, but because it's a threat to everyone in town."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Convince Scott that he can come to me. I can't track this thing on my own and he's the only other werewolf around here. We have to work together on this… Otherwise, I can't guarantee anyone's safety."

Malia licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry and a foreboding weight falling on her shoulders. She shook her head. "I can't make him trust you."

"But you can talk to him… If he thinks that this alpha might be a threat to you—"

"I'm not going to leverage his worry against him." She glared. "He's freaking out about this werewolf stuff already. Adding another layer of panic isn't going to help."

Derek rolled his eyes. "We don't have time to cushion him from this."

"Maybe we'd have more time if you didn't keep this stuff to yourself for two weeks!"

"I wasn't sure I could trust him… Some betas become so loyal to their alpha, they'll kill on cue. I didn't know who Scott was then. And since he wanted to put people in danger by continuing to play lacrosse, I wasn't exactly encouraged."

"What changed your mind?"

Derek folded his mouth and sighed through his nose. "Look, I told Scott that if I helped him remember what happened on that bus, if he wanted me to teach him how to control the shift, that he owed me. Saving the town from a bloodthirsty alpha seems like a good option."

Malia ground her teeth together. Before she could say anything, however, there was a knock at her door. Frowning, she walked to it and pulled it open.

Cole stood on the other side, half-grinning. "Hey."

"Hey. I'm almost ready, I just…" She looked back over her shoulder, to where Derek was standing. She couldn't exactly tell Cole who he was, so her next best option was a simple lie. "My cousin dropped by unexpectedly. Give me a minute. I'll meet you by the car."

"Sure. Take your time." Cole nodded to Derek in hello before turning on his heel and walking down the porch.

Closing the door, Malia returned her attention to Derek. "I can talk to Scott, but I can't guarantee anything. He's not exactly happy that he's a werewolf. I don't think he wants to get any more involved than he already is."

Derek nodded, a sour expression twisting up his mouth. "And if he doesn't?"

She sighed. "If there is a werewolf running around hurting people, then… I don't know. I'm not exactly swimming in accurate information when it comes to this stuff. But, if you need help… I'll do what I can."

"You're human," he pointed out. There was no condescension— it was a simple statement of fact.

"Yeah, and I pack a mean punch. I'm not offering to wrestle this thing one-on-one, but I'm not completely useless either."

A faint smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Cool." She grabbed up her purse and walked to the door. "Good talk. But, I have a date, so…"

Derek's brow arched, amused, and he followed her outside to the porch.

In the driveway, Cole was sitting in his car, lit up by the light of his dash.

"What's his name?" Derek wondered, walking with her.

"Cole. He's a senior. And completely human, so far as I can tell."

Derek hummed. "Scott know?"

She glanced at him, her brow furrowed. "He'll be there. With Allison. It's some weird group date."

"Seriously?"

She snorted. "Yeah, I know. I don't know how I got roped into it either."

Derek paused next to his car and looked back at her. "Have fun."

"Might be difficult now that I know what's going on."

He shook his head. "Probably the best time to do it. Things can only get harder from here."

As he pulled his door open and climbed into his car, she rolled her eyes. "Don't ever go into motivational speaking."

Not waiting for a response, Malia climbed into Cole's car, and watched Derek pull away through the side mirror. "Sorry for the wait."

"It's fine. You and your cousin are close?"

Malia smothered a grimace and pulled her seatbelt on. "Closer than we used to be. So, looking forward to bowling?"

Cole put the car in reverse and grinned at her. "I'm just glad we're hanging out."

"And in rented shoes, too."

He laughed under his breath. "I think I can pull it off."

"Yeah?"

He nodded.

She smiled. "We'll see."

…

"Well, look who finally showed up…" Jackson sent them an impatient smirk. "You get lost on your way to the only bowling alley in town?"

"That's on me." Cole smiled, shrugging lightly. "I didn't realize how far out Malia lived. Took a while getting back into town."

"Plus, they have police stationed around town, making sure people follow the curfew rule." Malia walked down the stairs to the bowling platform and looked to Allison. "I'm surprised your dad let you out."

"Yeah. About that…" She scrunched up her nose. "He didn't."

"What?" Scott's brows hiked. "You snuck out?"

"It's one night." Allison shrugged. "And the curfew is pointless anyway. I mean, at least the school is close to the woods and it's quiet at night. I can kind of see a cougar attacking someone there. But, there's too much noise and lights out here. We'll be fine."

"When'd you become our resident mountain lion expert?" Malia teased, before taking a seat next to her. "You know he'll freak if he finds out you're not home, right?"

"I think he was going out anyway. Chances are, I'll be home before he even notices."

"Sure, if we ever get this game going." Jackson looked between them, brows raised. "Sometime tonight."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Didn't know you were so eager to lose."

Jackson smirked. "Not this time, Tate."

"Jackson is a great bowler," Lydia piped up, grinning proudly.

He smiled at her and the two met for a kiss.

Grossed out, Malia turned her attention elsewhere, and found Scott hovering just at the edge of the chairs, looking awkward and unsure.

"Who's up first?" Malia wondered.

"That'd be me." Lydia stood and made her way to the lane, Jackson right behind her.

"Didn't know this was a group effort…" Malia fiddled with an earring, her brow furrowed as she watched Lydia, with Jackson helping guide her arm, throw a ball into the gutter. A second ball knocked down a record of two pins.

"I'm so bad at this," Lydia muttered as they walked back to the chairs.

Malia frowned, remembering just last week Lydia mentioned that she was actually pretty good at bowling. "Could be the shoes."

Lydia snorted. "Maybe that wedge heel will even out my throw."

"At this point, it couldn't hurt."

Lydia merely rolled her eyes before taking a seat, half in Jackson's lap.

As Allison took up position next, Cole shifted closer to Malia, keeping his voice low as he wondered, "Are you two friends?"

"Who? Me and Lydia?"

He nodded.

Malia curbed the immediate instinct to deny it, instead giving it some thought. As much as she might've laughed at the idea just a couple weeks ago, she'd spent more time with Lydia lately than she had in the ten years prior. "We don't actively hate each other."

His mouth curled slowly. "Is that an improvement?"

"Strangely, yeah." She focused on him— it was unfair how long his eyelashes were. "You know Jackson?"

He shrugged. "From sports, mostly. He's a good lacrosse player. Shit at basketball, though."

"How are you at lacrosse?"

He shook his head, his gaze dipping down to her mouth. "It's not my best sport."

"You're captain of the basketball team, right?"

"Mm-hmm." He nodded. "Why? You wanna come to a game sometime? I'll save you a seat."

She snorted. "Somewhere right up front, so I can admire your skills?"

He grinned slowly. "Didn't you already admire those?"

She laughed, her head falling back. "Maybe you can refresh my memory."

"Yes!" Allison made her way back to the group and high-fived a grinning Lydia as she went.

"Somebody brought their A-game."

Looking up at the board, Malia spotted a strike next to Allison's name. "Archery, gymnastics, bowling, what can't you do?"

Allison beamed back at her.

While Jackson was picking out a ball, Malia turned to see Scott sitting next to her, his knee bouncing nervously, hands clutched so tight his knuckles were white. She reached over, resting her hand on his wrist and squeezing. Leaning closer, so the others wouldn't hear, she said, "Want me to pull a fire alarm?"

He let out a strangled laugh.

"I've got Danny waiting for a 911 text. He offered to smuggle me out the back door."

Scott looked up at her, his brow furrowed. "How worried were you tonight would suck?"

Malia hummed. "On a scale of one to ten, probably a hard eight... You?"

"Twelve."

Malia smiled, gently and knowingly. "Say the word and we can leave."

He shook his head. "I just don't want to embarrass myself."

"It's just bowling." She shrugged. "Nobody really leaves here a winner."

Lydia cheered as Jackson scored a strike, too. Smugly walking back, he looked over, a brow raised. "Well?"

"I think I'm up." Cole stood and looked to Malia. "Wish me luck?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You're sure you don't want help?"

"So you can distract me? Nice try."

She grinned. "You're on to me."

He winked at her before walking over to pick up a ball.

"Please don't bowl a strike," Scott muttered, dragging a hand over his face.

Cole didn't; he bowled a spare.

Malia winced at Scott in sympathy.

He sighed, shoulders slumped.

Malia patted his knee, before looking up at Cole as he retook his seat. "Not bad."

He shrugged. "Didn't want to show off."

Amused, she rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh."

"You're up, McCall." Jackson and Lydia simultaneously turned around in their seats to pin Scott with a mocking stare.

Malia shook her head. "Think I just had a flashback to the murder twins in The Shining."

"You can do it," Allison encouraged, bumping Scott's shoulder with her own.

He half-smiled, looking nauseous and unsure. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he stood from his seat and made his way over to the bowling balls.

While Jackson looked on with a smirk, Scott slowly walked to the lane, weighing a green ball in his hand.

Malia leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees and her chin propped in her hands.

The first ball rolled right into the gutter and Jackson's obnoxious laughter quickly followed.

Malia didn't even bother glaring at him.

"Jackson," Allison said. "Mind shutting up?"

"You know, it's never too late to add the kiddie bumpers," he snarked.

"He probably just needs to warm up." Cole shrugged. "If you haven't played in a while, it can take a bit to get used to."

"Yeah." Jackson raised an eyebrow. "Or he just sucks at it."

"Just aim for the middle," Allison told Scott.

"How about you aim for anything that isn't the gutter?"

"Let him concentrate."

Scott stepped up to throw his second ball and… guttered it again.

While Jackson laughed, a defeated Scott wandered back to the benches.

"You should just do what I do next time." Malia passed him to pick up a ball. "Just imagine every pin is Jackson's face."

It was a hundred percent worth the sour look on Jackson's face when she walked away with a strike. "Yeah," she said, pointing. "That face."

Glaring at her, he sat back in his chair with a scowl. "Doesn't make McCall any less of a loser."

"Strangely, winning doesn't make you any less of an ass."

"Okay…" Cole stepped in, hooking an arm around Malia's waist. "Why don't we get something to eat? I'm buying."

Malia dragged her attention away from Jackson and managed a smile. "Careful. You don't know how many nacho platters I can put away."

Grinning, Cole nodded. "Let's find out."

…

By the time Malia and Cole returned, Jackson had just finished bowling. Lydia didn't look to be doing any better and Allison had a strike and a spare to her name. While Cole took his turn, Malia sat next to Scott, offering him some of her nachos.

"I think if I eat anything, I'll throw up." He grimaced, one of his knees bouncing nervously. "Why'd I agree to this?"

"You were worried if you said no, Allison would never want to hang out again." Malia shrugged. "You'd be wrong. I kicked her in the shoulder once and she wants to go ice skating with me. Like, with blades... on my feet."

Scott snorted and shook his head. "I hate bowling."

"No, you don't. When we were eleven, I dragged you and Stiles to a game, even though you told me a thousand times you sucked at it. We played until closing."

He sat back and sighed. "And I didn't win one game."

"It's not about winning."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Says the winner who wins at everything."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Seriously, you know what I remember the most about that night?"

He shook his head.

"Laughing. You threw a ball into the gutter in the next lane. I don't even know how, but it was hilarious. And Stiles convinced them to turn the laser lights on and we put the bumpers up, because who cares? We were there to have fun, not show each other up." She smiled. "Nobody's going to think less of you if you suck at bowling."

He stared at her a long beat and then nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

"Well, look whose turn it is now…" Jackson smirked. "Gutterball McCall."

Malia sighed, long and suffering, before focusing on Scott once more. "You can do this. And if you don't, well, there's plenty of nachos to drown your sorrows in."

With a quiet snort, he stood, tugging at the end of his shirt nervously as he moved to the balls once more.

Malia shifted in her seat and offered her platter to Cole. He plucked one off the top and popped it in his mouth. "Still only semi showing off?"

He nodded. "Almost landed another spare."

"Almost?"

"I'm going for a middle ground. Not great at bowling, but also not terrible."

"Does it have anything to do with the fact that Jackson's bragging makes him look extra douchey?"

Cole grinned. "It might, yeah."

"Good call." She looked back to Scott, who was lingering at the front of the lane, head ducked. Allison was watching him worriedly, chewing her lip.

Quietly, so no one but Scott would hear her, Malia said, "Think about the laser lights. Stiles with fries up his nose. Just the three of us and the guy selling smelly, used shoes."

Just as Allison stood from her seat, probably to try and give Scott a pep talk, he took a deep breath and stepped forward. He swung the ball down the lane and, to everyone's surprise, including Malia's, he bowled a strike.

Allison laughed joyfully, clapping her hands together as Scott made his way back to the group. "That was amazing!"

Scott grinned. "Thanks." Taking his seat, he plucked a nacho off Malia's plate and ate it.

Malia bumped her shoulder against his, her heart feeling two sizes too big, swollen with pride.

Cole's brows hiked. "Looks like I might have to up my game a bit."

Malia smiled. "Yeah, looks like."

…

Six strikes later and Scott was leading the board, which unsurprisingly had Jackson looking pissy. Which didn't seem to improve any when Lydia, deciding to bowl on her own and without Jackson's help, managed a strike of her own.

"That was kind of perfect form," Allison told her, eyes wide.

Lydia feigned surprise. "Was it?"

Leaning in, Allison said, "Maybe you should stop pretending to suck for his benefit."

"Trust me, I do plenty of sucking just for his benefit."

Grimacing, Malia looked at Scott, whose brows had hiked. He pulled a face and she returned it. Definitely more than either of them ever wanted to know about Jackson or Lydia.

"You want a refill?" Cole asked as Malia gave her drink a shake, the ice cubes rattling inside.

"Uh, sure." She handed him the cup. "I can pay for it."

"It's fine." He waved her off before making his way toward the stairs.

Lydia turned a look on Jackson, who rolled his eyes and stood, following Cole dutifully toward the concession.

"So…" As soon as they were out of ear shot, Lydia focused in on Malia. "Remind me again how you managed to bag Cole James?"

"We met at the party on Saturday. I know you saw me, Lydia. We literally talked to each other."

"That's right…" She twirled a ringlet of hair around her finger. "I forgot, you and Danny are all buddy-buddy now." She scrunched up her nose. "Still doesn't explain how you ended up dating a senior."

"Why do you care?"

"I wouldn't say 'care,' per se. It's more of a morbid curiosity..."

Malia sighed, already annoyed. "What are you even asking?"

"Mostly 'how?' Cole doesn't usually play outside of his social pool, so what's so interesting about you that he would?"

"Lydia…" Allison stared at her, mouth set in a frown. "Come on."

"What? It's a serious question. They hang out once at a party and suddenly he's asking her out on a date and running to and from the concession to get her whatever she wants. I mean, he's really pulling out the stops here to impress, so… I guess I'm just wondering what she did to earn it."

"Hey." It was Scott, his voice deeper than it seemed any of them were expecting. "That's enough."

Lydia stared at him a beat, seemingly put off by how direct he was being.

Malia leaned over a little, until her arm was pressed to his. "It's fine. Lydia's just pissy because Jackson forgot all his house-training and has to be reminded to do nice things for her."

Lydia's lip curled. "Whatever." She swiveled in her seat, feigning boredom. "Just some advice… A boy like that doesn't slum it unless there's a payoff."

A low growl echoed from Scott's throat. Malia reached for him, her hand hooked in his elbow. "Hey, Scott, they have that pinball game you like. We should check it out. Now." Not waiting for a reply, Malia stood, pulling Scott along with her. They moved past the concession and the front desk, turning down a corner that would put a wall between them and the others, safely hiding them from sight.

She looked him over worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Scott leaned against the wall, his head falling back, neck strained and chest heaving a little. "I can't… I just…"

"Hey." She pressed her hands flat against his chest and could feel his heartbeat racing. "Breathe with me, okay?"

He opened his eyes to meet hers and took a deep breath. Together, they held it, and then let it out slowly.

"You remember what worked before?"

"Star Wars, cookies, eyelash, red shirt," he said in a rush.

"Okay, so just, repeat that to yourself." She nodded. "It's just like when I have a panic attack, right? And I say the lyrics to mom's favorite song."

Scott squeezed his eyes closed and nodded. "She's like a cat." He fumbled. "Uh, a cat in the dark and then she is the darkness."

A slow smile formed on her mouth. "She rules her life like a fine skylark and when the sky is starless."

He licked his lips. "All your life you've never seen a woman taken by the wind."

"Would you stay if she promised you heaven?"

He opened his eyes then, his breathing steady. "I think I'm okay."

Relief flooded her. "Good. Because it's cheap night, so half the town is here. I don't think they'd react well to your furry little problem."

He chuckled. "Yeah." His head fell back again and he turned his gaze to the ceiling. "Hey, about what Lydia said—"

"It's fine. She's just being bitchy." Malia stepped back and let her hands fall from his chest. "She's mad because Jackson's in a mood that he's not winning. And anyway, it doesn't matter if Cole has some ulterior motive. Even though I don't think he does. Whatever happens between us, that's a choice I get to make. As of right now, I'm eating my weight in nachos and bowling a pretty good game. I'm not expecting the night to end with fireworks."

"Not after all that processed cheese. That stuff makes you gassy."

Malia laughed and shoved his shoulder. "Shut up."

He chuckled. "It does!"

"Yeah, well, now you're not getting anymore of my nachos. So, I hope you had your fill."

"I mostly tapped out around the second plate. And I think I have an accelerated metabolism, so I don't know where you're putting it."

Rolling her eyes, she scoffed. "I'll run it off later. Now, come on. We should get back before Allison sends out a search party or Jackson just declares himself the winner."

As she started to walk away, Scott's hand hooked around her wrist and tugged her back. "Wait."

Looking back at him, she shook her head slowly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just…" He slid his hand down until their palms met and folded their fingers together, squeezing gently. "Thank you for tonight. I know this whole group date thing was weird. And I probably should've said something to Allison about how much I suck at bowling so we could've done something else. But… You were right. That night when we were kids and we were the only people left in the whole place, it was awesome. I always remember when I was eight and I completely bombed in front of everyone and I just felt like a dork. But… you, me, and Stiles, it was great. Not like tonight. Even with all the strikes, tonight wasn't half as fun. I miss those times, you know? Before the werewolf bite and just all the complications that came with it. I love lacrosse and I'm glad I'm on the team. But, I'd trade all that in to go back to how it was before."

"Scott…" She sighed. "We can't go back. We can't reverse the bite. And we can't be eleven-year-old kids again. But… I'd gladly shut down any bowling alley with you anytime. And so would Stiles. With or without your super-whatever."

"I know. And that's why I really appreciate that you were here tonight." He shook his head. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Let's not find out." She pulled at his hand. "Ready?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

They came out from around the corner then and started back toward the group. Cole and Jackson were talking while Allison laughed at something Lydia was saying. It was strange, to watch them from a distance, knowing that they were supposed to be a part of the group but actively feeling like they just weren't. Slowly, the closer they got to them, Malia let go of Scott's hand. She let their fingers unlatch from each other before the tips of hers dragged along his palm. And as her hand fell loose at her side, it bumped against his, knuckles grazing.

"Hey, did you guys get lost?" Allison teased.

"Retro pin ball game. Couldn't pass it up." Malia dropped into the seat next to hers. "Who's up?"

…

By the end of the game, Scott walked away the winner. Relieved that he hadn't completely bombed in front of everyone, or shifted and hurt anybody, he was feeling pretty good. While the girls exchanged their shoes and Cole was in the bathroom, Scott spotted Jackson by one of the pinball games. If tonight was a sign of his future, he wondered if he might end up having to spend more time around Jackson and Lydia in future. He wasn't going to lie, they weren't his favorite people, and he had a pretty good idea that they didn't like him either. But, it couldn't hurt to try and make nice, right?

Drumming his hands against his legs, he walked over, watching the game light up. "Nice shot, man."

Jackson turned his head to stare at him; everything about his expression was sharp. Dropping his attention back to the game, he shut Scott out.

Taking a deep breath, he said, "Listen, I know we both didn't want to be here. But the thing is, we don't have to hate each other."

"I don't hate you. I just don't believe you. You know, you got everyone thinking everything's fine and normal about you, but I know something's off." He raised an eyebrow. "You cheated tonight."

"How do you cheat in bowling?"

"I don't know, but you did." Jackson shrugged. "And I don't know if it's steroids or something weirder. I'm guessing something weirder since it's pretty obvious that you're a freak." He looked him up and down dismissively. "So, don't think for a second I've given up on finding out what your little secret is."

"I don't have any secrets," Scott insisted.

"Yeah, you do." His eyes narrowed. "And I don't think it's too out there to assume that Tate knows what it is."

Scott ground his teeth together. A sharp pulling sensation rippled across his chest. "None of this has anything to do with Malia."

"You keep telling yourself that. But you two running off to whisper in dark corners is a big red flag. I don't care what you do in your personal life, McCall. But when your weirdness starts leaking into my life, I have no choice but do something." With that, he turned back to the game, effectively dismissing Scott.

…

Malia looked over at Cole, lit briefly by an orange glow each time they passed a street lamp on the road back to her house. They weren't far now. It helped that most of the police checks had either moved elsewhere or shut down for the night. "So, as far as dates go, how was that?"

"Not the worst I've been on." He half-grinned at her. "A little crowded, but I think we made it work."

"You're not a terrible bowler, so that helped."

"Well, I'm no Scott McCall." His brows hiked. "I don't think I've ever seen that many strikes in a row."

"Yeah, he must've been rusty at first." She looked ahead. "Look, Cole, I wanted to talk about… uh, things."

"Vague," he teased, "but okay."

"This whole thing, with the group dates and stuff… It's not really my bag."

"I might've picked up on that." He smiled. "Not big on social interaction?"

"It's never been a priority. I've got my friends and I never really saw the point in making more… Someone recently pointed out that I might've lucked out that way."

"How's that?"

"I found two awesome people when I was ten and we've been friends since. I didn't think I needed anybody else, so I've never really tried. Some people never find that." She shrugged. "Allison and I became friends because she ran my dog over. Danny and I met through tutoring. It all just kind of happened."

"That's how it is for some people."

"Yeah. And I'm not complaining. But, I'm still pretty happy with a small group of friends. So, parties and group dates, it's a little much."

"What about one on one dates?"

Chewing her lip, she said, "I like you. I know we have this running thing where you have to work at it, but I'm just going to put my cards on the table." Parked in her driveway now, she unplugged her seatbelt and shifted around to face him better. "You're nice and funny and really good looking. It's a little distracting, actually."

A slow grin pulled at his mouth, but his brows flicked up a moment later. "I feel like a 'but' is coming."

"But…" She shook her head. "I'm not interested in a serious relationship. I'm still getting over someone and I don't think it's fair to you or me if we jump into something."

"Okay…" He nodded slowly. "What about something that isn't serious?"

Her brows raised. "Like…?"

"Like, I like you, too. I think we have fun together. And if you just wanna be casual, I can do that. Hang out, make out, whatever you want." He shrugged. "Or we can be friends. Unless five is too many for you."

She rolled her eyes. "You think we can be friends and still make out?"

He rested an elbow on the door and propped his head on his hand, thumb pressed to an eyebrow. "I think it'll make us better friends."

A warm laugh left her. "Is this the part where we promise not to fall in love with each other?"

"Nah." He grinned. "Only people who end up falling do that…"

Malia chewed her lip. "If things were different, you'd be at the top of my list."

"Yeah?" He chuckled under his breath. "I can live with that."

"Good." She pushed forward then and leaned across the center console. Planting a hand on the door behind him, she dropped her head down, the tips of their noses brushing. "So, what was that about making out?"

His gaze focused on her lips for a beat and then slowly rose to meet hers. "I think I'm going to like this arrangement."

"Yeah?" She ducked down and let her mouth hover just short of his. "Me, too."

…

Malia was just walking up the porch, Cole's car taking off down the dirt road, when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Pulling it out, she smiled as she saw Stiles' face staring back. Answering it, she said, "Hey. I just got home. I was gonna Skype you."

"No time. Listen, Scott took off for Derek's. He said not to follow him, but I'm seriously regretting that…"

"What? Why?"

"I overheard my dad talking to one of his deputies. He left for the hospital because the bus driver succumbed to his injuries. Scott blames Derek. He's not really thinking straight and I'm a little worried he's going to do something."

Backing up down her driveway, Malia turned on her heel to face the forest. "How upset was he?"

"Pretty upset. I mean, he didn't wolf out or anything, but he skipped his bike and just ran toward the woods. That's not a good sign, right?"

Malia sighed. "I'm closer to the Hale house than you are, I'll cut through the woods. But… meet me there. Just in case."

"Got it. I'm on my way." She heard the whine of metal as he snapped his jeep door shut. "And hey…? Be careful all right. I don't know how smart getting in between a couple of werewolves is."

She nodded. "I'll be fine."

With that, she hung up, and started for the trees. It was dark, but she knew the paths pretty well and the light of the moon helped. She started off at a jog, not exactly dressed for a late-night run. But the farther she went, the more her anxiety ramped up. Malia wouldn't exactly call what she felt for Derek 'trust.' He was toning down some of his sketchier personality traits lately and she recognized that he was dealing with a serious problem. But she still felt like he was hoarding information and only doling it out as he saw fit. And then there was the chance that he was just telling her what she wanted to hear in order to control what happened. What she did know was that Scott was having trouble regulating his feelings lately. That he lashed out when he felt cornered or angry, and that Derek was not high on his list of people to turn to. He did so because he had to, because he'd been thrown into something he had no idea how to deal with. The recent attack on the bus driver was just one example of that, and he still wasn't convinced that Derek was an ally.

She wondered if her panic was more out of a fear that Scott was hurt or that he might hurt someone. If he wolfed out on the way to Derek's, he might not even make it there. In fact… He could just be running around the woods like last time. A cold sweat broke out across her skin. He'd controlled it, eventually, but for the time that he hadn't— that he couldn't— she'd felt the chilly realization that she could die. That her best friend could be the one to kill her. That the person she trusted most in the world didn't even recognize her.

It made her run faster.

Whether to get out of the woods, filled with unseen enemies and predators, or to reach the Hale house in order to keep Scott and Derek from tearing each other apart, she wasn't sure. Maybe it was both.

All she knew, was that her legs moved faster than they ever had before. Her arms pumped hard at her sides, hands balled up into fists, nails biting into her palms. Her lungs screamed for air; she sucked in quick bursts, but it did little to soothe her. She could hear rustling all around her; foliage and birds' wings and skittering feet. Or maybe it was her imagination. Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her. Trying to build on her fears of what could be out there. An out of control Scott? An alpha out for blood? Or something else. Something worse.

When the eerie outline of the Hale house came into view, she felt a stab of relief. Until she heard the crashing. Malia never slowed. She crossed the lawn in long strides, raced across the porch, and shoved through the front door of the house. Her feet stumbled as she came to a stop in the doorway to what might've once been the living room. There were holes in the wall, bits of splintered wood still dangling from it, as if they were newly made. Given the dusty, torn up look of the two men, she had a good idea why.

She was just in time to see Scott leap off a broken television set, only to have Derek slash him across the chest. Crying out in pain, Scott fell to the ground on his knees.

"What the hell are you doing?" Malia marched into the room, her brow knit. "Are you out of your minds?"

"Malia, get out of here!" Scott told her, an arm banded across his front as he crawled toward a dusty sofa.

"No." She glared at him and then turned on Derek. "What happened to asking for his help, huh?"

"You're the one that said he probably wouldn't go for it, since he wants so badly to be normal." Derek bared his teeth at her, his face transformed, making the bridge of his nose flatter, his cheek bones sharper, and his eyebrows furrier. "He came here looking for a fight!"

"So, what, you thought you'd give him one?" She scoffed. "You're supposed to be an adult, act like one."

Scott had pulled himself up onto the sofa and was leaning back against it, panting. "You shouldn't have come here."

"Neither should you!" She whirled on him. "Just because you're a werewolf doesn't mean that you should run off and face these things on your own. We're a team! Which means you bring Stiles or me or both of us. You don't just run into the woods and get into a fight with someone you know is a lot more in control than you are."

He glowered up at her. "He killed Mr. Meyers!"

"No, I didn't." Cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders, Derek returned to his wholly human figure. "Neither of us did."

Scott stared at him, confused. "What?"

"It's not your fault and it's not mine."

"This?" Scott's voice was hoarse with anger. He pushed up from the sofa and walked toward Derek, shouting in his face, "This is all your fault! You ruined my life!"

Derek snarled. "No, I didn't."

"You're the one who bit me."

"No, I'm not."

They were nearly chest to chest, both vibrating with anger, when Malia stepped between them, planted a hand on their chests, and shoved them apart. "Jesus, use your words. Scott, Derek didn't do this. There was someone else."

He squinted at her. "What?" He stumbled back from her then, his eyes darting around and his fingers carefully probing the bloody slash marks across his chest.

"Scott?" She walked toward him, reaching for his arm. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"I…" He stumbled.

"Whoa." Malia hooked an arm around his waist to keep him steady. "Hey, look at me."

Blinking quickly, he raised his chin and met her eyes. "There was another."

"What?"

"Another wolf, it was… I saw them. They attacked Mr. Meyers."

"The alpha." Derek crossed his arms over his chest and turned a look on Malia. "You didn't tell him?"

"I didn't have time. I can't exactly break into casual werewolf talk over bowling." She rolled her eyes. "I was going to fill him in tomorrow. You know, without an audience and so I didn't completely ruin his date."

Derek rolled his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Scott looked from her to Derek and back. "What happened?"

"I saw Derek earlier. He dropped by before Cole picked me up…" She focused on Scott. "The alpha is who bit you and who killed Derek's sister and, apparently, Mr. Meyers… And since he bit you, you're technically part of his pack."

"You and I, we're betas," Derek said. "The difference is, you're his. Which means that you can help me find him."

"How? And why? Why would I help you?"

"Scott…" Malia stared at him. "You came here because you thought Derek killed Meyers. You wanted to have him arrested for the body we found in the woods. Derek's not the killer, but this alpha is. Does that really change anything for you?"

He took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh, turning a hesitant look at Derek. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't." He frowned. "Just like I don't know if I can trust you."

Malia rolled her eyes. "All right, before you two get out measuring sticks… I already offered to help. If there really is some furry killer out there—"

"No. No way," Scott interrupted. "It's too dangerous."

"So?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "You think if I just sit it out, I'll get skipped over? If there's a killer loose that we can't even tell the police about, because seriously, who's even going to believe us? Then isn't it our responsibility to do something about it?" She looked between them. "I don't need fur and claws to decide this for me. I'll borrow Melissa's bat if I have to, but I'm in this fight."

Scott stared at her a long beat, before letting out a long-suffering sigh. "Of course you are." Frowning, he looked to Derek. "Fine. I… We will help you."

Derek nodded. "Good."

The door swung open then, banging against the wall, causing everyone to tense and flinch. But it was just an out of breath Stiles that stumbled into the room, eyes darting around frantically. "What'd I miss?"

Shaking her head fondly, Malia couldn't help but smile. "We'll fill you in on the ride home." She squeezed Scott's waist. "Come on. It's been a long night. We can talk alpha strategy tomorrow."

Scott hooked an arm around her shoulders and walked with her toward Stiles, glancing back at Derek over his shoulder.

"I'll find you," Derek said, answering an unasked question.

"Not ominous at all," Stiles muttered.

Together, the trio made their way outside, walking down the porch and across the yard to Stiles' jeep, parked strangely, with a groove in the ground from his skidded tires.

"I, uh, was a little worried I'd be walking into a blood bath…" He waved a hand. "Wasn't too worried about my park job."

As he circled around to the driver's seat, Malia helped Scott toward the other side. As she did, she caught sight of something in the woods. Turning her head, she stared at the trees. It almost looked like two bright, red eyes were staring back at her. An owl hooted in the distance before its flapping wings rustled the trees. She watched it take off, before looking back to where the eyes were, only to find them missing.

"What's wrong?" Scott's hand squeezed her shoulder. "You see something?"

"Hm? Uh, no. Just…" Malia shook her head. "Spooked, I guess."

"Did you run here?" His brow furrowed. "Through the woods?"

"Yeah, well, Stiles was a little worried you were fighting a werewolf without any back up… and he was right." She pulled the passenger door open for him. "Please don't make me lecture you about team work. I feel like I pulled a serious 'mom' back there and it's kind of making my stomach curdle."

Half-smiling, he nodded. "You were right— I wasn't thinking. I just reacted. And… it wasn't the most thought out plan."

"Does that mean in future you'll include us?" Stiles called from inside the jeep.

Scott looked back and forth between them. "Yeah. Yes. Or… I'll try, anyway." He climbed up into his seat then and Malia moved to the back, pausing once more to stare curiously at the trees. She couldn't see it, whatever it was, but she had the distinct feeling that she was being watched. Casting a quick look back at the Hale house, she finally pulled the door open and climbed into the jeep.

Putting it in drive, Stiles grinned at them. "So, all this werewolf stuff aside, how was the 'hangout?'"

Scott sighed. "I don't suck at bowling anymore, but I'm pretty sure that just made Jackson even more suspicious."

Stiles blinked at him. "I'm gonna need a lot more detail…"

As he started down the dirt road, Malia listened with half an ear as Scott detailed their group 'date,' but her thoughts were elsewhere. Come tomorrow, they would actively be working to track down a killer werewolf. These days, her life only got weirder.

tbc

author's note: sorry for the late-ish update. i usually aim for friday/saturday, but sunday was the best i could do. my graduation ceremony from university is this tuesday and i have family in town to celebrate, so i've been pretty distracted and busy. anyway, i hope you enjoyed this update! sorry i haven't had a chance to reply to everyone's reviews. i plan to get to them after i post this. i've just been busy with work and planning everything with family.

things to look forward to next chapter: plent of friendship, sex and boundaries talk, ice skating, a new face, lurky!derek, and scalia get deep. ;)

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