word count: 11,804
polyvore: username is 'sarcasticfina' - check under Collections for one named after this story to see all of Malia's fashion choices
episodes: 1x04 - magic bullet
XII
"Wait, so you're saying that you heard a gun go off and then you narrowed down where this thing was by its howl?" Stiles walked backwards down the hallway, looking back and forth between Scott and Malia. "And it was Argent's sister that shot it?"
"Yeah." Scott shrugged. "She called him her brother."
"Her name's Kate," Malia told them.
"Kate had an assault rifle. I don't know who she hit, but it was someone." Scott hooked his thumbs in the straps of his backpack and frowned grimly. "She said there were two."
A tiny well of worry formed in Malia's stomach. "Does that mean the other one was Derek or…?"
Scott shrugged. "I don't know. But she said they only had 48 hours, so…"
"So, we're definitely hoping it's the alpha, right?" Stiles' brow furrowed. "I mean, I'm not Derek's biggest fan, but the alpha is the bigger threat, at least so far."
"Yeah, of course." Malia bit her lip. "But, what if she didn't hit the alpha? What if she hit Derek and he's the one with the time limit? Shouldn't we do something?"
"How?" Scott wondered. "I mean, we could try to find him at this house, but… Would we even know what to do?"
"No, but he might."
"If he did, couldn't he just save himself?" Stiles scoffed. "Anyway, what do we owe him for? He still hasn't told Scott how to control the shift. He basically just told him to head back to the bus and hope he remembers something. And now he wants help finding this alpha. But, guys…" He took a quick look around before saying, a little quieter, "Shouldn't we be happy that the Argents are on this? I mean, maybe they take the alpha out and that's it. They stop looking for any more wolves."
"Except they know for sure that there's two." Malia shook her head. "Derek said they've been hunting werewolves since the beginning. They won't be satisfied until they wipe out every werewolf in Beacon Hills. If they know there's two, then two is what it'll take to get them to stop. And even then, we don't know that they won't keep looking until they find Scott, too."
"Okay, best case scenario… or worst, depending on who you are. They take out both the alpha and Derek and then they pack up and leave town. I mean, no offense buddy…" He reached out and patted Scott's chest. "I know you like Allison, but is she really worth your life?"
Malia scowled. "We're not going to let them kill Derek."
"Why not?" Stiles shrugged. "Two birds, two very efficient hunters."
Shaking her head, Malia said, "If Derek didn't turn Scott, then he's just been a sketchy guy that should've told us more about what was going on. That's not worth a death sentence."
"She's right." Scott sighed. "What do we do?"
The bell rang then, signalling the beginning of school.
"We go to class." Stiles' brows hiked. "We can drop by Derek's after or wait for him to appear creepily from the shadows, whichever comes first."
With a sigh, Malia nodded. "Deal."
As Stiles marched off to his locker, Scott lingered. He scuffed the floor with his shoe before eventually turning to face Malia. "So... are you mad?"
"That Stiles wants to kill Derek?" She rolled her eyes. "He doesn't mean it; he's just annoyed. He might not like him, but he'd still save his life if he had to."
"No, not that. I mean… I know I said that I'd talk to you before I ran headfirst into danger, but I wasn't even thinking. I was gonna go right back to sleep after I heard the gunshot. I wasn't even sure it was real. I thought maybe it was a nightmare or something. But, when I heard the howl, I had to go… I had to know."
"I get it. I don't know if I'm mad." Was she happy that he'd run off to face who knows what, only to stumble upon a hunter aiming specifically for werewolves? No, of course not. But she understood part of the motivation. "I probably wouldn't've been much help, since I was dead asleep when you heard it. But… I don't know. I don't like knowing you're running around without any back-up. I know me and Stiles are human, so we don't exactly have the ability to take on a werewolf or even a hunter, but... I just prefer knowing you have someone with you."
He nodded. "Next time, whatever it is, we go together."
A slow smile upturned her lips. "Let's hope it's not so late. I'm crabby when I don't get a full eight hours."
Scott laughed. "I know."
Scoffing, she knocked her arm against his and continued down the hall.
Grinning, Scott bumped her arm back.
Malia smothered a smile.
…
Malia had just pulled a snack from her bag and was closing her locker, when she startled at finding Cole standing on the other side. Rolling her eyes at herself— she never used to be this jumpy— she shook her head. "Hey."
"Hey." He smiled, resting a shoulder against a neighboring locker. A lock of hair fell into his eyes, which was strangely attractive, and Malia wondered if he kept it a little long for that exact reason. "I was gonna text you, but I saw you across the hall, so I figured face to face was probably better."
"You've been texting me all morning. I don't think I got anything done in math class." She shrugged. "Which I'm not even kind of disappointed about. In fact, thank you for distracting me. Sometimes I think my soul is being sucked out through my ears when I have to sit through a math lecture."
"Can't imagine Danny likes that. Doesn't he tutor you?"
"Yeah, but Danny's different."
Cole raised an eyebrow. "He makes math interesting?"
"No, he makes it understandable. I'm pretty sure Matthews is talking in tongues and I'm the only one that's noticed." She tipped her head. "So, what'd you want to talk to me about?"
"Definitely not math." His grin widened. "I was wondering what you were doing tonight."
"Tonight? Uh… I actually have plans with Scott and Stiles. They're feeling neglected, so we're going to hang out. And tomorrow I'm having dinner at Allison's. Her aunt just came into town, so she wants me to meet her." And Malia definitely wasn't skipping that meal, since apparently Kate Argent was just as much a hunter as her brother was. Which begged the question, how long until Allison was one, too? Was it a requirement that every member of a hunting family become a hunter? Or could Allison opt out if it just wasn't her thing? Did that mean she was going into the arms dealing business, too? Shaking herself out of that train of thought, she refocused on Cole. "What about Saturday night? I can pick up a movie and we can hang out."
"Yeah, sounds good." He smiled. "My place or yours?"
"Yours if it's free. I can't guarantee when my dad will be home." More, she couldn't guarantee her dad wouldn't show up unexpectedly, drunk and disapproving. It was hard to guess when Henry would be home or what kind of mood he would be in, which meant home could sometimes feel like a mine field. The last thing she wanted was for Cole to be around that.
"Okay. My place it is. I'll text you the address."
Malia nodded. "Great. I hope you like horror movies, because that's probably what I'm bringing over."
He leaned over, his voice dropping an octave. "Only if you promise to hold me when I get scared."
She laughed. "Sure."
…
"Ask me how my date went."
Malia looked up from the book open in her lap, one eye squinted against the sun, and found Danny standing in front of her. "Hey," she greeted, tucking the corner of her page down to mark it before she closed her book and put it aside. "How was your date?"
He took a seat in the grass across from her, crossing his legs and leaning back on his hands. With a wide grin, he said, "Amazing."
"Yeah?" Malia brightened, excited for him. "So, Adam's a keeper?"
"So far, yeah. He's funny and smart and..." He let out a wistful sigh. "A great kisser."
Malia wiggled her eyebrows. "On the first date? Scandalous."
He snorted a laugh. "We just clicked. I don't know how long it'll last, but I really like him."
"Cool. So, when's the second date?"
"We're going hiking this weekend. He says he knows a good route through the preserve." Danny's eyes lit up. "He even makes his own granola."
"A hike and granola. Yeah, he sounds like the guy for you. I bet he never misses a post-party run, too."
Danny grinned, showing off twin dimples in his cheeks. "I'll invite him to my next party and find out. If you come, you can meet him."
"Are you using your soon-to-be boyfriend as leverage to get me to go to another party?"
"Absolutely," he said without shame or hesitation.
Rolling her eyes, Malia shrugged. "All right. Well, depending on when it is and what's going on, I'll probably be there."
He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.
"Seriously. Unless there's some kind of crisis, I'll go."
"Does Scott McCall count as a 'crisis?'"
Malia looked away. "Depends on the day."
Danny searched her face and then leaned forward. He grabbed up a banana from her lunch and peeled it back. "How are things going with Cole?"
"Fine. Good. We're getting together this Saturday. Movie at his place."
He nodded. "And Scott?"
"Still happily dating Allison."
Danny bit off the end of the banana and chewed thoughtfully. "Did you do what I said?"
"What, tried to look at things like I wasn't involved?"
"Unbiased."
Shrugging, Malia picked the crusts off her sandwich. "I've been a little busy."
"Maybe." He stared at her a beat. "Or you're scared."
Her brow furrowed and she looked up at him, frowning. "Of what?"
"The truth."
Malia felt a wave of irritation flow threw her at the nonchalant way Danny was talking about her and Scott. As if he had all the answers and she was just being willfully ignorant. "Which is?"
"You remember when you told me that all the anticipation around Adam was freaking me out? That there was so much build up to it that I was worried he'd fall short or something...? Maybe you find out Scott feels the same way and you run into the same problem. Maybe, in your head, you guys make sense, but you're worried that if you ever gave it a real try, it wouldn't work out, which puts the friendship at risk."
"I haven't built up some fantasy of Scott in my head. I know exactly who he is." She shook her head. "The problem isn't that he can't live up to expectation, it's that I can't." She frowned at the ground, glaring at nothing in particular. "Forgetting for a second that I don't think he feels that way about me... I'm not the kind of person that works with someone like Scott."
"Why?"
"Because I... I'm too rough. I'm like sandpaper and he's, I don't know, velvet or something. Those things don't mix." She sighed. "I push people away. I don't pull them closer. He doesn't deserve that. He deserves someone like Allison. She's nice and friendly and—"
"Hey," he interrupted. Suddenly, Danny wasn't siting across from her, but right next to her, shoulder pressed warm against her own.
Malia looked up, angry that she could feel her chin wobbling. "I look at my dad and he can be right there in front of me, physically, but I know that he's somewhere else. It's like he's stuck in his head, in the past, and I can't bring him back. I can't make him stay here, in the present. I can't make him see me. And I know he's hurting. I know he misses them. But I miss them, too. I miss them every day. But I get up and I live my life and I try to be the kind of person they'd want me to be, but I think I'm failing."
"Malia..."
"My mom was so good. She was so full of love and I wish I could be more like her. She was so free and happy and she never apologized for it. And I wonder sometimes, who I'd be if I didn't lose her. Maybe I'd be more open or nicer or something, I don't know." She shook her head. "But I'm not. I'm scared and angry and I keep people at a distance because I hate the idea that I might lose them, too. So no, I'm not scared that Scott won't be exactly who I think he is. I'm scared that even if he could love me, he wouldn't want to. And that is so... pathetic." Tears clouded her eyes. "And now I'm crying on you and you just wanted to tell me about Adam, who sounds awesome, and I really am happy for you, I swear. I just—" Malia's words, whatever they might have been, were muffled by Danny's shoulder as he pulled her into a hug.
His hand cupped the back of her head and his arm banded around her, warm and snug. "It's okay."
Malia's face crumbled and she leaned into him, closing her eyes against the sting of tears and hooking an arm around his waist.
They sat like that for a while, until Malia felt a little steadier, and entirely embarrassed by her outburst. Leaning back, she sniffled, swiping at her eyes and shaking her head. "I'm not usually this emotional."
"Guess I hit a nerve." He left his arm around her shoulders and leaned back against the tree. "Look, I'm going to say something and you're probably not going to agree with it, but I want you to hear it."
Rubbing at her still runny nose, she nodded, not yet ready to look up at him. "Okay."
"I think you've got this idea in your head that you're this cold, mean person and... you're wrong. You're a little standoffish, sure. And it takes some effort to earn your friendship. But, when you do let people in, you champion them. You're tough, but there are different ways to be that. You stand up for people you care about and I have a feeling you'd go to bat for just about anybody if you thought they needed it." He rubbed her shoulder. "It's okay to be scared. We all are."
She looked up at him then, unsure and a little surprised.
"Yeah, even me." He half-smiled. "Look, I don't know how Scott feels. I can't speak for him. But, I know you. And someone is going to going to love you, prickly personality and all. That's one thing you really don't have to worry about."
Slowly, a smile pulled up one corner of her mouth. "This might be the only time in my life that I appreciate 'math' for something."
He laughed, his head falling back. "You wanna calculate the odds of us becoming friends without it?"
She wrinkled her nose. "No. Not even kind of."
Still chuckling, he squeezed her and dropped his head down to rest against hers. "Done crying?"
"Mostly, yeah." She sniffled. "Can we never talk about this little freak out, like, ever?"
"Or..." He leaned back to see her better. "You forgive yourself for breaking down sometimes."
Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. "I don't like how I feel after. All gross and empty and damp."
He grinned. "Crying does that."
"I know. I hate it." Reaching up, she rubbed her hands over her cheeks and groaned. "What were we talking about before this?"
"Uh... homemade granola?"
She snorted. "Have you ever tried it?"
"No, but I bet it's great."
"I'm expecting you to text me some cheesy picture of you two standing on the cliff, sun setting behind you."
Danny nodded. "I can make that happen."
Feeling a little better about things, Malia slumped back against the tree and picked up her sandwich. "This emotional junk is exhausting."
"If you wanna take a nap, I'll wake you up before the bell rings."
She looked up at him, her brows hiked. "All seriousness, forget Scott, I love you now."
Amused, he rolled his eyes and gave her a little shove. "Whatever. You're too late. I have Adam."
"I'll fight him for you. I've never met him, but I think I can probably take him."
Shaking his head, he laughed. "I'll let him know."
…
After school, Malia sat atop the benches overlooking the lacrosse field with Allison. The boys were currently distracted with practice, leaving them to talk alone.
Allison sat backwards on the bench one below Malia's so they could face each other. "So, is Saturday a date or…?" Her brow furrowed. "I mean, you and Cole agreed you weren't really together together, right?"
Malia nodded, chewing on a bite of her apple. "Yeah. We're people with benefits."
Allison's mouth twitched. "Okay… Then, hanging out is code for…?"
"Making out with a movie playing in the background." She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we'll talk about it when I'm there. Danny said we should probably talk boundaries anyway. Find out what we're expecting or what we want, that kind of thing."
Nodding, Allison pulled her hair up and tied it in a knot. "Which would be?"
"Fun. I like making out with him, but I don't know if I want it to be anything more than that. Not right now, anyway. We'll see how long it lasts."
"And you think that's okay? Like, he'll be open to that?"
"We didn't make any promises to each other. And I can always say 'no.' If he wants more than that, then I guess we cut it short." She shrugged. "It's not that big a deal."
"Yeah, of course." Allison's brow furrowed. "It's just…"
Malia stared at her curiously. "What's up?"
"Nothing. It's just something Lydia said to me, it's stuck in my head."
"What'd she say?"
"It's dumb." She smiled awkwardly. "And I feel dumb for getting stuck on it."
Malia kicked a foot out and knocked it against Allison's ankle. "Spit it out."
"All right. So, I mentioned that me and Scott are getting together tomorrow. He's supposed to come over after school and we were going to study before dinner. By the way, I already told my dad that you were coming over. Anyway, when I mentioned it to Lydia, she said it's never just studying. That it was like getting into a hot tub, eventually someone cops a feel." She rolled her eyes. "And I'm not… against that, exactly. I mean, we've kissed and it was great. Making out is the next logical step, right? But… I don't know, it's the way Lydia said it, like she expected it to be more than that and… We've only really had one date. One and a half if you include the party, which I don't, not really. So, I guess I'm just freaking out a little bit. Like, are we supposed to be doing that or is he expecting that or…?" She flushed pink. "And now I've just word-vomited all of my insecurity on his best friend. I'm sorry! You probably don't want to hear about this kind of stuff."
"It's fine." Malia waved a hand dismissively. "Look, ignore Lydia. You can't compare yourself or your experiences or what she does to what you're ready to do. I mean, she picked Jackson for a partner..."
Allison snorted.
"Only do what you're ready to do. And talk to Scott about what that is. Trust me, he's going to be happy with anything. He really likes you and you're pretty much his first girlfriend, so I don't think he has any expectations. At this point, he's just guessing."
A slow grin formed on Allison's mouth. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
Letting out a relieved breath, Allison's shoulders relaxed. "I'm so glad we're friends. I really like Lydia, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I feel like she's in college and I'm in kindergarten."
"She has that effect." Malia shifted back on the bench and brought her legs up, crossing them beneath her. "When we were little, Lydia was the smartest girl in class. Don't get me wrong, she still is, but back then, she owned it. She corrected teachers, other students, pretty much every person she ever met. At heart, Lydia is that nerd you see in movies that wears pocket protectors and plaid and has a retainer, except her inner-nerd never had a chance to show, because it and the fashionista inside her duked it out and fashion won. Anyway, at some point, somebody must've told her boys don't find brains cute, because she started pretending she wasn't. She still makes the grades, she just doesn't flaunt it like she used to. And somehow, most of our class forgot that Lydia's a walking brain."
"That's…" Allison's brow wrinkled, "sad."
Malia nodded. Yeah, it was. But like with all things, Lydia made it work for her. And Malia imagined that, eventually, she would tire of hiding her true self and let her nerd flag fly. She looked forward to seeing it happen.
…
By the time lacrosse practice ended, Allison had already taken off for an impromptu shopping session with Kate. Malia straddled a cement block as she waited for the boys to emerge from the school, hopefully smelling better than what they had when they'd finished practice. Stiles was the first one out, walking at a fast clip, his bag hooked over one shoulder and his lacrosse stick in hand. "You seriously want to go to Derek's?"
"You said we would." Scott shrugged. "Shouldn't we? I mean, if Derek is the one they shot..."
"You'll what? Perform werewolf CPR on him?" Stiles shook his head. "We're not equipped to handle bullet wounds."
Hopping off the block, Malia walked over to them. "We weren't equipped for werewolves either, but we're doing pretty okay, all things considered."
Scott grimaced. "I almost mauled you in a forest."
"'Almost' being the key word there." Malia shrugged and popped a Hot Tamale in her mouth. "Anyway, we said we'd check in on Derek and we're going to. If he's not shot, then we can ask him how he expects us to find this alpha. And if he is then... I don't know. I'll YouTube a tutorial on bullet removal."
Stiles stared at her through squinted eyes. "Sometimes you truly frighten me."
Scott's brow was furrowed. "You think they really have a tutorial for that?"
"Probably." She held the candy box out to him and shook it.
Scott held a cupped hand out for her to pour a few into his palm. "Let's say it isn't Derek or the alpha... What do we do if there's somebody else running around out there with a bullet wound?"
"Someone else like who?" Stiles wondered, holding his own hand out for candy and glaring at Malia when she only dropped a single tamale in his hand.
Chuckling to herself, she poured a few more. "Maybe there's a Scott 2.0 out there."
Both boys turned to stare at her blankly.
Malia rolled her eyes. "Another random high schooler this alpha took on as his beta, biting them specifically for the power. Maybe Kate was aiming for the alpha and caught the beta instead."
"What, like the beta kamikaze'd in front of the bullet?" Stiles snorted. "Seriously?"
"Maybe. Derek said there was a weird sort of loyalty that comes with being pack." Malia shrugged. "Or maybe he was just easier to shoot. I don't know."
"Maybe." Scott frowned. "Either way, we need to find out who it is. Starting with Derek."
...
No matter how many times Malia visited the Hale House, she couldn't help the shock of discomfort that ran parallel to her spine. The hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end, her stomach curdled, and her chest tightened, like a slowly squeezing vice against her lungs. She wondered if it was the idea of what happened, the knowledge that a family had burned alive inside, that claimed the house with all its ghosts. Or maybe it was her own pain, a reminder of what she had lost, that made the house seem especially eerie.
"So, do you wanna knock or...?" Stiles leaned back against the front of the jeep, hands tucked in the pockets of his hoodie. "If we had a phone number, we could just text him. A quick 'hey, you been shot lately?' would do it."
Malia rolled her eyes. "I'll be sure to mention that." She started across the lawn, patchy with dirt and grass, and climbed the stairs to the porch. She imagined, in its glory, the house would have been something worth looking at. Nowadays, it was hard to see.
Scott was just behind her, she could feel his nervous energy on her back.
"We're just going to check in on him. If we're lucky, he's fine and it was the alpha that was hit."
"And if we're not lucky?"
She sighed. "Then I guess we figure out how to treat a bullet wound."
"I'll Google it now, save us some time." Stiles dug his phone out. When he looked up to find them staring at him, he said, "Trust me, this isn't even close to the weirdest thing I've Googled."
Malia pulled a face. "I'm not going to ask."
"What? No, not that." Stiles rolled his eyes. "Get your head out of the gutter, geez."
"Uh-huh." Malia turned back to the door and raised a fist to knock. As she did, the door opened. Not from anyone opening it, but because it wasn't quite closed.
"That's not creepy…" Stiles muttered.
Taking a deep breath, Malia stepped inside. She looked left and right to find the inside was still just as burnt out and dilapidated as it had been when she'd interrupted the fight between Derek and Scott. Which reminded her— Malia looked back at Scott. "Do you hear anything?"
He followed her in and tipped his head, seeming to stretch his hearing. Finally, he said, "No. Just your heartbeats."
"Is mine beating as fast as it feels?" Stiles frowned. "Because I think wandering around this burned out carcass is a terrible idea."
Scott nodded. "But we should look, right? Just because she said it could take 48 hours doesn't mean it did..."
Malia pursed her lips. Somewhere in the house could be a dead body. Derek Hale's dead body to be precise. Malia would be the first to admit the guy had a sketchy history with them and could be incredibly frustrating. But... All things considered, she wouldn't wish death on him. If she really thought about it, it made sense for him to be as distant as he was. After all, he'd lost his family, too. She knew firsthand what that could do to a person. "I'll check upstairs, you guys look around down here."
Just as Malia reached the foot of the stairs, a hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her back a step. When she turned around, Scott was staring at her worriedly. "Be careful."
"I know. This house is a giant hazard."
"Not just that... Derek's not my favorite person, but I know you two get along okay. If he is in here and he was the one that was shot..." He searched her face. "You shouldn't have to see that if he's..."
"Dead?" Her brows arched. "Let's just hope he isn't. Because favorite or not, we need him. For information if nothing else."
"He hasn't exactly been great at sharing it so far," Stiles pointed out.
Malia rolled her eyes. "Will you just look around, please?" She turned back to the stairs then and felt Scott's hand slowly slip away. Swallowing tightly, she started the climb. The stairs were surprisingly sturdy; enough that she wondered if Derek had done anything to make them that way. After all, he was basically living out here, wasn't he? Which was sad and morbid in its own right. She had trouble driving past where her mom and sister had died. Her heartbeat always ratcheted up, her palms sweated, and her stomach twisted itself into knots. Stiles made a point of avoiding it whenever possible. Actively spending any time there was not something she ever planned to do. But Derek chose to immerse himself in the pain and loss of his family, living right alongside their ghosts.
When she reached the top of the stairs, she surveyed both directions, eventually making her way down the right side, where a number of doors could be seen. Did Derek stay in his old bedroom? she wondered. Or did he sleep below on the dusty, time-worn couches? Maybe he stayed in his mother's room. With his extra sensitive senses, he might even catch the lingering scent of her still clinging to clothes and linens. Back home, Malia had a perfume bottle of her mother's. She never used it, but sometimes she'd take the cap off and just breathe in that old scent and be swept away by it. Two dabs to her neck and one to her wrist, that was what her mother did. When Malia would linger at the vanity, watching her get ready, Evelyn would reach out and put a little dab on Malia's wrist and have her rub them together. She always felt so pretty and mature when her mom did that.
Malia felt a sting in her eyes that she blinked away quickly. She thought of her mother often, but there were some things, some memories, that hurt more than others. Knowing her mother had never seen her grow up, that she wouldn't see who she would become, was something that Malia carried on her shoulders. There were days when it hit her particularly hard and she would try to imagine what life might be like if her mom and Kylie had lived. What would Kylie look like now? How much would her personality have changed and grown? Would Malia and her mom still dance around the kitchen, singing into spatulas as they made breakfast? Would she have joined her mother at her vanity one day and ask her to teach her how to do her make up? Would her mom have taken her out to find a special perfume all her own? The loss of the unknown would always haunt her.
Shaking it off, or trying to at least, Malia checked the doors at the end of the hall. Aside from a single bathroom, the rest were bedrooms. One was missing a wall, lost to the fire of long ago. Each of them were missing furniture, collecting dust and cobwebs, the walls blackened and peeling, the windows broken. They echoed with a lack of people, love, and attention. They were shells.
Making her way to the other end of the hall, she found a staircase that led higher into the house. An attic room with a steepled window. The roof was slanted and a lack of light made the room much darker than the others. There was furniture— an iron bedframe with a thin mattress and a patchy blanket. A few pieces of luggage, one of which was open, revealing dark shirts and jeans. This was where Derek stayed, she realized.
She walked deeper into the room. Dust still littered the air. A white sheet was strung over a tall dresser. A battery-operated lamp sat atop a bedside table, a small sheet puddled on the floor next to it. Either Derek was a fan of minimalism or his worldly possessions amounted to a chipped ornament and a single photograph. The ornament sat on the very corner of the picture, an attempt to keep it in place, she imagined, since it was absent a frame. The ornament was old, the paint long faded, but it vaguely resembled a lumpy looking dog. Maybe it was one of his siblings. The only token he could find in an otherwise fire-eaten house. When she attempted to put it down, something spilled out of the top and across her fingers. It was brown and grainy, like pepper.
Dusting her fingers off on her jeans, she picked up the picture next. It wasn't in good shape; the edges were frayed and thin lines showed where it had been folded time and again. A keepsake he clearly kept close to him and looked at often. It was a family picture, taken from the front yard. The Hales were on the porch; seated on the steps and standing at the back from shortest to tallest. And there was Derek in the middle, he couldn't be more than seventeen. He had an arm around two girls, both bearing a striking enough resemblance to each other that Malia assumed they were twins. A step lower were another two girls and a boy. The girls were leaning into each other, shoulder to shoulder, showing off bright smiles, while the boy was half-grinning, arms resting atop his knees. At the back were who she assumed were Derek's parents. A young man and woman stood on either side of them— college-age, she'd guess. And finally, a lone man stood next to the stairs, leaned back against a pillar, a smirk upturning his mouth and his arms crossed loose over his chest.
Malia stared at it a long moment before eventually trying her luck and flipping the picture over. There was writing on the back, listing each person in descending order—
Laura, Mom, Dad, Ben
Adrianne, Derek, Gabriela
Lucas, Val, Cora
Just to right of them, center mass, was— Peter
According to an old newspaper article she was able to dig up online, 8 people died that night. The only survivors were Laura, Derek, and Peter. And it would seem now that the only two remaining were Derek and Peter. That was, at least, if Derek was still alive.
"Hey."
Malia startled and turned around abruptly, her heart pounding. She let out a relieved sigh when she found Scott staring back at her.
"What's that?"
She looked down at the picture. "Uh, nothing." She waved her free hand. "I think this is where he's been staying. It's not as dusty and it looks lived in. Plus, there's a suitcase with more dark clothes than any one person needs."
Nodding, Scott stepped further into the room, casting a curious eye around. "We didn't find anything. Stiles wanted to try the basement but the stairs were destroyed in the fire. Only way in is through a hole in the floor." He shook his head. "I can't smell anything bad... I think I'd smell it if there was a decomposing body somewhere around here."
Malia frowned. "So, maybe it wasn't him then. Maybe he's okay."
Tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he shrugged. "Maybe."
She wasn't sure why, but she was hesitant to put the picture down. There was something about looking back in history, to a time when things were normal and a family was at peace, that was especially unnerving knowing what became of them. "Did you know Derek had five sisters?"
Scott shook his head.
"Laura, Adrianne, Gabriela, Val and Cora." She stared at the photo. "When I lost my mom and Kylie, I blamed myself. I was a kid and I thought... maybe because I told them to die, the universe made it happen. I never told my dad because I thought he'd hate me. Then I'd lose him, too." A lump formed in her throat. "I know Derek's been obnoxiously tight-lipped about what's going on, but... He came back here for his sister. Laura was just about the only family he had left and now she's gone, too." She chewed the inside of her cheek. "I like Allison. I think she's an awesome person and a great friend. But her dad and her aunt are killers. They hunt people like you and Derek down. I want this alpha stopped, I really do, but we can't lose sight of the fact that the alpha isn't our only enemy."
"You're right. It isn't." Scott stared at her. "Look, I feel bad for Derek. And as much as I hate that he won't just tell me what I need to know about all this werewolf stuff, I don't want him to die. If he was shot, we'll do what we can to help him. And if he wasn't and the alpha issue is solved then... I don't know. I don't know how we deal with hunters. I'm making a lot of this stuff up as I go along because I really don't know what or who to expect anymore."
Malia nodded. "I know. And I'm not telling you that you can't be with Allison or even that you shouldn't. I just really want you to be careful. Because every second you spend near her dad or her aunt is just one more second they use to decide if you're a threat or not. And I don't think they're going to take a survey to find out what kind of person you really are."
Crossing the space between them, Scott reached for her. His fingers were warm against her wrist. As gentle as his touch was, she felt rooted by him, planted firmly on the ground, despite the fact that the Hale house probably deserved to be condemned. "Whatever happens, I just want us to be okay."
"We are." Malia met his eyes. "You know, maybe Stiles was right. Derek will appear when he wants to. If he is hurt and he needs our help, he'll find us. Until then, maybe all we can do is wait. All we really know is that Kate shot someone last night, but we have no idea who and we aren't going to know until either Derek tells us or Stiles' dad finds a body."
"So, let's hope for the best. We'll deal with the hunter thing as we go along." He shrugged. "Maybe the Argents are different. Maybe they do follow the code Derek mentioned."
Malia frowned. She wasn't so sure about that. Chris Argent might seem friendly and affable on the outside, but there was something about him that raised her alarms.
"There you two are!" Stiles marched into the room. "Are we going to spend all afternoon in this place? He's not here. Chances are, he's lurking in the shadows at some other poor sap's place. Probably terrorizing children and stalking innocent victims."
Shaking her head, Malia sent him a look before putting the family picture back on the bedside table. "Come on. We said we were going to hang out tonight, right? Pizza and a movie?"
Scott lit up. "Yeah, yes." He nodded. "My place? My mom's not going to be home for a bit."
"Works for me," Stiles agreed.
Together, the three of them made their way to the door with Malia taking up the rear. She paused, casting a look back into the dark room. There was an emptiness to it all that was hard to miss. In this giant house, there was one room and one person that occupied it, and even it seemed clouded with the shadows of the past. For the first time, she reconsidered the idea that Derek was angry, and wondered if maybe he was just incredibly lonely.
"Lia?"
She turned to find Scott and Stiles waiting for her.
"You okay?" Stiles wondered, his brow furrowed.
"Yeah." She nodded. "Just being weirdly introspective today. It's fine." She met them in the hall, pulling the door closed behind her. As they walked ahead, bickering about what movie to watch, she followed, smiling to herself. The one thing Malia could definitely say was that she didn't feel lonely. Scott and Stiles never let her.
...
That evening, Malia found herself seated atop a counter in the McCall kitchen, willing the pizza in the oven to bake faster.
"I'm pretty sure watching the time actually slows it down." Scott leaned against the kitchen island across from her, arms crossed loosely. "Stiles is still trying to pick a movie. He thinks we have enough time for a Star Wars marathon. When I reminded him that we have school tomorrow, he said it'd be worth it."
Malia rolled her eyes. "I'm not watching Star Wars."
"I heard that!" Stiles shouted from the living room.
"Then I don't have to repeat myself."
"What did I ever do to deserve such ungrateful friends? I try to bring you into the amazing cinematic world of George Lucas and you have no appreciation!"
"Anyway..." Malia turned back to Scott. "Excited about your study session tomorrow?"
Scott half-smiled, half-grimaced. "I kind of overheard you and Allison talking about it earlier... I didn't mean to, but sometimes I just can't shut it off." He motioned to his ears. "Do you think she feels pressured? Should I say something?"
She shrugged. "I mean, talking never hurt anybody."
He nodded.
A beat passed before he eventually wondered, "What you said, about how Danny told you to talk to Cole about boundaries and expectations and stuff, do you think you will?"
"Yeah, probably. I know Stiles is worried because Cole's a little older and I guess he thinks he'll pressure me into something I'm not ready for, but..."
"Are you?" Scott stared at her. "I mean, do you think you're ready for..."
"Sex?" She raised an eyebrow, her mouth turning up slowly. "Are you?"
He swallowed tightly, his throat bobbing. "I don't know. I mean... Maybe... Kind of?"
She tipped her head. "If it's not a firm yes, I wouldn't go for it. There's no time limit to when you have to have sex."
He grimaced. "You don't spend as much time in the boys' locker room as I do."
"Whatever. Half those guys are probably lying." She rolled her eyes. "Look, when it's right, it's right. Considering Allison sounds unsure too, I don't think you have to start shopping for condoms just yet."
His cheeks flared a telling red. "I know. I just... I don't know. It feels weird to talk about it. Like I'm just supposed to know or something."
"Talk to her. Ask her questions. Ask her what she's ready to do and what she isn't." Malia shrugged. "There's lots of stuff you can do that isn't sex that's still fun."
"Yeah." He paused. "Have... I mean, have you done those things with Cole?"
"We've kissed. A lot. And hands wander sometimes. But we've only really hung out twice and the second time was in his car, which doesn't leave a whole lot of space for things..."
He nodded jerkily. "Yeah, sure."
"I mean, I guess we'll talk about it on Saturday."
He hummed, his brow furrowed. "Do you think you will? I mean, do you think he's the person that you want to... for the first time?"
Malia drummed her hands against her knees. "I don't think there's anything wrong with having sex with people you're not in love with. As long as everybody wants to and they're ready, I say go for it. But... I don't know. Danny has this metaphor about training wheels. Like, you can be with someone and you can explore things with them, but it's all just sort of practice. And when you're ready, you take the training wheels off. Maybe with Cole it's just exploration and figuring out what I like and don't like. Maybe I have sex with him or maybe I don't. Maybe I meet someone else and fall in love and sex is just the next natural step. I don't think I can really say for sure either way until it's happening."
Scott nodded, staring at the floor for a long moment. "You really like him though, right? I mean... You're happy?"
"I like hanging out with him. He's nice and smart and we have fun together." She searched his face. "What about you and Allison?"
He looked up. "Huh?"
"You're happy with Allison?"
"Yeah, I mean..." He licked his lips and sighed. "It's complicated. With all the hunter stuff and the werewolf stuff and... But she's really nice and I like talking to her."
"Good." Malia dug her fingers into her knees. "She really likes you, too."
Before Scott could say anything, the alarm on the oven blared, letting them know the pizza should be done.
Pushing off the island counter, Scott walked to the oven, using a mitt to pull out the pan.
Stiles skidded into the kitchen then. "Okay, I've narrowed it down to three. All classics— Alien, can't go wrong, Scream, 90's horror at its best, or, and I think Scott will like this... An American Werewolf in London."
"Ba-dum-tss," Malia said flatly.
Grinning, Stiles took a bow. "Thank you."
"Wait, we have that movie?" Scott asked, pulling out plates.
"Oddly, yes. I guess your mom bought it." He clapped his hands together. "Ideas?"
"Why'd you pick all horror?" Malia wondered. She wasn't complaining exactly, it was one of her favorite genres, but usually Stiles stuck to fantasy or sci-fi.
"Alien is not a horror movie."
"It's totally a sci-fi horror. It literally bursts out of that one guy's chest. That's a total horror move."
Stiles pointed at her, brows raised. "Or is it a sci-fi thriller move?"
Malia rolled her eyes. "Scott, tell Stiles he's wrong."
Scott didn't even look up from where he was cutting the pizza into slices. "Stiles, you're wrong."
"What? That's not even fair. He probably hasn't seen it."
Malia shrugged, grinning. "Two to one, I win."
"You always win because Scott always agrees with you."
"Not always," she argued. "Just most of the time."
"Oh, right, because that's so much better." Stiles rolled his eyes. "Which one are we watching?"
Scott pulled a face. "Not Werewolf in London."
"Okay, down to two." Stiles rubbed his hands together. "Malia?"
"Scream is too close to home with its serial killer plot. At least with Alien everything's happening in space."
"So... Alien, then?" Stiles looked from her to Scott, who nodded. "Cool." He turned on his heel and made his way back to the living room to set the movie up.
Malia watched him go before turning to Scott, who was eating a stray piece of pepperoni, strings of cheese hanging off his chin.
Rolling her eyes, she said, "Hey."
When he turned to look at her, she reached out and pulled the cheese off him, dangling it for him to see.
Scott ate it right out of her fingers and huffed a laugh.
"Dork," she muttered, giving his shoulder a shove.
Smiling, he dished out a few slices of pizza onto a plate and handed it to her. "Here. I'll grab mine and Stiles."
Hopping off the counter, she accepted the plate and moved to the fridge. "What do you want to drink?"
"What've we got?"
"Root-beer, Coke, and... some weird, fizzy grapefruit looking stuff."
"Coke's fine."
Grabbing out two cans of Coke for the boys and a Root-beer for herself, Malia carried it all into the living room.
Stiles was on his favorite arm chair, fiddling around with the remote to skip past previews and get straight to the movie. She put his Coke on the corner of the table closest to him and took a seat on the couch.
Scott appeared shortly after, handing Stiles his pizza before taking a seat next to Malia, accepting the Coke she handed him. "Stiles, didn't you used to have a crush on someone in this?"
Stiles sat up and shot him a look. "Ripley is a badass! It's weird if you don't have a crush on her."
Scott held a hand up in surrender and sunk back against the couch, pizza cradled in his lap. "All right, fine."
Malia hid a grin as she took a bite of pizza. This was nice, she thought. It felt good to just have a night with the three of them. She was still worried about Derek, but she had a feeling he'd find them if he needed their help. So, she resolved to enjoy herself with her two favorite people and some cheap but still good pizza. "Needs more sauce," she muttered.
Scott smiled. "You say that about every pizza you've ever eaten."
"And I will continue to until my sauce needs are filled."
He snorted.
"It's starting," Stiles said, sitting forward eagerly.
Malia muffled her amusement and turned her attention to the TV ahead.
…
After Alien finished, they ended up watching Scream, too. Halfway through the movie however, both Scott and Stiles had passed out. Leaving Malia the sole person awake, eating a bowl of popcorn, her feet in Scott's lap while she sprawled out on the couch. Hearing a key in the lock, she sat up, and smiled knowingly as Melissa walked inside, still dressed in her scrubs.
Melissa took one fond look at the boys and then grinned at Malia. "Tough night?"
"Eating pizza really takes it out of them." She held the popcorn bowl out. "Hungry?"
Melissa scooped out a handful. "Starving. Is there any pizza left?"
"Nope. But Scott picked up a few groceries, including everything you need for a sandwich. I can make you one."
"That would be amazing." Shrugging her coat off, Melissa sighed. "I'm going to take a quick shower."
"Sure." Climbing off the couch, Malia made her way to the kitchen while Melissa climbed the stairs to the second floor.
It didn't take long for Malia to put a sandwich together. She dug around in the fridge to see if there was anything else to add to it, finding some very overdue potato salad in the process, and eventually settled on carrots and celery with ranch dip. She poured a glass of milk and brought it all over to the kitchen table before grabbing a couple paper towels for napkins.
When Melissa reappeared, she looked a little more relaxed. Her hair was damp and dripping and she was wearing her comfiest plaid pajamas and a pair of slippers as she plopped down in a seat at the table, patting the top to invite Malia to join her.
Pulling out a chair, Malia rested her arms on the table. "How was work?"
"Mmph." Melissa turned her eyes upward. "Long." Picking up one half of the sandwich, she sighed. "Concussions, a broken leg, food poisoning, and one guy who somehow put a nail straight through three of his fingers but all he would talk about was persistent knee pain. Like he didn't have a very serious hand wound."
Malia shook her head. "Your job is weird."
"Oh, I know. But, it pays the bills and I'm never short on clients." She took a bite of her sandwich and asked, "How about you? How was your day?"
"In comparison, really easy." Leaning back in her chair, Malia tapped her fingers against the table as a thought bubbled to the front of her mind. "Hey, do you think kids are inherently like their parents? Like, are they just kind of destined to turn out the same?"
Melissa stared at her a beat and then seemed to sit up a little straighter. "Is this about Henry? Has he been drinking again?"
Malia felt her whole body tense for a moment. "No, not him. I was just thinking... I mean, Scott, he's always wanted to be like you. You're basically his hero. So, becoming a vet was sort of a no brainer for him. And Stiles, he's following right behind his dad. Sure, the FBI isn't quite the same as the local Sheriff's office, but it's in the same stream. Anyway, I have this friend and her family is into some pretty hardcore stuff. But she's not really like that. She's... nice and kind and... I don't know. I can't imagine her turning out like them."
Melissa hummed thoughtfully. "Well, we're not all just one thing. People who are kind aren't always going to be that way. Situations and circumstances and people can change that. I don't think anyone's guaranteed to be one thing or the other. We all have choices. If we drift closer to a job or a characteristic that we see in a parent, it could be because we admire that in them and not that we've inherited the same drive for it. We're all shaped by the people around us and we make decisions about what we like or don't like based on what we see and how we feel. Scott is a good person that wants to help others, especially animals. So is Stiles, but his idea of 'help' is different."
"Yeah. That makes sense."
Finished one half of her sandwich, Melissa dusted her hands off and reached out to cover one of Malia's. "I know you don't like to talk about it... But when you were twelve and your dad was struggling, I made you a promise. If things ever got really bad, if you ever felt like you weren't safe or you needed somewhere to go... my door is always open. I know that Henry is a good person and that he wants the best for you. But I also know that grief can be debilitating and that addictions, if not treated, can destroy lives. And not just the addict's." She shook her head. "It's a disease and he needs help, but until he's ready to get that help, I need you to be safe."
"I know. I am. Really." Malia half-smiled. "He's been trying lately. He talks to me more and he asks questions and... I don't know where it's going, but I hope it's somewhere."
"Okay." Melissa nodded. "But just so we're clear..."
"I'll come to you. I promise."
"Good." Returning to her food, Melissa said, "How's school been? There's a parent-teacher thing next week, isn't there?"
Malia groaned dramatically. "Don't remind me."
"Other than math, how are the rest of your grades?"
Strangely, her grades were actually pretty steady, and even math had come easier since Danny had begun tutoring her. She wouldn't call herself 'good' at it, exactly, but she was better than she had been. "All right."
"Yeah? Will Henry be at the meeting?"
"Probably, yeah." She shrugged. "I'll mention it to him tomorrow."
"Are you staying here tonight?"
Checking the time, Malia shook her head. "No. We've got school tomorrow. I should probably wake Stiles up, actually."
"Are you sure? After Scott goes to bed, the couch is open."
"No, it's fine. I've got Shiloh. She'll need to go out and I don't know if dad's fed her today."
"All right."
Malia pushed back from the table then. Before leaving, she leaned down to hug Melissa. "Thanks. You know, for caring and stuff."
Melissa patted her shoulder. "Always."
Leaving the kitchen, Malia made her way into the living room. She gave Stiles' chair a kick, jarring him awake, and said, "It's after eleven."
"What?" Voice raspy from sleep, he scrubbed at his eyes. Blinking a few times, he rolled himself off the chair and dragged his feet on the way to the door to dig around for his shoes.
Malia turned to Scott then, still passed out where she'd left him. Arms wrapped snug around himself, he sat tucked in the corner of the couch, floppy hair falling across his eyes, looking completely at peace. Crouching in front of him, she reached out and rubbed his shoulder gently. When that did nothing, she tapped her thumb against his cheek.
Slowly, Scott stirred, cracking his eyes open to a slit. He took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. "Lia?"
"Hey. Stiles and I are heading home. It's late. You should go to bed."
His eyes drifted closed. "Mmhmm."
She smiled and tapped his cheek again. "Come on, Sleepyhead. If you sleep out here, you'll get a kink in your neck."
"'m comfortable."
"No, you're tired." Shifting to stand in front of him, she took his hands and pulled him up. He groaned, rocking a little on his heels, and gave her a sleepy frown. "Bed. Now."
His mouth ticked up a little. "Bossy."
"Yeah, well." She gave his shoulder a nudge and stepped back. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Nodding, he raised a hand in an attempted wave and then stumbled toward the stairs.
She watched him go until her jacket hit her in the face. As it dropped into her hands, she scowled at Stiles, who merely grinned back. "That's for kicking the chair."
Rolling her eyes, she pulled her jacket on and walked to the door. "You better not fall asleep at the wheel."
Stiles snorted. "No promises."
…
The following morning, Malia's feet dragged as she walked down the hall. She could hear her jaw crack as she yawned, her mouth stretched wide, and gave her head a shake, trying to wake up a little more.
"Late night?"
Malia was surprised to find Erica walking next to her. "Kind of, yeah. And just a really bad sleep. I was tossing and turning all night. Weird dreams. You?"
"Surprisingly good, actually. I've got a history quiz I'm definitely going to fail, but I don't care because it's Friday and I officially get Saturday night off. Not that I have any plans for Saturday. I'm just looking forward to not working."
"If there was a party, I'd invite you. But I'm probably going to spend my Saturday watching a movie, so..."
Erica hummed. "Not a bad idea. Maybe I'll rent something."
"What are your thoughts on horror?"
She shrugged. "Depends on my mood. Why?"
"Just curious. I'm a fan, personally. We should hang out sometime, have a movie marathon or something."
A slow grin formed on Erica's face that she was clearly trying, and failing, to mute. "Yeah, sure, that'd be great."
"Cool." Malia looked up then and spotted a familiar face making their way down the hall, keeping to the edges and blending in. "Hey, Boyd," she called out.
He looked up, surprised, his eyes wide. "Hey," he mumbled
"Chase down any skate stealers lately?"
He continued down the hall, but pivoted to face her. "No one yet, but if it happens, I'll send your suggestion up to head office."
"Liar."
He half-grinned and shook his head.
Erica stared down the hall after his retreating form before turning back to Malia. "Expanding your social circle?"
"More lately than in the last five years combined." She shrugged. "Hey, if you're not working Saturday, are you working Sunday?"
"Why, expecting a hangover from all that movie watching?"
Malia snorted. "Not this time. But, I had a few groceries to pick up and Sunday's usually the best day for it. Just wondered if we'd cross paths again."
"I'm working, so yeah. I'll even make sure we bring out the extra stock on those Doritos you like."
"You bring a lot of benefits to this friendship, Erica. I like it."
She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh."
When they reached Malia's locker, Erica motioned over her shoulder. "I should go. But, see you Sunday, I guess."
"Yeah." She nodded. "See you then. And hey, good luck on your quiz."
"Thanks!"
As Erica walked off, Malia focused on her comm. She'd just pulled her locker open when Allison appeared next to her.
"Hey!" Allison grinned, far too cheerful for so early in the morning.
"Hey. I'm feeling popular this morning." She shrugged her bag off her shoulder. "What's up?"
"Nothing. I just wanted to check that we're still on for dinner tonight."
"Yup." Malia hung her coat on the hook inside her locker. "I have to meet this aunt that you think I resemble."
Allison rolled her eyes lightly. "You'll love her, I promise."
The bell rang then, signalling a warning to start making their way to first class.
"English," Malia said, digging out her books. She looked to Allison then. "Which reminds me, we should really work on that essay some more."
"Sure. How about Sunday night?" She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly. "That way you can tell me how things went with Cole on Saturday."
Malia smothered a smile and shook her head. "Sure. Sunday works."
...
"I know I'm walking dangerously close to being called a 'dick,' but hear me out..." Stiles laid on his back in the grass, one leg bent while his head rested on his backpack. He tossed an orange in the air and caught it in his palm, glancing from it to Malia, who was leaned back against her tree. "What's our biggest problem right now?"
"Math."
"What? No. A lack of information."
She shrugged. "That probably applies to math, too."
"The only person we get information from is Derek, right? When he feels like giving it to us. Which appears to depend on his mood or maybe what stage the moon is in, I don't know."
"Uh-huh."
"So, what if... just spit-balling here… he's wrong."
She blinked at him. "That's your theory?"
"If Scott wasn't a werewolf, right, would we be on the side of the hunters? Like, if we knew that werewolves existed and that this alpha had killed two people, we'd be rooting for the hunters, wouldn't we? So, what if they have more information we could use? What if, because we met Derek first, we only think he's the good guy. And that he's looking out for our best interests. I mean, we're in high school. We're teenagers and he wants us to help him track down some rabid, murdering werewolf."
"Your theory is flawed."
"Why?" He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Because you kind of like Derek and don't want him to be evil?"
"No. Because all information is filtered through experience. That means that werewolves will always be anti-hunter and paint them in a negative light and vice versa for the hunters. That means that all the information we get from them about each other is always going to be a least a little wrong."
His brow furrowed. "So, what the hell do we do then?"
"Take everything with a grain of salt. Base our opinions about things on the individual and not the group." She shrugged. "Look, all we can really do is make sure that the hunters don't find out what Scott is. Not if Kate Argent is a shoot first, ask questions later kind of person. Derek might be a semi-unreliable source, but he is a source. And I trust he's not going to come after Scott with a rifle, so fingers crossed he isn't bleeding out somewhere."
"Yeah." Stiles pursed his lips, gaze turned off thoughtfully. "What about tonight?"
"What about it?"
"You're going over to Allison's, right?"
"Yeah…" She frowned. "So?"
"So, isn't that poking the bear?" He shook his head. "Shouldn't we be avoiding the Argents at all costs?"
"Allison is her own person, and I don't think she's a threat. Her dad and aunt, sure, but she's different."
"For how long?" Stiles stared at her searchingly. "How do we know that she isn't being trained to hunt, too?"
Malia's conversation with Melissa ran through her mind. The idea that no child had to become like their parent. That free will would always be an option. That there was no pre-written rule that anybody was meant to turn out a certain way if they didn't want to. But, she also knew that patterns and experiences shaped people. That the Allison she knew today might not be the same she knew tomorrow. It would depend on what happened, on what her parents exposed her to, and how they spun the idea of werewolves when the time came. That or maybe Allison Argent was a better actor than Malia could ever expect. Maybe she'd been a trained hunter the whole time. Between gymnastics and archery, she had a good basis to work with.
With a sigh, Malia had to admit, "We don't."
…
Derek stumbled down the crowded, loud hallways of Beacon Hills high school. Every inch of his body felt like it was on fire, ricocheting through his veins from one particular place on his arm. As much as it pained him to ask for help, that was exactly what he needed, and his choices were limited. Which was how he found himself being knocked into by faceless teenagers, his legs so heavy they hardly felt like they were moving with each drudging footstep. Breathless, he came to a stop and took a moment to try and steady himself, his vision slanting and his balance skewed enough to nearly topple him.
Seconds or minutes passed, he wasn't sure, but when he reopened his eyes and looked up, he saw a boy standing at his locker, putting away his books. Jackson Whittemore. Derek recognized him from the lacrosse team, the same one Scott shouldn't be playing on when he was clearly a threat to the general populace. But that was an issue for later. Right now, he needed directions.
Marching toward Jackson with as much strength as he could muster, Derek came to a stop just short of the boy. "Where's Malia Tate?"
Jackson startled and turned, looking Derek over quickly before closing his locker. "Excuse me?"
"Or Scott McCall, either one." Derek shook his head, impatient. "Where are they?"
Jackson snorted. "Why should I tell you?"
"Because I asked you politely." Derek's brows arched. "And I only do that once."
"Hmm." Jackson smirked and crossed his arms. "Okay, tough guy. You know, how about I help you find them if you tell me what you're selling McCall? What is it? Is it, uh…" He leaned in and glanced around to make sure no one would overhear him. "Dianabol? Hmm? HGH?"
Derek stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment. But then, it dawned on him. Of course this kid wouldn't immediately assume that Scott was a supernatural creature. Instead, he went to a simpler reason for Scott's sudden increase in reflexes. "Steroids." He scoffed and took a step away to pass him. They might be on the same team, but he suddenly realized that Jackson wouldn't be of any help.
Jackson stepped in Derek's way and pressed a hand to his chest to stop him. "No, girl scout cookies," he snarked. "What the hell do you think I'm talking about? Oh and, uh, by the way, whatever it is you're selling…" He sucked in a breath and winced with faux concern. "I'd probably stop sampling the merchandise. You look wrecked."
Derek looked down. Beneath the cover of his jacket, blood drenched his arm and hand; he could feel it dripping to the floor below. Folding his hand into a fist, he gathered up what little restraint he had left, turned a dismissive look on Jackson, and walked past him. "I'll find them myself."
Jackson grabbed at the collar of Derek's jacket to pull him back. "No, we're not done—"
Restraint lost, Derek spun around, shoved Jackson's arm away, and grabbed him up by the back of his neck, slamming him face first against the lockers. Without meaning to, his claws sunk into the nape of Jackson's neck, drawing blood. He pulled his fingers free and then released him, hurrying down the hall. The scent of Jackson's fear burned Derek's nostrils. He turned a corner and came to a stop, leaning against a grey brick wall as he tried to catch his breath once more. His knees were wobbling, his skin felt tight, and his throat was painfully dry. It felt like the flu, only on a whole new level. Like a fever was burning its way through him and if he didn't starve it out of himself, he wasn't going to make it to the other side.
Suddenly, his hearing got away from him— the scrape of chalk on a blackboard, chairs squeaking, blaring music, a staticky voice on a phone, the tick of a locker com turning, fingers clicking away at the keyboard of a Blackberry, and then a voice—
"Did you invite Malia over for dinner tonight?"
"Lydia, hey. Yeah, I had a rough class too. I'm so glad it's Friday."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. We're friends and pleasantries are overrated. Now, back to what I asked. Is Malia coming to some super special family dinner tonight while I didn't even get an invite?"
"Um… Would you want one?"
"That's beside the point," Lydia dismissed. "I'm not sure I like the hierarchy that's growing here. If you'll remember, you met me first. I should take priority."
"There's no hierarchy and I don't have a preference." Allison laughed lightly. "Honestly, I just thought Malia would really like Kate. And I know Friday you're usually with Jackson, so I didn't even think to ask."
"We have plans, so I wouldn't be able to go. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't get a courtesy invite."
"You literally just said that friends don't need pleasantries."
"Well, this is different." Lydia sniffed haughtily. "In future, I expect an invite any time Malia gets one."
"Okay, but that means the same goes for you. If you're going to invite me to things, you should invite Malia, too."
There was a pause before Lydia said, "She's not my friend. She's yours."
"Lydia, come on…" Allison sighed. "We've only been friends a few weeks, but I think I know you well enough to say that you like Malia."
Reluctantly, Lydia admitted, "She's not completely terrible."
"Uh-huh." Allison sounded amused. "I stand by what I said. But, in future, I promise I'll invite you, too. It's just going to be dinner. My parents, my aunt, me and Malia. Scott's leaving before dinner starts, so hopefully we get to avoid any kind of interrogation."
Lydia hummed. "Does Malia know that you and Scott are going to be studying before she comes over?"
"Actually studying and not with extra emphasis you put on it, yeah. I mentioned it to her. Why?"
"No reason. Just, those two are really close, aren't they?"
"Okay... And?"
"That doesn't bother you?"
"Why would it? Malia's my friend and Scott's… I mean, we've had one date. I like him, but…"
"But what?"
"Nothing. I just—"
The bell rang then. It was shrill, like spikes boring into Derek's brain. He covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back as he tried to block out the all too acute sound. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was more than enough. When it ended, he grimaced, giving his head a shake and pushing off the wall. He needed to find Malia or Scott— immediately.
tbc
author's note: i decided to try to get this up tonight since the last two weeks have been out later on sunday. i've edited it, but i'm EXHAUSTED so i feel like i probably missed a few mistakes. if you catch them, let me know and i'll fix them. i know i said injured!derek would be in this chapter and originally he was going to be a lot more of a focus, but then i fleshed out a lot of the other scenes and so derek's scenes were pushed into the next chapter. a lot of this chapter felt like just a filler to get the plot moving toward where i needed it to be for this coming chapter, so i hope it wasn't boring.
things to look forward to next chapter: injured derek and worried malia; snoopy scott; defensive malia; kate and malia snark; and allison gets a better look at the malia/scott dynamic. ;)
thanks so much for reading, please try to leave a review!
- Lee | Fina