word count: 12,156
polyvore: username is 'sarcasticfina' - check under Collections for one named after this story to see all of Malia's fashion choices
episodes: 1x05 - the tell

XV

Malia woke up groggy, her mouth dry. She blinked crusty eyes upward, gauging how much light was coming in through the window, and then sighed. As much as she wanted to roll over and go right back to sleep, she knew she shouldn't. Kicking the blanket off, she carefully sat up, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a hand against her stitches as she felt them pull. Hissing, she squeezed her eyes shut and took a moment to let the pain fade. Her body felt achy, like when she'd go running for too long and hadn't stretched properly beforehand. Pushing off the bed, she swayed a little and willed her knees not to give out on her. When they didn't, she started for the door, bracing a hand against the wall as she walked down the hallway to the stairs. Grimacing, she gingerly made her way down. She could hear noise, so someone was home. The couch was empty and Scott's jacket was missing from the hook by the door, meaning he'd probably taken off for Stiles'.

The scent of food wafted over and Malia followed it to Melissa, who was cooking up a breakfast feast.

"Sausages..." Malia sighed appreciatively.

With a snort, Melissa grinned at her. "And hash browns and eggs and—" Pop! "—toast." Tossing a hand towel over her shoulder, Melissa nodded toward the table. "Sit down. I'll bring it out. You want orange juice or milk?"

"Milk. For my weak bones." Malia shuffled over to the table and took a seat, tucking one of her legs under her. She swiped her phone open and checked the time—10:11 am. She had texts from Cole, Danny, and an unknown number waiting for her.

She opened Cole's first. —'hey, no worries about last night. i heard there was some weird attack at the video store. was that you? are you okay?'

Malia sighed. Apparently, word got around quick. She thumbed back a reply. —'i'm fine. just a few stitches. it was weird. rain check?'

She opened the unknown's number then. The first read —'i didn't get a chance to talk to you after i gave my statement. just want to see if you're okay' Followed by—'it's erica, btw. got your number from danny'

Without answering, Malia checked Danny's texts, of which there were a few. —'hey, so jackson's going to be fine. they don't think he has a concussion. lydia's pretty messed up about it. I think she's in shock or something.'

—'i'm sorry i didn't stick around. i feel like a dick! you were bleeding, i should've stayed.'

—'the freshman that was with you, i think her name's erica? she asked for your phone number. i gave it to her. she said she wanted to check up on you. she also said you basically saved her and jackson... he said something similar.

—'well, not in so many words... but it was implied'

—'can you text me when you get this so i can stop worrying that i left you to bleed out?'

Malia smiled to herself. —'hey, stop worrying. i'm all stitched up and will have a gnarly scar to show off later. and I didn't save anyone. i'm surprised jackson's not pissed that i pushed him over.'

—'he is. he said you almost broke his nose.' Danny sent a smiling emoji. —'pictures or it never happened.'

Shifting on her chair, she pulled up her shirt and peeled back her bandage, wincing as it pulled at her skin. Snapping a picture of it, she sent it to Danny and then smoothed the bandage back down.

"Should I even ask?" Melissa wondered, bringing over a plate of food and a tall glass of milk.

"Just Danny. He wanted to see my stitches." She tucked her shirt back down and dropped her phone on the table. "You're eating too, right?"

"Yeah, I just ran out of hands to carry everything." She put Malia's food down in front of her before turning on her heel and walking back to the kitchen.

Malia's phone buzzed.

Danny had sent her a shocked emoji and —'gross. did they give you the good meds?'

She plucked up a sausage and bit off one end. —'they offered but it didn't really hurt at the time. i regret turning them down.'

—'i'm no drug mule but i might have some t3s somewhere.'

Malia snorted. —'it's fine. i'll live. but thanks!'

"Who's Danny?" Melissa wondered as she joined Malia at the table.

"A friend. He's just checking in." She put her phone face down on the table. "How was your sleep?"

"Doesn't matter how many hours I get, I always want a few more." Melissa smiled at her. "Yours?"

"Good."

"Was that before or after Scott snuck back down to the couch?"

Malia paused, a fork full of hash browns hovering just short of her mouth. "Uh..."

Melissa raised an eyebrow. "Do we need to have a conversation about safe sex?"

"No! Nooo..." Malia shook her head. "It was totally innocent. I was just... upset and feeling really emotional and he hugged me, that's it."

Melissa stared at her a long moment, brow furrowed skeptically.

"Seriously, he's dating Allison and we are not..." The words got stuck in her throat, jumbled together.

"Not what?"

"I... We don't... He..." Malia frowned. "He doesn't have those feelings for me."

Melissa hummed as she cut up her eggs and folded them onto her hash browns, letting the yolk run over them. "You remember when you and Scott became friends? You were ten years old and you, Scott, and Stiles were thick as thieves."

Malia nodded. "Yeah."

"But there was that little while before that, where you and Scott just didn't click. I think you were both scared Stiles liked the other one better. Anyway, I remember when that changed. I remember Scott pestering me all of Friday and Saturday. He said he had to go see this movie— he was so dramatic, he said it was life or death." Her smile was warm and fond. "And I asked him why he needed me, why he couldn't just ride his bike into town if it was that important. And he said that he needed to pick you up. That Stiles was sick and it was usually Noah that would drive out and get you. And I was so busy that weekend, I had back-to-back shifts, so I told him I just couldn't do it. You know Scott, he never wants to be a burden on anyone, so he dropped it. Or I thought he did. But then I saw him trying to map out all the times and routes that the busses take, and he was counting up his allowance so that he could pay for your bus fare, and... He was just trying so hard. I asked him why it had to be now, why this weekend, and he said he'd called the theater and it was the last week the movie was playing and that you really loved it. So, I called the hospital, I shifted some things around, and I told him I'd bring you guys to the movie. And he just— he lit up. He was so happy. And later, when he called me from the ice cream shop, and he said you were ready to be picked up, I knew something had changed. That you guys had finally connected outside of Stiles." She paused for a moment before saying, "He still lights up. When he talks about you or he sees you. You are one of the most important people in Scott's life and... I don't know. I don't know what his feelings are. But I know that, romantic or not, you two have a bond that not a lot of people find."

"I know and I'm grateful for that. I don't expect him to feel differently just because I do." She shook her head. "I just want him to be happy."

"I think he'd want you to be happy, too."

Malia stabbed a sausage with her fork. "I'm working on it."

"Good." Melissa nodded. "After breakfast, you should have a shower. It'll help loosen up your muscles and you won't feel so sore. And I want to check your stitches out before you leave, all right?"

Malia nodded. Between breakfast and Melissa's mothering, Malia was happy to soak up the feeling of being cared for.

…

Malia sat on the edge of Scott's bed in a pair of his sweat pants and a t-shirt, her legs folded, and her damp hair tied in a lopsided knot. She thumbed Allison's name in her contacts and raised the phone to ear.

"Hey! Did something happen last night? I got this weird text from Lydia that makes no sense. Something about the movie store and Jackson. It was strange…"

"Uh... Yeah, actually." She drummed her fingers against her knee. "There was an attack at the video store. Lydia was there, more a witness than anything. Jackson hit his head, but I guess he's fine."

"What kind of attack?"

"The animal variety. Like that bus driver, I guess. It broke into the video store and killed the clerk." She paused. It wasn't that she didn't want to tell Allison what had happened, just that she worried how the event might look to her dad and her aunt. But she also knew that eventually, the news was going to spread and it would look stranger if she didn't tell Allison. "It'll probably be all over Facebook or something soon, so just a head's up, I was there. It sucked. And I have the stitches to prove it."

"Stitches? Oh my God, are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's fine. I was mostly attacked by a shelf. Scott's mom stitched me up at the hospital last night and she checked them this morning, they're holding. I'm banned from moving around too much, so we might have to skip gymnastics for a little while. But I'll heal."

"Wow, this is... I don't even know. I mean, I'm glad you're okay. And Jackson and Lydia, too. I feel bad for the clerk, though."

"Yeah, same." She tapped her fingers against her knee. "Anyway, I'm bored and I want to get that essay out of the way. So, if you're still up for it...?"

"Absolutely. Are you at the hospital still or…?"

"Nope, I was discharged. I'm at Scott's."

"Oh. If you text me the address, I can come pick you up."

"Cool. See you soon."

…

The radio was playing on low as Malia and Allison cruised down the road, en route to Malia's house.

"I still can't believe you were tackled by some wild animal. That's just crazy."

Malia shrugged. "It didn't feel great."

"What do you think it was?"

"Probably a mountain lion or something. By the time it attacked, the lights were out, I couldn't really see what it looked like."

Allison shook her head. "That's like right out of a horror movie."

"Yeah, it kinda felt that way, too." Malia looked ahead, to a sign for the upcoming convenience store. "Hey, do you mind if we stop in there? I need to grab a couple things."

"Sure." Allison flipped her blinker and turned off the main road to pull the SUV to a stop in front of the store.

Malia unclipped her seatbelt. "I'll just be a minute."

"Are you sure you don't want help?" Allison worried. "Should you be carrying things?"

Malia nodded. "I'm fine, seriously. I'll be quick. It's not even anything heavy."

"Okay…" Allison looked skeptical, but didn't undo her belt.

Hopping out, made her way inside. She needed to pick up some food for Shiloh, but she also grabbed a bag of her favorite Doritos and a Gatorade as she went. Bringing it up to the front, she searched around, wondering if Erica had come in for work today. When springy blonde hair appeared behind the till, she smiled. "Survived an animal attack and back to work already. They should give you a raise."

Erica snorted. "I'll let them know you said so." She started ringing up Malia's groceries. "I texted you."

"I thought it'd be easier if we talked in person. Considering how weird everything was last night and how fast it all happened..."

"It was weird, yeah." She nodded. "But you're okay?"

"Mostly. You?"

"I'm good." Erica paused. "I had a nightmare last night. More than one, actually. I kept waking up and then when I'd fall back asleep... nightmare."

"What about?"

"Being chased, mostly. I could feel it right behind me, catching up. Then it changed. I..." She swallowed. "Last night, I saw it standing over you in the store. I mean, I didn't really see it, just this big, furry thing, and it was right next to you. And I thought... I thought you were dead or it was going to kill you. But I just stood there. I didn't do anything. And in my dream, it killed you. Then, in another dream, I was the one it killed and you watched." She shook her head. "Dreams are weird."

"So is trauma." Malia stared at her. "I didn't expect you to come charging into the store and take on some... mountain lion to save my life."

"But you did. You saved me and Jackson—"

"I pushed you," she interrupted. "I— I made a risky plan and when it didn't go right, I shoved you guys into a door. I'm lucky you didn't break through the glass and get seriously injured." She shifted her weight to her other foot, feeling awkward and nervous. "Look, all I'm saying is that I'm not a hero and you're not a coward for not coming back. It all happened over a few seconds. Nobody can blame you for being scared."

"Maybe. But when you were scared, you did something."

Malia shook her head. "That could've got us hurt." She paid her balance and hooked a hand in the grocery bag. "All I'm saying is that you can't blame yourself for something that I don't even blame you for. It was a freak attack that probably won't happen again. Give yourself a break."

Erica sighed, but nodded. "Yeah, all right."

"I've gotta go— homework. But, I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure." Erica waved.

Malia half-smiled and then turned on her heel and left. She wasn't sure why, but the conversation left her feeling weird. Maybe it was just the idea that Erica saw her as some kind of hero when that wasn't at all how she saw herself. Or maybe it was that she was aware she was keeping some pretty serious details of the attack to herself, like the fact that it definitely wasn't a mountain lion that had attacked them. But, as much as she liked Erica, she couldn't tell her what was really in that store, what had nearly hurt or even killed her.

When Malia returned to the SUV, Allison was frowning down at her phone.

"Everything okay?"

"Huh?" Allison looked up, blinked, and then nodded. "Oh, yeah. Just... Kate. She wants to make plans with me and I keep avoiding her. Which I can't do forever, obviously. It's just..." She put the SUV in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. "Don't make a big deal about it or anything, but tomorrow is my birthday..." She glanced at Malia nervously. "I'm turning seventeen."

"You cradle robber," Malia said blandly.

Allison snorted. "Shut up. I just always get really dumb questions about why I'm a year older."

"It's not that hard to figure out." Malia sunk back in her seat. "Your family moves around a lot."

"Exactly." She sighed, relieved. "I just, I don't know. I always feel weird about it."

"Have you told anyone?"

"No. Just you." She shrugged. "Obviously, Kate knows and she wants us to do something, but... I'm still mad at her."

"What do you usually do on your birthday?"

"Just spend it with family." She shook her head. "I've never really had friends long enough or close enough that I wanted to spend it with them."

"And now?"

Allison bit her lip. "I mean... would you want to do something?"

"Sure." Malia grinned. "But what would a senior citizen like yourself even want to do? Lawn bowling? Pool aerobics? Feed ducks in the park?"

Laughing, Allison rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

"All right, all right. Leave it to me. We'll find something to do, I promise."

"Okay." Allison struggled to hide how wide her smile was growing. "Cool."

…

A couple hours later, Malia sat in her desk chair, legs extended in front of her, groaning. "I hate essays."

Sitting on the bed, her back against a stack of pillows, Allison looked up. "How far are you?"

"If I had to bring math into it— and you know I hate to— maybe like 70 percent."

"You're almost done then!"

"Yeah, but that's pre-editing and second guessing everything I've said." Malia slumped and then winced, her side pulling. "Shit." She sat up and pressed a hand against her side. Every time she moved too much, she felt a tugging sensation and worried that she'd pulled her stitches out. Drawing her shirt up, she checked that the bandage still seemed relatively clean and wasn't soaked through with blood.

Putting her books aside, Allison shuffled down the bed to sit at the very end. She looked at Malia searchingly. "Does it hurt?"

"Not all the time." She dropped her shirt back down. "Getting the stitches was worse. Melissa's great, but there's something about knowing a needle is moving in and out of your skin that throws you off a bit."

Chewing her lip, Allison nodded. "Can... Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Hospitals are required to call your parents, right? Because you're a minor." At Malia's nod, she said, "But you stayed the night at Scott's and I guess I'm just wondering... Where was your dad?"

Malia went still. Her first instinct was to lie or make up an excuse. To tell Allison that her dad was out of town or that it was easier staying with Melissa, who was a nurse. But she stopped herself from tossing out an easy lie. She and Allison were friends and, well, as much as she had to lie about certain things, there were others that she didn't. Not if she didn't want to. "They tried calling him. But, uh, I guess he didn't hear the phone, 'cause he never answered. Melissa is listed as an emergency contact, so they let me go home with her."

"You can do that? List someone who isn't related to you as an emergency contact?" Her brow furrowed. "And they can just let you go?"

Malia paused. Her history with her dad was, well, complicated, and not something she liked to think about for too long. "A few years ago, my dad wasn't doing so good and... Melissa looked out for me… My dad's not mean. He's never hurt me, not physically or anything like that. It's not... I mean, there was this lady— a social worker or whatever— she said that it was like, mental abuse or something. That neglect still qualified." Malia shook her head. "But it wasn't like that. He was just... lost. Anyway, I told her she was wrong and he wasn't a bad person and that we were okay. I don't think she believed me, but she didn't take me, so there's that... But, I talked to Melissa about it and she talked to my dad. I don't know what she said, but the next thing I knew, I was staying at the McCall house for a few weeks and when I got home, it was different. We had groceries and the house was clean and dad was talking to me again. He just had a break down, you know? It's not like it was before, when my mom was alive. I don't think it'll ever be like that again. But for a little while, he was doing okay."

Allison didn't reply right away and the silence felt especially loud. Humiliation and discomfort started to grow inside Malia, swelling inside her chest and chewing away at her stomach.

Finally, Allison asked, "And now?"

"Now... He still does all the basic stuff— we always have food and the house stays pretty clean. And I think he wants to be involved. I think he cares. He just... He doesn't always remember."

"Remember what?"

Malia swallowed tightly. "Me."

Allison reached out, her hand finding Malia's; she folded their fingers together. "That's gotta be hard."

"Sometimes." Malia shook her head, attempting a smile. "I do okay, though. I stay pretty busy."

"You shouldn't have to." Allison stared at her searchingly. "But Scott's mom, she helps, right?"

"Yeah. Always. That's why she's the emergency contact. She'll always pick up."

Nodding, Allison sighed. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You shouldn't have to go through that... You lost them, too."

Malia wanted to crack a joke. She wanted to relieve the tension somehow. But her throat tightened and her eyes burned and she just couldn't find it in her to make light of the situation. So, when Allison stood from the bed and gathered her into a hug, Malia let her. And that burning humiliation of before died, replaced by the relief that came with Allison's unconditional support.

...

Later that afternoon, Malia and Allison sat across from each other in a diner— because cheap, greasy food was a necessary reward after getting their essays done early.

Malia rested her back against the wall, her legs stretched out along the bench seat, while she picked at a plate of fries. "Have you heard from Lydia at all?"

"No." Allison shook her head. "I've tried calling and texting, but she's not picking up. I'm kind of worried."

"She was pretty freaked out. Maybe she just needs some time to process."

"Maybe..." Allison took a sip of her strawberry milkshake. "Why do you think you weren't?"

"Weren't what?"

"Freaked out as much. I mean, it actually attacked you." Allison stared at her searchingly. "Shouldn't you be more traumatized?"

Malia shrugged. "Depends on the person, I guess. I grew up right next to the preserve while Lydia grew up in a suburb. Different experiences."

"Yeah, I don't know. I don't think I'd be as calm."

"Let's hope you never have to find out." Malia brought her own milkshake closer and swirled her straw around. "So, what do you want to do for your birthday?"

"I don't know. I usually go shopping and out for dinner and then gorge on cake."

"Yes, cake!" Malia's eyes lit up. "Do you like ice cream cake?"

Allison grinned. "Duh."

"Okay, so, what else? What do you want? Like, gift wise."

"I don't know." Allison shrugged. "It's super cheesy, but actually having people to spend my birthday with is sort of my biggest birthday wish."

"You're right, it's totally cheesy." Malia smirked. "You're a giant dork. But it's okay, I'll still be your friend."

Rolling her eyes, Allison laughed. "Whatever. I mean it."

"I know." Swiveling around in her seat to face her better, Malia dunked a fry into Allison's milkshake and winked at her. "We'll make it a memorable one."

…

After dinner, Allison dropped Malia back at her house. Seeing her dad's truck outside, she took a deep breath and made her way inside. She wondered how angry he'd be that he found out about the hospital late. That she'd been injured and she didn't come home. That she ended up relying on Melissa instead. A part of her was even looking forward to a reaction. Was it weird to think that maybe this could be the push he needed to really buckle down? That maybe something this serious could kick him into gear again. He'd been making progress, bit by bit, but sometimes she wondered if it wasn't one step forward, two steps back. It wasn't as bad as when she was younger, but it wasn't exactly good either.

Making her way inside, she shrugged off her jacket and toed out of her boots. The TV was playing in the background and the lights were on in the living room. Walking closer to the couch, she spotted him. Sprawled out on his back, empty beer cans on the floor. Whatever reaction Malia was expecting, this wasn't it. Disappoint crept up her back and weighed down her shoulders.

Sighing, she shook her head. The feeling of just never catching a break was quick to twist itself around her stomach. Pulling the blanket off the back of the couch, she spread it over him and then made her way to the hall.

She paused, however, right next to the phone. Her dad was old school— he kept a landline for emergencies and the phone had its own answering machine. The screen was blinking with six missed calls and three unheard messages. Malia glanced at the couch. At her dad, who couldn't be bothered to stay sober for more than a day or two. Who clearly didn't have the capacity to deal with the chaos of his own life, let alone hers. Who only seemed to disappoint her these day. And then she scrolled through the call display and erased the calls from the hospital. Finally, she erased the messages telling Henry that his daughter had been admitted to the hospital and would need him to pick her up.

Malia closed the book on a bad night and decided the less he knew, the better.

…

"Mom's gonna be so mad." Kylie crouched down next to Malia as she leaned against a tree, rucking up the leg of her jeans to see bruised and battered skin. Blood dripped down her leg in two long, crimson lines. "She told us not to play out here."

"It's just a skinned knee." Malia frowned. "Anyway, we're not that far from home. What's the big deal?"

"She says we can't come this far."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's private property." Malia pushed her hands down against the soft, muddy earth, and levered herself up the tree. "What's the big deal? There's just some family that lives out here. It's not like they bite."

Kylie snorted. "Maybe they do."

Malia cast her gaze to the sky, squinting through the reaching, criss-crossing branches of the trees. "It's getting dark."

"Can you walk?"

"It's not broken," she muttered.

"No, but it's bleeding pretty bad." Kylie's eyes darted around. "What if the animals smell it and attack us?"

"We'll be fine."

"We should cover it." Kylie reached up and pulled her bandana off her head, knocking a dragonfly barrette loose from her hair. "Here. We can put this around it."

"You don't have to—"

Kylie wasn't listening. She bent down and wrapped her bandana around Malia's knee as many times as she could before tying it in a knot. "How's that feel?"

Malia bent her leg a few times and nodded. "It's good."

Standing, Kylie hooked her arm around Malia's waist to help her walk and started moving. Malia had always loved the ups and downs the forest bed offered— trees, hills, creeks, and rocks always gave her something to jump over or off of. But now, with her leg twinging at every step, she found everything that much more difficult.

"What if the alpha finds us?"

Malia frowned and looked down at the top of Kylie's head, her messy hair tied in two braids on either side. "What?"

"It has your scent now, right? What if it tracks you down?"

Shaking her head, Malia blinked. Suddenly, she wasn't her nine-year-old self and remembering a time when she and Kylie had wandered too far from home. Instead, she was sixteen, leaning on a long dead sister. "Why would it do that? I'm nobody to it."

"Derek said Scott needed a pack and you were it, right?" Kylie looked up at her. "But the alpha wanted Scott in his pack... What if he hurts you to make that happen?"

Malia frowned.

"You remember when Mrs. Esposito had a house out here? She lived even deeper in the woods."

Her head spun at the sudden topic change. "Yeah, she had that raspberry bush she used to let us raid."

"Why do you think mom let us go out there, but we weren't allowed out this way?"

"I don't know." Malia shrugged. "Maybe it was the creek. She didn't want us crossing it."

"Yeah. Maybe." Kylie grinned up at her. "I'll race you the rest of the way."

"But, my knee, it's—" Malia looked down and saw that her leg was perfectly fine. The bandana was long gone and her skin was unblemished. When she looked up, Kylie was already hurrying through the trees, her hands skimming over the top of long grass. "Hurry up!"

Malia startled awake and stared, blurry-eyed at the dark ceiling of her bedroom. Her sister's laughter still rung in her ears, an echo that left behind nostalgia and pain in equal measure. She sunk back against her bed and sighed. These dreams were getting weirder and weirder. While Malia had dreamt of her mom and sister before, it was never this often. It tended to happen closer to birthdays or Christmas or the anniversary of their death. Lately though, it felt like they were all she dreamt of. It used to be just memories; fractured glimpses of moments they'd shared. Now, it was that and more. The past mixing with her present in a way that left her confused and disjointed.

Turning over onto her side, she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep, hoping she wouldn't dream at all.

…

Come morning, Malia was exhausted. She'd tossed and turned all night and wasn't feeling particularly motivated to do much of anything. But, she dragged herself out of bed anyway. After filling Shiloh's bowl, she served herself some cereal, and then looked up, surprised, when there was a knock at the front door. Stiles was a knock-and-enter type, if he remembered to knock at all. So, when the door didn't swing open, she walked toward it, confused. Her dad had long taken off for work, so the number of people that would be visiting her this early in the morning was small.

Pulling the door open, her brows hiked when she found Derek on the other side. "Uh, hey… Don't tell me you got lost."

He rolled his eyes. "No. I…" He paused. "I came to check up on you."

Malia glanced away. "Oh. I'm fine."

"Good." He tucked his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Scott was pretty worried when he found out you'd been hurt… You're gonna have to be careful about that."

"About getting hurt or keeping Scott from worrying? Because that's a little harder to do than you might think."

"In case you haven't noticed, Scott's pretty attached to keeping you alive. He'd probably shift if he thought you had a hangnail…" He rolled his eyes. "He needs to work on his control."

"That's funny considering I've asked you to help him with that."

Derek frowned. "I gave him some advice. It's not my fault if he has trouble following it."

Malia's eyebrow arched. "What kind of advice?"

"Scott needs an anchor."

"An anchor…?"

Derek sighed. "It varies for different people, but it basically means that you use a memory or a feeling or a person to tether yourself. That way, when the pain comes, you can think of it, and instead of shifting, you're grounded."

She nodded slowly. "Does it have to be one thing? Because we've been using something. It's not perfect, but when he thinks of his friends, his mom, Allison, he can sort of stop it. Sometimes it just seems to hold it off or slow it down. But there've been a couple times where it worked almost perfectly."

"Times when you were there?" Derek stared at her. "Maybe you said something, even reached out."

She shook her head. "Yeah, I guess. So what?"

Derek cast his eyes upward for a long beat. "Look, that might work temporarily, but he needs one thing that can he can hold onto that's going to stop his shift in its tracks."

"Okay. We'll work on it, I guess." She searched his face. "What's yours?"

"What?"

"What's your anchor?" She shrugged. "Why? Is it personal or something? Is that, like, weird to ask?"

"Depends on the person." He shifted his feet. "I use anger. Pain works, too."

"Pain?"

"Yeah. Break your wrist or a finger, it snaps everything into focus."

"Literally…" She stared at him thoughtfully. "That sounds depressing. Maybe rethink your anchor."

He snorted and a faint smile edged at his mouth. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Anyway… I have school." She dropped her hand against the door. "Stiles is gonna be here in a bit."

Derek nodded. "Like I said, I just wanted to check in… You took the alpha on and survived. I'm impressed."

"I didn't take it on. I just… got in its way." She shrugged. "I was a distraction so Erica and Jackson could get out."

"Still… For whatever reason, it didn't kill you."

"Don't sound too excited."

"Why?" His gaze narrowed. "Why wouldn't it kill you?"

"I'm not sure it wouldn't have tried… When I was on the floor, it had pinned me down. I could barely breathe."

"You think it would've killed you?"

"I don't know… Maybe."

Derek hummed. "If it didn't, if it never planned to, that means it's targeting specific people."

Her brow furrowed. "So, what does a bus driver and a video store clerk have in common? Why them?"

He shook his head. "I don't know… But I'll find out." He backed up then, turning toward the porch stairs. "You should change your bandages, so your stitches don't get infected. The blood smell old."

Malia stared after him a beat. "That's creepy!" she called after him.

He waved a hand over his shoulder and continued down to his car.

"Weirdo." Closing the door, she returned to her cereal.

…

"It's still weird to me that he just shows up at your house." Stiles readjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder as they walked down the hall.

"Not that weird. He knocked, at least. Half the time, you just walk right in."

"Yeah, but that's different. I earned those privileges. I've invested six years into this friendship, I get some leeway!"

Malia rolled her eyes. "Anyway, he brought up a good point."

"What, you mean about how they have to be tied together somehow?" He nodded. "Sure, I mean, if he's right. If the alpha is targeting specific people, then we need to find out how they knew each other."

"It's a small town, though. They could know each other through any number of ways."

"True. But, something's gotta stand out…" His brow furrowed. "If this person killed Laura Hale strictly to become an alpha to hunt these guys down, then they must've done something big, right?"

Malia nodded. "But how do we even find something like that out? It's not like we can do a deep-dive on these guys."

"Why not?" Stiles shrugged. "We break into their houses, right? Take a look around, see what we turn up."

"Said the Sheriff's son..." Malia shook her head. "I'll think about it. Just don't do anything without me. We need to be on the same page about any B&E's."

Stiles snorted. "Sure. Sounds good."

"Malia!"

Together, Malia and Stiles pivoted to face the other end of the hall, where a worried Cole was approaching.

Stiles sighed.

"Hey..." Cole reached out, his hand finding Malia's forearm. "I know you said you were okay, but... I wanted to see for myself."

She half-smiled. "I'm fine, seriously. But, uh, thanks. For worrying. And sorry about Saturday."

"No, don't worry about it. It just sucks that picking up the movie is what set things in motion."

Stiles butted in then. "Kind of good it did though, right? Since Malia here pulled a Superman and saved a Freshman and Jackson from being mauled to death..." He raised a fist and said, rather unenthusiastically, "Go Malia."

Cole's eyes widened. "You saved people?"

"Uh... He's making it sound much cooler than it was." She waved a dismissive hand. "Really. It was dumb."

"I'd like to hear the story if you're up to it." Cole shrugged. "Maybe we could have lunch together?"

"You know, I would, but today is a little booked. I'm free tomorrow."

Cole nodded. "Sure. That works."

"Great. I'll see you then." Reaching out, she socked him in the arm.

Amused, Cole merely grinned. "See you then." As he moved past her, he paused to kiss her cheek. "Feel better."

Malia felt her whole face warm up and refused to look at Stiles. When she was sure Cole was out of hearing range, she muttered, "Don't say it."

Stiles ignored her. "You punched him in the arm like you were the coach of his Little League team."

"I know…" She groaned. "I panicked."

"Good swing, kid, lead with your left next time."

Malia turned a glare on Stiles. "Seriously?"

He smirked. "That was painful to watch. How do you make out with him if this is how you two act?"

"Making out doesn't involve a whole lot of talking." She shrugged. "Anyway, it was just... weird. Like, I get that he cares, but I didn't expect genuine worry."

Stiles frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know. Because we're not a real thing. We're just people—"

"With benefits. Yeah, I know." Stiles rubbed a hand over his hair. "Maybe he wants to be more. Maybe finding out you were in mortal danger flipped a switch for him."

Malia pulled a face. "Well, how do I get it to un-switch?"

Stiles tossed a hand up and shrugged. "No idea."

"Hey," a familiar voice said at her shoulder.

Malia turned to see Danny and grinned. "Hey!"

"Is it okay to hug you or...?"

Rolling her eyes, she said, "I'm not that fragile." Opening her arms, she leaned in for a hug and hooked her chin over his shoulder. "It's gonna take more than some mountain lion to take me out."

He snorted and rubbed a hand over her back. "I'm glad. You had me a little worried with that 911 text."

"At least you got one," Stiles muttered.

Danny glanced at him, his brow furrowed.

Stepping back, Malia explained, "Stiles is mad I didn't call him for help even though I was limited for time and you actually knew where I was. Anyway, I'm glad you're here. I have to cancel tutoring this afternoon."

Danny cocked his head. "You get a couple stitches and suddenly math is off the table?"

"Math is always off the table. It'd be in another hemisphere entirely if it were up to me. But, no, actually I have plans with Allison. Don't mention it to anybody, but it's her birthday and I wanted to make it special. So, I'm really only here to talk her into skipping and then taking our thrill-seeking butts elsewhere."

"As your tutor, I should probably disapprove..." Danny grinned. "But as your friend, I think it's pretty cool you're doing something for her."

"Yeah, well. Don't make a big deal about it."

Shaking his head, he squeezed her shoulder. "All right. Us overachievers need to get to class. Text me later and make sure you're in tutoring tomorrow. You've got a test coming up."

Malia saluted him. Once he'd walked down the hall, she turned to Stiles, only to see him frowning at her. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? You're skipping school on the same day we have parent/teacher interviews?"

"I got stitches Saturday. If anybody asks, I'll just say I was sore and I went home." Shrugging, she started down the hall, en route to Allison's locker. "You don't have to come. We're just gonna hang out, eat our weight in ice cream cake, maybe raid a store for helium balloons."

Stiles glanced around. "Are you sure you want to do this? I know we've all kind of swept it under the rug that Allison is the daughter of a hunter, but don't you think we should rethink how close we're getting to her? What if someone calls home, tells her dad or her aunt that Allison didn't make it to school. Later, he finds her with you, jumps to conclusions, and the next thing you know, you're mounted on their wall next to the last werewolf they bagged."

"How much sugar did you have before school?" She shook her head. "Stiles, they're not going to shoot me because Allison skipped a day of school. As far as they know, I'm human."

"Which doesn't mean anything, not to them. You heard Derek— these people are ruthless."

"Never thoughts I'd hear you use Derek as the voice of reason…"

"That's beside the point. Look, I just think we need to be careful."

"If you're so scared, come with us." She shrugged. "Of the three of us, you're the least close to Allison. This way, you can meet her, really get to know her, and you'll see she isn't like her family."

Stiles frowned. He took a deep breath through his nose and let it out on a sigh. "Parent-teacher interviews," he reminded.

"So, we skip the morning and come back for the afternoon." She shrugged. "It's a few hours. I don't think your grades will suffer that much."

Stiles didn't answer, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers against them absently.

Malia spotted Scott at Allison's locker as she approached and smiled as he stood, turning to face her.

"Hey." He looked her over quickly, his mouth twisted up. "How do you feel?"

"Fine. Just like every other time you texted me."

He shrugged. "I'm worried."

Allison turned to face her. "Lydia filled my locker with balloons and a card. I don't even know how she figured it out."

Malia's brows hiked. "It's Lydia."

Sighing, Allison shook her head. "Maybe we shouldn't do anything today. We can reschedule for the weekend."

"Not a terrible idea," Stiles agreed.

"No." Malia stared at her. "Today's your birthday and we're going to celebrate it. No lame dinner and shopping with your parents. A real hang out with real friends... And Stiles."

"Hey!"

"What? You two barely know each other."

"Still..." He shrugged. "Didn't need to make me feel like some weird fourth wheel."

Malia blinked at him and then returned her attention to Allison. "Anyway... I propose we kick things off with breakfast."

"Wait, what's happening?" Scott wondered.

"We're taking Allison out and giving her the best birthday of her life... Not to oversell it or anything." Hooking an arm through Allison's, she started down the hall, and heard the boys fall into step behind them. "Options are kind of limited. The bowling hall is open, laser tag—"

"Wait, wait, wait." Allison tugged her to a stop. "You want to skip? I thought we'd do something after school..."

"Why wait?"

"Well, you're asking someone who's never skipped a day in her life to skip the whole day."

"Or just the morning. I haven't decided yet." Malia shrugged. "It doesn't have to be anything big. We can, I don't know, make a bonfire, hang out in the woods. We did that for Stiles' birthday once."

Scott grinned. "We had s'mores and Stiles almost started a forest fire."

"Almost being the key word there," Stiles defended.

Allison laughed lightly. "I don't know..."

"Come on. It'll be fun." Malia took each of Allison's hands and pulled on them, one after the other, making her dance. "I promised you something memorable, right?"

Biting her lip, Allison tried to hide her smile, but eventually gave in. "Okay. All right. But if we get caught, I'm totally blaming you."

"Deal." Malia pivoted on her heel and started walking again, bringing Allison along with her. "So, bowling alley or...?"

"I liked the woods idea. I haven't really seen much of the preserve and if anyone sees me, I could get detention, so..."

"Cool. Preserve it is."

…

They made a stop at the convenience store first, picked up some snacks and drinks and then loaded back into the cars. While Scott and Stiles followed in the jeep, Malia joined Allison in her car. "Are you still freaking out?"

Allison glanced at her, her eyes wide. "A little bit, yeah. Is that weird?"

Malia shrugged. "I get it. I haven't skipped a lot either. The first time was because Stiles was having a panic attack— he couldn't focus or catch his breath. We were twelve and it was right before school and we just stopped, sat down on a bench a block away from the school, and stayed there. I didn't know what to do, so I talked. Mostly about some TV show we were both into. Eventually, he calmed down, and we stayed there a while longer. We missed the morning, but we showed up at school in time for break." She shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal."

"What about the next time?"

Malia turned her gaze out the window. "Scott was sick. He had a really bad flu and it was messing with his lungs. Melissa had to be at the hospital, she'd already used up all of her sick days staying with him. I was worried. I don't know, I guess I thought if nobody was there to keep an eye on him, he'd have a coughing fit and kick the bucket or something. So, I left school, showed up at his place, and kept him company. We ate soup and played video games and he used a whole box of Kleenex blowing his nose. Stiles showed up after school and we stayed there until Melissa got home."

Allison nodded. "You're a really good friend."

Malia turned to her. "Are you just saying that because I promised you ice cream cake?"

She laughed. "No. But are we seriously getting one?"

"Absolutely."

Grinning, Allison said, "I know we haven't really done much yet, but this is already one of my best birthdays."

"Yeah? Wait until you have a s'more. Are you still doing something with your family tonight? After parent-teacher interviews."

"I don't know. Probably." She paused and bit her lip. "Don't hate me, but I talked to Kate. She feels really bad about what she did and she apologized like, a lot. I'm still mad at her, but... I don't know. She gave me an early birthday gift." Hooking a thumb in the chain of her necklace, she raised it for Malia to see. "It's a family heirloom. Apparently, if I look up the symbol in the middle, it'll tell me more about my family history."

Malia felt her stomach sink like a cinder block. "Really?"

"Yeah." Her brow furrowed. "Is that weird or cool? I can't tell."

"Guess it depends on what you find." She attempted a smile. "It's a nice necklace."

"Thanks."

Absently, Malia said, "Take the left turn off."

…

Malia and Stiles walked a little ahead, far enough that Allison wouldn't be able to overhear them, as they cut through the woods toward a well-known fire pit. It might be a little damp this time of year, but that was why they picked up logs and kindling at the store. Glancing over her shoulder to see Allison laughing at something Scott was saying, Malia quickly turned her attention back on Stiles. "She said it was a family heirloom. That Kate gave it to her and wants her to look up her family history."

Stiles' eyes widened. "What? Are you serious? What's going to happen when she does?"

"I don't know. Maybe nothing."

He sent her a droll look.

"If you read that your ancestors were werewolf hunters, would you immediately believe it?"

His brows hiked thoughtfully. "I mean, I wouldn't discount it. If Scott wasn't a werewolf, that'd be kind of cool."

Malia rolled her eyes and knocked her hand against his chest. "Seriously. Allison is going to think it's some weird fairytale or something. She won't put stock into it."

"Maybe not," he allowed. "But if she asks questions, how do we know Kate won't fill her in and tell her it's not as fake as she thinks it is?"

Shaking her head, Malia sighed. "We have to do something."

"Like what?" He shook his head, his eyes wide. "And also, why? Look, I get that she's a nice person and you and Scott really like her. But at some point, we need to cut our losses here."

"No. Not until I know for sure."

"Know what?"

"That we can't save her!"

Stiles stared at her. "Who says she needs or wants saving?"

Malia didn't have an answer to that.

…

Allison tucked her hands in the pockets of her jacket and dragged her gaze from Malia and Stiles up ahead, turning to look at Scott. "So, you guys came out here for Stiles' birthday?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah. Uh, it was a couple years ago. You know when you hit a certain age and birthday parties seem really lame? It was like that. He didn't want to have a big thing and his dad was just going to take him out for dinner and give him his gift there. But we still wanted to do something, so we came out here. It was kind of a camping thing, actually. We were gonna spend the whole weekend, but after the almost-fire, we packed it in after one night." He laughed to himself. "It was fun, though. Mostly, we just ate a lot and Stiles told ghost stories. Well, not really ghost stories. It started off urban myths but then he started talking about real stories, like serial killers that were never caught and stuff. Freaked us out a bit."

"Any chance that led to the fire?"

"Nah. Stiles moves around a lot in his sleep and accidentally stuck the foot of his sleeping bag in the fire. He woke up and kicked it off, but then it landed on this bush and, uh, yeah. We were close to a creek, so we were filling up everything we could to put the fire out. It worked, but it could've been pretty bad."

Allison laughed, more in shock than anything. She raised a hand to cover her mouth and shook her head. "I'm sorry. That sounds really awful, but... He just put his feet right in the fire."

Scott grinned. "It was dumb. Malia said she was never taking us camping again."

Allison nodded. "I get it."

"It was pretty great, though. It's usually just the three of us on our birthdays. My mom used to throw these big parties, invite everyone in my class, but it always felt a little weird."

She hummed. "Has it always just been you, Stiles, and Malia?"

"Me and Stiles for sure. We've known each other forever. I met Malia when I was ten. Before that, I don't know. I had another best friend for a while— Theo. He and his family moved after, uh, well, his sister died. She drowned and I guess it was too much, so they moved away."

Allison's expression twisted up with genuine sorrow. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't really know her. I haven't seen Theo since. I still had Stiles, though. And then he met Malia and... that was it." He shrugged. "It's been the three of us ever since."

"You're lucky."

"Yeah. I am." He smiled at her. "Looks like you're pretty lucky, too. Malia's kind of picky about who she hangs out with."

Allison half-smiled. "I'm glad she picked me... even if I did run her dog over."

He laughed under his breath. "Well, it worked out."

"Yeah." She chewed her lip. "Can I ask you something?"

"Uh... sure."

"This is going to sound totally out of left field and you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but... Have you ever been in love before?"

Scott's brows hiked.

Allison quickly raised a hand. "Not that I expect you to say anything about me. We've only really been dating a little while. If you even want to call it that, since we've had like, what, one and a half dates? Not including that seriously awkward dinner where my aunt accused you of stealing from her..." She rolled her eyes. "Sorry. I just meant..." She sighed. "I was talking to Malia. And Lydia. And there's just been a lot of pressure about this whole idea of what things are supposed to be like and what you're supposed to do. Like, I'm happy with where we are. We hang out and sometimes we make out and it's fun and I like it. But then I talk to Lydia and she says that, you know, you have to do more to get more, to keep someone's attention. And I've never really thought of it like that. I get where she's coming from, but..." Allison shook her head. "This is coming out wrong. I talked to Malia too and she said that I should talk to you. That I should just be honest and talk to you about expectations... you know?"

"Okay..." His brow furrowed. "And the stuff about love?"

"I guess... I don't know, I guess I just wondered if you ever have been. If there was someone before that maybe..." She trailed off, biting her lip and looking nervous. "Ignore me. Please. That was so weird."

"I have."

Allison looked back at him. "Huh?"

"I've been in love before. Or... I think I was. It was complicated." He ducked his eyes and licked his lips. "I had feelings for someone. Really strong feelings. But, she didn't feel the same way, so... I tried to move on."

"Did it work?"

"Sort of." He frowned. "It's hard to say if you love someone if you've never really been together. Maybe I just felt like I could. Or that if we ever went somewhere, it would just make sense. You know?"

She nodded slowly. "Does she know?"

"No. No, I never said anything. I sort of panicked." Reaching up, he brushed a hand down the back of his neck. "I guess that doesn't answer your question."

"It did, actually." Allison nodded. "Do you think...? I mean, when you look at how you felt about her, did you ever feel that way about anyone else?"

He looked up and met her eyes, staring at her searchingly. "I—"

"Hey, slowpokes!" Malia shouted. "Hurry up, you've got all the good stuff!"

Together, they turned to look, and found Malia standing just short of a clearing, her hands on her hips, an eyebrow raised impatiently.

Scott shook his head, smiling to himself. "We're coming!" He looked to Allison. "Can we take a rain check on this conversation? Pick it up later?"

She nodded. "Yeah, totally."

They hurried ahead then and found Stiles bent over the firepit.

"You want some help?" Allison offered.

Stiles looked up at her and then his eyes narrowed. "Scott told you the sleeping bag story, didn't he? I was asleep!"

Allison folded her lips to hide a laugh.

Malia didn't bother hiding hers at all.

...

"No, no, no." Stiles waved a hand around. "That's not what happened."

Malia rolled her eyes. "That's exactly what happened."

Scott grinned as he shaved down a stick to a point. There were already three finished, stuck in the dirt to keep them upright.

"Okay, you're saying that because you're biased. Because you think I stole Paul."

"Paul?" Allison's brow furrowed.

"Paul the Pig," Scott told her. "Malia's favorite stuffed animal."

"That Stiles stole!"

"Allegedly!" Stiles threw his hands up. "The evidence says that Scott is just as much a suspect as I am but you never accuse him of taking her."

"You called a stuffed pig 'Paul?'" Allison smiled slowly. "Why?"

"Because that's her name. My dad gave her to me when I was like, four, and when he asked me what I wanted to call her, I picked Paul." She shrugged. "It stuck."

"Malia brought Paul to every sleep over and used her as a pillow," Scott added. "But then she went missing one night and we never saw her again."

"And Stiles hated her."

"She had beady eyes," Stiles cried. "She was always staring at me. I couldn't sleep!"

Malia leapt to her feet and stabbed a finger in his direction. "A-ha! So you admit it!"

Stiles scoffed. "No. But if I did, I would've had a good reason."

Malia narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, please."

"I didn't take her. You probably left her somewhere and just forgot." He pressed his hands to his chest. "The point is, I've lived with this accusation for six years and I'm sick of it!"

"Do they do this a lot?" Allison wondered, glancing at Scott.

He smiled. "Yeah. They fight like this all the time."

Allison tipped her head. "It's kind of cute. They're like brother and sister."

Malia reached over and shoved at Stiles' face until he toppled backwards off the log he was sitting on and landed on the ground behind him.

"Oh, real mature," he muttered, pulling himself back up.

Glaring at him, Malia retook her seat and turned her attention to Allison. "So, how's the birthday going so far?"

"Well, I'm only slightly terrified my dad is going to kill me if he finds out I skipped. I'm even more worried that Stiles might fall into the fire. And I'm about to have a s'more at nine in the morning. But, I'm not complaining." She tucked her hands between her thighs. "This actually feels like the most normal thing I've ever done. I mean, skipping's kind of a rite of passage, right?"

"Oh yeah," Stiles agreed. "I don't even think they let you graduate if you haven't done it at least once."

Allison rolled her eyes. "I just meant that… I don't get to do things like this a lot. Moving around like I do, I feel like I'm always 'on.' I'm always trying to make a good impression and fit in and… It's exhausting."

"So… stop." Malia rested her arms on her knees and shrugged. "We're already friends— you don't need to impress me."

Scott nodded. "Or me."

"I'm not against being impressed." Stiles' brows hiked. "Impress away."

Allison grinned, her dimples popping. "Well, I happen to be an expert marshmallow toaster, how's that for impressive?" She plucked a stick from the dirt and reached for the bag of marshmallows, tearing it open with her teeth before she stuck one on the end.

"That… sounds like a challenge." Stiles circled the fire to grab up a stick of his own. "You're on. And don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're the birthday girl."

…

Entirely too many s'mores later, Malia sat sideways on her log, her back resting against Scott's side. "I'm regretting all of my choices."

"All of them?"

"Maybe just the last three." She frowned. "How many s'mores was that?"

"A lot." He smiled. "It was really nice of you, bringing Allison out like this."

"Yeah, well, she deserves it. I'm not sure how memorable it was."

"She seems to be having fun."

Having limited her s'more intake, Allison was making hot dogs with Stiles. They seemed to be bonding over a book series they were both into, proving to Malia that Allison was a bigger nerd than she might seem. "We still have to get an ice cream cake."

"Maybe you should eat something that isn't pure sugar and then we'll talk."

"Okay, dad…" Malia rolled her eyes.

After a pause, Scott cleared his throat. "How'd, uh, how'd your dad take it when he found out about the attack?"

Malia bit her lip. "He doesn't know."

"What?" Scott shifted to face her, pressing a hand to her back to keep her steady. "What do you mean? How?"

Sighing, she turned around to face him. "He never talked to the hospital. He missed all their calls and… I erased the messages they left."

"Lia…" He shook his head. "Why?"

"What would he even do? It's not like he can change it."

"No, but… he'd want to be there for you."

"To do what?" Her brow knit. "It happened and now it's over. Telling my dad means he might go into overprotective mode, which we don't really have time for right now. I need to be able to come and go like usual."

He frowned. "He should know."

"Why?"

"Because you were hurt and— and he should care."

Malia swallowed tightly. "I'll tell him eventually. When we don't have more important things to worry about."

"Hey..." He rubbed his hand down her arm. "This is important. You're important."

Malia chewed on the inside of her cheek. "When I got home, I was expecting a different reaction." She scoffed. "Any reaction. But... he was passed out on the couch and there were empty beer cans on the floor and... I put two and two together." She shook her head. "I should know better by now, right?"

Scott didn't say anything. Instead, his hand slid up to the nape of her neck and tugged, drawing her toward him. She let her arms wind around his waist and pressed her face against his shoulder. He was warm and solid, just like always. This close, all she could smell, see, and feel, was him. And it felt good. Enveloped as she was, she could sink into that heat and comfort and get lost.

"What's happening? What'd I miss?" Stiles plopped down on the log next to Malia. "Are you two sharing secrets over here and leaving me—" He motioned to Allison. "—us out. Totally unfair."

Malia rolled her eyes and slowly detangled from Scott, turning to face Stiles. "Hey, we should play a game."

"If you suggest truth and dare, the chances of me starting another fire go up exponentially," he warned. "So definitely take a second to think this through..."

She snorted. "No. What about that game we played at Brandy Lu's house when we were in seventh grade. At that co-ed sleepover party, you remember?"

"I remember Scott snoring so loud I didn't sleep at all," Stiles muttered.

"I had a cold!" Scott defended.

"Anyway..." Malia rolled her eyes. "Someone picks something, like, first kiss, and we all say three things that relate to it, like age, name, place, feeling, whatever."

Allison nodded. "Okay. That could be fun." She picked at her hot dog to see how well done it was before wiping her hand on her jeans and letting it rest over the fire once more. "Um... first time you skipped school." She grinned. "Today, the preserve, and... fun."

Malia nodded. "Grade seven, Stiles, and park bench."

"Aww," Stiles said, bumping her shoulder. "All right, my first time... I was six, in Kindergarten, and I got distracted chasing a frog and... yeah, didn't come back until the last bell rang. Dad was pissed."

Scott grinned. "I remember that."

"What about you?" Allison wondered. "When was the first time you skipped?"

"Uh, I was... nine, I think. It was with Theo, just before he moved away. We came out here, walked around." Scott nodded. "It was sad. He was still pretty messed up about his sister."

Malia's hand landed on his knee and squeezed gently. Scott's covered it, his thumb skimming along her pinkie.

"I'll go next," Stiles said. "Let's see. Okay, best childhood memory. Mine was my mom, driving around in her Jeep, we used to play 'I Spy' all the time. She, uh..." He rubbed a hand over his hair and down his neck. "She always picked the weirdest things."

"I was six, mom took me to Disneyland, and I threw up on Mickey Mouse," Scott said.

"That's your best memory?" Malia grinned at him. "Why?"

"Because... it was Disneyland." His brows hiked. "And I got to meet Mickey Mouse."

Snorting, she looked out across the fire. "Allison, what's yours?"

"Um, probably when I was eight. My dad got me a new bow and we spent the whole day together." Her gaze fell. "He gets really busy and we don't always get to spend a lot of time together. But he was so excited, you know? That I liked it and that he could be there to show me how to use it... Yeah, it was really nice."

Malia's gaze slid toward Stiles, who was frowning. His eyes cut toward her, brow furrowed, and he gave his head a small shake. She knew in her heart that Allison was an innocent bystander in all this. That she didn't know about werewolves and she wouldn't actively kill one, especially if it was someone she knew. But that didn't mean she could completely ignore Allison's family history, or the fact that Derek had said each hunter was groomed. So as much as Allison's memory was painted in nostalgia, it was also the first step in her following in her father's footsteps.

"Malia?"

"Huh?" She looked up abruptly. "Oh. Right. Uh..." She had a lot. It was hard not to when that was the only time her family was whole. "When I was seven, I had this really awful flu. I had a fever and I was stuck in bed for like a week. And it completely sucked. It was the worst feeling ever. But... my mom stayed with me the whole time. She used to make this tea from something in her garden, it always made me feel better. But, I was so sick, I couldn't even lift my arms. So, she fed it to me and she'd sing me to sleep and every time I woke up, she was there, just holding me. It's weird, you know? You feel terrible, like you're going to die, but, somehow having her there made me feel like I couldn't. Like, no matter how bad it got, she wouldn't let me go."

Scott turned his hand over and parted his fingers, letting hers fall between them. "First friend?" Scott suggested. "Mine was a kid named Parminder, lived next door to me when I was little. We used to pretend we were the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles."

"Which one were you?"

"Leonardo."

"Stiles would be Mikey."

"Hey!"

"Your superpower was to create pizza."

Stiles paused. "Good point."

Malia shook her head. "My first friend was probably Kylie. I didn't really hang out with anyone else until Kindergarten and then it was a girl named Sophie. She used to stick marbles up her nose and then blow really hard and shoot them at people. Which..." She shrugged. "I thought was hilarious."

Allison smiled. "Mine was Thomas. He was my cubby buddy in pre-school. I don't remember him really well, just that he always used to share his orange slices with me."

Stiles hummed. "Yeah, Kayla shot spit balls at my head every day... Then she challenged me to a monkey bars race and I won and yeah, we were friends after that." He shrugged. "Somewhere around grade two, we just kind of went our own ways."

Things went on like that for a while, with each of them coming up with something for them to speak on. And even though Malia knew most of the stuff Scott and Stiles shared, occasionally she learned something. And she could see Allison was, too. The longer they talked, the more relaxed she was, the more open she got, and the more she fit herself into their friends group. Even Stiles, who had been a little more reticent to get to know her, let her in just a little.

…

Around lunch time, Malia walked away from the group, leaning against a tree as she thumbed through her phone and read the many text messages Danny had sent her. According to him, Lydia had been MIA all day and he was concerned.

"What's up?" Stiles wondered, walking over to her. "You look worried."

"Danny keeps texting me… Lydia didn't show up in any of her classes and Jackson's being weird. Apparently, he's been edgy and spooked all day."

Stiles shrugged. "Well, he did get chased by a homicidal werewolf."

"Yeah, but does he know that?" Malia looked up at him. "What if he actually saw something? I mean, it was dark and it was hard to make out, but what if when the alpha got outside, Jackson got a better look at it?"

Stiles frowned. "If it happened outside, that means Lydia might've seen something, too."

"Which could explain why she wasn't at school today…" Malia frowned. "What do we do?"

Taking a deep breath, he let it out on a sigh. "Go to the source."

Malia's gaze cut past his shoulder to the fire, where Scott and Allison were talking. "We can't just leave."

"We kind of have to. Look, we can make an excuse, right? Tell her there's an emergency. We can meet up somewhere later. She's already freaked that her dad's going to see her and she'll get in trouble, we can use that so she won't come along."

"And do what? Just drop by Lydia's uninvited?"

He shrugged. "Why not? We'll tell her mom we're Lydia's friends and just wanted to drop in and check on her."

Malia snorted. "And then interrogate her?"

"Subtly, yeah."

Taking a deep breath, Malia let it out on a sigh and nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

"Really?" He looked surprised. "I didn't think you'd go for that."

Malia rolled her eyes. "You're right. If Lydia really did see something, then we need to find out what."

"What happens if she did?" Stiles wondered. "Her or Jackson."

"Then... I don't know. We try to convince them their memory is wrong or something. But the last thing we need is them spreading it around town that it wasn't just a mountain lion."

"Okay." He rubbed his hands together. "So, how do you wanna do this?"

She turned and called out to Scott and Allison. "We're gonna go pick up that ice cream cake."

Allison stood, her brow furrowed. "Are you sure? We could come..."

"It's easier if it's just two of us," Malia said. "That way you don't risk seeing your dad."

Allison winced. "Good point."

Scott frowned from his seat on the log. "How long're you gonna be?"

"Uh..." Stiles looked from Malia and then to him. "Shouldn't be too long."

"Yeah. We'll call you." Malia waved. "Just... stay here. Hang out. Eat your weight in s'mores."

"Ugh, I'm all s'mored out." Allison shook her head.

Stiles tugged at Malia's sleeve. "Okay. So, keep your phone on."

Scott nodded. "Yeah, sure."

Malia and Stiles started walking down the leaf-strewn path, making their way back to where the jeep was parked.

"You think we should pick something up on the way?" Stiles wondered. "Like, 'get well' flowers or a card or something?"

"Sure. We'll get a 'sorry you were traumatized by a werewolf' fern. How does that sound?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "You don't think it'd be a nice gesture?"

"I think it'd be an empty one. We're going to Lydia for information, not to be her shoulder to cry on." Malia shrugged. "I'm sorry she got caught up in all this, but we need to know what she found out, not ply her with gifts."

"We can't do both?" His shoulders hiked. "She could be seriously freaked out."

"Stiles, I get that you have this very serious crush on Lydia, but this is not the vehicle for that, okay?"

He pursed his lips. "What about you?"

She frowned. "What about me?"

"This whole 'take Allison out into the middle of the woods and humanize Scott' thing, playing that info-dump game where Allison sees us as people so it's harder for her to attack us later... You don't think I noticed that?"

"That's not what this is about…"

"Isn't it?" He stared at her knowingly. "Look, I'm not saying you don't like Allison. You do, clearly. But, you can't tell me that part of all this isn't because you're trying to convince her she should pick us over her family... How do you think that's going to play out?"

Malia looked away. "I just want her to have all the facts."

"The fact is... we're lying to her. We know about her family and what they're grooming her to do and we aren't telling her. We— We know about werewolves, that her own boyfriend is one, and we're not telling her that either. What happens when she finds out? Because all the fun little 'get to know me' games and all the ice cream cake in the world isn't going to make that better." He marched off ahead of her then and Malia stared after him.

As much as she wished he wasn't, he was right.

tbc

author's note: so sorry for the late update. things have been hectic and i'm making a trip out of town last minute. this chapter was originally muuuuch longer, but i've split it up, which is why some of the things mentioned in last chapters 'things to look forward to next chapter' are not here. because i've written so much, however, that means i will probably be able to add the next chapter on time this saturday or sunday. :)

i know a few people were really interested in seeing how henry would react to malia's injury, but i had this planned for a while. his reaction will come later, but for now, he's in the dark.

this was also a really allison-heavy chapter, i noticed that while i was editing. but there will be more scalia in the next one!

things to look forward to next chapter: first loves; malia and stiles talk to lydia; derek asks for help; parent-teacher interviews; ANCHORRRS; and heart monitors sure are telling... ;)

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