word count: 14,162
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

VI

Scott couldn't remember whose idea it was, but at some point, he and Allison decided to go for a walk. The woods weren't exactly Scott's second home— an understatement, to be honest. He wasn't great at navigating the preserve, even with the walking paths, but he figured with his heightened senses and as long as they stuck relatively close to the bonfire, they would be okay. By the time they reached the bridge that crossed the creek, he was a little unsure exactly how far they'd wandered from their original position. Depending on what direction they were going, Malia's house wasn't too far from the bridge, but he wasn't completely sure they were walking the right way.

"Hey, you know that game we were playing earlier, when we talked about big milestones in our lives and important people and all that…?" Allison asked, drawing his attention.

"Hm?" His brows hiked as her words seemed to register a few seconds later. "Oh, yeah."

Allison chewed her lip. "First kiss?"

"Uh, her name was Jessie. It was back in like, sixth grade." He shook his head. "It was Valentine's day and she said she really liked the card I picked for her and she asked me to the dance that night. So, I said 'yes' and I ran home, put on my best shirt, which was basically just the one with the least wrinkles, and I met her back at the school. It was pretty normal kid stuff— we danced with like two feet of space between us and my hands were sweating the whole time and... I don't know. There was a slow song and she was staring at me and the next thing I know, she kissed me. We lasted two weeks which, back then, was like forever."

Allison grinned. "That's cute."

Scott nodded. "You?"

"Uh... I was twelve. We were neighbors, did everything together. Including our first kiss, I guess." She smiled. "Her name was Sera."

Scott paused, his eyes wide. "Oh."

"Yeah..." Allison glanced at him awkwardly. "Is that weird for you?"

"No. No!" He shook his head. "My mom is bi. I mean, not that I deserve credit for that or something. I just meant... I don't know what I meant. Maybe just that I'm not going to judge you, I guess. Mom said it was a big deal, like people thought she was selfish or that she just needed to pick one. But, it wasn't like that. She just... liked who she liked."

Allison nodded. "Yeah. I feel the same way."

Scott half-smiled. "Do your parents know?"

"Not really." She rolled her eyes. "They get a little weird if I talk about dating at all. But, Kate knows. She was the first person I told."

He nodded. "You must really trust her."

"Yeah." Her nose wrinkled. "I'm really sorry about that dinner. I know I keep bringing it up and you guys keep telling me it's okay, but... What Kate did, that was just weird and totally not like her. She's apologized to me a bunch, but I can't help feeling like it should be you she's apologizing to."

"It's fine." Scott tucked his hands in his pockets. "Really."

"I just… really don't want to lose everything because of something Kate did. I mean… I look at you and Malia and Stiles and I just… That's what I've always wanted. That connection. Just, people I know will be there, that I can always turn to. And I feel like I'm building that. With Malia, mostly. And Lydia, too. I'd just really hate for it to fall apart before I even really had it."

"I don't think that's going to happen." Scott half-smiled. "At least not with Malia."

"No?"

"No. Malia is…" His brow furrowed. "I think she thinks she keeps people at a distance, but she doesn't. Not really. She's careful about who she lets get close, but once they do… That's it. She'll be your friend for life." He shrugged. "We fight. Her, me, Stiles, we don't always get along. Stuff happens, you know? But, if she cares about you, she'll fight to keep you in her life, too."

"Okay. Well, good." Allison smiled. "Because I want to be."

...

Malia trailed behind Stiles and Natalie Martin, her hands tucked in the pockets of her jacket. The Martin house was, well, expensive looking. Not like a museum, exactly. But like an open house, where someone staged everything to look perfect. It was something right out of a magazine and Malia was worried that if she walked too close to something, she'd get a papercut.

Natalia led them to a closed bedroom door— she knocked gently before she opened it. "Honey, there's a Malia and Stiles here to see you."

On her bed, Lydia was sprawled out in a nightgown, her head propped up on a hand while she admired her nails. "What the hell is a Stiles?"

Natalie laughed awkwardly. "She took a little something to ease her nerves. You can... You can go in."

"Thanks." Stiles stepped in first, Malia just behind him. They glanced back to see that Natalie had left the door open, but walked away down the hall.

Lydia rolled over, a hand braced on her hip. "What are you doing here?" Her brows were raised, but her eyes seemed foggy.

Stiles fiddled with his hands. "We just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh." Lydia smacked her lips, looked away, and then back. "Why?"

"Uhh..." He turned to Malia and shrugged.

Malia rolled her eyes. "Because of Saturday. You remember Saturday, right?"

Lydia hummed and then patted the bed invitingly.

"Don't," Malia told him.

Stiles raised his hands in surrender and stayed standing, keeping his distance.

Circling the bed, Malia came to a stop a few feet from Lydia. "How blitzed out are you right now?"

Lydia pulled a face and then fell back against her pillows, grinning. Without replying, she raised her hands and flattened her palms against the headboard. Her eyes danced around, never quite landing on anything, and then she sighed. "Tate, Tate, Terrrrr…ible Tate."

Malia shook her head. "Yeah, that's me."

"Moody Malia's better."

"I'll drop that in the suggestion box at school." Malia put her hands on her hips. "Look, Lydia, we need to talk about Saturday."

"Why? What happened?"

Malia turned a look on Stiles. "This is stupid. She's wrecked."

"Maybe that's a good thing." He frowned and gave his head a shake. "Okay, gross. Seriously wish I'd thought that one through ahead of time. Uh, what I meant was, maybe she'll be a little more honest about what she saw."

"Who?" Lydia asked, her eyes wide. "Saw what?"

Malia plucked a bottle off the end table, read the label, and then passed it to Stiles.

"Whoa..." Stiles snorted. "I bet you can't say, 'I saw Suzy sittin' in a shoeshine shop' ten times fast."

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him stubbornly. "I saw Shuzy... I shaw... I saw..."

Stiles grinned and passed the bottle back to Malia.

While she was putting it away, she noticed Lydia slump against the bed, her face falling and her gaze distant.

"I saw..."

"What? Lydia, what did you see?" Stiles prompted.

"Something." Her voice fell and she stared at the floor.

"Something like... a mountain lion?"

"A mountain lion," she repeated, nodding.

"Are you sure you saw a mountain lion or are you just saying that because that's what the police told you?"

Her brows hiked. "A mountain lion."

Stiles stared at her a beat and then reached past Malia to grab the stuffed giraffe off Lydia's end table. "What's this?" He held it up for her to see.

Lydia shifted back on her bed and looked straight at it. "A mountain lion."

"O-kay." Stiles sighed and put the giraffe away. "You're so out of it."

Lydia sunk down to the bed once more, face buried against her sheet.

"Yeah, that was great." Malia pursed her lips. "Really solved our problem."

Stiles frowned and crossed his arms. "Do we just leave? What if she wakes up and has more to say?"

"We can't trust anything she says. This was a waste." Malia shook her head. "And we're definitely not hanging around so you can watch her drool."

A ringing noise came from the end table then, drawing their eyes.

Malia plucked Lydia's phone up. 1 New Message stared back at her. Malia swiped at the screen to close it, but all it did was close Lydia's messages and reopen her gallery, where a video was playing. She was about to close it when she realized it was of the video store window and a giant, red-eyed werewolf was crashing through it. "Stiles..." She turned the phone toward him. "We have a problem."

Stiles took the phone from her, his mouth falling open as he played the video. "This is... not good."

That would be an understatement.

…

"I can't believe you made me stop for ice cream cake…" Stiles scowled, pacing his room as he dialed Scott's number, again, but only got the voice mail. "You try. He'll probably pick up for you."

Malia leaned back in his desk chair, legs hooked over the arm, feet dangling. "A) It'd be weird if we met back up with them and didn't have a cake and B) we deserve this cake after everything that's been going on."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Will you just call him, please?"

Sighing, Malia dialed Scott's number and listened to it go to voice mail again. "Maybe his phone died."

"Yeah, maybe. Or maybe he's making out with Allison and too busy to talk to us about the very real problem we're having!" Stabbing Scott's number in again, he let out a sarcastic laugh. "Hey, it's me again. Look, we found something, and we don't know what to do about it, okay? So, if you could turn your phone on right now, that'd be great. Or else, I'll kill you. Do you understand me? I'm gonna kill you. And I'm too upset to come up with a witty description about how, exactly, I'm gonna do it, but I just am, okay? I'm gonna— ugh. Goodbye." He threw his phone on the bed and tipped his head back, sighing irritably.

A knock echoed from the door then and Stiles jumped, whirling around to find his dad lingering in the doorway.

Sheriff Stilinski half-grinned. "Malia, how are you feeling?"

"Good. Haven't popped a stitch yet."

"Let's keep that 'yet' at 'not at all.'"

Malia saluted him. "I'll try my best."

Shaking his head, he turned to Stiles. "Hey, please tell me I'm gonna hear good news at this parent/teacher thing tonight."

Stiles' eyes widened and he waved his hands around awkwardly. "Depends on how you define 'good news.'"

The Sheriff's tone was hopeful. "I define it as you getting straight A's with no behavioural issues."

Stiles nodded, his shoulders hiked. Wincing, he said, "You might want to rethink that description."

"'Nuff said." Sheriff Stilinski turned from the door to walk away.

Malia leaned back in her chair and turned Lydia's phone over in her hands. "Maybe she never watched it... Or maybe she only watched it while she was high."

Stiles shook his head. "Or maybe she watched it and that's what's causing her PTSD."

Tapping the phone against her chin, Malia sighed. "The only way to find out is to ask her when she isn't on half a drug store."

Stiles scooped his phone up from his bed and plopped down on the corner of it. "He should be here. We should be working on all of this together."

Malia nodded. "Then let's go back to the preserve. Maybe they're just sitting around the firepit, waiting for us."

Standing, he shoved his phone in his pocket. "Yeah, okay, let's go." As he walked out the door, he said, "You wanna bring the cake, too?"

Malia smirked. "We can drop it off at my house on the way. Wouldn't want it to go to waste…"

…

"I don't want to freak you out, but... I think we're lost." Scott turned around in a circle, his brow furrowed.

"How lost?" Allison worried.

He winced. "It doesn't look great... I mean, if we can get back to a trail, we should be able to find our way out, but..." He shook his head. "Malia knows these trails a lot better than me. I didn't do a whole lot of hiking when my asthma was really bad."

"Okay." Allison put her hands on her hips and sighed. "So, we find a trail and hope for the best?"

"Pretty much." He dug his phone out of his pocket and frowned. "I'm out of range, how about you?"

Allison checked her own phone and sighed. "Me, too."

Nodding, he started through the trees, looking around for any sign of joggers or path markers. "Kind of messes up your birthday, huh?"

"No, not at all. That's kind of the fun part, right? When you tell the story later, stuff like this makes it even more interesting."

"Yeah, I guess." He hopped over a log and reached back to help her over.

"It's like when you and Malia became friends. You didn't like each other, but then the movie happened and, even then, you were awkward and quiet. But, all it took was a question and everything fell into place. Things don't always have to be perfect, but they still find a way to fit."

"Has that ever happened for you?"

Allison half-smiled. "Maybe with Lydia. She just kind of appeared and decided we were friends. Before that, everything was always so temporary. It felt like as soon as I got comfortable, I had to leave."

Scott hummed. "Do you think this time'll be different?"

"I hope so, yeah." She crossed her arms. "What about you? Where do you think your life is headed?"

His brow furrowed. "Finish out school, get into a good college, become a vet... That's the basic life plan."

"Yeah, what about Stiles and Malia?"

He paused. "What do you mean?"

"Will they go with you or...?"

"Stiles is probably headed to Washington. He wants to join the FBI. And Malia... She's still figuring out what she wants to do."

Allison nodded. "Do you think you'll stay in touch?"

"With them? Yeah, definitely." He grinned. "I don't know who I'd be without them. I mean, I'd still be me, obviously, but... maybe just emptier. Stiles is like my brother. He, uh, I don't know, he just, he's always been there."

"And Malia?"

"Malia's different."

"Special."

"Yeah." He laughed under his breath. "Yeah, she is."

Allison stared at his profile a long moment. "She was your first love, wasn't she?"

Scott stumbled, nearly tripping over his feet. Catching himself, he whipped around to face her, his eyes wide. "What?" His voice raised in pitch. "Uh..."

Allison smiled slowly. "I get it. She's kind of awesome." She looked at him knowingly. "It's hard to fall out of love with someone when you're around them every day."

Scott's brow furrowed. "Malia isn't..." Panic filled his chest, a cold rush that made his lungs squeeze. "She doesn't..."

He wasn't sure what he was trying to say. Words crawled across his tongue, only to be swallowed down a hollow throat, tumbling down his chest past quick beating lungs. And then, it stopped. The panic ebbed and in its place was something different. He'd never had anyone he could talk to about this— about her. As much as Stiles was his brother, he was Malia's best friend, too. And there were just some things that couldn't be said, some lines that couldn't be crossed. But here was Allison, looking at him with knowing understanding. Scott felt the dam break and a flood was released in its wake.

He sighed, his shoulders falling. "The first time we met, she gave me the stink-eye the whole time. She hated me on sight. And... it sucked. I was ten though, you know? I wasn't thinking about love or anything like that. She was just this girl that Stiles really liked and he wanted us to be friends, so… I tried. It took a while, a lot longer than I thought, but, it worked. And then a few years go by and we get a little older and... She's one of my best friends. Only it's not like it is with Stiles. It's just, it's different with Malia. I— I can talk to her about things I couldn't talk to Stiles or my mom about. And she… She's so good and smart and I know she doesn't think she is, but I've seen it. She cares so much, even when she doesn't want to. And…

"I don't know when it changed, just when I noticed it. I was thirteen, I had the flu, and I was half-delirious. I was out of school all week and I just wasn't getting better. I had a fever and I was in and out. It sucked. Everything hurt and I was stuck at home alone. And then I woke up on the couch and she was right there, eating Cherry Garcia ice cream…" A slow, soft smile turned up the corner of his mouth. "I thought I was dreaming. She was just so... beautiful. She had ice cream on her chin and she didn't notice. When I reached out to wipe it away, she slapped my hand, 'cause she thought I was trying to steal the carton from her." He shook his head. "She spent the whole day with me. We played video games and we talked and I almost didn't want to get better, because I liked having her there. I liked how it felt when it was just us." His brow furrowed. "I still feel that way."

Allison stared at him. "You never told her."

"No. I— I was embarrassed and..." He sighed. "I didn't want to lose her. She thought I was a dork from the moment we met. She used to tell me that, all the time. And she called me bucket-head for like a month. I know we're older and I know she cares about me, but I don't think her feelings for me have ever changed. It doesn't matter that my asthma's gone or that I made first line, I'm still just Scott to her."

Allison looked skeptical. "She doesn't think you're a dork."

"She's literally called me that."

"Yeah, but that's how she shows affection." Her brows hiked. "Scott, you're one of Malia's favorite people."

"I'm one of her favorite friends. And it's okay, I get it." His eyes widened. "I'm lucky to be her friend, that doesn't bother me. I just... I tried to get over her. I've liked other people. I just... It always comes back to her. It's like you said— we're around each other, every day, and I just… Every time I think I'm over her, she does something or she says something or I just look at her, and I'm right back at the beginning."

Allison nodded.

He shook his head then. "But, I don't want you to think that I was using you or something. I really thought we clicked and I do like you."

"I like you, too. And I think we have fun together." She paused then and stared at him searchingly. "You're sure she doesn't have feelings for you?"

"Pretty sure, yeah. I mean, I'd notice that, right?"

Allison chewed her lip. "I don't know. I just… I remember that night at the clinic, when you asked me to go to Lydia's party with you. I asked her if there was anything between you, she said you were just friends, but…"

"But, what?"

"She hesitated."

Scott stared at her.

"I'm not trying to get your hopes up and I have no real proof or anything."

"Yeah, sure. I…" He sighed. "It's like I said. I'm trying to get over her."

"I know. The things is… As much as I like you, I don't think the spark is the same, you know?"

"I get it."

Allison shrugged. "Maybe Malia had the right idea... with Cole."

Scott stared at her, his forehead wrinkled. "You mean, friends with benefits?"

"Yeah. Just, nothing serious. I don't know. It could be fun, right? No expectations or strings or anything like that. We just... hang out sometimes and make out, if we feel like it. But... Look, I never planned on this. I wasn't going to date. I just wanted to make friends and be normal but, when you asked me out, I was excited. I still am. I just think maybe we're not the right fit. You know what I mean? Like... What you feel for Malia, that's intense and deep and... I don't think it's going away anytime soon."

Scott's head fell back. "Are you breaking up with me on your birthday?"

"Better mine than yours." Allison laughed lightly. "And it's not a break up, not really. We only had a few dates and... like I said, I think we could still have fun together. It just doesn't have to be serious."

"And you're okay with that?" Scott raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You don't hate me?"

"I actually think you're a really good guy. And even without the benefits, I think we could be good friends."

Scott nodded slowly. "I think so, too. About the friends part."

Stepping closer, she narrowed her eyes and grinned. "Is that a yes to the benefits then...?"

He grinned. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

She laughed lightly. "One rule though... We have to be honest with each other. If either of us wants to stop and just be friends, we say so."

"Okay. Yeah, good idea."

"Great." She held a hand out. "Shake on it?"

He smiled and took her hand. "Seems a little formal."

"Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow. "Kiss on it then?"

Scott tugged her closer, but stopped short. "Maybe we should save that for after we find our way out of here."

Chuckling, she nodded. "Smart."

…

After dropping the cake off at her house, Malia walked outside, only to find a shirtless Derek standing on her porch. "Seriously?"

He frowned. "I have a problem."

"Is it that you don't have change for the laundromat and all your shirts are sitting in a dryer somewhere?"

Rolling his eyes, he said, "Kate Argent just attacked me at my house."

"What?" Malia stood a little straighter, her eyes wide. "Just like, out in broad daylight."

"I live in the middle of the woods. I don't think a lot of people heard the gunshots."

"She had a gun?"

"She had a couple thugs, guns, and a taser. She didn't exactly drop by for tea." Sighing, he leaned back against the pillar of her porch and crossed his arms. "I need somewhere to hide. At least until I know she isn't hanging around."

Malia nodded. "Yeah, sure. You can hang out in my room. My dad won't be back for a while and, after that, he'll be at the school. We have parent/teacher interviews tonight."

Derek hummed.

"If you're hungry, there's KD in the cupboard or whatever you need for a sandwich. Just don't touch the ice cream cake in the freezer." Malia walked down the porch stairs. "Hey, when you were running through the woods, did you happen to see Scott or Allison?"

He frowned. "No. Why?"

"We're just having some trouble finding them. We came out for this birthday thing and..." She shook her head. "I'll fill you in later."

Derek nodded and then moved to the door. "Should I lock this?"

"Yeah." Malia walked backwards toward Stiles' jeep. "He'll notice if you don't." Pivoting on her heel, she hurried back to the jeep and hopped inside. "Let's go."

Stiles' hands flipped up from the steering wheel. "What the hell is Derek doing here?"

"Hiding. Come on, we're running out of time."

Stiles backed the jeep up. "What do we do if they're not at the bonfire site?"

Malia shrugged. "I don't know. Look for them, I guess."

Stiles frowned. "And if we don't find them?"

"We keep an eye on the time. If it gets too late, we head to the school. Scott's a werewolf, he can probably sniff his way out. Right?"

Snorting, Stiles looked skeptical, but offered no counter.

…

It was dark by the time Scott and Allison found their way back to her car.

Hands resting atop the steering wheel, Allison said, "So, being completely honest, this was a strange but awesome birthday. I think we can definitely chalk it up to 'memorable.'"

"Good. I'm glad."

Allison nodded, smiling. "I don't know where Malia and Stiles are, but do you think they saved us any of that ice cream cake?"

"Knowing Malia…" His brows hiked. "No."

She snorted a laugh. "Actually, I just realized she's probably at the school. For parent/teacher interviews."

"Oh, God!" Scott sat up abruptly, his eyes wide. "The parent/teacher conferences. I'm supposed to be there." Wincing, he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. "I'm below 'C' on, like, everything."

"Well, they're going on now." Allison glanced at the time on her dash. "Right now."

...

Malia sighed as she sat in front of Mr. Matthews, her arms crossed and her knee bouncing irritably. Stiles had dropped her off nearly an hour ago and she was still waiting on her dad to show. She glanced at the clock on the wall for the third time and ground her teeth. Math was the only class she really needed to be there for. She wasn't sure where her grade currently was, but it hadn't started out encouraging. She was maintaining a solid 'B' in her other classes, but this one always managed to kick her ass.

"Are you sure your father is coming, Miss. Tate?"

Malia dropped her arms and dug in her pocket for her phone. "Look, he's been working a lot lately and it probably slipped his mind. So just… I can record it, okay? Whatever you have to say, I'll make sure he gets it." She dug around in her phone for the recorder app and then dropped the phone on the desk between them.

Mr. Matthews stared at her a long beat and then nodded. "An exception, just this once." Clearing his throat, he said, "Malia has been one of my more challenging students…"

Malia winced and turned her gaze away, focusing on a spot on the wall. Criticism never sat well with her. Instead, it twisted up her stomach into knots, leaving time bombs that would inevitably go off when she was alone, replaying every negative word in her head.

"It would be an understatement to say that she and math have a… complicated relationship."

She managed to swallow the urge to snort.

"However… She's made great strides since the beginning of the year. She took the initiative to get tutoring and it shows in her grades. I'm impressed with the work she's put in and I can see that she's taking her schooling seriously."

Malia's head whipped around abruptly, her brows hiked.

Mr. Matthews stared at her knowingly. "It can be easy to write off a student when it comes to certain things. While I don't think you'll be winning any Fields medals anytime soon, I do think that you've come a long way, and I only see further improvement ahead of you." He paused. "At least as long as you continue to come to class."

Malia's mood rose and then dipped. "Yeah, uh, sorry about today. There was an accident on Saturday and I had to get stitches. I skipped the pain meds and it might've been a mistake."

Nodding, Matthews closed a file in front of him. "I'm sorry to hear that. And I hope you'll try to be in class in future. Your grades have been picking up and I'm glad to see it, but if you want to keep them that way, you have to stick to the path you've set yourself on. It can be easy to backslide— distractions are all around us. But as much as I know you don't like math, it's necessary."

Malia nodded. "Okay. So… is that all?"

He half-smiled, amused. "That's all."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, she hopped up from her seat and grabbed her phone. "Great. Thanks." She made her way to the door, where she paused, and looked back. "See you tomorrow."

Matthews nodded. "See you then."

Hurrying out the door, Malia quickly made her way down the hall, and outside. She had her phone out and was thumbing in a text to Stiles, letting him know she was done at the conference and was hoping he might give her a ride home.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. —'a ride? where's your dad?'

Malia sighed and dipped her head back. —'he didn't show'

Stiles was quick to respond— 'what?'

—'never mind. i'm on my way!'

Half-smiling, she sent back a thumbs-up emoji. —'the parking lot is packed, meet me by the corner, before you turn in'

She started down the walkway and tucked her phone in her pocket. Just as she did, however, she heard screams. Malia pivoted on her heel, her brow furrowed. The parking lot suddenly broke out into a frenzy, with people darting to and fro. Some climbed into their vehicles, while others just raced toward the school. Malia backed up, her gaze darting around, searching for the source of everybody's fear, but she couldn't spot anything specific.

And then she heard it—

A growl.

Malia's heartrate picked up. She started back in the direction she came, weaving around people and cars, all the while searching for where the noise had come from. Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, but as soon as she looked, it was gone. It was just like in the video store— whatever it was, it moved quick. But attacking people out in the open like this was suicide, wasn't it? The alpha had purposely attacked the last two victims in isolated areas with a limited audience… Or was that just coincidence?

Malia picked up her pace, only to get knocked in the shoulder by a man, sending her careening into a parked car. She slammed into the trunk and her stitched side lit up; pain ricocheted all down her side. Malia bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she pushed off the car, kept a hand wrapped around her side, and started moving again.

"Allison!"

Malia turned toward the voice— in the distance, she could see Scott, an arm around Allison's waist as they huddled close to Victoria Argent, out of danger from the chaotic traffic. Malia felt relief flood her chest and darted toward them, pausing when she saw something run past her. She stopped and turned on her heel, searching for it. A dark mass disappeared behind a car and she clenched her teeth. A part of her wanted to chase it, to keep her eyes on it rather than to let it chase and avoid and scare her and the others. She took a step in its direction.

"Move!"

Malia looked up, only to see Sheriff Stilinski waving people out of the way while he raced closer to danger. Honking horns and scared shrieking came from every direction. Abandoning her (probably idiotic) plan to follow what she was pretty sure was the alpha, Malia started toward the Sheriff instead. Why, she wasn't sure. It wasn't that she expected him to keep her safe, even if that was technically his job. It was more that, well, he was Stiles' dad. But, what could she do? Convince him to keep his distance? He was the Sheriff, there was no way he'd go for that. But she couldn't just abandon him out here when she knew something a lot deadlier than the average criminal was running around.

A car backed out abruptly, clipping Sheriff Stilinski. Her heart jumped in her chest as she watched him collapse to the ground. Malia broke out in a run, avoiding cars and people alike. She fell to a knee next to him even as he was pushing himself upright.

He frowned. "Malia?"

"Are you okay?" She caught his arm and stared at him searchingly. "You probably shouldn't move."

"I don't have a choice right now." His gaze darted past her. "Find cover, get somewhere safe."

Malia shook her head. "I can't leave you out here. These people are nuts, they'll run you over."

He raised a knee and reached down, hooking his hand around a gun tucked in an ankle holster. "I'll be fine." His brows hiked. "Now go!"

Malia hesitated.

Two gunshots suddenly broke out and Malia flinched. Heart lodged in her throat, she turned to look.

Chris Argent stood in the distance, holding a gun.

Everything went quiet then. Everyone in the middle of fleeing, stopped. They turned back and convened on an unmoving mass laying in the damp parking lot.

Malia stayed with Sheriff Stilinski, but she could see, as the crowd parted, what looked like—

A mountain lion.

Her brow furrowed.

What a perfect cover, she thought. But, who provided it?

"Malia!"

Her gaze darted to the left, only to see Scott pushing through the crowd, ducking under arms and weaving around strangers. Warmth spread along her chest and she stood, nodding before he'd even finished asking.

He reached for her, his hands finding her forearms and squeezing gently as he looked her over. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Seriously." Malia turned her attention to Sheriff Stilinski. "He got hit by a car though."

Scott's eyes widened. "What?"

"I'm fine, really." Sheriff Stilinski waved it off, but hadn't yet climbed from the ground.

Melissa made her way over then and crouched down beside him. "Try not to move so much. I already called 911."

He sighed. "You didn't have to. It was barely even a bump."

"It was way more than a bump," Malia argued.

He sent her a flat look.

Malia shrugged. "Stiles will worry. You should see a paramedic. You made me go when I needed stitches." Speaking of, her side felt more than a little tight.

"Different circumstances," he muttered, but eventually sighed. "All right. I'll wait for paramedics." He took a look around. "Preferably without the crowd."

Allison appeared then, hugging her arms to her chest as she looked at Malia. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, totally." Malia snorted. "Especially now that I know you two aren't still lost in the woods."

Scott's brow wrinkled. "How'd you know we got lost?"

"I was semi-joking. Did you seriously get lost?" She looked between them. "We called you a bunch of times, we weren't sure if your phone was dead or—"

"We were out of range. By the time we found a path and got back to the car, it was already dark."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Remind me never to leave you guys alone in the woods again."

Scott half-smiled. "I will."

Allison reached for her, hand gently wrapping around Malia's arm. "Not to downplay the craziness of tonight, but… Ice cream cake?"

Malia laughed. "Still safely tucked away in my freezer." She looked past Allison to a stiff and irritable looking Chris Argent. "Not that I think you're going to get a chance to eat it anytime soon… Your dad looks pissed."

Allison winced. "Yeah. He found out we skipped." She sent her eyes upward. "He's not happy."

"He's not the only one." Melissa stared up at them from where she was croucher, her hands on her knees. "You and me are going to have a very serious talk," she said to Scott, before turning a look on Malia. "You, too."

Malia winced. "Can I claim temporary insanity due to the attack on Saturday?"

"No. But you can ask for leniency."

Malia smothered a smile. "Duly noted."

"Allison," Chris' rough voice called out.

Allison sighed. "I should go." She backed up. "Text me later?" she asked Malia.

Malia nodded. "Yeah. Try not to get grounded."

Snorting, Allison grinned. Which she quickly hid as she turned to face her parents.

As the Argent family walked off in a tight cluster, Malia turned to Scott, who was still holding onto her, his thumbs gently rubbing circles against her forearms. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, just… That was intense, right?"

Malia looked past him, to where the wounded and dying mountain lion laid. "Yeah. Definitely."

Sirens could be heard in the distance then.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and Malia dug it out. Stiles had texted her. —'almost there. any idea why an ambulance is headed in the same direction?'

Malia sighed, her shoulders slumping. Shit.

—'i'm freaking out a little here. what's going on?'

Thumbing Stiles' name in her contacts, Malia raised the phone to her ear and waited for it to ring through.

"Okay, calling me is not making me less stressed," he answered. "What happened? Are you hurt? Is it Scott? Did he shift or something?"

"A mountain lion showed up in the parking lot, it was chasing people. Your dad was trying to help, but everyone was getting in the way. They were scared and—"

"Malia," he interrupted, his voice thick and shaking. "Where's my dad?"

"He's fine. I promise. He just had a small accident. He was clipped by a car, but he's awake and complaining and Melissa's here. She's keeping an eye on him."

Stiles let out a shaky breath. "Okay. All right. I- I'm almost there. Just… Stay with him. Please?"

"Of course. I'm not going anywhere."

"Two minutes, maybe three, that's it."

"Stiles… Take a breath, okay? He's fine. I can put him on the phone if you want."

"Yeah, yeah, do that."

Malia nodded and stepped back. She turned on her speaker phone and teld the Sheriff, "Stiles wants to know you're okay."

"I'm fine." He raised his voice enough for the speaker to catch it. "Everyone is overreacting."

"Sure, yeah, of course they are!" Stiles scoffed. "It couldn't be that you were actually hurt and people are reacting normally or anything."

"Son, I've been hit a lot worse than this. Paramedics are on the way, but I'm already expecting a clean bill of health, okay?"

Stiles took a beat and then said, "I'm on my way." With that, he hung up.

Malia looked back at Scott, whose face was twisted up.

Glancing at the Sheriff, who was being well looked after, she reached for Scott's arm and pulled him away from the others. "What's wrong? You look like nauseas."

"This is my fault."

Her brow furrowed. "What? How?"

"I could've done something. I should've. I was trying to find it, but there was so much noise and so many people and I couldn't concentrate. And then Allison nearly got run over and—"

"Scott, it's fine."

"It's not." He shook his head. "It's just like Saturday, only I was actually here and I still didn't do anything."

"You tried."

"Is that enough?" He frowned. "I feel like I should be doing more. That I should know more about what all of this means."

"Okay." She nodded. "Then, we can talk to Derek. He can start pulling his weight on teaching you Werewolf 101."

Scott sighed. "Stiles is going to kill me."

Speaking of, Malia could see Stiles' jeep pull into the parking lot, just behind an ambulance. "He's worried and a lot happened while you were in the woods. But, we can figure this out. Just give him some space to be upset." She shrugged. "It's his dad."

Scott nodded. He hooked his arm around her then and tugged her to the side, out of the way, as the ambulance stopped and the paramedics hopped out, making their way to Sheriff Stilinski.

"Dad!" Stiles parked crookedly, barely closing his door behind him, before he raced across the pavement. "Dad!"

"I'm here, I'm all right," Sheriff Stilinski called back.

Malia pulled Scott with her toward Stiles, watching as the paramedics put a brace on the Sherriff's neck, turned him over onto a float board, and then loaded him on a gurney to be brought to the ambulance.

"That's not good, right?" Stiles worried. "That's a bad sign?"

"They're just being careful," Melissa reassured him, rubbing his arm before she followed after the paramedics.

Malia reached out and hooked a hand around Stiles'.

He squeezed tightly and turned to face her, his eyes darting wildly as he shook his head. "I— I don't get it. What happened?"

Malia looked from him to Scott. "We need to talk. All of us."

Together, they made their way to the jeep and climbed inside. Malia and Stiles needed to let Scott know about the video on Lydia's phone, and Scott and Malia needed to fill Stiles in on the strange parking lot attack. Her hope was that Stiles would see that this was an unforeseen problem— one they couldn't predict, but that they would prepare for better in time. Yes, his dad was injured, but the fault for that fell on mass hysteria, not Scott.

Stiles' hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Where were you?" he wondered, his voice pitched low.

Scott glanced at Malia quickly. "I told you. We got lost in the woods—"

"Not just then. Even though we told you to keep your phone on— you knew we were going to do something. What if we needed your help? Huh?"

"I had no idea what you were doing," Scott defended. "You said you were going to get the cake, not to interrogate Lydia."

"And you couldn't use your furry ears to listen in on what we were talking about?"

Scott frowned. "I can't always use my hearing. It comes and goes. And I didn't think you'd want me listening in."

"It wasn't suspicious to you when we made you guys stay?"

"I don't know." Scott shrugged. "Look, I'm sorry I wasn't there and that I got lost and I missed your calls. If I'd known it was serious—"

"Of course it's serious. Everything is serious. We're dealing with a homicidal freaking werewolf!"

"Yeah, well, I thought we were just hanging out and trying to give Allison a good birthday." Scott sighed. "What happened tonight was a mistake. You know I'd never let your dad get hurt, not if I could help it. But I'm still figuring out what I can do and how to control it. I would've stopped it, I would've helped him, if I knew how."

"Yeah, well, while you were hanging out with Allison, me and Malia were trying to figure out who saw what and how to keep this werewolf secret wrapped up. And while you were saving Allison, my dad was hit by a car with no one looking out for him."

"Stiles..." Malia stared at him.

"Am I wrong?" Stiles' brows hiked. "Allison is an Argent. She's a literal werewolf hunter and you two are both getting way too cozy with her. At least Malia recognizes that she's a threat and is trying to do something about it. But you're still dating her, Scott."

Malia shook her head. "Allison isn't the problem here."

"Isn't she? Even if she's not the main problem, she's still a part of it." Stiles threw his hands up. "At some point, you're going to have to figure out where your loyalty is."

Scott frowned. "What...?"

"Priorities, Scott. What are yours?"

"Are you saying I should've let Allison be run over?"

"If it means saving my dad then, yeah." Stiles nodded. "Maybe I am."

Scott's brow furrowed. "I don't want to pick and choose anyone. If I can, I want to save everybody."

"That's really noble and idealistic, but the world doesn't work like that. At some point, you make a choice, and it looks like yours is Allison."

"That's not fair. I was closer to Allison. I— I didn't even know where your dad was! You weren't here, the parking lot was crazy!"

"It was," Malia agreed. "People were running everywhere, screaming, nearly trampling everyone in sight. I didn't even see your dad until he was hit."

"Yeah, well, you don't have super senses." Stiles turned his gaze ahead, to the ambulance, and rubbed a hand over his forehead. "I need to take Malia home. You should probably get a ride with your mom."

Scott stared at him a long beat, hesitating to leave.

"Will you go? Please?" He flipped his hand up from the steering wheel.

Scott's shoulders slumped. He looked back at Malia and then reached for the door, pushing it open and climbing out.

Malia watched him go, his head down in defeat.

"Don't defend him," Stiles said. "Not right now, all right? My dad is wearing a neck brace and I— I'm pissed, okay? I get to be pissed."

"Yeah, you do," she agreed. "Just make sure it's at the right person."

He looked back at her through the mirror. "Maybe it's not. Maybe it's displaced and Scott doesn't deserve it. But right now, I'm mad and I'm scared and I need you to be in my corner. So just..." He clenched his teeth. "Can you do that?"

Leaning forward, she hooked a hand around his shoulder. "I can do that."

"Okay. Good." He nodded and cleared his throat. "I can't lose my dad, Malia."

"He's tough, he's gonna be all right."

Licking his lips, Stiles nodded, but stared ahead, blinking quickly.

When Melissa appeared at the window and knocked, he cleared his throat and rolled it down. "Hey. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. He's gonna have a nasty bruise, looks like there's some soft tissue damage, but he'll live. They're gonna take him in for x-rays just to be sure, but I don't think they'll find anything." Melissa smiled. "He wanted me to tell you he's fine, but that he'll be late getting home."

Deflating with relief, Stiles nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

"Sure." She looked from him to Malia. "Any ideas where my son is?"

"Pretty sure he's waiting for you at your car. I'm gonna give Malia a ride home."

"All right." Melissa tapped the door. "Drive safe. And... Malia?"

"Yeah?"

"We're still going to talk about you skipping today."

Malia smiled sarcastically. "Great."

With a grin, Melissa waved, and then turned and walked away.

Groaning, Malia fell back against her seat. "How are you the only one not getting in trouble for this?"

"I was smart and didn't come to the interviews." Stiles put his jeep in gear and started backing up. "Dad can fill me in on my teacher's ringing disapproval later."

She chewed her lip. "Are you feeling a little better now that you know he's okay?"

"Slightly, yeah." He checked both directions before pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road. "I'm still mad though. Scott has supernatural abilities— strength, speed, sight— and he couldn't help my dad?"

"You think he's not beating himself up over that? Stiles, the last thing he wants is for anybody he cares about to get hurt, and that includes your dad." She shook her head. "He's not perfect and he's figuring things out, so maybe we should cut him some slack."

"I will. Just as soon as I know he's doing the right thing for the right reasons."

She sighed, exasperated. "Is this seriously about Allison?"

"What if it was you? Huh? What if a car was coming at you and Allison at the same time on opposite ends of a parking lot? Who does he save? Who does he look out for first?"

Malia frowned. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters! Are you serious!?"

"Knowing Scott, whoever he picks, he'll end up hating himself for not saving the other person, too." She stared at him. "Anyway, that's a shitty position for anybody to be in and it shouldn't be like that. It doesn't have to be either or, and it's not just Scott that has to help people. We're a team. If I'd seen your dad, if I was closer, I would've done something. But I wasn't and he got hurt and I feel awful about that. Right now, I'm just glad he's okay. Maybe next time, we're faster or we know what the hell is going on."

"Maybe." He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.

"And for the record...?" She raised an eyebrow. "I'm always on your side. Even if we don't agree on something, or you're being a complete jerk, I'm always going to be there for you."

Stiles nodded, licking his lips. "Yeah. I, uh… I know."

"Good." Malia paused a beat and then crawled forward and dropped herself into the passenger seat. "You wanna hang out and eat ice cream cake at my place?"

He snorted. "Maybe tomorrow."

"It's hilarious that you think there'll still be leftover cake by then."

…

The house was dark when Malia returned home, but her dad's truck was there, so she knew he'd made it back at some point. Shaking her head, she went inside. The couch was empty when she passed it, the TV off, and his bedroom door was closed. Walking to her own room, she waffled between wanting to slam doors and choosing to just add this to the pile of screw ups he only ever seemed to add to. Kicking her shoes off, she reached for the end of her shirt, ready to throw on some PJs and get some sleep. A clearing throat stopped her. Her back prickled with the sudden awareness that someone was in her room.

The bedside lamp flicked on and Derek stared back at her, a brow raised. Shiloh was curled up on the floor, head resting on his foot. Apparently, she liked Derek now. "I'm guessing parent/teacher interviews didn't go according to plan."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Malia released her shirt and rolled her eyes. "Not exactly…" She eyed him. "Any ideas why a mountain lion would start chasing people through the school parking lot?"

He frowned. "A mountain lion?"

"Yeah. Weird coincidence, right?" She moved to her dresser to dig out a pair of pajamas. "Chris Argent killed it, by the way. He went full Clint Eastwood and shot it while everybody was freaking out. What kind of parent shows up at the school with a glock? That's nuts."

"He's not your average parent."

"Obviously." She moved to the foot of her bed and took a seat, wincing as her side pulled.

Derek sat across from her in her desk chair, his head turned, gaze distant.

"Stiles' dad was hit by a car while he was trying to help," she told him. "He's blaming Scott for not helping. And Scott is blaming himself for not knowing how all of these werewolf 'powers' work."

Derek looked back at her, frowning. "Scott should've kept his head down anyway. If the Argents were there and they saw him trying to do something, they might figure it out."

"Even if it means letting someone get hurt?"

"The Argents don't care that he wants to be a hero. All they care about is that he's a werewolf. They'll put him down just as easy as they did that mountain lion."

Malia pursed her lips. "Whatever. The point is that you need to help Scott figure out what he's doing. You want his help finding the alpha, then you need to show him how it all works. Because as much as we're trying, we don't know everything. And the worse things get, the more he needs that help."

Derek inhaled deeply and let it out through his nose. "If he wants my help, then why is it always you asking for it?"

"Because he doesn't like you. I'm not even sure he trusts you. You already know that; that's why you keep coming to me first. So…" She stared at him, her brows hiked. "What're you gonna do?"

He didn't answer right away, but eventually gave a short, sharp nod. "Tomorrow."

"Fine." She pushed off the bed, a flicker of pain flashing across her face, and started for the bathroom door.

"Wait." He reached for her, his hand finding her wrist. Black veins rippled up his forearm and he scowled. "What happened?"

She stared down at his hand and then shook him off. "Nothing."

"You're in pain." He tipped his head up and stared at her, brow knit. "Was it the mountain lion?"

"No." She shook her head. "People were freaking out, trying to get to safety— I was collateral damage. It's fine. I just knocked into a car, it'll bruise but it'll heal."

"Which side?"

"What?"

"Did it pull your stitches?" His eyes narrowed. "I don't smell blood."

"Okay, keep your nose to yourself, Fido." She glared. "I didn't pull my stitches, but it doesn't feel great. I'm going to take a shower and get some sleep. It doesn't hurt that bad."

Derek frowned. "But, it hurts?"

"So do cramps, you wanna drop by in a few weeks and hold my hand then?"

He rolled his eyes.

Malia backed up toward her bathroom door. "Seriously, I'm fine. Thanks for worrying." She waved a thumb at the door. "You can stay in Kylie's room if you want."

She had just turned around when his voice had her pausing—

"You dad was here. He never went to the interviews."

Malia stared at the linoleum floor of her bathroom— an outdated orange floral pattern. "He forgot, it happens."

"He got drunk and sang along to Fleetwood Mac for a couple hours."

She closed her eyes.

"Maybe it's none of my business—"

"You're right. It isn't." She walked into the bathroom and closed the door roughly behind her, pressing her back against it and letting out an unsteady breath. Anger and humiliation warred inside of her. Trying not to think about it, that her dad had missed yet another important date, she dropped her PJs on the counter, turned the shower on, and started stripping down. It wasn't until she was standing under the hot spray that she let the tears out— more of frustration than anything. It was one thing to tell people that her dad was busy or that he was trying, it was another to know that Derek had witnessed her dad's inability to remember her. Knowing that he sat in her room, listening to her dad's drunken singing, his grief on full display, made her feel exposed and vulnerable in a way that she hated.

She didn't leave her shower until the water had lost its heat. She was all cried out by that point and exhaustion was quick to swamp her. Drying herself off, she checked her stitches. Her side was bruised, both from Saturday and tonight, but her stitches were holding. The skin was red and puffy, but then, so was the rest of her. She might've left the water a little too hot. Pulling on her pajamas, she ran a comb through her hair and bundled her clothes and towel together.

When she stepped out of her bathroom, she found her bedroom empty. Assuming Derek had taken the offer and was in Kylie's room, Malia tossed her clothes in the laundry basket and then crawled into bed.

She plugged her phone in and noticed she had a few texts from Scott waiting— 'hey, are you up?'

—'i can't stop thinking about it. stiles is right! i should've done something!'

—'do you think he'll forgive me?'

Sighing, Malia texted back— 'of course he will. he's just worried.' She paused before adding— 'i talked to derek, he said he'll help you learn how to use your senses better'

Scott texted back soon after— 'talked to him when?'

Biting her lip, she replied— 'he's kind of staying with me. i forgot to mention that kate attacked his house. he needed somewhere to hide…'

Malia could practically hear Scott's voice in her head when his text arrived. —'and you offered your place!? What if kate finds out he's there? what if she thinks you're with him? that you're a werewolf too!?'

She winced. —'i live in the middle of nowhere. i doubt she'll think he's hiding here. anyway it's probably just for tonight. i had to do something. she was shooting at him!'

Scott started and stopped texting multiple times, the bubble popping up and disappearing frequently. Until, eventually, he texted—'just be careful. please!'

She half-smiled. —'i will.' She added— 'it's late. talk more tomorrow?'

He replied— 'sure. night!' and added a heart emoji.

Malia shook her head, sent a heart back, and then put her phone on her bedside table and turned over.

Shiloh appeared next to the bed then, resting her head on the mattress and staring up at Malia with sad, hopeful eyes.

Amused, Malia patted the space next to her and Shiloh hopped up, walking in a circle before flopping down next to her.

…

Come morning, Derek was gone. He left the same salt shaker behind, a sign that he'd stayed, she guessed. He seemed partial to the misshapen cat; a little ironic, in her opinion. Malia caught a ride to school with Stiles, texting with Allison about her recent grounding on the way. Parked in front of the school, she searched out Scott's bike as she and Stiles left the jeep. It wasn't there yet.

"Your dad's okay, though? Just sore?"

"Yeah. He's pretty bruised up and he winces when he walks, but he's okay."

Malia nodded. "So, what's this mean for you and Scott?"

Stiles sighed. "I don't know, okay? I'm still pissed. I know, logically, that he wouldn't want my dad to get hurt. But a part of me can't help feeling like he's not as invested as we are."

Humming, she tucked her hands in the pockets of her jacket. "It was one day. One really bad, really complicated day."

"Yeah. Maybe."

Before Malia could say much more, a flash of light caught her attention. Turning, she found a familiar face standing off to the side of the path, a camera in hand. The photography guy from Danny's party. M-something. Mike? Mort? No, Matt.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yearbook again?"

"Not exactly." He grinned as he walked toward her, and let his camera fall against his chest, hanging from a strap around his neck. "Heard you saved a couple lives at the video store on Saturday. Can't hurt to have a local hero's snapshot."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Hardly."

"Either way." He tapped his camera. "You're one of only a few people who can say they survived that mountain lion."

"Everybody that was at parent/teacher interviews last night might say different." She eyed him curiously. "Who told you I saved someone at the video store?"

He shrugged. "There's a few rumors going around. Some are saying it was Jackson Whittemore that saved you and some Freshman."

"Yeah, right, as if he'd even try," Stiles muttered.

Matt glanced at him and then looked back at Malia. "Are you confirming the story then?"

"I thought you were a photographer, not a journalist."

He smiled. "Picture's worth a thousand words." With that, he walked away, waving to someone in the distance.

Malia stared after him, her brow furrowed.

"I don't like him," Stiles said.

She snorted.

The bell rang then and Malia turned on her heel, shaking her head as they climbed the stairs leading inside. "Hey, do you still have Lydia's phone?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, and no idea how to get it back to her without her noticing."

"Meet me at break. We'll figure something out together."

"Sure."

Walking down the hall, she spotted Scott ahead, digging inside his locker. "You've got first period with Scott, don't you?"

Stiles frowned. "Yeah."

"Are you going to talk to him, at least?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Probably not."

Malia knocked his elbow with her own. "You can't ignore him forever."

"No, but one day isn't going to kill him." He sped up then and cut toward his locker.

Malia stared at him a beat, his head bent low, clearly an attempt to block out everyone around him. She walked ahead then and maneuvered around people to reach her own locker. As she was putting her jacket inside, her phone buzzed in her jeans pocket. Digging it out, she thumbed through to her recent messages. There was one from Cole— 'still on for lunch?'

Grabbing out her books, she thumbed back— 'yeah. looking forward to it.'

He sent a winky emoticon back, along with— 'me too'

Malia pocketed her phone, closed her locker, and left for her first class. If she was being honest with herself, while she enjoyed hanging out with Cole, so much had been going on in her life that she felt like she hadn't seen him in months rather than days. There was just so much happening and so many ups and downs, that she felt like she was living a completely separate life from anything involving him. Then again, that was part of the appeal. He was untouched by the chaos she was going through, which meant when they were together, things were easy. Or they were supposed to be, anyway.

She just hoped lunch stayed lighthearted and she could escape for a little while.

…

By the time break hit, Malia had a plan.

She met up with Stiles by his locker while he was still putting his things away, a still-wrapped granola bar stuck between his teeth. He nodded at her in hello.

"You erased the video off her phone, right?"

Closing his locker, he spat his granola bar into his hand. "Yeah, after I sent it to myself."

"Okay. So, this'll be easy. I'm going to distract her and you're going to slip the phone into her bag. She'll just think she missed it when she was looking for it before."

Stiles stared at her. "You want me to reverse pick-pocket her? What if she notices and thinks I'm trying to steal from her? I'll be branded some weirdo thief for the rest of high school."

Malia shrugged. "Then don't get caught."

"Don't get— Oh, sure, yeah, duh. Why didn't I think of that?" He rolled his eyes. "Could you be serious for a second and try to think about this from my end of things?"

"Stiles… I'll be right there. All you have to do is slide her phone into her purse." Malia shrugged. "There's not a whole lot of other options here."

"We could drop it off at the office and say we found it laying around."

"Lydia knows she had the phone with her on Saturday. She's been at home since then. Today is her first day back. She'll think it's suspicious. If she just finds it in her bag, she'll think she missed it. If it's dropped off in the office, she'll ask who returned it, and when she finds out it's us, she'll put two and two together. She could remember we visited or her mom could've mentioned it to her. This way, it was always with her, she just didn't realize it."

"And if I can't get it into her bag?"

"Then put it away and we'll come up with another plan."

He gritted his teeth. "Fine."

"Great." She pivoted and started down the hall. "Talk to Scott yet?" she wondered, scanning the halls for a familiar shock of red hair.

"No. And I don't plan to." He tore open his granola bar and bit off the end. "Have you?"

"No classes with him so far. But, I'm not the one who has a problem with him."

He threw a hand up. "For good reason!"

"I didn't say it wasn't."

Stiles sighed. "I'm just not ready to get over it yet. I know I will. But right now, I'm still mad."

She nodded. "Okay."

Stiles knocked his hand against her arm then. "Hey, there's Lydia." He tipped his head in her direction. "How do you want to do this?"

"Slip up behind her. Be quiet and don't get seen."

"Easy for you to say."

Malia walked ahead, cut across the hall, and came to a stop just short of Lydia, who was fixing her lipstick through a mirror on her locker. "Hey."

Lydia paused, a finger tucked behind her lower lip, carefully wiping at it. Her gaze turned in Malia's direction, followed by her brow furrowing. "This is new…" She cocked her head. "Don't you usually avoid me?"

"That makes it sound like I'm actively aware of where you are and what you're doing. Which, I'm not. It just happens that we don't hang out in the same places most of the time."

"You mean that crumby tree of yours?" She snorted. "I don't get the attachment."

"It's comfortable. Plus, when it's warm, there's shade." Malia crossed her arms. "Have you seen Allison?"

"Mmm, no. Not since first period. Why?" She stared at Malia searchingly. "Does this have anything to do with her being grounded?"

"Maybe." Malia could see Stiles creeping up in the background. He was terrible at it, nearly getting knocked into by a couple walking past and almost tripping over his shoe as he tried to avoid them. "She tell you anything about it?"

"Only that her dad really put his foot down. She's not allowed to hang out with anyone, but Scott especially…" Lydia stared at her searchingly. "I'm curious, is that good or bad for you?"

"Why would it be either?"

Lydia half-smiled, but it was anything but sincere. "You think I haven't noticed?"

Malia frowned. "Noticed what?"

"He's cute. Floppy and a little too innocent, but cute. It doesn't surprise me that you and Allison have similar taste. Of course, I hope hers gets a little more refined in my company."

Malia stared at her. "What?"

"You're not this dense, Tate. You obviously have feelings for McCall. Just as soon as you two act on your little 'Some Kind of Wonderful' remake, I can redirect Allison to someone more worth her time."

Stiles was right behind Lydia now and had dug her phone out from the pocket of his jeans. He was eyeing the purse hanging off her arm, trying to see what angle to go in at.

"I know you and I aren't close, but do you really think I'd steal Allison's boyfriend away from her?" Malia's brow arched. "She's my friend—"

"Oh, save the hyper-sensitivity for someone else." She waved dismissively. "Scott and Allison are barely anything. They like each other, but there's no fireworks. Anyone can see that."

Just as Stiles was about to release the phone into Lydia's purse, she stepped forward, inches out of reach.

Tipping her chin up, Lydia stared at Malia knowingly, her expression reeking of all-knowing confidence. "I'm a little disappointed in you, Malia. I thought you'd fight for what you want."

Malia stared down her nose at Lydia. "For someone who tries her to best to avoid being linked to me, you sure seem to think you know me."

Lydia grinned then. "The social hierarchy ebbs and flows. If I want to stay on top, I have to stay aware of what's happening elsewhere on the ladder. You might be on a lower rung, but you're climbing. You know, if you cared, you and Cole could be a good power couple… But we both know you don't care."

"About the hierarchy or Cole?"

"Both."

Stiles looked up then, raising two thumbs-up in triumph. The phone was officially stowed back in Lydia's bag, which meant this conversation could die and never be resurrected.

"I like Cole just fine."

"'Fine' isn't exactly what they write movies about." Lydia reached behind her to close her locker. "Cole's not your 'Harry,' Sally. We both know who is." With that, she sashayed off, leaving Malia to stare after her, frowning.

"What was that about?" Stiles wondered.

"Nothing. Lydia just needs to update her movie collection." Malia turned to him. "She's got her phone, right? That's all that matters."

As she marched away, Stiles stared after her, frowning. "Uh, okay..."

…

Lydia's words were stuck in Malia's head when she sat down across from Cole at lunch. He was partial to the cafeteria, so they were sharing a table inside rather than her tree. Malia unloaded her own lunch while he bought his and brought it over on a tray.

"I wouldn't eat the creamed corn," she said, popping the top off her sandwich container. "That's an unnatural yellow."

He half-grinned. "Not a fan of the cafeteria food?"

"I'm not sure it qualifies as food." She dug a couple grapes out of a bag and popped them in her mouth, one at a time.

"No?" Cole reached for a grape, only to get his hand slapped away. With a laugh, he looked up, brows hiked. "We can't share?"

"Not food."

"All right." He surrendered and picked up his plastic fork to scoop up a bite of apple sauce. "How are you feeling?"

"Good." Her side was a little sore and the bruising was less than ideal, but it wasn't as bad as Saturday. Her stitches were holding, at least. "What'd you hear happened, anyway?"

"Just that a cougar attacked the store, a few people got hurt but only one died."

"The store clerk." She nodded. "I saw him when I walked in, but…" She swallowed tightly. "He was changing a light, normal stuff, you know? I ran into a friend while I was picking out a movie and the next thing I heard was a scream. We went to see what it was and…" She remembered how slack he looked, like every muscle in his body had simply stopped working. The strings of a puppet, cut. "We hid. Made a plan to get out. And then Jackson was there, asking for help to find The Notebook." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, long story short, I was going to distract it while they got out—"

"Distract it?" he interrupted. He stared at her. "How?"

"Just making noise. I was throwing DVDs and knocking over shelves. I was hoping it would lure it away so they could make a run for the door."

"What about you?"

"I was going to run when I knew they were out."

Cole tipped his head thoughtfully. "What if you didn't make it?"

Malia pursed her lips. "Then I hope my eulogy is short."

He frowned and dropped his fork back to his food, tapping a thumb against his tray. "That's pretty intense, you know?"

Malia shrugged. "It sounds worse than it was."

"You ended up in the hospital. I'm pretty sure it's worse than how you're telling it…" He shook his head. "I know we're not anything… Well, we're something, but we're not…" He sighed. "You don't owe me anything and I get that. But, I don't want anything to happen to you that you don't walk away from."

Her brow furrowed. "You make it sound like I have a death wish. I was just trying to help."

"I get that. But you don't even sound scared."

"I was." She gritted her teeth. "I was scared out of my mind. But I wasn't the only one in that store. Jackson and Erica were there, too. I had to do something."

"Which sounds pretty damn heroic."

Malia sighed. "I really hate that word…"

"What, 'heroic'? Why?"

"Because. It gets applied to things that should just be second nature. Someone's in danger, you help." She waved a hand around. "Simple math."

"I thought you hated math."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

Laughing under his breath, Cole shook his head. "I missed this banter. We should hang out more."

She snorted. But before she could say anything, a shadow fell across the table and she looked up. An awkward looking Scott stood next to the table, his thumbs hooked in the straps of his bag. "Hey…" She glanced from him to Cole and back. "What's up?"

"Uh, nothing. I just…" He looked away, to a table in the distance. "Stiles still isn't talking to me. I didn't want to crowd him…"

Malia nodded. "Yeah, makes sense." She motioned to the chair next to her. "Sit."

Scott looked over at Cole briefly. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." She turned to Cole, who hesitated, but eventually nodded.

Cole offered a smile. "How's lacrosse going, Scott?"

"Uh, fine." Scott shrugged his bag off and dug out a brown bagged lunch. "How's basketball?"

"Good."

He nodded and dug out a baggie of carrot sticks, sticking one between his teeth before he pulled out an apple and some cookies.

Malia frowned. "No sandwich?"

He shook his head. "After last night, we forgot to go grocery shopping. I told mom I'd pick some stuff up tonight— she's lending me the car. But…"

With a hum, Malia pushed her sandwich container toward him.

Scott's brow furrowed. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. But I want a carrot."

He grinned and handed her two.

Malia stuck one between her teeth and snapped it in half before turning back to Cole, who was staring at her curiously. "Thursday," she told him.

He blinked. "Thursday?"

Malia shrugged. "I'm free if you are."

Cole nodded. "Thursday works."

…

"You should come over."

Malia closed her locker, a brow raised. "Aren't you grounded?"

"Yeah, but…" Allison shrugged. "I'm bored. And lonely. And you owe me ice cream cake!"

Malia smiled. "There's a couple pieces left. I made sure to save some for you."

"Exactly. So, come over. You can sneak in through the window. We'll hang out, eat cake, watch a movie on my laptop or something."

"And if your dad finds out?"

"What's he going to do? Ground me more?" She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, it's either that or I actually do my history essay and I… really don't want to. So? Please, come over."

"Yeah, fine, all right." She shrugged. "Scott has to do some grocery shopping tonight. He can drop me off before he goes."

"Yes." Allison beamed as she started backing down the hall. "Okay, so, text me when you're on your way?"

"I will." Malia turned on her heel to walk in the opposite direction and hurried her steps when she noticed Danny in the distance. Catching up, she fell into step with him. "Hey, question."

"Shoot."

"What are you doing tomorrow night?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, I don't think. Why?"

"Because that test is this Friday and I was hoping I could make up for yesterday by getting in a little after-hours studying. I know the school's open, so if you're free and up for it…"

Danny grinned wide enough that dimples formed. "Sure. Sounds good. You wanna pick something up to eat first?"

"I like the way you think."

…

Malia was surprised to find that her dad was home. She hopped out of Stiles' jeep with a wave and made her way inside, brow furrowed. He wasn't on the couch and there didn't seem to be any loose cans or bottles laying around, that was a good sign. Shiloh hurried over to her, tail wagging happily. She sniffed at Malia's legs and then took a seat, looking up at her cheerfully. Kicking off her shoes, Malia bent to pet her, scrubbing her fingers around Shiloh's ears. "Hey, girl…"

"You're home."

Malia looked up and found her dad standing at the mouth of the hallway. "Yeah… For a little while. I was gonna get some homework done and then head over to Allison's."

Henry nodded. "Not Scott's?"

Malia paused. "Uh… No…?"

"It's just that Melissa McCall mentioned you stayed over at her house on Saturday… She said that your stitches should heal nicely."

Malia's stomach dipped abruptly, and her feet felt rooted to the floor.

He walked toward her, his mouth flat. "You were hurt. You were attacked."

"It was an animal." She shook her head. "It was a freak accident!"

"Yeah, those happen. I'm pretty damn familiar with them." He stared at her, his eyes wide. "Why didn't you tell me? Huh? Why would you keep something—"

"You didn't pick up!" Her breathing came a little quicker and rougher then. "They called and called and you never answered! You were here, drunk, and they gave up, okay? So, I went home with Melissa. And when I got home, I thought you'd be worried. I thought you'd care, but you were passed out on the couch and the answering machine was full and so I— I erased the messages and the phone calls and I left it alone."

He stared at her, his brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Because it doesn't matter." She threw her hands up. "It was stupid and now it's over and who cares?"

"I care!" He lurched forward, his hands pressed to his chest. "I do!"

"Since when?" Malia's mouth trembled. "If you care so much, then why aren't you here? Why don't you pick up?" She shook her head. "Parent/teacher interviews were last night and you missed it. You always miss it. Because you don't care!"

"That's not true." He shook his head. "I just… I get mixed up sometimes. I get lost. But that's not… It isn't about you. It's not that I don't care."

"Bullshit," she snapped. Her hands balled into fists, shaking at her sides, and tears bit at her eyes. "You think I don't miss them? You think I don't wish they were here? That I don't wish it was me instead of Kylie?" Her breath stuttered. "Every day. I miss them every. day. And as stupid as it sounds, I miss you too. Because I think you died that day. I think I lost you too and I'm so sick of wishing things were different."

He swallowed tightly. Taking a step forward, he reached out, "Malia…"

"No." She stepped back. "Just, no."

He stared at her a long beat, his face falling, and then he let his hand fall. The space between them never seemed so large as in that moment.

Malia moved then, past him. She walked down the hall and into her bedroom, Shiloh right behind her. Letting the door fall closed, she leaned against it and closed her eyes against the heat of her tears. When Shiloh whimpered and pawed at her leg, Malia scrubbed at her face. She reached down, picked Shiloh up, and carried her to her bed. Laying down, she curled around Shiloh and buried her face against her soft fur.

…

Later that afternoon, Malia caught a ride to Allison's with Scott. Arms crossed, she sat low in the seat, staring out the window.

"Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" She glanced at him. "Oh, yeah. Fine."

Scott's brow wrinkled. "You know you can talk me."

"I know." She just wasn't sure how to put it into words. Her fight with her dad still felt raw. He hadn't been home when Scott had picked her up and she wondered what that meant. Had he heard what she said and just went to the bar to drink it away? Taking a deep breath, she said, "Dad found out about Saturday."

"What?" Scott turned to her. "What'd he say?"

"Eyes on the road."

He made a frustrated noise. "I have supernatural senses."

She pointed ahead. "That you barely know how to use."

Rolling his eyes, he turned forward. "There. Better?"

"Yes." She frowned. "Anyway, he wanted to know why I didn't tell him. He was pretty mad."

"What'd you say?"

"I got mad back." She winced. "I yelled at him."

Scott hummed. "Do you feel better?"

She turned, staring at his profile, her brow furrowed. "I don't know. I thought I would, but… Is it weird that I think I feel worse?"

He shook his head. "No."

"I thought if I could just get it all out, if I finally told him how much it hurt that he wasn't there, it would change something. But… I don't think it will."

"It might. Maybe he needed to hear it from you." He glanced at her, his brows arched. "And even if it doesn't, you still needed to say it."

"Yeah." Malia's throat burned. "I just wish things were different."

Scott reached for her, keeping his other hand on the steering wheel.

Malia took his hand, biting her lip to hide a smile, and folded their fingers together. Resting them on her knee, she brought her free hand over and traced the length of each of his fingers, circling his knuckles as she went. "The scariest part wasn't telling him that it hurts… it's knowing he probably won't change it. I don't even know if he can. Maybe it's too late for that. But… I guess I'm scared he won't try anymore. That he doesn't care enough to do anything."

Scott's hand squeezed hers. "What do you want to do?"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Go back in time, change it. I used to wish for that all the time. Wasted birthday candles and shooting stars…" She turned her gaze out to the road. "Now, I just want to make it to graduation and… I don't know. I have no idea what happens after that."

"Life." He glanced at her, half-smiling. "I'd give up my birthday candles and shooting stars for you to get them back, too. But, I think the best I can do is be here."

"You're pretty good at that." Malia leaned back against her seat. "Anyway, I don't want you to waste your wishes on something that can't happen. You should put them toward more realistic things… like winning the lottery and world domination."

"Domination?" He grinned. "Not peace?"

"I don't know, King McCall has a nice ring to it."

Scott shook his head. "I feel like leadership fits you better than me."

Malia's nose wrinkled. "Fine. We'll co-lead. That way, if I feel like beheading people, you can veto it."

He laughed under his breath. "Deal."

A few minutes later, he pulled the car to a stop just down the road from Allison's house. "You want me to pick you up after?"

Malia unclipped her seat belt and grabbed her bag up from the floor. "How long are you gonna be grocery shopping?"

He shrugged. "I've got the car all night. Mom won't be home until late, so text me when you're done."

"Okay." She reached for the door handle.

"Hey…"

She looked back.

Scott stared at her searchingly. "I'm sorry about your dad. What I said yesterday, that he should know, I only said it because I know I'd be freaking out if you got hurt and I was the last one to find out."

Malia hesitated a beat and then shifted in her seat to face him better. "Yesterday, after parent/teacher interviews, I got knocked into a car. The stitches held but now my bruises have bruises."

His brow furrowed. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because Stiles was already upset about his dad and Allison was almost run over." She shrugged and shook her head. "A few bruises is nothing."

Scott sighed. "Any other injuries I should know about?"

"Nope."

He stared at her a beat. "Does it hurt?"

"Not really. Not anymore. It hurt a little last night." She frowned. "Derek took some of the pain, but…" She appreciated the gesture, but they weren't there yet. She didn't like feeling vulnerable and, unfortunately, she was feeling that all too much lately.

Scott clenched his teeth, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "Are you sure it's safe having him stay with you?"

"It's not a permanent thing. But if Kate knows where he lives and she's just going to show up and try to kill him, we should do something."

"I know, I get that. I just…" He slumped back against his seat. "Why does it always have to be you?"

"You want to blow up an air mattress and let him sleep on your floor?"

Scott frowned. "Not really."

"Then let's go with what works." She shrugged. "The sooner we figure this alpha stuff out, the sooner Kate can leave and things can go back to normal… Or, our new normal, anyway."

"Yeah." He nodded. "Okay."

"I'll text you later." She pushed the door open then and climbed out. "Love you." Standing stock still on the sidewalk, she stared, wide-eyed ahead of herself. Shit, shit, shit.

"Love you, too."

Malia turned around, hoping she looked casual and not like a wild-eyed idiot that had just said something a little too close to home. Closing the car door, she waved, and then hurried down the sidewalk toward Allison's, all the while willing her heart to stop beating so damn loudly.

It was just words. Friends said that kind of stuff, right? He wouldn't read into it. He'd said it, too.

It was fine.

tbc

author's note: apologies for the late update. my weekend ended up being a LOT busier than expected and i only got home yesterday, so it took me some time to finish writing and editing this. on the bright side, i still have five days of my holiday left, so i should be getting a ton of writing done and will hopefully be able to get back to my regular weekend updating schedule. and may even be able to stock up a few chapters again so i can post a little easier each week.

unfortunately, i wasn't able to dig into the anchor and heart monitors in this chapter. it had to be moved to the next one. sorry about the tease, but i ended up fleshing out and adding a lot more scenes to this chapter.

on the bright side, we FINALLY got to see scott's feelings and where they're at. *i ascend to the heavens, glowing ethereally* i was careful in writing a lot of his previous scenes, but i think there were always hints there about how he felt. a small example is when he tells allison that malia thinks he's a dork, that references chapter seven when malia is talking to him about her first impressions when they met and she says: "I thought you were a dork." and Scott replies, "I'm pretty sure you still do." so, scott clearly thinks that malia's feelings for him have never grown beyond friendship. which we know is completely false.

i feel like a few people might not like the idea that scott and allison are still going to be 'friends with benefits' but they do enjoy each other's company and scott thinks he needs to get over malia. i'll say this though, it'll be a short-lived arrangement, because things are about get serious soon enough.

things to look forward to next chapter: argent family history; ANCHORRRS; spirals; and heart monitors ;)

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