word count: 15,364
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

VII

Love you.

Love you.

Love you.

She said it so easily, so casually, while Scott had been struggling to swallow those words for three long years. The day Scott realized his feelings had changed, he wanted to blame it on the delirium. But when the fever broke, it was still there. The realization that nothing was ever going to be the same. Well, okay, in a lot of ways, it was. Because he was the only one who knew how he felt. Malia continued being exactly who she was, treating him as she always had, and he was stuck in suspension. Aware that how he felt for her was never going to be how she felt about him. Malia was strong, smart, and confident. In comparison, Scott felt awkward and weak. Where she could run marathons without breaking a sweat, his lungs regularly gave up on him.

Even now that things had changed, her feelings remained the same. Hadn't she said exactly that? That he would always be just Scott to her. Her best friend. And he loved that, he needed that, but there were moments where he wanted so much more. Times when she reached for him, held him, leaned on him, and he wanted to wrap himself around her. Bury his face at her neck. To kiss her and have her and know her in a wholly new way. More lately, with everything in chaos, he found himself searching her out. Finding her hand and holding on as tight as he could. And she let him.

Sometimes he wondered if he was being obvious. If the moments where he hesitated and lingered, when his gaze strayed to her mouth, or his sheer relief at having her there was too clear not to be seen. But things didn't change or grow. They were still exactly who they'd always been to each other. And while he liked knowing that Malia would always be that pillar in his life, he couldn't help but wonder how he was supposed to keep feeling so drawn to her knowing that it would never be reciprocated. How was he supposed to bury those feelings and move on if they never faded? Three years and they still felt just as strong as ever.

Scott walked up and down the aisles of the grocery store, absently grabbing every item he needed from his list, all the while replaying those last few moments before she left for Allison's.

"Love you, too… Love you, too?"

Scott shook his head. Did he sound too eager or hopeful or awkward? Had she picked up on the beat of hesitation as her words left him feeling weightless, only to crash back down to earth a second later? Malia might not say it often, but she had said it. Scott never questioned that she loved him. For her, it was a platonic love. His chest hung hollow whenever he was reminded of that. He remembered the dinner at the Argents, when Kate had asked Malia if she'd ever had feelings for him. As much as he was sure that her feelings for him were the same as they were for Stiles, he didn't want to hear her say it. The idea that she might call him her brother made his stomach drop out, so he'd changed the subject as quick as he could.

Eventually, he was going to have to deal with this, he knew that. But what was he supposed to do? Malia was a huge part of his life. He couldn't just cut her out. And… he didn't want to. Not really. He would just have to find a different way to get over her. Preferably one that didn't leave him talking to himself in a grocery store, replaying two little words, while he tried to figure out which box of tampons his mom wanted him to pick up.

Groaning, he dug his phone out and sent a text. —'what brand of tampons would my mom want?'

Malia answered a full minute later. —'tampax. since you're there, grab me a box of playtex. i'll pay you back later.' She added a winky emoticon.

Scott rolled his eyes before grabbing a box of each, whichever had the most, and tossed them in the cart. Resting his forearms on the bar, he texted her— 'anything else you want?'

He paused in front of the laundry detergent and searched for what they usually used. There was a sale on, so he grabbed two and dropped them in the cart, making it rattle noisily.

His phone buzzed with Malia's reply— 'cherry garcia'

A slow grin formed. —'you're eating ice cream cake!'

She sent an eye-roll emoji. —'you can never have too much ice cream'

Shaking his head, he moved on to the next aisle, but made a mental note to grab a pint for them to share when he picked her up later.

…

Malia sat on Allison's bed, her back against the headboard and her legs stretched out in front of her. Allison's head rested against Malia's shoulder, her laptop balanced on her stomach so they could both see it. The ice cream cake was long finished, an empty container with melted puddles of ice cream and fudge sat on Allison's bedside table.

"This movie would be pointless if people didn't put so much pressure on everyone to have sex."

Allison smiled. "Yeah, that's kind of the point. Olive is just trying to fit in."

Malia grunted. "She needs better friends."

"They come around, eventually." Allison shrugged. "Anyway, movies about high school are never realistic."

"Maybe that's the appeal. Reality is usually boring."

"Usually, says the girl who dodged a mountain lion a few days ago."

Malia snorted. "I think my track coach would have something to say about response time. If I was quicker, I might not have stitches."

Allison sat up then, looking worried. "Was I too heavy? Does it hurt?"

"Hardly. And no, they're fine. Opposite side." She pointed to where her stitches were and shrugged. "I'm a little surprised they haven't popped, actually. I'm not exactly the most careful person."

"Will they be healed by the time track starts?"

"Should be." Malia nodded. "I keep forgetting tryouts are soon." She eyed Allison curiously. "Have you thought about joining the team?"

"Me?" She snorted. "No, definitely not. I'll cheer you on and make an over-glittered 'Go Malia' sign, but I'm not lacing up anytime soon." She scrunched up her nose. "I only run when I have to."

Malia laughed. "Unfortunately, we don't have an archery club. Unless you want to start one."

She grinned, her dimples popping. "Maybe I will."

"I'll join. But only because I get to shoot things."

Allison nodded. "I'm pretty sure that'd be our slogan."

…

Scott chased after a rolling milk bottle as he stood on the fifth floor of the parking garage, fully aware that his mom's car was at least one more floor up. This was the second time he'd gotten off on the wrong floor and he was already completely over grocery shopping. Cursing at himself as the milk bottle rolled under a car, he sighed. Only to watch, confused, as the bottle rolled back to him, leaking through three distinct claw marks. Immediately, Scott felt a skittering sensation ripple down his back, and then—

A growl.

Without pause, he turned on his heel, and ran. Abandoning the groceries, he lurched toward the door leading to the stairs, but then shook his head. No, that would slow him down and leave him in a confined space. That wouldn't work. He kept running, following the road down to the next level, passing parked cars that could be hiding any number of innocent people are not-so-innocent attackers. He kept looking back over his shoulder, desperate to see if he could spot it. 'It' being, he assumed, the alpha. His arms pumped at his sides as he ran as quickly as he could, the muscles along his legs drawn so tight they hurt. His lungs were burning, panic beginning to flood his system. Calm. He needed to stay calm. If he shifted, he might be seen, or he could hurt someone without meaning to.

What did Derek say? That he needed to anchor himself to something or someone that brought him peace, that made him feel safe.

Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "Eyelash, Star Wars, burnt cookies, red shirt."

He could hear footsteps gaining behind him, claws tearing into cement. Scott's heart jumped up into his throat and he took an abrupt turn, his feet stumbling, nearly sending him to the ground.

"Eyelash, Star Wars, burnt cookies…"

He passed a sign saying he was on the third floor and when he was sure he was mostly out of range, he slowed down and darted behind a car, crouching down low. His heart was pounding so hard it ached. His claws were out; they snagged on his shirt as he covered his chest, willing his heart to slow down.

Eyelash, Star Wars, burnt cookies, red shirt.

Eyelash, Star Wars, burnt cookies, red shirt.

Eyelash, Star Wars, burnt cookies, red shirt.

It wasn't working. His heart was still too loud, which meant that the alpha was going to hear him and track him to exactly where he was hiding.

He tried to control his breathing like Malia showed him. That first night, in his room, with her hand against his heart. She'd breathed with him, giving him something to focus on. 'Deep inhale, hold it, slow exhale.' But just as his heart felt like it was slowing down, he heard another growl.

Scott shook his head. He didn't have time for this.

Jumping up, he moved down the wall and leapt onto a car. As soon as the alarm went off, he hopped to the next one. A distraction technique. It wasn't perfect, but it should help. He ran down one full length of cars and when he reached the end, he found a marker to the second floor. If he kept going, he could make it outside, to where people were, and blend in with the crowd. But what if the alpha chased him there, too? What if he only ended up putting innocent people at risk?

Groaning, Scott quickly found himself bent behind another car, panting hard. He pressed a hand against his chest and willed his heart to slow down.

Something that brought him peace.

That made him feel safe.

Something—

Or someone.

( "Hey, you furry asshole! Over here!"

"Whatever this is, we'll help you with it."

"You're exactly who you've always been, Scott. A good person. Nothing and no one can take that from you."

"Scott, I'm not afraid of you."

"I know it doesn't seem like it now, but you'll get through this."

"You are not alone."

"I believe in you exactly as much as you deserve."

"We're not afraid of you."

"Because I love you!"

"You'll always have me. I'm always on your side."

"It's okay to get scared sometimes. We all are."

"You've always been enough."

"Love you." )

Scott's heart slowed, his claws retracted, and he felt steadier than he had in a long time. He could do this. Just not alone. Scott dug in his jeans pocket for his phone, ready to text Stiles and Malia, to ask for help, to make a plan, for advice, something. Only he couldn't find it. At some point, his phone had fallen out of his pocket, and he had no idea where the hell it was.

Before he could come up with a new plan, two hands suddenly gripped his shoulders, lifted him off the ground, and abruptly slammed him down on top of a car. Groaning, Scott looked up, only to have confusion swamp him.

Derek was crouched beside him, baring his teeth as he snarled. "You're dead."

Not for the first time, Scott regretted the fact that Derek Hale existed, and even more that he had become a part of Scott's life.

As Derek hopped off the car, Scott rolled himself over and climbed to his feet. "Seriously?"

"Malia said you wanted help learning how to use your senses." He shrugged and walked away. "I agreed to teach you, I didn't say when."

Scott chased after him and threw his arms out. "You scared the crap out of me!"

Derek glanced at him, unmoved. "Not yet."

"O-Okay, but I was fast, right?"

"Not fast enough."

"But— But, the car alarm thing, that was smart, right?"

"It was," he admitted. "But then you froze."

"I didn't freeze!" He frowned. "I was just thinking."

"You took too long."

Scott rolled his eyes. "You said I needed an anchor. I was trying to figure out what mine was or what it could be."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "And…?"

Scott pursed his lips. "And I think I found one."

Derek stared at him. "Just spit it out, Scott. I already know who it is."

Sighing, his shoulders slumped. "Is it that obvious?"

"I can smell it on you. But even without that, yeah, it's obvious." He scowled. "What I can't figure out is how she doesn't know."

Scott's brow furrowed. "Maybe you're wrong then. Maybe you can only tell because you're a werewolf!"

Derek's expression was bland. "I'm pretty sure everybody but Malia knows you're in love with her. Saturday, on the roof, you lost it when you thought she was hurt."

"She's my best friend, of course I was worried."

"It was more than that." Derek shook his head. "Look, an anchor is a form of power. It can keep you from shifting or it can help you funnel your energy into what you're doing. Running, fighting, healing, whatever. But, when your anchor is a person, they can be a distraction. If you lose them, if they're hurt, it's hard to stayed focused on anything else. That's why I choose to use anger, and why pain is always a back up."

"You said I needed something that made me feel safe. Malia does that for me." He stared at him searchingly. "It worked. Before you caught up to me, I— I calmed down. My heart slowed down and I could think clearly."

"Next time, it needs to be faster. You can't hide and hope the alpha will just let you."

"I get that. I just… I'm trying, okay?"

"You need to try harder. We're running out of time and there's only so much I can do."

Scott sighed. "Look, what happened the other night, Stiles' dad getting hurt, that was my fault. I should've done something."

"Like what?" Derek cocked his head, staring at him through narrow eyes. "The Argents were there, if they'd seen you do anything—"

"That doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does." Derek's expression hardened. "You're not the only one at risk here. The Argents are a threat to all of you. If they find out you're a werewolf, they might just eliminate Malia and your little friend Stiles, too. Just to tie up loose ends."

Scott's mouth fell open. "Can… Can they do that?"

"You need to stop thinking of them like they're everyone else. They operate by their own set of rules." He shook his head. "Look, I know you need help figuring this stuff out, but I am what I am because of birth. You were bitten. Teaching someone who was bitten takes time. I don't even know if I can teach you."

"Just tell me what I have to do."

"The full moon is coming. Find out what your triggers are and test them. Your anchor needs to be simple. That means not hiding behind a car for five minutes. Pick one thing, one moment, something that levels you out. And make sure it works. Once you can do that, you need to figure out how to undo it."

Scott frowned. "What?"

"You don't just need to keep from shifting. You have to be able to shift at will, too. Your anchor can ground you; it can give you the control you need. But if it doesn't work, then you need to exercise other options. That means you either get angry or you get hurt. If you go that route, then you'll have to tap into a primal rage to trigger the shift."

Scott nodded. "But if Malia is my anchor, I can shift too, right? If I need to. If… If I need to use those abilities?"

"Being a werewolf isn't something you just use when it's convenient. It's what you are, it's who you are now. The sooner you accept that, the better." Derek poked his chest for emphasis. "If you want to live, if you want to protect your friends, then you need to stop fighting this. You're a werewolf, Scott… There's no changing that."

Taking a deep breath, he nodded.

"Good." He turned on his heel to leave then. "Some advice? Your anchor will be a lot more stable if you're honest with her."

Scott's brows hiked. "What? No, I— I can't tell her."

Derek didn't answer.

Scott watched him go, his shoulders slumping.

…

"Who even has a rideable lawn mower? Did he have to rent that specifically for this cheese-filled moment?"

Allison grinned. "I think it's cute. It's a big gesture."

"It's an expensive gesture. I'd take a pint of ice cream over that any day."

Allison squinted at her, unconvinced. "So, if someone you liked showed up under your window, blasting a love song, you'd turn them away?"

"I live in a one-story house and if they blasted music outside my window, I'd probably set Shiloh on them… Anyway, a lot of 80's romance movies were full of sexism and misogyny and a gross amount of date rape."

"Any amount of date rape is gross."

"True."

Allison frowned. "I think you just ruined this movie for me."

Malia snorted. "No, it was good."

"But…?"

"But rideable lawn mowers aren't cost effective. If someone I liked showed up on one of those, they'd need to actually mow my lawn and theirs just to get their money's worth."

"Do you even have a lawn mower?"

"Probably. Somewhere." Malia shrugged. "I think my mom used to have a push-mower. She was really hands-on with that kind of stuff."

"Huh."

Malia stared at her. "Your family has one, don't they?"

A pink flush filled Allison's cheek. "We have a really big lawn," she defended.

Laughing, Malia fell back against the pillows. "I need to see it. Not now, but when you're not grounded."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "I'll drive it over to your house one day and play the least sexist song I can find."

"Be still my heart."

A knock echoed from the door then and both girls froze.

Malia and Allison's gaze moved to the door and then to each other before they were both scrambling off the bed. Allison shuffled Malia into the closet and closed it before making her way to the door.

"Allison?" Kate's voice called out.

"Uh, coming. Coming!" The swing of the door opening could be heard. "Hey…" Allison greeted, her voice awkward.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Uh, nothing. Just… doing homework, sending some emails."

Malia watched through the slats in the door as Allison took a seat at her desk and moved her mouse to get the screen to light up. Vaguely, Malia found herself thinking that of course Allison didn't think a ride-on lawn mower was a big deal. She had a laptop and a PC. Malia's own computer sounded like a trash compactor regurgitating lunch whenever it got overheated.

"Yeah?" Kate stepped into view. "Emailing the boyfriend?"

"No." Allison hunched forward as she started typing. "I'm emailing PETA about how my wing-nut father gunned down an innocent mountain lion in the school parking lot."

Kate fiddled with a few knick-knacks in her reach. "And that wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you're grounded and you can't see Scott?"

Allison looked up and turned in her seat. "You know, Scott isn't the only person in my life. I have friends that I could be hanging out with, too. There's Lydia and Malia and—"

"I have to admit, I'm a little surprised Malia is still on the short-list. She was pretty pissed after that dinner."

"You mean after you accused Scott of stealing from you?" Allison's brows hiked. "Of course she was. He's her best friend and you—"

"I know, I know. I made a mistake!" Kate held her hands up apologetically. "All I'm saying is that she seems like the type of person to hold a grudge…"

"Malia doesn't blame me for what happened." Crossing her arms, Allison leaned back against her chair. "How she feels about you is probably different."

Kate laughed, amused. "Good thing I don't hold myself accountable to the opinions of teenagers." She pivoted to face her better and cocked her head. "Does it ever bother you?"

"What, that she doesn't like you?"

"No. Although I'd like to think I grow on people, eventually." She shrugged. "But what I meant was how close they are… your friend and your boyfriend."

"Scott's not my boyfriend."

Malia's brow furrowed. Huh?

"I mean…" Allison tilted her chin, looking entirely defiant. "We're not like that anymore. We talked and we decided that we didn't want it to be serious."

"As in… you want it to be casual?"

"Maybe I do."

Kate hummed. "And that has nothing to do with Malia?"

Allison shrugged. "I don't know what you mean."

Kate grinned knowingly. "Kid, come on… You can talk to me." She took a seat on the edge of Allison's desk. "It's hard liking someone that you know isn't as into you. I've been there."

Allison's gaze skittered to the closet before quickly returning to Kate. "It's not like that. I like Scott, but it was never really a thing. Honestly, I think we work better as friends."

"All right. But if you want to talk about it… You know where to find me."

"Yeah. I do." Allison shifted to face her computer again. "Anyway, I should really get back to my homework."

Kate flipped a book open and then closed. "What are you working on? Can I help?"

"Uh, a history project." Allison waved at the computer screen vaguely. "And I just… want to be left alone, actually."

"Come on... What kind of history project?"

Allison sighed. "I have to come up with a report that has some relevance to my own family history."

"Specific to your family?"

Malia tensed.

"Why? Do you have any ideas?"

Kate maneuvered behind Allison and leaned over her shoulder, balancing a hand on the edge of the desk. "Type this in: 'La Bête du Gévaudan.'"

"The beast of Gévaudan." Allison typed it in. "What is this?"

"It's an old French legend that, believe it or not, has something to do with your family."

Malia could see the screen; the writing was too small to read from this distance, but there was a clear drawing of an oversized wolf. She clenched her teeth and felt her heartrate pick up.

"'In 1766 in a province of Lozere, la Bête killed over a hundred people…'" Allison read.

Kate leaned closer. "Mysterious animal attacks, just like a certain town called Beacon Hills."

"So, what was it? The animal?"

"Nobody knows for sure." Kate shook her head. "But, I can tell you one thing. It definitely wasn't a mountain lion. What's it look like to you?"

Allison took her time staring at the picture, a hand tucked against her neck. Until finally, she said, "It looks like— a wolf."

Malia closed her eyes as she was overwhelmed with a feeling of dread.

…

After picking up the groceries that were spilled all over the 5th floor parking lot, Scott made a second trip to the store to replace what had broken in the scuffle. He had just finished putting everything away when the landline rang. Plucking the phone from its perch on the kitchen wall, he tucked it between his shoulder and ear. "Hello?"

"Hey," Malia said. "Did your phone die or something? I've been texting and getting no answer."

Scott sighed. "Or something. I kind of lost it. It's a long story…"

"Oh. Well, can you still pick me up?"

"Yeah, definitely." He nodded. "You're done at Allison's? Already?"

"We watched a whole movie. Also, I just spent like twenty minutes stuck in her closet because her aunt decided she wanted to talk family history…" She sighed. "Allison's downstairs distracting her with dessert. Any chance you can pick me up soon?"

"I'll leave now. I can be there in ten minutes."

"Great. Don't forget my ice cream."

Scott snorted. "You know, I had to buy this twice tonight. It was the last pint left, too."

"My hero. But, why twice? Did you eat the first one?"

"No." He shook his head. "Actually, I'll tell you when I get there. It's a long story, too. Uh, you want me to honk or…?"

"Let's not. If they catch you outside, they'll think something's up. I'll just keep an eye out for you."

"Okay. I'll be there soon."

Hanging up, Scott grabbed his keys off the counter and started for the door. He paused and turned back, however, bee-lining it for the fridge. With a pint of Cherry Garcia and two spoons, he set off for the car, smiling to himself.

…

Malia waited until she saw Scott pull up out front before she scrawled out a quick message on a sticky note, stuck it on Allison's computer screen, and then snuck through the window. She walked carefully down the slanted roof until she reached the very edge and then hopped down, landing in a crouch. Glancing back at the house to see that nothing seemed to have changed— at least, no angry Argents came out, guns loaded— she started down the driveway. There was a strange fog that had formed, masking much of her surroundings. It was dark enough that the houses already just looked like vague outlines, but with the added fog, she felt like she was walking through the set of a horror movie.

When a rustling noise came from behind her, she paused. A skittering sensation ran down her back, like tiny spider's feet. Her stomach dropped as she looked back over her shoulder, staring at a manicured bush through narrowed eyes. Could be a cat, she thought. A tabby out looking for a live snack. Whatever it was, it made every inch of her body tense. She should walk away— even run away. So what if it was just a cat? Wasn't it better to flee and not find out? Instinct told her that was the smarter plan, but her feet moved toward the sound. She could feel her heart pounding against her chest and a cold droplet of fear cut a path from her throat to her navel.

Go back, go back, go back.

What was it she said to Cole? 'You make it sound like I have a death wish.' Maybe, she did.

She heard a click from behind her, a car door opening.

But ahead, there was a menacing growl.

Malia stumbled backwards before turning abruptly on her heel and racing down the driveway. The pavement was slick and her shoes lost grip for a second, sending her careening to the left. She threw her arms out and was quick to rebalance, digging the toes of her shoes down and racing forward.

Scott had climbed out of the car, his hand gripping the top. He stared at her, his brow furrowed.

She could feel the heavy sensation of something behind her, chasing her. The sound of its feet hitting the ground was hard to ignore, as was the wet, snarling growl it gave. Waving at Scott, she said, "In! Get in!"

His eyes widened as he backed up, falling into the driver's seat.

Malia's heart felt like it was beating too fast, like it would escape from her chest and explode in a gruesome flurry. Her legs were moving quicker than they ever had before, but it still felt like it wasn't enough. Like time was slowing down and there was nothing but her heart echoing in her ears, surrounded by her panting breaths.

Scott's expression twisted up with worry. She could see his lips moving, forming around her name, and she dove. Head first through the door, she landed on top of him and pulled her legs in just as he yanked the door shut. Malia turned over so she was seated in his lap, her knees drawn up to her chest, the toes of her shoes pressed against the door. His arm crossed her back, hand hooked around the curve of her neck where it met her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He reached up and caught her chin, turning her to face him. His fingers climbed her cheek and fanned out. "Breathe! I've got you."

Malia stared at him, wide-eyed, and struggled to catch her breath. "Where— Where is it? Where'd it go?"

Scott turned his head, searching, but the windows were fogged up. "There!" He looked past her to the rear-view mirror, and then swiveled his head to look out the back window. "It's behind us."

"Start the car." She nodded frantically. "Run it the hell over."

"Okay, okay!" His hand left her shoulder in favor of the keys still stuck in the ignition. "Wait… It's moving."

Malia turned, squinting through the windows. Her hand fell to Scott's chest, balling up the fabric of his shirt in her palm. She could see something moving; a large, shadowy figure slowly crossing one side of the car until it reached them. The glow of red eyes was visible. Scott's arm wrapped around her, his hand pressed against her side, drawing her closer. She leaned into him, her cheek meeting his, as they watched the alpha reach out. A finger met the window and spun a slow, sinister circle. No. A spiral. And when it was finished, the alpha left, running off into the night, leaving only psychological damage in its wake.

Slumped with relief, Malia's body gave out as she fell against Scott. "Jesus fucking Christ," she muttered. Pressing her forehead to his temple, she tried to breathe. Her lungs felt shaky and her chest too tight, but the weight of before, the awareness that something dangerous was close, ebbed.

Scott's hand was shaky as it wrapped around her arm and squeezed. "Are you okay?"

She laughed, a cracked huff more than anything. "Does terrified count?"

"Yeah." He turned his head and searched out her eyes, but this close, the tips of their noses grazed, and she could feel his own panting breaths against her mouth. Scott reached up and brushed her hair back from her face. "I thought… I— I could hear your heart. It was so loud. And when I looked out, you were walking toward the bushes. I knew something wasn't right."

"What the hell did it want? What was the point? I mean, scare tactics?" She shook her head. "Is it bored?"

"I don't know. But… I don't like this. It was chasing you."

"You were here, too. It could've been sending a message or something."

"Like what?"

Malia sighed. "I don't know. But I vote we get out of here."

Scott nodded. "Yeah, okay." He stared up at her. "My place?"

It was late and Malia should probably go home, but right now, the last thing she wanted to be was alone. And considering her dad wasn't there when she left… "Yeah. Your place works." Letting him go, she shifted around, using her foot against the door to leverage herself up and over the center console until she fell into the passenger seat. It took her a few tries to get her seatbelt on, her hands less steady than she would've liked. Scott pulled the car onto the road and started for home. His gaze bounced from the road to the mirror to her repeatedly, not quite sure where to focus.

"Distract me?" she asked.

"Okay. How?"

"I don't know. Just…" She rubbed her hands up and down her thighs, digging her fingers in around her knees. "What happened before? Why'd you have to buy the ice cream twice?"

"Uh…" His brow wrinkled. "It was Derek. He was chasing me through the parking lot, trying to make a point, I guess. I got away, mostly. I ran for it and I was doing pretty good. I set off a bunch of car alarms to mask my heartbeat. But then I tried to hide. I was worried I might shift, so I tried to calm down. I used my mantra—"

"Mantra?"

"Yeah. Eyelash, Star Wars, burnt cookies, red shirt. It kind of worked, a bit, but not enough. So, then I thought about what Derek said. That I need one anchor and it needs to be something that makes me feel safe. And… Well, I found one, but it took a while and, uh, he caught up."

"What'd he do?"

"Scared the shit out of me." Scott snorted. "He wasn't sorry about it either. He said I need to test my anchor, see if it'll really work. Not just to stop the shift, but to help activate it, too."

"How are we supposed to test it?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. But he says I'm running out of time 'cause the full moon is coming." Sighing, he squeezed the steering wheel. "How am I supposed to stay calm when the alpha is chasing you? Or Derek's popping up out of nowhere. I feel like I'm always on edge."

"Maybe that's the point. Don't get me wrong, it sucks, but… That's when you need your control the most, when you're not expecting it or when it's affecting the people closest to you." She nodded. "We can figure this out. We'll bring Stiles in. He'll have a plan."

"Stiles still isn't talking to me."

Malia slumped back against her seat. Yet another problem they had to figure out.

Up ahead, she could see Scott's house come into view and she felt a nervous prickling sensation break out over her skin. "How do we know it didn't run ahead and now it's circling your house…" She glanced at him. "Or inside your house?"

Scott swallowed. "We don't."

"Okay, so… We make a run for it. We get inside, make sure all the doors and windows are locked."

"What if it's inside?"

"Then we trap it in a room or something."

Nodding, he let out a sigh. "Okay."

Scott pulled the car up as close to the porch stairs as he could get it. "Ready?"

Malia unclipped her seatbelt and reached for the door handle. "Ready."

"Now."

They jumped out of the car at the same time, circled around to the front, raced up the stairs and across the porch and fell through the front door together. Scott scrambled to shut it behind them while Malia ran to the back door, double checking that it was, in fact, locked. Finding it was, she breathed out a relieved sigh, and then walked back through the kitchen. There, she grabbed a knife from the block.

She found Scott in the living room, testing out the windows.

"Everything down here is good." He glanced at the knife and raised an eyebrow.

Malia shrugged. "Can't be too safe."

Together, they climbed the stairs, with Scott taking the lead by a few inches.

"Do you hear anything?"

"Your heart is racing," he whispered.

She pressed a hand flat against his back. "So is yours."

He glanced back at her over his shoulder and then stepped down the hallway, his eyes darting around. "I think it's okay… Maybe."

Malia bit her lip and nudged him forward, toward his bedroom.

Scott walked toward it, his fingers outstretched for the handle. Taking a deep breath, he shoved the door open and stepped inside. When there was no immediate attack, his shoulders slumped in relief.

"The window." Malia nodded her chin toward it.

He crossed the room in three long strides, yanked the open window closed, and then lowered the blinds. "I think we're okay."

Malia followed after him, her gaze wandering the dark room, hand gripped tight around the knife.

Scott turned the lamp on and—

Derek was sitting in a chair next to the bed.

Scott let out a strangled, "Shit," and jumped back, his arm stretched behind him, hand hooked around Malia's hip. "You seriously need to stop doing that!"

Derek stared up at him a moment before his gaze skirted past Scott to Malia. His eyebrow ticked up. "Planning on using that knife?"

"I haven't decided yet." She gritted her teeth and flexed her fingers along the hilt. "I'm starting to think 'lurking' is just your default setting."

He rolled his eyes. "What happened with the alpha? Did he talk to you?"

"Yeah. We had a nice conversation about the weather." Scott scoffed. "No, we didn't talk!"

"It was hiding outside of Allison's house." Malia's brow furrowed. "If it wanted to send a message, why did it choose the hunter's house?"

"To show he wasn't scared. Not of them or of you." Derek looked between them. "Did you get anything off of him? An impression? Something."

Scott shook his head. "What do you mean?"

Derek let out an impatient sigh through his nose. He pushed up from the chair and walked toward them. "Remember your other senses are heightened. Communication doesn't have to be spoken. What kind of feeling did you get from him?"

Scott nodded, his eyes darting around. "Okay, yeah. I… There was anger."

"Focused on you?"

He paused. "No, not— not me. And not Malia, either."

She stepped out from behind him and moved to his side.

Scott turned to meet her eyes, his brows hiked. "But it was definitely anger. I could feel it." He looked back to Derek. "Especially when it drew the spiral."

"Wait, the what?" Derek perked up. "What'd you just say?"

"He drew a spiral in the condensation on the window," Malia explained. "Right next to us, like he wanted us to see it."

Derek's gaze moved away and his face fell thoughtfully.

"What?" Malia's mouth screwed up. "What's that face for?"

"Nothing."

"No, it was something." Scott frowned. "You look like you know what it means."

Derek stepped past them then. "It's nothing, never mind."

Scott turned, reaching for Derek's arm. "Wait a second. You can't do that. You can't ask us to trust you and then just keep things to yourself."

Derek's brows hiked and he reached for the door. "Doesn't mean anything."

"You're lying." Malia crossed her arms. "I think we deserve better than that."

Derek paused.

"You buried your sister under a spiral," Scott said.

Turning around, Derek faced them.

"What does it mean?"

Derek sighed and pulled the door open. "You don't wanna know."

He left then, those ominous words hanging in the air.

Malia shook her head and looked at Scott. "Well, that was pointless… Please tell me we didn't leave my ice cream in the car."

Scott winced. "I'll go get it."

"No." She grabbed for him, her fingers folding around his forearm. "It's just ice cream. Let's not test fate."

He half-smiled. "I need to go lock the door behind Derek anyway. And the car is parked pretty close."

Hesitating, she chewed her lip.

Scott covered her hand with his own. His face was soft and knowing as he said, "You can watch me from the door."

"Fine…" She handed him the knife. "Take this, too."

Grinning now, he accepted it and nodded. "Okay."

They left his room and made their way back downstairs, with Malia searching the bottom floor for any sign that someone was still lurking around. She wouldn't be surprised if Derek was hiding in some dark corner somewhere. Then again, he seemed pretty eager to leave. Whatever that spiral meant, it didn't sound like it was a good sign.

Scott pulled the front door open and a shaft of cold air flooded in.

Malia shivered and crossed her arms. "Be quick."

He nodded and stepped out onto the porch, his looked left and then right, searching for any sign of the alpha. After a beat, he walked toward the car, hopping off the stairs and circling around to the passenger side. He popped the door open and searched around inside.

Malia stepped outside, her fingers dug into her arms.

Finally, after what seemed like entirely too long, Scott popped back out of the car, holding the ice cream carton up triumphantly. Grinning, he closed the door, and made his way back to her. "Barely melted. I don't know where the spoons are, though."

Malia grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him inside the house, backing up as she went. It wasn't until the door slammed closed and the deadbolt was turned that she felt a little safer. "Okay." She walked to the kitchen then, dug out a pair of spoons, and returned to the base of the stairs. "What time's your mom off?"

"Late. But, she's getting a ride from one of the other nurses, so I don't have to pick her up."

Malia nodded and started climbing the stairs. "We'll set an alarm."

"For what?"

"For when she should be home. Then we can keep an eye out, make sure she gets inside."

"Oh. Smart." He followed her up the stairs. "Hey, you said something happened at Allison's. What was it?"

Sighing, she led the way into his room and kicked off her shoes. She crawled across his bed and took a seat with her back against the pillows, her legs crossed beneath her. "So, Allison's working on a history project, right?" Her brows hike meaningfully. "Something that relates to her family…"

Scott nodded. He joined her on the bed, sitting next to her, his legs outstretched in front of him.

"Kate told her to look up some French thing. The Beast of Gev-something. Anyway, it's definitely a werewolf and I guess one of Allison's ancestors killed it." Malia peeled the top off the ice cream and dug a spoon in. "I don't know, it just felt like Kate was testing things out. She plants the seed and then she sees what comes of it. Let's Allison do her own research and when she comes asking questions, Kate can fill in the blanks however she wants."

Scott frowned. He reached for the second spoon and dug out a bite of his own. "So, what do we do?"

Her shoulders slumped. "I don't know. We can't exactly tell her werewolves are real. Even if we do and we give her proof, how do we know she'll side with us? What if it just scares her and sends her running to her family?"

Scott sighed. "I don't think there's an easy solution to this."

"Yeah. Which sucks. Why can't any of this be easy?"

He half-smiled and bumped her elbow with his. "At least we're dealing with it together, right?"

Her mouth twitched. "Right."

Scott clinked their spoons together. "Maybe we should just do what we've been doing… Be her friend, show her we're normal people."

"Yeah." She paused and her gaze wandered over to him. "Hey, you and Allison, are you two still… together?"

Scott looked up, his eyes wide. "What?"

"It's just… She said something to Kate. That you and her were just casual." Her brow furrowed. "When did that happen?"

"Uh…" His face flushed. "Monday. We talked about it after you and Stiles left and… We, uh, we like each other, but we don't… We're not…" He stared at her searchingly. "She said you had the right idea, with Cole. That we could still have all the benefits but not be… serious. So, we're gonna try that."

"Oh." She frowned. "You're okay with that? I mean… I thought you really liked her."

"I do. I just… Maybe not as much as I should." He shook his head. "You know what I mean?"

Malia's brow furrowed. "Was this her idea or your idea?"

"I think it was kind of mutual." He sighed. "Allison's great. She's smart and nice and beautiful. But…"

"But?"

"I…" He met her gaze for a long, heavy moment. Malia's heart beat a loud staccato against her chest. "Uh…" He blinked and looked away. "Everything is so crazy right now. I just feel like it's not the best time to be dating. Not until I have more control or we figure out how to deal with the alpha."

Malia stared at his profile for a moment and then nodded. "That makes sense."

He looked up, a brow raised. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "And she's okay with it?"

"The benefits part was her idea."

Malia snorted. "I guess this people with benefits thing is catching on."

He half-smiled.

Scooping out another bite of ice cream, Malia sunk back against the pillows once more. "Tonight was weird."

"Really weird," he agreed.

"Plus, you lost your phone."

Scott groaned. "Don't remind me."

Malia handed him the ice cream, snorting when he scooped out an oversized bite.

…

It was nearly midnight when Scott woke to the vibration of Malia's phone rattling against the bedside table. He reached for it, thumbing the volume down button before it could let out a shriek that would wake her up. The alarm was to let him know his mom should be home soon. He settled his head back against the pillow, but kept his ears open for any approaching cars. So far, the outside world was mostly quiet. Malia was asleep next to him, resting on her stomach, her face pressed against his side, arm stretched over his stomach. He smiled down at her, reaching out to gently brush her hair back from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. She let out a little sigh and rubbed her face against him.

That moment when he could see the alpha right behind her, his heart had lodged itself in his throat and froze. He swore he stopped breathing until she was in his arms and the door was closed behind her. It seemed like the last few weeks had been a roller coaster. As soon as he started to feel safe, something went wrong, and they were sent plummeting downward with no guarantee they would ever come back up. As much as they walked away unscathed, he couldn't help feeling like their luck was running out and eventually, they wouldn't be able to outrun the inevitable.

In the distance, a rumbling engine could be heard. Scott looked up at the window and then down, to Malia. Trying not to wake her up, he carefully extracted himself. Taking her wrist, he lifted her arm, laying it back down against the bed as he slid out. Pulling the blanket up around her, he tucked it at her shoulders and padded across the floor. He took the stairs two at a time and hopped off three from the floor. Hurrying to the door, he unlocked it and swung it open. His mom was just climbing out of her co-worker's car, hooking a bag over her shoulder as she turned to face him. Scott stepped out onto the porch, tense and on guard as she crossed the yard. She had to circle the front end of the car to reach the porch steps and shook her head as she saw him.

"Could you park any closer?"

He half-smiled and reached for her bag. "Sorry. There were a lot of groceries." He waited for her to walk inside before following her. Closing and locking the door, he felt some of the tension bleed away. "How was work?"

"Long." She unzipped her jacket and hung it up as she kicked her shoes off. Dragging the elastic from her hair, she ran her fingers through it and then eyed him curiously. "What're you still doing up? You've got school tomorrow."

"I know. I just wanted to make sure you got home." He shrugged. "Keys are in the dish. I filled it up before I got home."

"Great." She smiled. "I'm going to have something to eat before I go to bed…" She reached out for her bag and then eyed him curiously. "Did you need anything? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine." He nodded quickly. "I should get to bed. Early morning. Night."

"Goodnight…"

Scott hurried up the stairs and down the hall. He slipped back into his room quietly, closing and locking the door behind him. Malia was still exactly as he'd left her, lit in a faint blue. He crawled back into bed and pulled the blanket around him, turning over onto his side. She shifted around and scrunched her nose. "She home?"

"Yeah," he whispered.

"No problems?"

"Nope. She's fine."

Malia nodded faintly and fell right back to sleep.

Scott smiled to himself, shook his head, and let his eyes fall closed.

He listened to his mom moving around downstairs, humming under her breath as she put together a sandwich. Content that she was safe, he turned his attention elsewhere. Malia's steady heartbeat filled his ears, drowning out all else. His breathing fell into sync with hers and in just a few minutes, he was lulled to sleep.

…

It was early when Malia woke, the sun just barely creeping through the window. She tipped her head back and let out a tired sigh. As much as she didn't want to get out of bed, she needed to get home and change. But she was so warm and comfortable…

"What time's it?" Scott's voice rumbled against her neck.

Malia shivered, her hand flexing around the edge of the bed. His chest was pressed against her back, his arm stretched over her. Squinting at the alarm clock next to her, she frowned. "Almost six."

"If we go now, I can drive you home, sneak the car back before mom notices."

It was better than her walking home, but… Malia groaned. "But I'm warm…"

He laughed, thick and rough with sleep.

Malia smothered a smile and turned herself onto her back, shifting around to give him more room. He stayed on his side, his arm falling atop her stomach. She stared up at him in the muted morning light, his hair ruffled and his face soft, eyes half-closed and cloudy with sleep. Her heart rattled around in her chest, that bowling ball of feelings growing in her stomach. "Hey."

He propped his head up on his hand. "Hey."

"We weren't mauled to death in our sleep."

He laughed under his breath. "Nope."

"Tick one in the win column."

Yawning, he scrubbed his fingers over his eyes. "Day's only starting."

"That's the spirit." She stretched her legs out and took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's go. I need a shower and some different clothes."

Scott nodded. And then paused. "Uh, why don't you go first and I'll… change."

She raised an eyebrow. "If you fall back asleep…"

"Nope. Won't do that. Totally awake. Just…" He sat up, the blanket pooling in his lap. "Yeah, uh, I'll meet you downstairs in like… five minutes."

"Okay…" Malia eyed him for a moment before slipping out of bed. She circled around, grabbing up her clothes and balling them up as she went. The sweat pants and t-shirt she was wearing were too warm and comfortable to change out of now. Grabbing her phone off the bedside table, she walked to the door and tucked her feet inside her shoes. "Five minutes."

"Yup." He nodded, hunched forward and drumming his hand against his knee.

Leaving his room, she closed the door quietly behind her, and walked down the hall to the stairs. She glanced quickly at Melissa's closed bedroom door before sneaking down the stairs, wincing at every creak and whine. Just as she reached the bottom, she heard, "Scott?"

Malia froze, her eyes wide.

"What're you doing up this early? Are you feeling o…?" Melissa trailed off and Malia turned her head to see her standing a few feet away, her brows hiked. "I should be more surprised, but somehow… I'm not."

"It's not what you think." Malia smiled awkwardly. "I had a fight with my dad. I… I did something stupid and it backfired and he was mad and then I was mad and, uh… I left. And I wasn't ready to go home, I'm sorry." It wasn't a lie, exactly, but it wasn't the whole truth either. Which left her feeling off and wrong, because lying to Melissa was not something she did often, or ever if she could help it.

Melissa took a deep breath and then let it out slowly, her expression softening. "Come on." She nodded her head toward the kitchen. "You can tell me what happened… And then we can talk about why you skipped on Monday."

Sighing, Malia nodded. She walked to the kitchen, dragging her feet along the way. While Melissa poured herself a mug of coffee, Malia lingered at a distance, hands still clutching her clothes.

"What was the fight about?"

"Saturday." Malia shrugged. "I didn't tell him what happened… or that I was in the hospital."

Melissa frowned. "But we left messages… More than a few, actually."

"I deleted them." Malia chewed her lip. "When I got home, he was passed out on the couch and… He didn't know. He didn't hear the messages, so as far as he was concerned, nothing had changed."

Melissa stared at her searchingly. "And that hurt you."

"I…" Her throat burned. "I wanted him to care." She swallowed tightly. "I wanted him to worry about me. But he didn't."

"Because he didn't know." Melissa's voice was gentle and calming.

Malia shook her head. "You don't have to sugar coat it. He checked out a long time ago and he's okay with that. He's okay with not being involved. I thought he was changing, but I was wrong. He's not. He's just trying to make himself feel better. So, he talks to me sometimes, he notices me sometimes. But that's it. It's just brief moments in between the next six-pack when he realizes oh, hey, someone else lives in my house. That's it."

"Malia…" She pushed off the counter and walked to her. "What happened?"

"I told him the truth." Her mouth wobbled. "That he doesn't care and I'm tired of waiting for him to."

Melissa searched her face a moment and then nodded. She pulled Malia into a hug, her arms wrapping around her tightly.

Malia's chin hooked over Melissa's shoulder and she closed her eyes, sinking into the hug. "Sometimes I think… he wishes it was me. That he still had my mom or Kylie… That maybe he'd be different for them." Tears burned her eyes and dribbled out the corners.

"No." Melissa's arms tightened. "He's grieving and depressed and not coping, but that's not a reflection on you. He needs help. But you deserve to be loved. Do you understand?" She pulled back then and met Malia's eyes. "This is not your fault."

Malia nodded, a stuttered jerk of her head.

Smiling softly, Melissa reached up and rubbed away her tears with her thumbs. "Now, you wanna talk about what happened Monday?"

Sighing, she licked her lips. "It was Allison's birthday. I know that's not an excuse, but… I don't know. I think I still felt weird after Saturday and I just… I wasn't ready to be back at school. And Allison, she's never really had friends. I wanted to do something for her that she could remember. I wanted to make it special."

"I get that. And trauma has a weird way of manifesting. But next time, you talk to someone. If you needed a day off from school, okay. Talk to me. We'll figure something out. But all of you skipping, not a great plan. Especially when you have parent/teacher interviews."

"Yeah, you're right." She sniffled and rubbed a hand under her nose. "I'm doing okay, though. My grades, I mean. Math is up and I'm passing everything else." She half-smiled. "My math teacher actually said some pretty nice things."

"Yeah?" Melissa brightened. "See?"

Malia's smile withered. "Dad didn't show up. I told him about it ahead of time, he said he'd be there, but…" She shrugged.

Disappointed but not surprised, Melissa nodded. "What matters is that you know your hard work is paying off." She brushed Malia's hair back from her face affectionately. "I'm proud of you."

Malia's heart squeezed. "Thanks."

Melissa glanced past her shoulder then and her eyebrow raised. "And you… Is this why you were up so late?"

Malia turned to see Scott standing in the doorway, his eyes wide.

"Uh…" Scott attempted a smile. "She was really upset."

"Uh-huh." Melissa looked between them. "Why don't you shower and get changed? You can drop me off at work and then take the car for the day."

"Really?" Scott perked up. "Uh, okay. Cool." He started backing up.

"Scott?"

He paused. "Yeah?"

"I appreciate that you were being a good friend, but the next time Malia stays over, for any reason, you take the couch…" Melissa's expression was serious. "And you tell me."

Scott nodded. "Okay. I will."

While Scott hurried off, Malia waved a thumb at the fridge. "Orange juice?"

Melissa waved at her. "Help yourself."

…

On the ride to her house, Malia texted Stiles to let him know what was going on.

Stiles sent a shocked emoji, followed by —'chased you? did it catch you?'

She thumbed back a response. —'no I got into the car in time. but it left this weird spiral on the glass. we told derek about it and he looked freaked!'

—'derek? what was he doing there?'

Malia could practically feel Stiles' disapproval through the phone. —'he was hiding in scott's room. i don't know how he knew, but he did. he wouldn't tell us what the spiral meant. anyway the point is, things are getting serious. i don't know if it was following scott or trying to prove a point or what it was doing but we can't afford to be divided right now. i know you're still mad but we promised scott we would help him through this. i can't do this on my own'

When Stiles didn't reply, Malia let out an irritated sigh and shoved her phone in her bag.

"Stiles?" Scott asked knowingly.

"Yeah." She frowned. "I'll talk to him at school. He's just being stubborn."

Scott glanced at her. "Last night, in the parkade, Derek said there was another way to get control. That I had to tap into this animalistic rage."

Malia shifted in her seat to see him. "What?"

"Yeah. Angry is one thing, but rage…" His brows hiked. "How is that supposed to help?"

"I guess, for some people, when you get angry you get focused. I feel like that'd make for a really violent werewolf though. Wouldn't it make more sense to pick something that kept you calm and level headed?" She stared at him. "Didn't you say you found something? When you were hiding, you figured out something to focus on. What was it?"

Scott's brows hiked. "Uh… My mom."

"Oh." She nodded. "That makes sense."

"It does? I mean, yeah, it does."

Malia stared at him a beat and shook her head. "You're so weird."

"I'm just tired. I kept waking up."

"Why? Worried the alpha could show up?"

"Mm-hmm. Yeah." His hands flexed on the steering wheel. "What're you doing after school?"

"Studying with Danny. I have a test on Friday, so we're getting together to go over everything. You have a shift at the clinic, right?"

He nodded. "I was thinking, after, when you're done studying, you could come over again. If things are still weird at home, I mean."

Malia made a face. "If I stay over again, you're getting kicked to the couch, remember?"

"I can handle the couch. I just want you to be okay…" He looked at her searchingly. "Are you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You heard me talking to your mom…"

He grimaced. "I didn't mean to, exactly. But when I realized she was up, I was trying to figure out if I should come down or not and… Yeah."

"I'm okay. I'm still upset, but… I think you were right. I needed to say it. Even if he doesn't want to hear it."

Nodding, Scott reached out. His hand found hers, their fingers folding together and this thumb gently rubbing circles.

Malia squeezed back.

…

At school, Malia searched the halls for Stiles. Scott had taken off to get his books for first block, leaving her to her search. She was pretty sure it was just because he didn't want to have Stiles reject him again, though. He still wasn't answering her texts and she was tired of being ignored. Just as she was turning a corner, catching a flash of plaid in between crossing bodies and following it, she knocked into someone. Irritable, she looked up to snap at whoever was in front of her, only to find Jackson. Malia let out an exasperated sigh.

He readjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. "Still learning to walk, Tate."

"Something like that." She looked him over quickly. His skin seemed paper-thin and dark bags hung beneath his eyes. "You don't look so good. Have you been skipping your vitamins?"

He snorted. "Just tired. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Trust me, I won't. But you should. A lack of beauty sleep might catch up to you."

His mouth twitched faintly. "This has been fun, but I have places to be and better people to talk to."

She stepped to the side and motioned for him to pass her by. "Don't let me stop you."

He raised an eyebrow and scoffed but continued walking.

Malia rolled her eyes.

"Friendly," a voice said.

Her gaze cut to the right, where Boyd stood in front of an open locker. "Not the word I'd use to describe Jackson." She shrugged. "Entitled asshole comes to mind."

Boyd snorted and closed his locker. "Your skating improved any?"

"Sadly, no. How's the Zamboni?"

"Still not open to the public."

"Disappointing. But, I'll wear you down." She started backing up then. "See you around, Boyd."

"Yeah, later."

Malia turned on her heel, but just as she spotted Stiles, the bell rang. "Come on," she muttered. He was halfway down the hall and she still needed to get to her locker. Deciding they would just have to talk at break, she rerouted to her locker instead.

…

Waiting for class to start, Malia texted Stiles an angry emoji.

"Hey." Allison poked her in the back with her pen. "I texted you last night."

"Yeah, sorry." Malia tucked her phone under the pages of her notebook and turned around in her seat. "I got caught up with homework, it was a whole thing."

"It's fine." Allison dismissed it with a wave. "I'm sorry about how weird it got at the end, with Kate. I didn't think she'd hang around for so long."

"It's cool. And hey, I finally watched 'Easy A.'"

"And now have an unearned dislike for ride-on lawn mowers."

"Totally earned," Malia argued.

Allison shook her head and bit her lip to hide a grin. "Hang out with me at lunch? I was actually reading up on that Beast of Gévaudan stuff. It's weird, but kind of cool. I think I might actually write my paper on it."

"Yeah?" Malia's brows hiked. "You think your teacher will go for it?"

"Sure." She snorted. "It's better than writing about my Great-Great-Uncle who was some big-shot cricket player."

"Hey, some people like cricket… I don't know anybody, but there's gotta be a fanbase somewhere."

Allison laughed. "Yeah, in England. Anyway, I think the homicidal wolf is a little more attention-getting…"

"If you say so."

The teacher called their attention to the front of class then and Malia turned around. She tapped her pen against her notebook and frowned. She seriously needed Allison to shake this interest in her ancestor's hunting history, and fast.

…

At break, Malia hurried through the halls, weaving around people until she reached Stiles' class. The same that he shared with Scott, so she was only slightly surprised to see them leaving together. Relief swamped her as she fell into step next to them. "You're talking. Finally."

Stiles glanced at her. "You had a point before. Actually, multiple times. Look, I was freaking out a little bit. My dad doesn't know what's going on, which means he's running around out there, stuck in the dark about what he's really up against. The other night, when he got hurt, that could just be a small taste of what could happen. Not just to him, but to a lot of people." He turned to Scott, "And if this alpha is really out here chasing down you or Malia, right outside of a known hunter's house, then it's getting ballsy."

Malia nodded. "Right, which is why Derek wants Scott to work on his control."

Stiles' eyes widened. "Your continued trust in Derek never fails to bug me."

"I might not agree with his methods, but he's our best chance at teaching Scott."

"Maybe. Or maybe we can do this without him."

She frowned. "How?"

"Scott was just saying that Derek wants him to tap into some primal rage, right? Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but when he loses control, he's consumed by rage." He raised his eyebrows at Scott. "You said it all went red, right? And all you wanted to do was hurt people."

Scott nodded. "Yeah. First, the bus driver then Allison and Malia in the dream… I can't remember what happened in the woods, not exactly, but I know that I'm dangerous."

"Okay, well, you ask me, I think this whole primal rage thing is bull. If anything, we should be trying to keep you calm."

"How?" Malia wondered.

Stiles shook Scott's shoulder. "You said you had an anchor, right? Or you think you do. It works better than the whole mantra thing?"

"Yeah. Uh, I think it does." Scott shrugged. "I didn't get to test it much before he caught me."

"Then let's test it. We'll push your triggers, all of them, and see if this anchor does anything."

"That's it?" Malia frowned. "But we've already done that."

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, but I have a plan this time…"

…

At lunch, Malia found herself inside, sitting with Allison and Lydia in the cafeteria.

Allison had apparently raided the library and was currently nose deep in everything she could find on La Bête du Gévaudan. Malia eyed each book uneasily.

Lydia, on the other hand, could not be less interested. "The what of who?"

"The Beast of Gévaudan. Listen." Allison raised the book and read aloud, "'A quadruped wolf-like monster, prowling the Auvergne and south Dordogne areas of France during the year 1764 to 1767. La Bête killed over a hundred people, becoming so infamous that the King Louie the 15th sent one of his best hunters to try and kill it.'"

Malia's stomach curdled.

Lydia waved her fork. "Boring."

Allison was undeterred. "'Even the church eventually declared the monster a messenger of Satan.'"

"Mmm…" Lydia turned her eyes up thoughtfully before deciding, "Still boring."

"Come on…" Allison looked from her to Malia. "That's not weird or interesting?"

"Both," Malia admitted.

"See." Allison smirked at Lydia, who rolled her eyes, before returning to the book. "'Cryptozoologists believe it may have been a subspecies of hoofed predator, possibly a mesonychid.'"

Malia pulled a face. "Was that last word English?"

"A mesonychid is basically an extinct carnivorous mammal with hooved feet," Lydia informed her, before telling Allison, "The more you talk, the closer I am to slipping into a coma."

Allison ignored them. "'While others believe it was a powerful sorcerer who could shape-shift into a man-eating monster…'" Her voice trailed off as she raised her eyes to see if they were as interested as she was.

Malia frowned. "Were bears not a big deal back then? Does France not have bears?"

Lydia shook her head. "What does any of this have to do with your family?"

"Here… 'It is believed that La Bête was finally trapped and killed by a renowned hunter who claimed his wife and four children were the first to fall prey to the creature.'" She grinned then. "His name was Argent."

"Your ancestors killed a big wolf." Lydia's eyes widened. "So what?"

"Not just a big wolf. Take a look at this picture." She turned the book around to show them. "Now, I don't know about you, but that does not scream bear to me."

Lydia's face fell and she leaned forward, staring at the book with complete focus, her eyes growing wide.

"Lydia?"

Malia looked from the book to Lydia. She could see the resemblance to the alpha; a dark, hulking figure with red, rage-filled eyes.

"Lydia," Allison said again, her chin perched atop the book.

Startled, Lydia looked up, and quickly pasted a dismissive look on her face. "It looks… like a big… wolf." She shoved her tray away then and smiled sharply. "See you in history." With that, she was gone, her hair bouncing at her shoulders.

Allison watched her go, frowning. "That was weird, right?"

"I think she's still recovering from Saturday." Malia focused on Allison. "What do you think about it? The whole shape-shifting cannibal thing."

"I mean, it's crazy, right? Just people making up stories to explain things they didn't understand… That or maybe there was something in the water, I don't know." She laughed. "Whatever it is, it'll make for a good history essay."

"Yeah." Malia nodded, her gaze turned away thoughtfully. She spotted Stiles then, standing in the doorway to the cafeteria, waving at her to follow. "Uh, I have to go."

"What, too much time inside?" Allison teased.

Malia snorted as she stood. "Something like that." Hooking her bag over her arm, she said, "Text me later. I'm gonna be busy tonight with Danny."

"Studying for the math test?"

"Yup." She pulled a face. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck."

Malia made her way across the cafeteria then, pushing through the doors to find only Scott waiting in the hall. "Hey, what's up?"

"Stiles wants us to meet him on the lacrosse field. He's grabbing a few things that he said will help."

"We're testing your control out here? Now?"

Scott shrugged. "I guess. I have to be at the clinic after school, so this is the only time that really works."

Malia checked the clock on the wall and nodded. "Okay. We've got some time. But I need to be by study block. I can't exactly expect Danny to help me out tonight if I won't even show up for regular study sessions."

"Sure. No problem."

…

When Stiles arrived on the field, he was carrying his lacrosse bag and his stick. He plopped it down on a bench and started digging around in it. He held a long band out to Scott. "Here. Put that on."

Malia snatched it. "This is the lacrosse team's. It's a heart monitor."

"Yeah," Stiles said. "I borrowed it."

Scott's brows hiked. "Stole it."

"Temporarily misappropriated. Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs." Stiles dug around in the bag and came out with a phone. "And you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day."

Scott pulled a face. "Isn't that Coach's phone?"

"That I stole."

Malia rolled her eyes. "When'd you get sticky fingers?"

"When Scott's crap started infiltrating my life." He waved a hand around. "Also, because the monitor's already linked to his phone. It's just easier."

They stared at him.

Stiles sighed. "Look, when your heart rate goes up, that's when you go wolf, right? When you're playing lacrosse, when you get angry, when you were getting all hot and bothered at the party with Allison—"

"I vote we never use the words 'hot and bothered' again," Malia interrupted.

Scott pointed at her. "Agreed."

"The point is—" Stiles ignored them. "—maybe learning to control it is tied to your heart rate."

Scott's eyes widened. "Like the Incredible Hulk."

Stiles shrugged. "Kind of like the Incredible Hulk, yeah."

Scott grinned goofily. "Yeah, I'm like the Incredible Hulk."

"Would you shut up and put the strap on?"

Chuckling to himself, Scott held his hand out for the strap. Malia dropped it in his hand watched as he wound it around his waist and under his shirt. When it wouldn't stay in place, however, he shrugged his zip-up hoodie off and reached under his shirt, trying to readjust it.

"Here." Malia moved behind him and hiked his shirt up. She reached around him to make sure the monitor was centered, resting just under his pectoral muscles, and then slid a second strip over his shoulder and hooked it around the back of the band to keep it in place.

"Uhh…" Stiles held the phone up then as it started beeping loudly. "You all right, buddy?"

"Huh?"

Malia glanced at him from over Scott's shoulder. "That can't be right. It needs to get a general base line to work off of. There's no way your resting heart beat is at 120." Malia tucked her fingers under the band from behind and followed it around to the front, meeting in the middle. She checked that it was pressed against him properly, her nails scraping against his skin as she tugged on the monitor.

The beeping increased.

"What's he at now?"

Stiles looked from the phone to Scott and then back, squinting. "You know what, I think it's a glitch. I'm just gonna reboot the phone and start over." His brow furrowed as he looked up at them.

Malia shrugged and then looked at Scott. "Is that comfortable? It's not too tight."

"Yeah, mm-hmm, it's fine."

Malia patted his back and then leaned down, grabbing up his hoodie while he dropped his shirt back into place. "Here."

"Thanks." He stuck his arms through the sleeves and shrugged it on before running a hand through his hair. "Um, anything else?"

"Yeah." Stiles tossed Malia a roll of tape. "Bind his wrists. That way he can't defend himself."

Malia raised an eyebrow. "If he wolfs out, this isn't going to stop him."

"No, but it might give us a few extra seconds to run." He shrugged. "Plus, when I'm throwing balls at him, he can't just knock them away."

Malia rolled her eyes but turned to Scott and ripped up the end of the tape. "Ready?"

He turned around and held his arms behind him, his wrists pressed together. "Ready."

After he was officially bound in duct tape, they moved out to the center of the field. Stiles dropped his bag on the ground, filled with lacrosse balls, and put the phone on top of it so he could keep an eye on Scott's heart rate.

Scott faced them, kicking at the grass awkwardly. "This isn't exactly how I wanted to spend the rest of lunch… or my free period."

"All right." Stiles scooped up a ball. "You ready?"

"No."

"Remember, don't get angry."

"Starting to think this is a really bad idea," Scott muttered.

Stiles stepped back and then swung his stick, letting the ball soar forward. It knocked Scott center in the gut, pitching him forward as he grunted in pain.

Malia winced. She wrapped an arm around her waist while her other hand lingered at her chin, plucking at her lower lip worriedly. "90," she announced.

"Higher, but not high enough." Stiles threw another ball, and another and another.

Scott hunched sideways. "That kinda hurt."

"Stiles…" Malia stared at him. "Make sure you're doing this for the right reason."

He rolled the stick in his hands. "What reason is that?"

"To help."

His cheek ticked. "I'll admit, I was mad. I still kind of am. But that's not what this is about…" He scooped up another ball. "I was wrong. Scott couldn't prevent what happened in the parking lot. But only because he doesn't know what he's doing… We teach him that and the next time something like this happens, he'll be prepared."

She frowned. "Doesn't matter how much he prepares, things can still go wrong."

Stiles took another shot. It missed, but Scott still flinched.

"Remember," Stiles told him. "You're supposed to be thinking about your heart rate, all right? About staying calm."

"Stay calm." Scott started hopping in place. "Staying calm. Staying totally calm. There's no balls flying at my face—" A ball caught him hard in the chest and he grunted.

Malia sighed. "What about what we did last time? Less balls and more psychological junk."

"I thought you didn't like that approach." Stiles took another swing. "You said it hurt his feelings."

"Aah!" Scott cried. "Son of a bitch!"

"Yeah, well, better his feelings than his junk." Malia winced. "Are you aiming at all?"

Stiles shrugged. "I actually think my aim is improving."

"Wonder why," Scott snarked.

Malia checked the phone. "We're at 130."

Stiles tutted. "Don't get angry."

Scott glared. "I'm not getting angry."

Stiles threw again. And again. And again. Every hit landed— Scott's stomach, his shoulder, his leg.

Malia flinched with each one.

"Stop." Scott leaned forward, panting. He shook his head. "Just— Can we just hold—"

A ball hit him square in the stomach and he collapsed to the field. He hunched over, groaning, and Malia looked down as the numbers climbed on the phone. It jumped up to 140, 150, 160…

"Scott…" She walked toward him.

"Hey, hey, hey…" Stiles grabbed at her hand, pulling her back. "Scott, think of your anchor, all right? We have to test it, okay?"

Scott's forehead met the field. Malia could hear the choked noises he was making. She shook Stiles' hand off and crossed the space between her and Scott. "Think of your mom. Of what makes you safe." The beeping increased behind her and Malia felt her stomach twist and turn. Just short of him now, she knelt down and reached for him, her hand finding his shoulder. "Just breathe."

Suddenly, the tape around his wrists gave, and Scott pulled his hands forward, planting them flat on the ground. She could see his nails change; claws digging into the earth.

Malia felt her heart climb up her throat, but she didn't pull away. "You can do this. I know you can."

And then, the beeping slowed. Scott's body loosened up and his breathing evened out. He fell sideways to lay against the grass.

Malia sighed with relief. She ran her fingers through his hair gently, brushing it away from his eyes. "Hey, are you okay?"

He nodded and dropped his head down, letting it rest against her knee. "'m okay."

"So, it worked?" Stiles joined them, reaching out to pat Scott's shoulder. "You've got an anchor."

Scott shook his head. "I don't know. It was weird. It was like… the angrier I got, the stronger I felt. But when I thought of… When I focused on my anchor, it was different."

"Different how?"

"Derek said that an anchor can do both, right? It can stop me from shifting, but it could also help me shift at will, too." He turned over onto his back and stared up at them. "What if my anchor only helps me turn back?"

Stiles shrugged and looked at each of them. "Is that a bad thing?"

"It is if I'm fighting the alpha. If I can't shift, I can't do anything. I'm useless."

Malia frowned. "You're not useless. And you're just figuring this anchor stuff out. You've still got time." A bell rang in the distance then and she sighed. "But, I don't. I need to meet up with Danny. Look, this is just like anything else. You're learning it all from scratch. Now we know you can stop shifting when you need to. Next step is learning how to shift."

"Yeah." Scott nodded and pushed himself up to sit next to her. "I guess this helps for the full moon, at least."

"See. An upside." Malia stood and dusted the grass off her knees. "I'd say text me later, but you're still out a phone." She looked between them. "Skype later?"

They nodded.

With a wave, Malia turned on her heel and started back to the school. As much as Scott was seeing a downside, Malia was just relieved that they were making progress. Every little bit helped.

…

Malia was waiting outside the library for Danny to show. He was usually there before her and, since the librarians liked him better, was able to get one of the better tables. Resting her back against the wall, she scrolled through her phone and searched out Allison's name in her messages. Just as she opened their conversation, a shadow fell across her. She looked up to see Jackson standing next to her.

Malia's brow furrowed. "Are you lost?"

"Not exactly." He licked his lips. "Look, uh, I should've talked to you earlier, about Saturday…"

She stared at him a beat. His skin looked even pastier than it had that morning and his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. "Saturday?"

"Yeah. You know, when we were chased out of a video store by a blood-thirsty mountain lion?" He grinned, but it was all teeth. "Danny keeps telling me I should thank you."

"I didn't do anything." She shrugged. "Anyway, it's dead now, right?"

"Yeah." He nodded, his gaze skittering away. "Do you… I mean, the mountain lion on Monday… Are they sure it's the same one?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Right, yeah." He laughed, but it was stilted. "Hey, about earlier, I, uh, I'm sorry for being a dick. I feel like I do that a lot around you."

"And just about everyone I know." She raised an eyebrow. "Are you feeling okay? This genuine Jackson shtick is weirding me out."

"I'm fine. Just… I don't know. I guess I feel like I owe you an apology. You and Scott."

"Scott, too?" She snorted. "All right, either you have a fever or this is a body snatchers moment I did not sign up for…"

His gaze flattened. "Do you know what it's like to be the best player on the team? Hm? To be the star?" He scoffed. "To have every single person at the game chanting your name….? And then, some kid— Some kid just comes along, and everyone starts looking at him instead of you. Do you know what that feels like?"

Malia stared at him. "It's just a game, Jackson."

"It's not." His brows hiked. "Maybe for you or McCall or Stilinski it's just something you play. But for me… For me, it's everything. I wasn't handed my position. I worked for it." He shook his head. "And when something that you love, something that's yours, is gone, it feels like something's been stolen from you. And then you start to feel like you'd do anything… Anything in the world to get it back."

The intensity of his voice made Malia's skin crawl. Her hands tensed around the books she was holding. "Those are pretty big words…"

"Yeah, well, I'm an athlete. Go big or go home, right?"

Malia raised an eyebrow. "Why are you here, Jackson? You've never gone out of your way to talk to me before."

"I've been doing some thinking and… Maybe I want to make amends. After all, you saved my life right? We should start things off on a better foot." He nodded. "Scott's a part of the team now and… I should've been more welcoming."

"Shouldn't you be saying this to him then?"

He grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. "The way I see it, the quickest way to Scott is through you."

If he thought those words were supposed to be flattering, he was wrong. If anything, they sounded really damn threatening.

"I'm not so easy to go through." She pushed off the wall and tilted her chin. "And I tend to hold grudges."

Before Jackson could anything more, Danny appeared from around the corner. "Hey, sorry I'm late. I had to talk to one of my teachers…" His gaze darted between her and Jackson. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Totally fine." Jackson grinned, his gaze never leaving Malia. "I was just trying to get to know your new bestie."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Ignore him. He gets jealous easily."

Malia snorted. "I noticed."

"Anyway…" Danny reached for the door to the library. "We've got a study block. I'll see you later?"

Jackson nodded. "Yeah. Later."

As Danny made his way through the door, Malia stepped back, ready to follow. Jackson's eerie gaze followed her the whole way and, even as the door closed behind her, the weight of it hung heavy on her shoulders. She couldn't help feeling like there was something seriously wrong with him, even more than usual.

…

"Are we gonna talk about it?" Stiles looked over at Scott as they crossed the lacrosse field for the school. They had an Econ class starting in twenty minutes and Coach was not going to be happy if they were late.

"Talk about what?"

"Dude…" Stiles' brows hiked. "Your heart rate skyrocketed when Malia was helping you put the strap on."

Scott glanced at him, his eyes wide. "I thought you said it was a glitch."

"I lied. I only said that so she wouldn't realize it was her…" He stared at him searchingly. "What happened to Allison?"

"What? Nothing. What do you mean?"

"I mean, I thought you had a thing for Allison. You know, the girl you've been kind of, sort of dating for the last month…" He waved his hands around animatedly. "The same girl I keep telling you and Malia is a giant threat just waiting to blow up in our faces. That girl."

Scott sighed. "I do like Allison."

Stiles nodded. "Why am I sensing a 'but' here…"

"But… I think I like her more as a friend. I mean, I'm attracted to her, but it's just not…" He shook his head. "It's different."

"To what?"

He shrugged, his shoulders hunched up near his ears. "I just feel differently about her."

"Than who?"

Groaning, Scott tipped his head back. "Are you really gonna make me spell it out?"

Stiles stared at him.

Scott looked around quickly, feeling panicky. "You can't tell her."

"And by her, you're referring to…"

"Malia."

"So, you admit it then."

"Admit what?"

"You have feelings for Malia." Stiles squinted at him. "For how long? When did that happen?"

"I don't know… A few years ago."

"A few years?" Stiles' eyes widened. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want it to be weird."

Stiles knocked a hand against Scott's chest. "What's weird is that you didn't tell me!"

"I didn't want her to know. She doesn't think of me like that. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable." Scott's face fell. "And I thought if you knew then maybe she'd find out somehow."

"What, like I'd tell her? You think I'd do that?"

"No… Not on purpose. It's just…" He groaned. "I don't know. Maybe I thought you'd make fun of me for it."

"Did you make fun of me when I thought I had a crush on her?"

"Yeah, a little. But mostly 'cause you kept telling me about that dream you had."

Stiles shuddered. "Don't remind me."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Look, it doesn't matter. Me and Allison aren't together, not really. We're kind of just people with benefits… Or friends with benefits. I think we're trying to be friends, but there are still benefits… Whatever that's called."

Stiles dragged a hand down his face and muttered under his breath. "What did I ever do to deserve this?"

Scott frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means…" He took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. "Okay. Let's just curb the whole 'you should've told me' part of this, all right? Your anchor is Malia. I can't believe I didn't figure this out before… The night of the full moon, she was with you, she almost kept you from shifting. And then on the field, when I was saying all those things to trigger you, Malia talked you down. It wasn't just what she said, it was that she was talking to you. Her voice calmed you down. And then in the woods, when you caught up to her. Same thing. Instead of almost killing her like you almost killed me after practice, you listened to her. You let her calm you down. And later that night, at the game, when you shifted while you were playing, you heard her, didn't you?"

Scott nodded.

"Every time you've almost shifted, even when you actually have, Malia's been there. She does something to you. She— She connects with you in a way nobody else does… She anchors you."

Scott hesitated, but eventually let out a long breath. "I told her it was my mom. I panicked. Derek said to pick someone that made me feel safe and… Malia does that. She always has."

"Okay. All right." Stiles nodded. "So, you have feelings for Malia. She's your anchor. And you… are hooking up with one of her closest friends. The daughter of a werewolf hunter. Uh-huh. Yeah." He shook his head. "This is definitely going to blow up in everyone's face."

"What?"

"Does Allison know?"

"Know what?"

Stiles stared at him like he was an idiot. "That you had a stamp collection when you were six, what do you think? That you have feelings for Malia!"

Scott's shoulders slumped. "She figured it out on Monday. That's part of why we broke up."

"Oh my God…" He dragged his hands back over his hair. "Was she mad? Did she cry? If she finds out you're a werewolf, is she going to funnel that rage into killing you?"

"Huh? No. She was actually pretty good about it. I think she kind of felt the same way. That we just didn't click like we were supposed to." He shrugged. "She's fine with it."

Stiles blinked at him. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Scott nodded. "She's the one that suggested we just do the casual benefits thing."

Stiles shook his head. "I can't tell if you're insanely lucky or destined for doom…"

Scott's brow furrowed.

"What are you going to do about Malia?"

Scott blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you can't keep this secret forever." Stiles waved his hands around. "You have to tell her."

"What? No! Why does everybody keep saying that?"

"Uh, because it's true. And also, who else is saying that?"

"Derek for one."

Stiles frowned. "Look, Scott, she's your best friend, okay? Trust me. You need to talk to her."

"Not now. Not like this."

"Then when, huh? You already spent what, three years hiding it. Where's that got you?"

"Three extra years of friendship that wasn't awkward. What if she rejects me? Or worse, she feels like she has to date me because we're friends and she doesn't want to hurt my feelings!"

Groaning, Stiles reached out and caught Scott by the shoulders. "First of all, Malia is the last person who would date anyone she didn't want to date. And second of all…" He couldn't tell him. That was up to Malia. Stiles couldn't break her confidence by sharing what he knew about the situation. "Second of all, you can't spend your whole life hiding from this. If you're not over her yet, you're not getting over her any time soon. So, just deal with it. Tell her the truth." With that, he released Scott and continued the last little bit to the school.

Sighing, Scott followed after him. "Can't I wait until the alpha stuff is out of the way?"

Stiles turned his eyes toward the ceiling. These two idiots were gonna be the death of him, he just knew it.

tbc

author's note: just a heads up, the jackson scene was meant to be weird and intense. in the show, jackson has visions of a monster crawling out of his mouth. it's implied that he hasn't been sleeping and he's freaked out by the attack on saturday and from derek piercing his neck with his claws. while not mentioned in chapter, jackson also sees scott, stiles, and malia on the field, testing his control, and gets even more suspicious. so one of the reasons that jackson approaches malia is because he wants to know what's going on and he knows that she probably knows, being one of the people derek mentioned, or at the very least she can tell him what's going on with scott. in the show, he approaches allison and plays friendly, but jackson's already mentioned in a previous chapter that he knows how close malia and scott are, so it makes more sense for him to focus on malia. she's not interested in his faux friendliness and can see something's up, but she's also a little bit worried, because he really doesn't look good. :/

i was really hoping to get this posted on saturday or sunday, but at least it's not wednesday, lol. i'm slowly making my way back to the regular posting schedule. i thought we'd get to the end of episode 6 in this chapter, but then i ended up fleshing out a few different scenes and adding even more, so the next chapter will pick up the rest of episode 6 and then we move into episode 7. i have to admit, the next chapter is gonna be one of my favorites and i think you guys'll like it too because it has something a looot of you have been asking about... :)

also, by next chapter i see the rating jumping up to Mature, if only for violence, so just a head's up. eventually, it will become explicit, though i think that might end up happening in the season 2 story rather than this one. we'll see where the characters go. i don't know how you guys feel about smut though, so let me know!

things to look forward to next chapter: deaton gets a visit from derek; malia and danny friendship; scott tests out his roar; and the school suffers an alpha attack. ;)

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