word count: 13,900
polyvore: username is 'sarcasticfina' - check under Collections for one named after this story to see all of Malia's fashion choices
episodes: 1x07 - night school

warning(s): explicit violence and discussion of gore/blood

XIX

It was in the lobby that Scott and Stiles ran into Allison, who looked simultaneously freaked out and relieved to see them. He walked toward her, shaking his head. "What're you doing here?"

Hugging an arm around herself, she glanced away, confused. "Because you asked me to."

Scott pulled a face. "I asked you to?"

"Yeah… you sent me a text, you said it was urgent." She thumbed through her messages on her phone and then showed it to him. "I texted Malia to see what was going on, but she never answered. I was worried, so I thought I should check it out, make sure you were okay."

"Malia's in the library." Stiles rubbed a hand over his head, scrubbing his fingers down his neck. "We're headed there now."

Allison shook her head. "What are you guys even doing here, and why did you text me?"

Scott rubbed his hands over his face. "I didn't text you. I lost my phone!"

Allison's face fell. "Then who did?"

"Never mind that." Stiles' brows hiked. "Did you drive here?"

She frowned. "Jackson did."

"Jackson's here, too?" Scott shot Stiles a look. They already had enough on their plate, now they had to add Jackson, too?

"And Lydia. They're waiting outside. What's going on? Who sent this text? And why would they want me to come to the school? This makes no sense!" Allison's phone started ringing then. Checking the screen, she answered it. "Lydia, hey. Just give me a few minutes, I'm trying to figure out—"

The door behind Allison swung open then, admitting an annoyed Lydia and Jackson. "Finally," Lydia said, putting her phone back in her purse. "Can we go now?"

Allison nodded, but Scott and Stiles shared a look. It wasn't that simple, proven abruptly by the thudding noise that echoed from above. Raising his eyes to the ceiling, Scott tracked the rustling noise as it moved along the ceiling panels. The added weight of what he was sure had to be the Alpha was making the metal creak and whine. Dust and debris fell from above, a sign that it wasn't going to hold.

Deciding it was smarted to react than to wait, he shouted, "Run!"

…

Trisha was hesitating. She stood before the door that led down the right side of the hallway, keys jangling in her hand. "Are we really sure this is serious? When Al hears his messages, he'll realize where we are and I just know he'll come let us out."

"We don't have time for that." Malia stared at her insistently. "Look, we're not hanging around to vandalize the school or something." She waved a hand at Danny. "You really think he'd go along with that?"

Danny offered his most charming grin, dimples and all.

Trisha sighed. "I could lose my job if anything happens."

"There are worse things." Malia nodded toward the lock. "All we want to do is get out of this school. If you don't mention it to anyone, neither will we."

Searching Malia's face, Trisha finally drew a deep breath. She unlocked the chain, pulled it free, and pressed down on the lever. Pushing the door, she kicked the stand down to prop it open and waved them through.

Malia went first, checking every shadowy corner for signs that they weren't alone. She couldn't hear anything but the soles of their shoes squeaking against the floor. While she wasn't exactly a fan of school, she'd never been afraid to walk its halls. Here, now, she was.

Erica kept close to her, fiddling with the hanging strap of her bag. "Now what?"

"You go ahead and find an exit," Trish told them. "I'm going to find Al and see if we can't sort this out."

Malia shook her head. "You shouldn't go alone."

Trish waved a hand dismissively. "A few rowdy teenagers don't scare me."

"I don't think that's what this is." Malia gritted her teeth. "We should stay together until we get out."

"You three can do exactly that." Trisha pointed down the hall and then hung her lanyard around her neck once more. "Go. I'll see you all in school tomorrow."

A well of warning formed in Malia's stomach and her fingers twitched anxiously. But there was nothing she could do or say that was going to change the librarian's mind. Instead, she had to watch her leave, all the while hoping she didn't become the Alpha's next victim.

Erica abruptly turned to face Malia. "We should have weapons, just in case."

Danny frowned. "Like what?"

"I have a bat in my locker."

Malia's brows hiked. "Why?"

"I like to play softball at lunch sometimes. It helps relieve stress."

Shrugging, Malia said, "Okay. Not a bad idea."

"What about us?" Danny wondered. "I left my lacrosse stick at home."

Malia thought it over. They were in a school, so the best they were going to do was find a few meter sticks. Her gaze fell then, and landed on the chain hanging from the door handle. "Here." Pulling it free of the lever, she handed it to Danny.

Holding it across the palms of both hands, he stared down at the chain a long second. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"If you slap someone in the face with it, it'll hurt." Malia nodded. "You wanna get really violent, you can wrap it around their neck."

He squinted at her. "Sometimes you scare me."

Malia sighed and turned to Erica. "Let's find your locker."

Nodding, Erica started walking, and the other two followed.

...

A panicked Allison was freaking out as she stood in the dark and empty cafeteria.

Derek Hale.

That was who Scott said had attacked them. Who had crashed through the lobby ceiling and chased them here, to a terrible hiding spot with too many windows. Vaguely, she found herself thinking that her next lunch hour would definitely be spent with Malia— outside, under her tree. As if in answer to that thought, Allison's phone buzzed in her hand. Turning it over, she found Malia's name staring back at her.

"Malia?" Allison hated that her voice shook. Hated that the fine tremble that had started as soon as Scott yelled 'run' and hadn't stopped was making the phone knock against her ear.

Scott whipped around to face her, his eyes wide.

Scrubbing her fingers through her hair, Allison tucked it behind her ear. "Where are you?"

"I'm in the school." Malia's voice was pitched low, like she was trying to whisper. "Where are you? You said you got a text from Scott? He lost his phone."

"I- I know." She huffed a near hysterical laugh. "The text said it was him, that it was urgent. I- I was worried."

"Allison, you need to get out of the school. Right now."

"I can't." Allison squeezed her eyes closed as they burned. "It's too late. We're barricaded in the cafeteria."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me, Lydia, Jackson, Scott and Stiles."

Malia sighed. "Damn it."

"Where are you?" Allison opened her eyes and rubbed at her forehead. "Are you in the library? Can you get out?" Lydia crowded closer to her, her hand winding around Allison's forearm.

Scott had crossed the floor, searching her face as she spoke.

"The door outside the library was blocked. We can't get out that way. But the librarian has a key, she let us into the main part of the school."

"No. Go back." Allison shook her head. "He can get to you."

"I have a feeling he'd get to us either way," she muttered. "Look, find somewhere safe to hide. All of you. Stay as quiet as you can. And when I say quiet, I mean quiet… I'm going to find you guys, okay?"

"Malia…" Allison gnawed at her lip and hugged an arm around herself, crossing it over her chest and hooking it over her shoulder. "Be careful."

"I will." In a strange way, her certainty comforted Allison. "Can you put Stiles on?"

"Yeah. Sure." Allison handed the phone to Stiles, while Lydia started peppering her with questions.

"Hey." Stiles backed away from the group, moving to the window and turning to try and keep the conversation private. "Guess how many windows are in the cafeteria?"

"Too many."

"Yeah." He snorted. "You're telling me."

"Look, I have an idea." Malia sighed. "It's not fully formed yet, but it's getting there."

Stiles nodded hurriedly. "Oh, I'm definitely open to hearing it."

"I'm going to create a distraction and you guys are going to find a better hiding place."

"Yeah." His brows hiked and he scrubbed a hand over his hair. "And how are you going to do that?"

"I'll get creative. Where's the jeep?"

"Out front, but it's useless." He threw a hand up, despite knowing she couldn't see him. "The, uh, the Alpha removed the battery and threw it through the window. Jackson parked out there, though."

"Just what I always wanted, a shiny toy car." She paused a moment. Her next question was softer, gentler. "Are you okay?"

He snorted. "Physically or psychologically?"

"Both."

"No, not really." He shook his head and chewed the inside of his cheek. "We— We're not hurt, but…"

"Yeah. I get it."

"The, uh… The janitor is dead." He closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers along the length of his nose. "We watched it happen."

"Stiles…"

"Yeah, just the first of many traumas, right?"

"I'm sorry. That's— It's screwed up."

Stiles ground his teeth and nodded. "But you're okay? You're safe?"

"Yeah. We haven't had any run-ins. So far, anyway." She let out a heavy sigh. "Just sit tight, okay? Try to keep them calm, but be ready to run. There's gotta be a room somewhere with less windows."

"Okay, yeah." His brow furrowed. "But, how will I know you've set off your distraction?"

Her voice was wry as she said, "You'll know."

With a click, she hung up.

Lowering it, Stiles stared at the blank screen a beat and then walked back to the group. He handed the phone off to Allison and then turned to Scott, checking in that he'd heard everything. When he got a nod back, he faced the others. "Malia's working on a way to get to us. She's got a plan to lure Derek away, so we'll have time to get out of here and somewhere else."

"Am I the only one wondering the obvious?" Jackson's brows hiked. "Why aren't we calling the police?"

Stiles flinched. "No."

Jackson scoffed incredulously. "W-What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean no. You wanna hear it in Spanish? No." His eyes shot wide, brows hiked dramatically. "Derek killed three people, okay? We don't know what he's armed with."

"Your dad is armed with an entire Sheriff's department!" Jackson's voice raised with his increasing frustration. "Call him."

Lydia dug around in her purse until she found her phone. "I'm calling."

"No, Lydia, would you just hold on a sec—" Stiles attempted to follow her, but Jackson got in the way, shoving at his chest to push him back.

Scott crossed the room and put himself between Jackson and Stiles, a hand outstretched to keep Jackson at bay. "Hey…" He stared Jackson down, who merely glared back.

Lydia's worried voice drew their attention then. "Yes, we're at Beacon Hills high school. We're trapped, and we need you to—" She stopped. "But…" Lowering her phone, she stared at it, confused. "She hung up on me."

Allison's brow furrowed. "The police hung up on you?"

"She said they got a tip warning them that there were gonna be prank calls about a break-in at the high school. She said if I called again that they're gonna trace it and have me arrested."

"Okay, then call again!" Allison insisted.

"No, they won't trace a cell. And they'll send a car to your house before they send anyone here." Stiles shook his head. "They're not coming."

…

Danny and Erica huddled together, flinching at any and every sound. Erica gripped her bat tightly, letting it rest against her shoulder, while Danny held either end of the chain in his hands, the rest of it hanging slack.

When Malia rejoined them, Danny informed her that he'd tried calling 9-1-1 but they'd hung up on him, something about the police getting a tip about crank phone calls involving the school.

Malia wasn't sure if she was relieved or not. At least that limited the chances of Sheriff Stilinski getting hurt, but it also meant that the Alpha had planned at least part of this. Did they call in and leave a tip before transforming into the wolf and attacking, or were they working with someone? All she knew for sure was that a third victim lay dead in the school and they were all at risk of being the fourth.

Tapping her phone against her hand, Malia looked from Danny to Erica. "Listen, I've got some bad news..."

Erica froze, while Danny simply stared, waiting.

"The custodian is dead."

"What?" they both exclaimed.

Malia waved her hands to quiet them and looked around quickly. Everything seemed just as quiet as before, but she couldn't help feeling like everything they did or said made them a bright, red target. "We're not the only ones here. Stiles saw someone kill the custodian."

"Kill?" Erica shook her head. "No. No, no, no… I can't do this again. I can't f-find bodies a-and run for my life. I can't."

"Erica…" Malia caught her the shoulders and held her steady. "I've got a plan, okay? We're going to get out of this."

"How do you know?"

Malia cast a quick look at Danny, who was more than a little unnerved as well. "I know you're scared. I'm scared, too. But freaking out isn't going to help us." She stared at Erica. "Take a deep breath, okay?"

Erica hesitated, but eventually drew in a shaky breath.

"Whatever happens, I'm going to be right here with you." She turned to Danny, her brows arched for emphasis. "Both of you."

Danny nodded back.

"Now…" Malia stepped back. "Let's get out of here."

"What about Trisha?"

Malia shook her head. "She could be anywhere. We'll get out, get help, and they can find her." Turning on her heel, she faced the ominously dark and empty hallway ahead. Taking a deep breath, she started walking.

…

Scott paced around the cafeteria, wringing his hands worriedly. Malia was out there. Sure, she had a plan, but he was completely left out of the loop on it. Why didn't she want to talk to him? Why Stiles and not him? Maybe it was petty or stupid to wonder about, but it hurt, and it made him feel even more unsteady than before. She was out there and she could walk right into the Alpha's path at any moment and he couldn't do anything. Not while he was here, trapped behind their makeshift barrier of tables and chairs.

Dragging his hands over his face, he groaned. He needed to focus. To calm down. If he did that, maybe he could find her, at least with his ears. Scott tried to breathe through it— he drew a deep breath, counted, and then let it out. Three times, he did this, but his head kept coming up with more and more gruesome ways for Malia to end up hurt. He needed to anchor himself, but Malia was his anchor. Maybe Derek was right. Maybe having people for anchors was too unstable.

No.

No. Because Malia had only ever been there for him, even on his worst days, when everything felt like it was slipping out from under him. When his dad wouldn't answer his calls and trips to visit kept getting cancelled. When he was ten and he got into a fight with him mom and then worried she might leave him, too. When his whole world turned on its head because he was bitten and turned into something against his will. Malia was always there. And she didn't always have to say something— sometimes there just weren't words— but she held his hand and she hugged him and even when she didn't say the words 'it's going to be okay,' he felt them.

Thump... thump... thump...

Her heartbeat filled his ears and with it came a warm blanket of reassurance.

"Damn it," she muttered. "How is every door in this entire hallway locked?"

"We should've asked Trisha to leave us her keys..." Danny sighed. "What do we do?"

"We keep looking. There has to be a door somewhere that isn't blocked."

"Serious question, who the hell is blocking them?" a girl asked, her voice unfamiliar to Scott. "I- I mean, this is weird, right? First Saturday and now today."

"Saturday was different," Malia said.

"Was it?" The girl's voice went up a notch, wavering with fear. "The mountain lion is dead, right? So why does it feel the same? Like we're being stalked by something!"

"I don't know. Okay? I don't have all the answers." Malia huffed, sounding frustrated. "But I do know that standing around here isn't going to change anything. We need to keep moving. Eventually, we're going to find a door... There's only so many dumpsters and crowbars lying around…"

"I don't understand this." Allison's fear-soaked voice sounded especially loud.

Scott had to shake his head and refocus on the room around him instead of wherever in the school Malia, Danny, and an unknown girl were hiding. She was okay, he told himself. That was all that mattered.

Allison looked around at the group and threw her hands up. "Why does Derek want to kill us? Why is he killing anyone?"

Scott looked up to find everyone staring at him. "Why is everyone looking at me?"

"Is he the one that sent her the text?" Lydia wondered, her voice shrill and scared.

"No. I mean—" He shook his head. "I- I don't know."

Allison stared at him, her brow knit. "Is he the one that called the police?"

Scott's frustration and fear boiled over. There was so much he couldn't say and so much he was worried about. Trying to keep it from them wasn't helping things. "I don't know!"

Allison's face fell and she stepped back, turning on her heel to face away from him.

"All right, why don't we ease back on the throttle here, yeah?" Stiles pushed at Scott's shoulder, dragging him away from the others. "Okay, first off, throwing Derek under the bus, nicely done."

"I-I-I didn't know what to say. I had to say something. And if he's dead then— Then it doesn't matter, right? Except if he's not…" He groaned. "Malia's gonna be so pissed."

"Uh, yeah, definitely." Stiles nodded. "Bigger issues at hand here, like how do we get out alive?"

"But we are alive." Scott turned to him, his eyes wide. "It could've killed us already." It was like the girl said—they felt like they were being stalked, but they hadn't been attacked. "It's like it's cornering us or something."

"So, what?" Stiles waved a hand and shook his head. "He wants to eat us all at the same time?"

"No. Derek said it wants revenge."

"Against who?"

Scott looked away thoughtfully. "Allison's family?"

Realization dawned on Stiles. "Maybe that's what the text was about. Someone had to send it."

"And that's why the Alpha was outside her house the other night. It chased Malia, right? But it didn't attack her. Or me. Maybe this was all a way to get to Allison."

"Okay, assheads— new plan!" Jackson announced, effectively drawing their attention. "Stiles calls his useless dad and tells him to send someone with a gun and decent aim. Are we good with that?" He looked around at everyone, brows hiked.

Scott closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers down the length of his nose. When he opened his eyes, he said, "Malia is working on something. She's got a plan."

"You really think we should risk our lives hoping that Terrible Tate manages to pull something together that outwits a freaking serial killer?" Jackson scoffed. "No. I'm not waiting for her to pull off a miracle. We're getting out of here— now." He stabbed a finger in Stiles' direction. "Call. Your. Dad."

Stiles looked at Scott, saying quietly, "I'm not watching my dad get eaten alive." Shaking his head, he walked away.

Jackson rushed him. "All right, give me the phone." He grabbed at Stiles' shoulder.

As Stiles turned, he swung his fist out, connecting sharply with Jackson's face.

Jackson went stumbling sideways, bent over and clutching at his nose.

Allison's eyes shot wide, her hands stacked over her mouth in surprise.

Lydia stood, hugging her arms around herself.

Kneeling on the floor, Jackson tentatively probed his nose and mouth, his fingers coming back with blood.

Unrepentant, Stiles stared down at Jackson's bent form and rung his aching hand. "We wait for Malia. If nothing happens, then I'll call."

…

"Do you have any idea how heavy dumpsters are?" Danny wondered. "And why would they block all the exits anyway?"

Malia glanced at him. "Well, it's not to spice up the school's aesthetic…"

Erica's eyes darted all around nervously. "What if they're in here? What if they can hear us?" She looked over her shoulder, checking the hall behind them, and her breathing started to pick up. "We should've gone with the librarian. She has the key." Nodding quickly now, she said, "We have to go back! We have to find her!"

Malia pulled to a stop. "We can't do that. Backtracking wastes time."

"We don't even know where we're going! What if we get to the end and there isn't a way out? What if—?"

"Erica, hey, you need to calm down…"

"I can't!" Her breathing was erratic now and Malia recognized the signs of a full-blown panic attack easily enough. "I was just getting over the nightmares. I can't do it all over again."

Malia crossed the floor to her. "You're stressing out and it could trigger a seizure. You need to breathe."

With tear-filled eyes, she shook her head. "I can't. I c-can't."

"All right, okay." Malia gripped her shoulders. "I used to get panic attacks all the time. I'm going to show you something that help me, okay? "She nodded. "I want you to sing with me. Just focus on what I'm saying."

Erica's brow furrowed.

Clearing her throat, Malia nodded along to the beat in her head. "If you wake up and don't want to smile, if it takes just a little while, open your eyes and look at the day, you'll see things in a different way... Don't stop thinking about tomorrow, don't stop, it'll soon be here... It'll be here, better than before... Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone..."

Danny walked over too, his— admittedly better— voice melding with hers. "Why not think about times to come? And not about the things that you've done? If your life was bad to you, just think what tomorrow will do..."

Malia smiled encouragingly as they launched into the chorus again and Erica's mouth started to move along with them. She was still breathing a little too quick, but she was calming down.

Resting her head against the lockers behind her, Erica closed her eyes.

"All I want is to see you smile, if it takes just a little while, I know you don't believe that it's true, I never meant any harm to you..."

After another round with the chorus, Erica opened her eyes. "Okay. I- I'm okay."

"Good." Malia let her go and stepped back. "I know it's hard, because we don't know what's out there or what's going to happen. But we have a bat and a chain and if worse comes to worst, I'll personally claw their eyes out, okay?"

Sniffling, Erica reached up and wiped at her face. "Okay."

Malia started down the hall once more, Erica and Danny just behind her. "We just have to find another way out. If the doors are a bust… Then we need to use a window." Ahead, the hallway looking out onto the quad had an entire row of windows.

Erica frowned. "We're on the second floor."

"Plus, the windows are climate locked," Danny said. "We can't open them."

"I don't think we have to worry about that." Walking ahead, Malia spotted shattered glass spread across the floor. A cool wind was coming in through the broken window, making a faint whistling noise. Coming to a stop in front of the broken window, she leaned out, taking a look at the ground below. It wasn't an easy drop, but it was survivable. There were a few bushes below, too. If they landed in them, it would soften the fall. At least a little. "Okay." Nodding, she shrugged her bag off and then backed up. Taking a swing, she brought it forward, slamming it into the remaining glass, jagged and dangerous at the bottom of the window. Knocked free, it fell over the edge to land below.

Erica flinched at the noise it was making. "They could hear you!" she whisper-shouted.

"Then we need to be quick." Once the sill was mostly clear, she nodded. "Danny, come here."

Crossing the space between them, he looked out below. "What're you thinking?"

"You're the tallest. If you jump down, you can catch Erica."

Danny chewed his lip, he eyed the distance. "The bushes?"

"The bushes," she agreed. "Can you do it?"

"Coach'll be pissed if I get injured and can't play…"

"He'll be more pissed if you die. What's a few games versus the rest of ever?"

Danny snorted. "All right." He threw his own bag out the window and waited, watching to see if anyone came out to investigate. When no one did, he took a deep breath and stepped onto the sill. He planted his hands on the metal dividers in between each window, clear of any broken glass. "Next time, we study at my place."

"Deal."

Danny stepped out and his arms wind-milled as he dropped.

Malia held her breath, her heart pounding hard in her chest. There was a thud and then—

"I'm okay." Danny stood and nodded up at her.

Blowing out a shaky breath, her body loosened up in relief. "Okay." She turned to Erica. "Your turn."

Erica shook her head. "No, I- I can't."

Malia held a hand out to her. "Do you trust me?"

Erica stared at her hand a long moment. "Every time we hang out, I get chased by something trying to kill me." She sniffle-laughed, her eyes bright with tears.

"Maybe I'm bad luck." Malia shook her hand. "But I'm really good at keeping promises."

Erica reached out and let her hand fall into Malia's.

Malia drew her toward the window and looked down at Danny.

Now wearing his backpack again, Danny was searching the surrounding area nervously. He raised his arms and waved his hands. "It's okay. I'll catch you."

"One quick jump, that's all it is. In a few seconds, your feet will be on the ground and you'll be out of here. No more running or chasing or anything."

Erica looked back at her, frizzy blonde hair wisping against her cheek from the wind. "I'm scared."

"I know." Malia pressed a hand to her shoulder. "I'm not going to make you. But I think we both know this is the best option for getting out of here."

Chin quivering, Erica nodded. Closing her eyes, she twisted her mouth up into a grimace, and then stepped out the window. With a muted shriek, she jumped.

Danny caught her. They fell to the ground in a groaning heap, but they were okay.

Malia sighed, relieved.

Climbing back to his feet, Danny nodded. "Okay. Your turn."

Shaking her head, Malia said, "I can't."

Danny's brow furrowed. "What? Malia, I don't have it in me to give you a pep-talk right now!"

"Scott and Stiles are in the school. So is Allison…" She stared at him searchingly. She considered telling him about Jackson, but that would keep him here, and she needed them to get out and away. Maybe it was hypocritical of her, but she didn't care. "I have to find them."

"We can go for help." Danny shook his head. "But if you stay here…"

"You can't stay!" Erica stared up at her, alarmed. "You promised."

"And I kept it. I got you out." Malia shrugged her bag off her shoulders. "Here. Take this. And take care of my Skittles, too. I'm coming back for those." She tossed her bag below, caught easily in Danny's hands. Serious once more, she said, "I have a plan, okay? It's not perfect, but I have to try."

Danny hesitated, but eventually nodded. "What do you want us to do?"

"What? No!" Erica shook her head. "This is suicide!"

"Get Erica out of here. Find help, but stay away from the school. And Danny… don't come back here. Not until you're sure it's safe." She tapped her hand against her leg, feeling awkward and exposed. "I'll text you when I'm out."

"We can't leave you." Erica looked from her to Danny and back. "What if you get hurt? What if they kill you?"

Malia stared at her but eventually looked at Danny. "Go. Now."

Danny hesitated, but eventually grabbed Erica's hand and towed her away.

"Wait! No!" Erica pulled at his hand, but she couldn't get loose. "Malia!"

Malia raised a finger to her lips in a silent reminder that Erica needed to be quiet so as not to draw attention to them.

Gritting her teeth, Erica nodded.

Pulling away from the window, Malia looked in either direction. Erica's bat lay on the floor. Plucking it up, she swung it around and continued down the hall. She needed to find the office and put her plan in play.

…

"She's not coming!" Jackson swiped at the blood still dribbling from his nose. "Don't you get it? Either she found a way out or she's dead. Either way, the longer we spend waiting on her to save us, the closer that psycho gets to killing us!"

Lydia's wild eyes bounced from Jackson to the others. "He's right. We don't know where Malia is or what her plan is… We don't even know if she's alive."

Allison turned to her, brow furrowed. "Lydia…"

"I'm not saying I want her to be dead, just that we need to be logical! We— We have to plan for the worst."

Picking at her bottom lip, Allison shook her head. "No. She wouldn't abandon us and… And she can't be dead. She can't."

"How much longer do we have to wait before you call your dad?" Jackson demanded, glaring at Stiles.

Stiles looked to Scott, his leg bouncing irritably. "Malia's not dead, all right? And if she says she has a plan—"

"But they have a point," Scott said.

Stiles turned to him, brow furrowed and mouth twisted. "What?"

"Not that Malia's dead. Or that she left us behind. She wouldn't do that. But we should have a plan, too. You said she was going to make a distraction for us to get out, right? Well, how are we going to do it? Do we go through the same door we came through? Should we start moving the tables and chairs, because... What if he's waiting just outside?"

Before Stiles could answer, the PA system came to life, and then—

A familiar guitar rift echoed through the room, so loud it made the speaker crackle.

"You gotta be kidding me…" Jackson muttered.

Stiles' face lit up and he swung is head around to see Scott, who was grinning back at him.

Living easy, living free
Season ticket on a one-way ride
Asking nothing, leave me be
Taking everything in my stride…

Stiles snapped his fingers, nodding hurriedly. "The kitchen! The door out of the kitchen leads to the stairwell."

Scott frowned. "But that only goes up."

"Up is better than here. If we're lucky, Derek heads for the office to investigate the noise. We leave the chairs and the tables, at least we know he'll have a hard time getting through here to where we are. It slows him down, right? The only option is going up." He snapped the back of his hand into the palm of the other. "Look, we get up there and we find another stairwell, we come back down. Or we find a classroom without so many windows, and we hide. Either way, we get out of here."

They all looked around at each other uncertainly.

Don't need reason, don't need rhyme
Ain't nothing I would rather do
Going down, party time
My friends are gonna be there, too…

"All right. Okay." Allison marched to the door. "He's right. Let's go!"

"O-okay." Surprised she was up for it, Stiles followed after her, lurching through the door as she swung it open.

One after the other, they rushed through the door and toward the stairs. Climbing them as quickly as they could, they reached the next floor, just as dark and empty as the others. Checking each door on either side of the hall, they found the first was locked, but the other wasn't. Pushing it open, they stumbled deeper into the room and abruptly closed the door behind them.

Taking a look around, Scott realized they were in the chemistry lab. Grabbing a chair, he brought it over and shoved it up against the door, locking it in place.

While they all stood, panting, Scott took Stiles by the shoulder and dragged him away from the others. "Text Malia, tell her where we are."

Nodding, Stiles pulled his phone out. "It was smart, right? The music?" He grinned. "Now the Alpha can't hear us— no heartbeats or footsteps. He'll have to rely on, I don't know, smell or something." He thumbed his phone open and brought up his texts, tapping on Malia's name.

"Yeah, really smart." Scott shook his head. "But now what?"

I'm on the highway to hell
On the highway to hell
Highway to hell
I'm on the highway to hell

Leaving the PA system as loud as it could get, Malia abandoned the office and made her way toward the cafeteria. She kept close to the walls, ready to duck down and hide. Unfortunately, as much as the music was going to mask everyone from the Alpha, it also meant that it was covering any warning signs the Alpha might be giving off, too. Every time she hit a corner, she paused, unsure if it was hiding right around the bend. Her heart hammered unevenly, a lead weight in her stomach.

Just as she spotted the cafeteria, she felt her phone buzz against her hip. Ducking against a wall, beside a bank of lockers, she stuck the bat between her knees, and dug her phone out. There was a text from Stiles— 'nice move with the music. we're in the chem lab. where are you?'

Malia chewed her lip and started texting back. A few words in, however, she felt the hairs on her nape stand on end. That same feeling of tiny spiders feet she had at Allison's crawled across her skin. Malia hesitated only a second before raising her eyes from her phone. There, in the distance, she spotted the glow of red eyes. Swallowing tightly, she pushed off the wall, and ran. The bat dropped to the floor, abandoned, and she mentally cursed at leaving behind a weapon.

The music was so loud, it drowned out everything— her heart, her breathing, her slamming footsteps as she raced down the hallway. She swung around a corner, her shoes losing grip on the floor, and slammed shoulder-first into a locker. Breath briefly knocked out of her, she shook her head. Rolling off the lockers, she started running again, arms pumping at her sides. It was so dark, she had a hard time figuring out where the hell she was. If the cafeteria was behind her and to the right and the office was to the left, then—

Malia's feet slipped out from under her again, only this time she fell backwards, landing hard on her back. Planting her hands on either side of her, she tried to sit up, only to have them slide sideways. Malia turned over onto her stomach, looked ahead, and was surprised to see the Alpha wasn't just feet away, taking advantage of her misfortune. Instead, the hall was just as empty as ever, the rattling drum beat of AC/DC still echoing all around her.

Getting her knees under her, she tried to stand, but the floor was wet. Raising her hands, she looked at them, only to find them soaked in viscous blood. Slowly, Malia turned her head, and found the lifeless body of Trisha laying just feet away. Her mouth was open, face twisted up in ghoulish horror. There were slash marks all down the front of her body, her floral blouse shredded and soaked in a glaring crimson.

Malia closed her mouth around the strangled noise caught in her throat. Shaking her head, she started crawling across the floor, slipping and sliding in the puddle of blood all around her. She finally reached the lockers and had to wipe her hands on any dry patch of her shirt she could find before she could get a good grip on the metal to pull herself up. Pressing her back against the wall, she stared down at Trisha a long second, her heart climbing up into her throat. And then, she saw it—

Trisha's keys still hung from a lanyard around her neck. If Malia could get them, she could open classrooms and hallways. She might be able to find another way out. Slowly, she crept out, checking down the hall once more for the Alpha, but it wasn't there. Malia didn't have time to wonder why, to question where it was or when it would appear. She needed to get those keys and then she needed to get the hell out of there.

Making her way around the blood, she reached the other side of the hall. She slid her feet along the edges, right up against the lockers, and made her way closer to the body. When she was in reaching distance, she crouched down and stretched her arm out, hooking a finger around the lanyard and tugging it up. It caught on Trisha's chin. The movement caused Trisha's head to turn in her direction, her empty eyes burning a judgemental hole through Malia. Swallowing down the bile burning her throat, she kept tugging, until the lanyard moved up and over Trisha's head. Closing her hand around the keys, Malia pulled them close and stood.

Malia stumbled away from the body then and turned down the hall.

If you want blood, you got it
Blood on the streets
Blood on the rocks
Blood in the gutter
Every last drop
You want blood
You got it
Yes you have

"She's not answering." Stiles paced and scratched at his temple. "She started to, but…"

Scott took a deep breath and looked at Jackson. "How many people can you fit in your car?"

Jackson shrugged. "Five, if someone squeezes on someone's lap."

"Five?" Allison scoffed. "I barely fit in the back."

Jackson rolled his eyes.

Scott rubbed his hands over his face. "Okay. Look, the doors are blocked, right?" He pointed to the door next to the chalk board. "But if we get to the roof, we can go down the fire escape to the parking lot in seconds."

Stiles shook his head. "That's a deadbolt."

"There are two people in the school with keys. The librarian and the custodian."

"Well, we know where the custodian is..."

"And Malia knows where the librarian is." Scott nodded. "If I find her, I can grab the keys, then we all get out together."

Stiles glanced at the others and then pulled Scott away from the group. "How the hell are you supposed to find her? She's not answering texts and the music is so loud, you won't be able to hear her moving around."

"I can do it by scent." Scott's brows arched. "She smells like wildflowers. I can find her. I know I can!"

"Yeah, and what if the Alpha finds you first? Or us? Or her?" Stiles shook his head. "Anyway, if you're going after Malia, I'm coming with you. She's my best friend, too."

"What? No. You need to stay here, with them. I'll be faster on my own and… you're the only other one that knows what's really going on." He looked past him, to the others. "You need to keep them from trying to get out on their own."

"Scott…" Stiles put his hands on his hips and dropped his head with a sigh. "You don't know what you're doing. You don't know how to fight this thing. You can barely control the shift!"

"I'm getting better and… I have to do this." He swallowed tightly. "Stiles, this is Malia. If she's not answering, it's because she's in danger. I need to find her." Not bothering to hear anymore arguments, he stepped past him and announced to the others, "I'm going to find Malia and the keys. I'll come back and we'll go to the roof."

Allison shook her head. "Are you serious?"

"Getting the key is our best plan," he reassured. "If we try to go down, he can find us."

"How do we know you'll even come back?" Jackson scoffed. "Who says he won't find Tate and sneak out, leaving us all behind to rot?"

Scott frowned. "I wouldn't do that. We'll come back for you."

Allison took a deep breath and crossed her arms. "You can't go out there unarmed."

Looking past her, he spotted a long, metal pointer stick. Grabbing it, he held it up. While everyone rolled their eyes, completely unimpressed, he shrugged. "It's better than nothing."

"There's gotta be something else," Stiles said.

"There is." Lydia perked up and nodded toward the locked cabinet behind Allison.

Stiles' face twisted up. "What are we gonna do? Throw acid on him?"

"No. Like a fire bomb." She waved toward the bottles. "In there is everything you need to make a self-igniting Molotov cocktail."

"Self-igniting…"

"Molotov cocktail," she enunciated. When they all stared at her, she shrugged. "What? I read it somewhere."

"Okay. But, we don't have a key for that either."

With an exasperated sigh, Jackson shook his head, and then shoved his elbow through the cabinet window, officially opening it for business.

…

Malia couldn't find her phone. She must've dropped it when she was running. Which meant she had a set of keys, no phone, and no idea where the chem lab was. Shaking her head, she realized the only option was to backtrack, find her phone, and text Stiles. So, that was what she did. Covered in the librarian's blood, she made her way back toward the body. Did she drop it by Trisha or when she slammed into the locker? Either way, she had to go back toward where she'd last seen the Alpha. Was it still there? Or had it chased down her friends despite her distraction? Was he the only one left?

Her hands shook and her knees trembled. Every step seemed slower than the last, a weight drawing her back. Fear clawed its way up her throat, choking her. Two bodies. That made the overall death toll four, with a potential for six more. That had to be a Beacon Hills record, right? It would just barely outdo the Hale fire victims.

Pressing herself up against a wall, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to breathe. Reaching up, she covered her ears, trying to block out the pounding rock n' roll music. Breathing in and out through her nose, she tried to slow her heart down, and focus. Malia thought of her mother.

Watching Malia carry the flour bag up her step ladder, Evelyn shook her head. "I think you've got more flour on you than we'll be putting in the bowl…" When Malia stuck her tongue out at her, Evelyn tapped her nose, smiling when she scrunched it up. "Are you going to be my sous-chef today?"

"No, I'm gonna be your Malia-chef."

Evelyn's grin widened. "Malia-chef it is. All right, what else do we need? Do you remember?"

Her eyes lit up. "Eggs!" Climbing down the step ladder, Malia rushed to the fridge and swung the door open. She reached down and pulled out a whole flat of two dozen eggs.

"Be careful," Evelyn said, watching as Malia held it with both arms and slowly climbed up the stairs to the counter. "Okay. First, before we get ahead of ourselves…" She finger-combed Malia's hair back and pulled an elastic off her wrist, tying Malia's hair in a ponytail. "We've got flour and eggs, what else?"

"Music!"

"Music? I don't know… What kind of music goes with pancakes?"

Malia bounced where she stood. "Mac!"

"Mac. Oh, now I know I raised you right. Mwah!" She stuck a loud kiss on Malia's forehead, to which Malia giggled. Evelyn made her way to the stereo. When her favorite song started playing, she turned on her heel and danced her way back to her daughter. When she was just in reach, Malia leapt from the top of her step-ladder and a knowing Evelyn caught her. Hitching Malia on her hip, Evelyn danced around the kitchen, singing loud and proud, swinging Malia around to the beat as they went.

Malia's lips moved along to the lyrics as her eyes slowly opened. "…she rules her life like a fine skylark and when the sky is starless…"

Drawing a deep breath, she let it out slowly. She felt calm. She felt ready. Just as she pushed off the wall, the music above cut out. As terrifying as it was to suddenly find herself in a completely silent hallway, this was good.

Because now she knew where the Alpha was— the office.

Smirking, she turned on her heel and raced down the hallway. It might not give her a lot of time, but it was some, and she was going to use it. When she reached the blood drenched hallway and the unmoving body of Trisha, she searched the floor, but there was nothing to be found. Muttering under her breath, she continued down the hall. And then she saw it, there on the floor, right under the corner locker— her phone.

Malia covered the last bit of space at a jog. She grabbed her phone up and thumbed through Stiles' texts.

—'where are you? why'd you stop writing?'

—'malia, answer me. please!'

—'are you okay? damn it, talk to me!'

—'look scott's coming for you okay? we need keys to get onto the roof. we'll climb down the fire escape!'

—'malia i'm freaking out! tell me you're okay!'

A bubble formed then, with yet another incoming text— 'i can't lose you'

Malia felt her heart shift and thud in her chest. —'i'm here. i'm okay.'

—'prove it.'

Snorting, she tapped out a reply and quickly looked around to make sure she was still alone. —'technically green but given the situation, also red…'

Stiles was quick to respond. —'jesus christ! where were you? no wait nevermind. where are you now? scott's looking for you.'

She frowned. —'where?'

Stiles sent back an eyeroll emoji. —'he was going to sniff you out apparently. if he can't find you, he'll grab the keys off the janitor… or his body anyway. last place i saw him, he was in the locker room.'

Malia nodded. —'i'll head there, just in case'

Her phone buzzed a beat later —'okay but keep me updated. all right? both of you are out there and i'm stuck in here and i'm freaking out!"

She thumbed back a heart and ghost emoji. — 'i will. see you soon!'

Tucking her phone away, she took a quick look around the corner and started to move. She needed to get to the locker room which was past the broken window and back on the main floor. Sighing, she nodded, psyched herself up, and started running.

…

Scott's senses were overwhelmed. As much as he tried to search out Malia's scent, there was too much fear and anxiety on the air, too much blood and death. But he did know where the janitor was, which meant that he could at least find the keys. And hopefully her on the way.

The quickest way to the locker room was through the gymnasium instead of around it. As soon as he entered, however, he smelled it. The blood was stronger here; concentrated. The Alpha must've moved the body. Now all he had to do was focus on that one scent and follow it.

Moving back toward the door, his gaze searched beneath the stairs. They were pulled out from the wall, a web of criss-crossing metal columns and steel rods beneath. It was there. Hidden somewhere beneath, there was a body. And he needed to get to it.

A creeping sensation of warning climbed his back, telling him to stop, go back. But he had to do this. They needed those keys.

Scott made his way inside, met with a maze of metal. His gaze bounced from the floor to ahead, searching for any sign of the body. The further in he got, the more intense the feeling of being in danger became. He could feel it weighing down on his shoulders. His hand flexed against the beaker he was holding, filled with Lydia's homemade Molotov cocktail mixture.

As he stepped over a bend, he heard a noise behind him, an ominous creak. Looking back, Scott saw nothing but a single bulb against the wall, sending out a bluish glow that did little to combat the crowding shadows. Continuing forward, his gaze bounced around. The smell was stronger, but there was nothing on the ground. And then—

Something wet dripped onto his face. Scott went still. Slowly, he tilted his head upward, until he was met with the body of the janitor, strung across the metal bars. His heart jumped, but he closed his mouth on a scream. Shaking his head, he focused. Putting the beaker on the ground, he made his way to one of the poles and climbed it, reaching out across the body for the keys that dangled from the janitor's pocket, only to fall just short. Scott gritted his teeth and stretched his arm as far as it would go. Just as his fingers brushed against the keys, there was a noise— Clang! A pitiful warning before he realized that the stairs were moving. No. Closing!

Eyes wide, he looked from the rolling, retracting stairs, and back to the keys. He stretched and reached and finally caught them. Dropping to the ground, he grabbed the beaker, and then raced through the moving, bending metal columns, leaping out the end and rolling across the floor just as they slammed completely closed, the janitor's body still caught in a web of screeching steel.

Landing in a crouch, Scott looked up, heart still slamming against his chest. On the other side of the gym stood Alpha, growling and snarling. He prowled toward Scott, snapping his teeth.

Scott stood, his breathing unsteady. Bouncing back and forth on his heels, he nodded. "Come on… Come get me."

In answer, the Alpha broke out into a run.

Scott lobbed the beaker at him. It slammed into the Alpha's shoulder, shattered, and… nothing. It didn't ignite.

It startled the Alpha into pausing, but that was it.

Shit.

Shaking it off, the Alpha lunged forward.

"Damn it." Scott turned to run, but the Alpha swiped at his ankle and knocked him clear off his feet. Scott landed face down on the ground and was flipped onto his back before being thrown away. Scott went sliding across the floor. When he stopped, the Alpha was on top of him, a rough hand pressed against Scott's face, clawed thumb digging into his cheek as he was pinned down. The Alpha lowered its head, growling in Scott's face as he panted, his whole body shaking with fear.

The gymnasium door swung open then, squealing before it slammed against the wall. Scott's golden eyes turned toward it, only to see—

Malia.

A mixture of shock, elation, and fear ran through him. Before any could full be realized however, he noticed something. She was drenched in blood. It wet her clothes and matted her hair and soaked her hands. She stood wide-eyed, staring at him, and all he could think was that she was hurt. That it was her blood. The idea, the mere thought, shook him to his core.

When Derek had first brought up the idea of a 'primal rage,' Scott hadn't been sure what it meant. He'd been angry in his life—at his dad, himself, his friends, and lately, at Derek and the Alpha for twisting his life up as much as they had. But the anger of before was different to what he was feeling in this moment. Looking at Malia, seeing the abject terror on her face, the blood that was covering her, he felt something inside of himself snap. Maybe it was a culmination of everything, but for Scott, it was a defining moment. He could feel himself shift— from the extra hair to the claws, the teeth, and the eyes. But more than that, he felt completely aware. It wasn't a sea of red like it had been before. He was himself. And he was pissed.

Scott brought his legs up, planted his feet against the Alpha's chest, and kicked. As the Alpha stumbled back, Scott got his feet under him and went on the offensive. This time, he wasn't running. He was fighting.

Rolling his shoulders, Scott bared his teeth and lunged. He brought his arms down, one by one, slashing and scoring, leaving five jagged lines with each swipe. They split open the Alpha's chest, leaving gory, gushing marks in their wake. The Alpha attacked back, but with his size, it made him just clumsy enough for Scott to duck and roll, swinging himself around to attack from behind. He leapt in the air and kicked out with both feet, slamming them into the Alpha's back to send him tumbling forward. Backflipping, Scott landed back on his feet, one fist planted on the floor.

Landing on all fours, the Alpha turned himself around to face Scott once more. Blowing out a growling breath, he ran forward, making the floor tremble under him. He opened his mouth, ready and eager to sink his teeth into his beta.

Scott remembered that feeling all too well— jagged teeth tearing into his side before he was whipped around like a chew toy and spat out on the forest floor.

Not again.

When the Alpha was close enough, Scott leapt forward, flipping up and over the Alpha's head. He landed on the Alpha's back and dug his claws in, tearing upward. The Alpha howled and reared back, throwing Scott off him. Tumbling to the floor, Scott was quick to get up, but the Alpha had already turned around.

"Scott!" Malia yelled.

A hand wrapped around Scott's neck and lifted him up. Facing away from the Alpha, he could do little more than kick his legs and claw at the hand that restrained him. Until suddenly, he was released, falling to the ground in a heap before a foot pinned him to the floor. He couldn't see what was happening, and that might've been the most unnerving part of it all. He couldn't anticipate an attack or even try to fend it off. He was simply stuck, face down with his cheek pressed to the cold gymnasium floor. He planted his hands down and tried to push up, tried to break free, but he was trapped.

"Malia!" He struggled to catch his breath, his chest aching with each inhale. Gasping, he yelled, "Run!"

…

Malia felt like she was standing outside of her body. Everything around her was slow, fuzzy, and muted. Sound was dull. Her heart was simultaneously beating too fast and too slow. Her vision narrowed down to one thing. One person.

Scott.

He laid on the floor of the gymnasium, stuck beneath the Alpha, who had turned to look in her direction. The Alpha tipped its head left and right, and then snapped its teeth at her. A warning? A challenge? Just as she was sure it was going to attack her, it didn't. Instead, it reared its arm back and brought it down, slashing Scott across the back.

Malia flinched. Blood sprayed across the floor and Scott's head reared back, his mouth falling open in a soundless wail.

The Alpha swung again and again.

Malia was shaking. She could feel her mouth moving, forming a word, over and over—

STOP! STOP! STOP!

But she couldn't hear it. She couldn't hear her voice or Scott's screams.

Her fingers dug into her hair and scraped at her scalp. She stood, helpless, as Scott struggled to crawl away, to avoid each attack.

And then… something changed.

Sound began to leak into her ears. Only it wasn't her voice or the Alpha's snarling growl. Instead… it was a heartbeat. Not hers; it couldn't be. Because it was slower than her own, which was slamming against her chest at an impossible rate. Malia stared at Scott, his shirt torn open, back shredded, blood everywhere, and she felt…

Rage.

Like never before, she felt the cold, hard edge of anger ripple through her. Followed by the kind of grief she'd only ever felt once in her life. When a police officer knocked on her door and told her that her mother and her sister were gone, and they were never coming back. She stared at Scott, his face growing slack, his body limp, arms falling loose at his sides, and then to the Alpha. A hulking beast that had done nothing but cause pain. Who had killed and maimed and terrorized everyone it came across.

And it was trying to take Scott, too.

Scott, one of the kindest people she'd ever known. Her best friend. Her first love. Her only love. The boy who moved heaven and earth to get her to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Who was always there, through every up and down. Who brought her Cherry Garcia ice cream every time she was sick. Who held her hand when she was scared and hugged her when she was sad. Who would risk his life for just about anybody, whether they deserved it or not. Who loved her on her worst days and her good days and every day in between. Who never deserved any of this. Not one bit. And she couldn't let it happen. She couldn't lose him.

She wouldn't.

There was a tearing sensation. It started at the nape of her neck and traveled down her entire body, spreading across her arms and her legs. It was agonizing. She felt it spread, flaring across her skin, wrapping itself around her limbs, climbing her neck and her face. She screamed— it ripped from her throat and echoed all around her. Her teeth elongated, scraping and tearing at her lips. Fire lit her eyes and a burning filled her fingertips. Her bones cracked and moved; her skin rippled and stretched— she was transformed.

A red haze covered her gaze. The scent of blood reached her nose and her mouth watered.

When she stepped forward, it wasn't on feet, but paws.

There was no Malia here. Perhaps somewhere, muted in the back of her mind, the girl lived. But here, now, there was only the animal.

Lips drawn back from her teeth, she snarled. Dipping her head low, she stared up at the Alpha. A body lay on the ground, torn and bloody. Her teeth ached to sink into it and piece it apart. Foodfoodfood. But another part, deep in her hind brain, screamed MINE for very different reasons.

She did not like this Alpha. This was her territory and he was encroaching. She could not allow it. She would not. Leaping forward, she stalked toward him, every muscle in her body tensed. The fur along her spine bristled and her tail swung side to side. As saliva dripped from her mouth, she lurched forward, snapping at the Alpha.

Fight. Wound. Kill.

The Alpha moved back, watching her. Not afraid. She didn't smell fear. But he kept his distance. Backing away, circling the bleeding body. Until he planted his feet and leaned forward, roaring at her.

The sound was deafening. It sent her ears back against her head, blew the bristly fur around her face, and rattled her down to her bones. For a moment, things were uneven. Her mind sunk sideways, lost to her. A demand for obedience. NoNoNo. She was not his to order, to control.

She was no wolf.

It could have been seconds or minutes, she wasn't sure. But suddenly, she was whole again. He would not sway her. He was not her Alpha. Shaking her head, she stepped forward, and licked her teeth.

The Boy could not fight the call of his Alpha, though. He cried out, his back arched, body twisting and turning.

He was alive. Under the Alpha's thrall, but alive all the same. She felt satisfaction over that.

But the Alpha had to go.

He couldn't stay here.

Her land. Her home. Her boy.

Defend. Defend. DEFEND!

She took a running leap at the Alpha, planting her paws on his chest and sinking her teeth deep into his shoulder. The Alpha howled. His hand sunk down and gripped her at the scuff of her neck, trying to tear her off. But she only bit harder, deeper. His blood filled her mouth and leaked out the sides, drenching her teeth and muzzle. Growling, she dug her paws down and clawed at his chest. Skin split with each swipe, but it wouldn't be enough. Instinctively, she knew she was only wounding, and temporarily at that.

Claws sunk into her ribs then and she yelped. Her teeth released from the Alpha's shoulder and he took his chance. Tearing her away, he threw her across the gymnasium. She hit the ground hard, bouncing and rolling before eventually skidding to a halt against the wall.

The Boy was up. Yellow eyes, claws, and fangs. She smelled hunger on him. Bloodlust.

She cut her attention from The Boy to the Alpha, and made a choice.

She would kill him.

She would rip his throat out with her teeth if she had to.

Standing, she shook off the pain in her chest, blood leaking down her side.

There was only one thought. One mission. One focus.

Kill.

KILLKILLKILL.

As she ran forward, the Alpha turned and fled.

And she chased.

...

He could smell them. They reeked of fear, a pungent scent that stung his nostrils and thrilled his nerves. It would be so easy. So easy. To sink his claws into them, to piece apart the skin from their bones. To tear them limb from limb. Take his time. Savor it. And he wanted to. In the dead, red haze that swallowed his mind, that was the only thing he wanted. The only thing his Alpha asked of him. Kill them. Kill them all.

As he walked down the hallway to the chemistry lab, his claws dragged along the lockers, leaving thin, jagged lines behind in the metal.

Jackson was sweating; panic, fear, paranoia. It came off of him in waves.

Lydia's fear was different. It tasted sweet on his tongue. He wanted to bury his nose in her soft red hair as he chewed through her neck.

Allison's tears left a salty scent in the air. He could already hear her weepy screams as she fell under each swing of his claws.

And Stiles…

Stiles.

He blinked.

Stiles with a too big suit on, who visited his mother's grave every year, bringing her favorite flowers.

Stiles who didn't grow into his ears until eighth grade.

Stiles who loved Star Wars and was always looking for a reason to break out his Yoda impression.

Stiles who had been his best friend since forever.

He stood outside the classroom door now, his chest heaving with each breath.

Kill them.

Kill them.

Obey the Alpha.

Obey.

OBEY.

No.

"I'm done waiting. I'm not going to stick around in this room so some psycho killer can come and kill me," Jackson snapped.

"You're not leaving. None of you are, okay? Scott and Malia will come back. I know they will!" Stiles exclaimed. "Newsflash, all right, they're my best friends. They'll come for me."

The key was in the lock, but his fingers shook with hesitation… with loyalty.

Heart pounding in his chest, his hand balled into a fist, he fought against the instinct, against the order.

And he thought of Malia. He thought of all of them. Him, Stiles, Malia, laughing in a bowling alley with the bumpers up and the laser lights flashing in their eyes. He thought of them in his living room, sprawled out on the couch, watching movies and eating junk food. He thought of the summers spent down at the lake, with Malia doing back flips from the rope that hung from the tree. Of Sunday's video game marathons with Stiles.

With every memory, his heart slowed down. The red haze in his eyes faded. And control slowly returned. At least enough for him to snap the key off in the lock, protecting them for the very real threat that he posed.

…

The Alpha was fast, but she was faster. She could feel it in her bones. She would catch him and he would die. She would tear him limb from limb and feed on the remains. He would not return here, not to her land or her boy. To her home. But just as she reached him, nipping at his very heels, something else caught her ears. She slowed, turning her head this way and that. A voice. Two voices.

"Malia said not to come back."

"I'm not leaving her!"

She stilled, her had swinging back toward the Alpha as he raced toward the cover of the trees. A part of her wanted to follow, but another pulled her away. She sniffed at the air. Familiar. She knew these scents. But how? Why?

She loped back the way she came, following the scent. There was a car. A tall boy stood next to an open door while a girl stood in front of it, her arms crossed. Frizzy yellow hair whipped around in a cool breeze.

"Erica..." The boy walked toward her. "I don't know what's going on in there, but we called the police. They'll be here any second."

"And I'll be right here, waiting for them to bring her out."

She stared at the girl. There was fear there. Yellow Girl reeked of it. It flowed from her in potent waves. But there was something else, too. A defiance in the tilt of her chin. She liked that.

"Then I will, too," Tall Boy said, coming to stand with her at the front of the car. He held a chain, gripped tight in his fist.

This was not her boy, but it was, too. Not hers, but Lia's. Her boy and her girl. There were others too, other humans that she called her own. She would keep them safe, she decided. She would hunt the Alpha to protect them.

Turning back to the woods, she took off at a run. The Alpha's scent would lead her to him. He could not hide for long.

She dove into the trees, chasing the bloody and dangerous scent of her prey. He was angry. He smelled like blood, ash, and death. Revenge simmered inside him. It would be his fatal mistake. She would be smart and fast and trick him. She would—

Blood.

She slowed, her ear perked and her nose twitching.

A distraction, that was all it was. She should keep going, keep following. Only...

She knew this smell. Beyond the blood. There was something familiar.

Lia was a whisper in her mind, a strange and scared plea. Lia wanted loose, but the animal was not done. She had things to do. Things to hunt and fight and eat.

She followed the blood. Not because her stomach rumbled with hunger, though it did.

Not because her teeth ached to sink into soft flesh, though they did.

Not because she was easily distracted, though she could be.

No, she followed the scent because it was one of hers.

One of Lia's people, but one of hers, too.

A boy. A man. A wolf.

He sat, propped up against a log, lets stretched out in front him, his chest heaving with each breath. Blood wet his chin, but even more pooled behind him. He was wounded, but alive.

She approached slowly, her head down, eyes darting for any signs another predator was near. Sniffing at his boot, she followed his leg, nudged his stomach with her snout, and then met his face. He stared back at her, eyes at half-mast, skin pasty and damp. His eyes flared, lit a bright blue. Her own answered; she could see their yellow reflection in his eyes.

A slow smile upturned one side of his mouth. "Took you long enough."

She cocked her head at him. His words made no sense to her. Her attention fell once more to the blood still dripping down his back.

The Wolf-Man winced. "I'm okay."

She raised her head and huffed at him, snapping her teeth so he knew she thought different.

He grimaced. "I will be. I just need to get somewhere safe."

Safe.

Safe was home. Home for her was not a place but a person. Two people. Her boy and another boy. She had too many boys, but these two were special. She should go to them. The Alpha might return, and she needed to protect them.

But this wolf was hers, too. Special in a different way. She could not abandon him to death. Even if eating him might sate the hunger that still gnawed at her stomach. No, she would help him live and find food elsewhere. He was very lucky that she liked him.

Nudging his arm with her head, she turned herself around and sat, waiting for him to take the hint. With a grunt and a groan, Wolf-Man pushed himself up and wrapped his arms around her chest, resting much of his upper body weight against her. He was lucky that she was so strong, otherwise she would have no choice but to let him die... and then eat him. Instead, she started walking, making her way out of the woods and back to the school. Even with her strength, however, the haul was heavy and her body was much smaller than his. Her muscles strained and her back ached.

In the distance, she could hear sirens and knew that time was running out. Picking up her pace, she hurried the last little bit to his car. She was out of breath and her legs shook beneath her. The wound in her side had not yet healed and now that the adrenaline of her fight was wearing off, the pain intensified. Once Wolf-Man had dragged his tired and bleeding body up into his car, she turned back to the woods.

"Wait!"

She swung her head back, peering at him. Hadn't she done enough for this wolf?

"You can't hide. I know... I know that seems hypocritical coming from me. But you have to... you need to shift back..." He stared at her searchingly, sickly in appearance.

Why should she take advice from one that stunk of death? He was not as strong as her. Not as fast, either. He might as well be a hare, pretty to look at but useless in a fight. Anyway, he was wrong. She didn't need to turn back. Lia was safe like this. She would kill the Alpha for Lia and her boy and then she would live safe and free in the trees. They would be her woods. She would make a home there and the boy could visit sometimes. There would be no pain anymore. No fear, no anger, no nothing. Just food and home and safety.

"It's no way to live."

She stared at him, the broken and bleeding Wolf-Man. He pulled his door closed, turned the ignition, and drove off into the night. The sirens were growing louder. She could see the red and blue lights coming, too. If she listened closely, she could hear their heartbeats. Her people. All six of them. And a seventh that she would save under extreme duress. Though, she would also eat him if she was starving, too... Maybe even when she wasn't starving. He was boney though, not the best for eating.

Making her way to the treeline, she stayed close, watching and waiting. When they were out, when she was sure they were safe, she would go. The Sheriff's car and a cruiser pulled up. Her tail wagged in acknowledgement. She knew the Sheriff. He was good. (She would not eat him). Two more deputies left the cruiser. (She might eat them).

It took time. She was not patient. Many times, she considered running ahead to see her people. But that would spook the humans, and they had guns. So, she would wait. Laying down flat, stomach resting on the damp leaves, she watched, head perched on her paws. Her side throbbed, wound still weeping. And then—

Her ears perked as the front doors to the school swung open. Two deputies were escorting three of her people. The Boney One came first. Tall. Skinny. Big mouth. (Maybe eat). He was followed by the shrill one with the green hair. Small. Smart. Talked too much. (Should not eat… Probably will not eat). Just behind them was The Soft Girl, arms hugged tight around herself. Warm. Kind. (Must protect. Do not eat!).

The deputies hustled them away from the school and toward an incoming ambulance, its siren loud and grating on her ears.

She waited, staring at the doors for her boys.

She saw the others, instead. The Yellow Girl wove around the police cars and made her way to the front of the building. She paced and chewed at her lip. Scared. Young. (Protect!). The Tall Boy waited with her, arms crossed over his chest. Strong. Smart. (Not food).

"Danny?"

Brow furrowed, The Tall Boy turned. "Jackson?"

The Boney Boy left The Green Girl and The Soft Girl and crossed the parking lot at a fast clip, stopping just short of Tall Boy. "What're you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

Boney Boy snorted. "Long story."

"Yeah, same." The Tall Boy half-smiled. "You were inside?"

Boney Boy nodded. "You?"

"Yeah. But, uh, I got out." Tall Boy waved around. "I called the cops. They didn't want to believe me, but… I finally got through to the Sheriff."

The sound of the front door opening caught her attention then. Perking up, she watched the Sheriff exit, followed by her boys.

Her brother— Awkward. Sharp. (Never eat; sometimes feed)

And her boy— Good. Warm. Hers. Lia's. (Always protect)

Certain now that they were okay, she lifted herself up, her legs shaking as her side throbbed. She turned back to the woods. The Alpha would be too far now, but she would find him again. These were her woods now, her territory, and she would defend it.

In the recesses of her mind, Lia cried out, clawing to be let free. She went unanswered.

...

"I don't want to pop the champagne just yet, but… we survived." Stiles shook his head, his eyes wide in obvious surprise. "To be honest, I wasn't completely sure we would."

"Yeah, well, don't start celebrating yet…" Scott tugged at the lacrosse jersey he was wearing. It was the only thing he had at school that was wearable. If he walked out to meet the cops in a bloody, torn up jersey, he'd have to explain why he wasn't wounded.

"Course not. I'll wait 'til Malia catches up." Stiles tapped his phone against his hand. "Where is she? Did you find her?"

Scott ground his teeth together. "She found me."

"What? When?" Stiles looked back at the school. "Is she still inside?"

"I don't know."

Stiles blinked. "Okay, I'm going to need a lot more info…"

Scott sighed, but before he could say anything more, he spotted Deaton sitting in the back of an ambulance, wrapped in an emergency blanket. Scott hurried toward him, his brow furrowed.

Deaton looked up and smiled. "There you are."

"How…?" Scott wondered. "How did you…?"

"Get out?" Deaton shook his head. "Not easily. And from what they tell me, I'm alive because of you. I think I owe you a raise." He grinned and laughed lightly.

But Scott didn't have it in him to laugh. Not for the first time that night, he wondered just how well he truly knew Deaton, and if Derek hadn't been right all along…

"Guys, come on." Sheriff Stilinski tugged Stiles away, leading Scott to follow. "Let's let the EMT's do their job. You can talk to him later."

"Scott?" Allison approached, her eyes red-rimmed.

He looked up. "Allison, hey…" He glanced at Stiles, who could only shrug awkwardly. Taking her elbow, he led her away so they could speak privately. "I, uh, I'm sorry. I guess I didn't get back before the police got here."

Allison shook her head. "Never mind that. Where's Malia?"

He licked his lips and sighed. "I don't know."

"What?" Her brow furrowed. "But… But she's okay, right? I mean…" She swallowed tightly. "I don't know what the hell is going on or what happened in there, but I need to know that my friend isn't dead somewhere. So, can you please just tell me that?"

Scott clenched his teeth. "I'm sorry. I… I couldn't find her. Stiles and I will find her. I'm sure she's just hiding somewhere until she knows everything's safe. I'll make sure she calls you." He reached out to rub her arm comfortingly, but she shrugged him off.

Allison scrubbed at her eyes irritably. "Look, uh… Tonight was crazy in the worst way possible. I have no idea what is going on and the police are being weird and quiet and I just feel like this has been one huge nightmare. And I want to go with you, to find her, I really do. But I'm still freaking out and my dad is on his way and I just… I don't know how to feel. Because I'm scared and confused and angry and…" She shook her head. "I think, what I'm trying to say is that tonight really put some things into perspective for me and I know this is the worst possible time to be saying this, but…" Taking a deep breath, she shook her. "This whole friends with benefits thing, it's not going to work. Not because I don't like you, I do. But I realized that when we were stuck in that classroom and there was a possible serial killer walking around, waiting to actually kill us, the only person you were worried about, the only one you wanted to get to, was Malia." She held her hands up. "And I'm not blaming you, I'm not even mad at you, because you were honest with me when I asked. I just, I really think that if you care about someone so much that you're willing to maybe even die just to get to them that maybe you shouldn't be seeing someone else. Maybe you should just tell her."

"Allison!"

Scott looked past her to see her dad climbing out of his car, his face screwed up with worry.

Allison sighed and swiped at eyes. "I'm not mad, okay? Or maybe I am, I can't really tell." She laughed thickly. "Just… Just find Malia, please, and tell her that I… I really need her to be okay and… And yeah, get her to call me." She started backing up then, staring at him searchingly. "And take my advice, Scott. Because I really think you're just avoiding the obvious at this point and if tonight's shown us anything it's that life is really fucking short."

Scott stared at her, dumbfounded. It wasn't until she walked right into her father's arms and hugged him, burying her face against his chest, that Scott looked away. Turning on his heel, he made his way back to Stiles.

"What was that?"

Scott shrugged. "I think she just broke up with me."

"Uh… didn't she already do that?"

"Yeah, but this time felt more permanent." He shook his head. "Look, what I was trying to say before is that we need to go."

"Go? Go where?"

Scott swallowed tightly. "It's a long story, but Malia found me in the gym with the Alpha and… he attacked me. The thing is, I don't think he was trying to kill me. Don't get me wrong, it hurt, a lot."

"Is that why you're wearing your lacrosse jersey?"

"Yeah. He slashed up my back pretty good."

Stiles' brows hiked. "And he wasn't trying to kill you?"

"No. I think…" Scott frowned. "I think he was trying to trigger Malia."

"What?" Stiles snorted. "Why the hell would he…?" He paused and blinked. "In the chem lab, when the Alpha howled, Jackson freaked out. He was screaming and gripping his neck. He had claw marks there, I saw them."

"Stiles… Malia shifted."

Stiles' eyes widened. "What?"

"Yeah, and I don't just mean like me. I mean like she fully shifted." He nodded. "You remember when we found Derek's sister's body, how it looked like a wolf at first?"

"Malia shifted into a wolf!?"

Scott waved at him to quiet down and quickly checked that nobody had heard them. The police were busy canvassing the area; Jackson and Lydia were huddled near her car; and Danny and a blonde girl Scott didn't recognize were talking near the school. Deciding everybody was preoccupied and hadn't overheard, he returned his attention to Stiles. "No. I'm pretty sure she turned into a coyote."

Stiles made a strangled noise. "Why? How?"

"I have no idea. But we need to find her. She literally fought the Alpha off and then… I think she chased him out of the school."

He threw his hands up. "She fought the Alpha?"

Scott sighed, exasperated. "Yes, all right? Did you not hear the part where they ran off together?"

"Together, or like he ran away scared of a little coyote?"

"I don't know. It looked that way." Scott's brow furrowed and his mouth turned down. "I think she was trying to protect me."

Stiles snorted and shook his head. He reached out and slapped a hand against Scott's chest. "All right. Let's go. Let's find her."

Scott nodded, but then asked the obvious question, "How?"

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Just follow the wildflowers."

tbc

songs:

Don't Stop – Fleetwood Mac
Highway to Hell – AC/DC
If You Want Blood – AC/DC
Rhiannon - Fleetwood Mac

author's note: i'm so ridiculously excited to share this chapter with you. for the absolute longest time, i had a vision in my head of when malia would finally shift. i had to be extra careful whenever i mentioned it to anybody who asked because i didn't want to tip you guys off, lest you figure out the exact chapter and that would kind of ruin the surprise. i think a lot of you were hoping for a declaration of feelings, so i'm sorry that didn't happen. i will say that it's definitely coming. i just had a very specific idea in mind that involved malia's shift predicating on scott being attacked by the alpha. now, in canon, scott is pinned down and then the alpha roars to turn him and sends him off to kill the rest of his 'pack.' instead, i wanted scott to realize that him controlling his shift could come from a need to protect. not just malia, but there's deaton and stiles, too. and then he tries to fight, but as good as he does, there's also the fact that he's still getting used to these abilities and reflexes and one little slip up is all it takes. this in turn leads to the alpha pinning him again. i've said in previous reviews with people that the alpha definitely noticed something different in malia, and this is proof of that. he uses scott to force her shift and then attempts to enthrall her with his alpha roar. she eventually shakes this off, which will be explained more later on.

ALSO, because i'm expecting someone to ask, lydia's described as the green one because coyote's can't distinguish red from green, i guess they're semi color blind. so she thinks lydia has green hair, lol.

i hadn't originally planned to dig so deeply into the werecoyote's conscious, but i think you can tell i had a lot of fun with it. i like to think that the more malia gains control, she'll be able to meld with that animal personality, which is really a part of her already. but as it is now, the coyote is in control and she's stuck in the backseat, desperately trying to get out. it's going to be a real roller coaster of emotion next chapter!

anyway, i really hope this lived up to everyone's expectation. i feel like i hyped it up a lot, so i'm really hoping nobody's disappointed!

and finally, i will be replying to comments over the next two days. i considered doing it earlier, but all of my free time has been spent writing this and editing it and i really wanted to get it up tonight. sorry again for the wait!

things to look forward to next chapter: scott and stiles hunt for malia; danny, erica, and allison are very concerned; scott attempts to sing; malia struggles. :(

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