word count: 16,600
polyvore: username is 'sarcasticfina' - check under Collections for one named after this story to see all of Malia's fashion choices
episodes: between 1x07 and 1x08

XXII

Malia could feel the sun warming her cheek and was caught between wanting to turn her head to meet it and bury it against the surprisingly warm pillow her face was pressed against. She gave in to the second urge. Her nose pressed flat until her mouth kissed... not fabric. Brow furrowed in confusion, Malia slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the brightness of her room. She was almost too close to see what it was she was up against, and then it abruptly hit her. Her vision focused and it became all too clear that she was face-planted into Scott's very bare, very warm, strangely soft chest. He was laying on his side and so was she, but somehow, she'd managed to wiggle down the bed and smoosh her face right up against him. Her arm was slung over his waist too, while the other was curled up under her head. Leaning back a little, she darted her gaze upward, to see if he was awake and aware of what she'd done in her sleep. Thankfully, he wasn't. Snoring faintly, he had an arm tucked under his pillow while the other... hung behind him. In fact, she realized her fingers were tangled with his, their hands dangling loosely.

Maybe it was just the heat he gave off and she'd naturally gravitated toward it. Lately, he seemed to be running warmer than usual. Maybe it was a werewolf thing. In any case, she should put some space between them. If he woke up, this positioning looked, uh, well, intimate. And as much as she knew these sleepovers couldn't become a long-term thing, she liked them, and she didn't want them to end because her sleeping-self thought it was cool to cross personal boundaries.

He looked peaceful, though. His face relaxed and his shaggy hair falling loose against his cheeks. Ruffled but content. Like all the pressure they were facing outside of this bed, this room, this house, just didn't exist. It did, of course, and it would come calling just as soon as they let their guard down. But for a few seconds, she could almost pretend that life was just this easy, this peaceful.

And then Shiloh started nosing around Malia's feet; a sign that she knew Malia was up and wanted attention. Deciding it was a good excuse to stop lingering, Malia carefully untangled her hand from Scott's and rolled herself off the bed. She didn't bother waking him up. Instead, she pulled the blanket up to his shoulders and waved at Shiloh to follow her, quietly closing the door behind her as they left.

After taking Shiloh out to pee, Malia see-sawed between needing a shower and making breakfast. Standing in the hall just outside of Kylie's room, she weighed the pros and cons. Cooking meant that Scott could sleep a little longer, while showering might wake him up, seeing as her bathroom was an extension off the bedroom. While Scott didn't often admit to being extra tired lately, she knew it had to be getting to him. Life had become so chaotic, there was no way he was getting enough sleep. Especially with her around, taking up half his bed.

Breakfast it is.

Just as she was about to turn on her heel and return to the front of the house, she paused. The door to Kylie's room was cracked open. Not by a lot, but by enough to be strange. She was the only one that ever went in there and even that was on rare occasions. Her dad never went in. Then again, she wondered if maybe their fight on Tuesday had prompted a visit. But she would've noticed, wouldn't she? If the door had been open then. Or maybe not; she hadn't exactly been in the best frame of mind lately.

Reaching for the handle, she pushed it open gently, and stepped inside, her gaze sweeping curiously from one end of the room to the other. It looked just as empty as ever. She wasn't sure what she was expecting. Like her dad was going to leave a letter explaining where he was and why. But then she spotted something on the end table— a lumpy, cat-like, salt shaker.

Derek.

Malia crossed toward it in two long strides and plucked it up. Underneath was a receipt with a phone number on it.

Malia's heart lurched.

A part of her wanted to wad the paper up into a ball and throw it away, purely out of anger. But another part of her wanted to memorize every digit and reach out immediately. She had questions, sure. But it was more than that. Much as she didn't want to be, she was worried about him.

At some point, Derek had managed to make it back to her house and leave her this message, unseen and with no noticeable trace. Was it while she was running wild in the woods as a coyote? Or maybe yesterday, after training, when they went out for dinner and brought Melissa take-out. Or he could be even better at sneaking than she thought, and he'd somehow gotten into the house while they were all right there— while she was having a nightmare and the boys were trying to comfort her or last night, when she used Scott as her personal body pillow. Regardless of when Derek had been there, he had been, which meant he was still okay. Probably.

Taking the receipt with her, Malia left Kylie's room, closing the door and making her way to the kitchen. She needed to process and decide what, exactly, she wanted to do.

…

Scott woke slowly. The sun was prickling at his closed eyes and he instinctively squeezed them tighter. Sighing, he considered rolling over and burying his face in his pillow for a few more minutes. But then, the smell of something cooking caught his nose and his stomach rumbled. Food sounded even better than sleep right now. Pulling his hand out from under his pillow, he scrubbed it over his face. Groaning, he reached his feet out toward the end of the bed and felt his whole body stretch in the best way. And then padding feet could be heard coming in his direction. Wildflowers wafted toward him and his mouth curled at one corner.

"Hey, sleepyhead. Breakfast is almost ready."

Scott didn't get up. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, letting it out on a sleepy hum.

"Don't make me jump on you."

Smothering a smile, he shook his head. While he'd been more than willing to get up before she got there, now that she was here, frustrating her sounded like more fun. "Five more minutes."

"How about one more minute?"

Scott wasn't even kind of surprised when she abruptly steam-rolled over him and landed in a heap on the mattress next to him. He cracked an eye open to look at her. Still in her pajamas, she had her hair tied up in a lopsided knot, pieces falling across her cheeks. And maybe it was him, maybe it was a sleep-fogged brain that thought it, but she looked lighter than she had yesterday. Not as burdened by the intensity of everything that was changing. There was just something about the color in her cheeks and the way she was looking at him, her body loose and comfortable, that could almost convince him that nothing had changed. They were still the same people they had always been.

"Are you spending my one minute watching me?"

Her lips twitched. "You've probably only got like, twenty seconds left anyway."

He hummed. "What'd you make?"

"Scrambled eggs and toast. I was gonna make bacon too, but judging by the smell of it..." Her nose scrunched up. "You wouldn't want to eat it."

He chuckled under his breath. "I'll take your word for it."

"I had to wrap it in two bags and take it to the garbage can outside. I don't know if that's just how bad it was or if my nose is that sensitive now, but yeah... It needed to go."

"Eggs are good."

"They better be. The only other thing I have to eat right now is probably cereal. And I'm almost out of milk, so..." She shrugged. "Anyway, you should get up. We'll eat and shower and then we can get straight to training. I texted Stiles; he's gonna drop by later."

"Training. Right."

"Yup." She hopped off the bed then and walked to the door, pointing back at him seriously. "Don't expect me to go easy on you, either."

He grinned. "I don't."

…

While nibbling on her third piece of toast, Malia stared down at her phone. Specifically, at a text from Cole— 'hey, I guess something came up last night...? rain check?'

Scott stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing off his plate and fork. "Did something happen?"

"Hm?"

"You're frowning at your phone."

"Oh. Uh... No. Not exactly." She shrugged. "It's Cole. We were supposed to get together last night and I forgot."

Scott paused. "Oh."

"Yeah..." Her brow furrowed. "I'm sure he knows something happened at the school, but he doesn't know I was involved. And this is the second time we were supposed to hang out when something Alpha-related got in the way... I kind of feel bad."

Drying his hands on a towel, Scott leaned back against the counter. "Because you're not with him?"

"It's not..." She tried to find the right words for it. "It's different with Cole."

Scott stared at her a beat. "Good different?"

Sighing, Malia put her phone down on the table and shifted in her seat to face him better. "I like Cole, a lot. I'm just not sure how I feel is the same way that he feels. You know?"

He searched her face and nodded. "Yeah, I get it."

"When he's not around, I just kind of forget he exists. Which sounds awful, I know. But... I mean, that's normal, right? If it's just a people-with-benefits kind of thing. It's okay that I don't have a big attachment to him."

Scott drummed his fingers against the counter. "Do you want to have an attachment?"

"To Cole?" She shook her head. "No. I mean, I wouldn't say no to friendship. And he's a great make-out partner. But I don't really want anything more than that."

"If he knows that, then I think it's okay."

"Yeah?"

Scott nodded. "If you're happy with what you do have, then do that."

Malia chewed her lip. "Sometimes I think he isn't. Ever since the first attack, at the video store, it kind of felt like something changed. But maybe I just think that's happening." She groaned. "I don't know."

"You could just ask him."

She stared at him flatly. "Don't make it sound easy. It's not easy."

His mouth twitched faintly. "Maybe it is."

Rolling her eyes, she stood and grabbed her phone up. "I'm going to shower. And then I'm going to call Cole and... figure this junk out."

Scott nodded. "Okay."

Grabbing up the last chunk of her now cold toast, she shoved it in her mouth and walked away, padding down the hall to her bedroom.

…

Sitting on the edge of her bed, fresh from the shower, her hair still dripping, Malia frowned at her phone. Specifically, at Cole's last text. It was simple and understanding and there was no noticeable frustration or accusation there. He was just ready and willing to let it go and move forward. Which would be oh so easy. And that was the appeal, wasn't it? While everything else was up and down, Cole was just a stationary figure in her life that she could pick up whenever she felt like it. He wasn't affected by what was going on. He was a free agent, unbothered by life's drama and trauma.

Instead of texting, she found her thumb hovering over his name, until finally, she pressed it. Her stomach twisted up in knots as she waited for him to answer.

Click. "Hey..." Cole paused. "Can't say I was expecting a phone call. You struck me as more of a texter."

She snorted. "You wouldn't be wrong."

He hummed. "Is this a serious phone call then?"

"No, no..." She picked at a loose thread on her blanket. "I just realized it's been a while. We haven't really seen each other or talked."

"I saw you Monday... or was it Tuesday...? I don't know, this whole week's been weird. But, I was hoping to see you last night."

"Yeah." She closed her eyes and winced. "Last night wasn't the best for me..."

"No?"

"No. But I don't want to get into it right now. Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to cash that rain check in for tonight? I know it's short notice, but—"

"Tonight works."

She blinked. "Oh. Okay, uh, great. Meet me at Rosie's Diner, around 6?"

"I'll be there."

After a quick goodbye, Malia hung up, sighed, and put her phone on her end table. She stood from her bed and moved to her dresser, grabbing up her brush and a hair elastic. Scraping her hair up into a ponytail, she tied it off, and then made her way out of her room. Scott was wrestling with Shiloh in the living room, nearly knocking over the coffee table in the process.

"Hey."

He looked up, grinning. "Hey."

"You showered."

Sitting up, he pulled Shiloh into his lap and rubbed her belly. "Yeah, well, you do have two bathrooms. Figured it would save us some time. I called my mom, too. I told her I left early and I was hanging out with you and Stiles. That way she's not surprised when she gets home and I'm not there."

"Smart."

He shrugged. "How's Cole?"

"Fine. We're getting together tonight."

Scott nodded, his gaze falling to Shiloh as he scrubbed her ears.

"So, you wanna start off with a run?" She put her hands on her hips. "We can follow the trails, climb to the lookout, and then come back."

Scott looked up at her. "Is this just so you can show off how much faster you are than me?"

She laughed. "It doesn't have to be a race. But it'll get our blood flowing and I like to start my day off with a run. I feel like I haven't been able to lately, with how crazy things have been. It'll be nice to do something normal."

Carefully shifting Shiloh out of his lap, Scott stood. "Sure. We can do that."

"Great." She grinned then. "Race you to the path!"

Malia darted for the door, laughing at Scott's huffy, "Hey!"

…

Malia could have run faster, but she was keeping her pace steady and not unnaturally quick. There were other people on the paths, jogging and running, and while she and Scott passed each of them, they weren't doing it in a way that would cause too much attention. To the others, they probably just looked like young athletes pushing their limitations. A part of Malia wanted to speed up and show off, but another part of her liked that she and Scott were running neck and neck. They couldn't do this before. His lungs were so bad that any kind of strenuous behaviour could result in a severe asthma attack. Now, he was running like he always had. And he looked good. He looked happy. A smile spread across his mouth, his arms pumping at his sides; there was unrestrained freedom there.

When they reached the peak of the hill overlooking the town below, they came to a stop just short of the wooden barrier. Malia put her hands on her hips and stretched her back, twisting at the waist a few times to loosen up. "Well?"

Scott nodded, his face pleasantly flushed. "It was good. I can see why you do it."

She grinned. "Now that you can keep up, we should do it more. We can make it like a weekly thing or something."

Scott smiled. "I'd like that."

Making her way over to one of the stump posts that made up the barrier, Malia took a seat on it, her back to the view, unworried about the steep fall behind her. "This is where Derek confronted me that one time."

"Yeah?" He walked toward her, his hands tucked in the pockets of his hoodie. When he stopped, his knees were nearly bumping hers. It occurred to her that most of the clothes he was wearing were the same that she had borrowed from him over the years and never returned. "You're worried about him."

"I'm mad at him, but... yeah." The phone number Derek had left her came to mind then and the weight of knowing it and not sharing it with Scott suddenly pulled at her. Taking a deep breath, she said, "He was at the house."

Scott's brow furrowed. "What? When?"

"I don't know. I just know he was there... We have a system, kind of. He always leaves this ugly little cat salt shaker in Kylie's room. Sometimes there's a note that just says 'thanks.' This time there was a phone number."

Scott's eyes widened. "So, he's okay... and he's reaching out."

"Yeah, maybe. I'm not sure when he left the note." She shrugged. "Maybe something happened since."

"But you didn't call." He stared at her searchingly. "Because if he doesn't answer..."

"Yeah, that. Plus, I'm... angry at him." She shook her head. "I mean, he knew. I don't know how, but he did. And he... He kept that from me."

"Maybe he didn't want to freak you out."

Malia rolled her eyes. "My best friend is a werewolf. I think I could've handled it."

"Maybe he wasn't sure." Scott shrugged. "Or maybe he thought you needed to find out on your own. I don't know. I can't tell you how Derek thinks. But I know you. And I know that he matters to you and you're worried about him. So... I think you should call. Pick a day to meet up, find out what he knows." He crouched down then, arms stacked atop her knees, and looked up at her gently. "If you still wanna kick his ass, I'll come along for moral support."

She laughed and bit her lip to hide a grin. "Thanks."

He nodded. "You're welcome."

Sighing, she said, "All right. We should head back. The only one I plan to beat up today is you..."

Grinning, Scott stood and held his hands out to her. When she took them, he pulled her to her feet and then started backing up toward the path. "We'll see."

…

They found a clearing to practice in. It wasn't far from Malia's house, but it was shrouded and far enough away from the paths that not just anybody would stumble upon them. But, as much as Scott was comfortable wrestling with her dog, actually taking Malia on as an opponent seemed hopeless.

"You're hesitating."

Scott grimaced. "Because I don't know what I'm doing!"

"Because you're overthinking it." Her brows arched. "Don't look at me like I'm Malia or your friend. Look at me like I'm someone who might seriously hurt you if you don't stop me."

He frowned. "How am I supposed to look at you and not see you?"

"Okay, different strategy." Malia walked a circle around him, kicking absently at the dirt. "Maybe it's not about saving yourself. Maybe it's about saving someone else."

"That still doesn't eliminate the part where you're you and I can't hurt you." Scott shrugged unapologetically. "Unless you've got a Halloween mask laying around somewhere."

"If Stiles was here, he'd tell you to pretend I was an evil clone of myself."

Scott snorted. "I'd probably just try to reason with them. If they're a clone of you, there's gotta be something good in them."

Malia paused and turned to look at him searchingly. "You would, wouldn't you?"

Scott shrugged, not looking the least bit apologetic.

"Okay." She took a deep breath. "New new strategy... You're not trying to hurt me, just subdue me."

His gaze darted to the side. "Okay. I can do that... probably."

She nodded. "I'm going to run at you and I want you to find a way to pin me down. You don't have to hit me or throw me. You just need to find a way to keep me down."

Scott hesitated a beat, but eventually said, with some certainty, "Okay."

Malia rocked back on her heels and then launched herself forward. She was expecting Scott to meet her half-way. To grab her around the waist and bring her to the ground. To pin her arms to her chest and try to immobilize her. Instead, he took the hit. She barreled straight into his chest and he flew back, landing hard on the ground with a grunt. Ready to ask him what the hell kind of plan that was, she was surprised to feel his arms wrap around her, hugging her to his chest, his arms locked in place and his legs wound around hers to keep them from moving, too.

She blinked. "Are you bear hugging me into submission?"

His eyes widened. "It was the only thing I could think of that wouldn't be rough."

Malia let out a stunned laugh and dropped her face to his chest. Her whole body shook as her laughter increased. And when she looked up, Scott was smiling at her, his eyes soft. "You're such a dork," she muttered.

"It worked, didn't it?"

"On me, yeah. But if you were a real threat and we were fighting..." She pressed her fingers against his ribs and he flinched both at the tickling sensation and the sudden pressure. "There are ways to still hurt you. You're too vulnerable like this."

His arms loosened and Malia sat up, drawing her legs up to plant her knees in the dirt while she sat on his stomach. "When you fought the alpha, you were fast. You never stopped moving and that made you a harder target to attack. You didn't hesitate to kick and claw and attack. And that's how you're going to have to do it. It doesn't mean you have to go for the throat. But as much as I like your bear hugs, I don't think the Alpha will."

Scott sighed. He reached back and tucked his arms under his head. "Maybe we can start smaller."

"Like what?"

"Like..." His brows pinched together. "Reflexes? When we started out with Stiles, it was with a swipe and I ducked it. So, let's start there. Maybe instinct will kick in and I'll learn how to swipe back."

"Okay. We can start there and then I'll show you some other moves."

"Like that leg sweep thing? That was cool."

Malia nodded. "Sure. And it doesn't all have to be attack stuff, either. I mean, when you're on the lacrosse field and you're dodging people and flipping over them, that stuff helps, too. You already know how to do that, you just need to figure out how to use it."

"So, running away is still an option."

She snorted. "Depending on the enemy, yeah. For sure."

…

Scott and Malia spent a good hour working on their reflexes; from dodging a hit to the leg sweep. Some of it, Malia just modeled and Scott mirrored. While other things, they tried against each other. Scott wasn't comfortable trying to hit her, but he was okay with ducking anything she had to throw at him. The more they practiced, the better they got at it.

"I can't tell if we're fast learners or if it's because we're shifters."

"I'm leaning more toward shifter." Scott shook his head. "I was never this quick."

He had a point. Much as Scott tried, his asthma tended to hold him back. He was doing a lot better. Much as she knew he would gladly relinquish his new abilities just to be human again, there were undeniable upsides to it. At least if they embraced it. That's what she was trying to do. She wanted to see the positives in this new change. That didn't mean she wasn't fully aware of the downsides— turning into a coyote and possibly never turning back being the biggest one— but if this was her new normal, then she wanted to know everything she could. And she wanted to test herself in every way.

Malia made her way over so she was standing directly across from Scott. "I want to try something else."

"Like what?"

"Well, fighting is kind of like a dance, right?"

Scott's brow furrowed, not quite comprehending.

"When you're dancing with someone, you anticipate their moves and you take cues from their body language. So, if I move forward..." She stepped toward him.

Scott stared at her, now just inches away. "Was I supposed to step back?"

"I forgot you suck at dancing." Suddenly aware of just how close they were, her gaze flickered to his mouth and then back. Trying to shake it off, she reached for him and brought his hands to her hips. "When I move, you move." Her own hands fell to his shoulders, where she squeezed just a second before she took a step forward with her right foot. He did step back, but with the wrong foot.

Wincing, he said, "I wasn't sure which foot..."

"I need you to feel it." She stared at him. "Feel my body as it moves, and you'll know which way I'm going."

He nodded slowly and Malia felt his fingers tighten against her.

She took a step forward.

Scott stepped back too, a little awkwardly but the right foot this time.

"Okay, now try to feel which way my body is leaning."

Scott's gaze fell and his fingers flexed against her hips. "Left... Right... Right... Forward?"

She smiled. "Yep. Now do it again and lean with me."

Scott nodded.

Together, they moved right, right, left, right, and—

As Malia leaned forward, so did Scott, until they were so close, their noses were bumping.

"Uhh..." Scott's eyes widened. "Sorry."

"It's fine." She rubbed his shoulders. "Let's do it again."

Right. Left. Right. Right. Lean.

"You got it!"

He nodded. "One more time?"

They tried it again and again and suddenly, Malia realized they were just dancing circles around the forest. Spinning and moving completely in sync. It didn't feel like she was teaching him anything anymore. It just felt like they'd gotten caught up in a moment. When they got a little too close to a low-hanging branch, her hand darted up and hooked around the nape of his neck, tugging gently. Smiling, he ducked to avoid it. Instead of returning to his shoulder, she left her hand where it was, his hair gently brushing against her skin.

"Hey, even if it doesn't help me with fighting, I'll be a pretty good dancer for winter formal."

Malia snorted.

Scott stared at her a beat and then his expressed turned somber. "Not that I'm complaining about any of this, but... do you think we'll end up fighting a lot?"

Malia felt a weight settle low in her stomach. "I don't think the Alpha's gonna stop on their own. And I'm not sure there's anybody else strong enough to stop them."

"Than us?"

"You, me, Derek." She nodded. "We're kind of the only ones around that know what's happening and can do something."

"What about the Argents?"

"We can't trust them." She rolled her eyes. "I mean, I trust Allison. But..."

"Yeah. I know." Scott sighed. "It's just not how I saw things going, y'know? I just wanted to play lacrosse."

"I know." She smiled. "Look on the bright side, though. You're first string, you can run marathons, pick up trucks, sniff out coyotes, and... save the town from some pyscho murdering furball."

He snorted. "I could probably do without most of that."

"Yeah, but I'm kind of glad I'm not the only shifter around. Which is... totally selfish, but..."

"No, I get it." He bit his lip. "I mean, there was Derek, but it was different. I still felt alone. And now... I don't." He stared down at her a moment. "I'm glad we're doing this together."

"Me, too."

They slowed to a stop then, inches apart. Scott's hand had drifted to the small of her back and Malia's had slid down his arm. It was intimate. An embrace that felt far from just friendly. She could hear his heart beating hard in her ears, or maybe it was her own. Her hand felt almost too warm, pressed against his neck, like the weight of it resting there was obvious.

"Why were we dancing again?"

"So we'd know how to mirror opponents or each other. If you know how my body moves, you can anticipate what I'll do in a fight."

"Yeah, I like how your body moves." He blinked. "Uhhh… I mean, you're good at this and I'm learning a lot."

Malia nodded. "It's a nice break from punching you in the face, huh?"

Scott rolled his eyes. "That was one time!"

"You ducked the three before it."

"I got distracted!" His face flushed. "Anyway, I think my nose healed."

Chuckling to herself, Malia brought her hand up and tenderly poked at his nose. "Does it hurt?"

"A little."

"Baby."

Not the least bit offended, Scott merely smiled. "Why don't we test these mirroring skills out?"

"You're on."

…

They were definitely learning faster. As much as Scott tended not to hit back, he was ducking and avoiding every punch and kick Malia threw. When she advanced, he pulled back. When she went low, he leapt high. It was another kind of dance, in its own way. Maybe it was the increased awareness that they were faster, stronger, and more balanced than ever before. There was less fear of bending or breaking something, because their reflexes were so quick to make up for any mistakes.

Malia circled him, out of breath but eager to keep fighting. She felt energized and she wanted to take advantage of it. "You need to give me something to work with. I can't be the only one throwing punches."

Scott winced. "I know…"

"Even if you hit me, I'll heal."

He nodded, his brow furrowed.

"You don't look so sure about that."

His gaze darted downward, to her injured side. "Are you healed yet? Fully, I mean."

Malia nodded. "Yeah, basically. I checked this morning and even the Alpha wounds are almost totally gone."

"Almost?"

Malia sighed. "It doesn't hurt. There's some bruising left, but it's almost completely healed."

Scott clenched his teeth. "Okay."

She paused. "Okay?"

"Yeah. I… You were right. You're training, too. You need to know what your limits are… if you even have any."

She snorted. "I'm sure I do."

He half-smiled. "So, let's find out then."

Malia turned to face him better. "Do your worst."

Scott seemed to psych himself up, bouncing back on his heels, his hands flexing before they folded into fists. And then he lunged at her. Instead of pausing or doubting himself like he usually did, he kept coming, and she didn't move. She could see the flash of surprise cross his face as he barreled into her, his arms around her waist as he tackled her to the ground. As they fell, she took the brunt of his weight, and landed hard on her back.

Scrambling to sit up, he stared down at her worriedly. "What was that? You didn't even fight back!"

Getting her elbows under her, she leaned up. "I was taking a page out of your book. Look, no broken bones, no serious wounds, nothing." She raised her eyebrows. "I'm not going to break."

Sighing, he sat back. "All right. Point made."

"Good." Malia pulled her legs up, crossed them under his stomach, and slammed him back against the ground.

"Oof."

Grinning, she untangled herself and stood up. "Come on." Grabbing his hand, she helped him to his feet. Once he was upright, she dusted the leaves and dirt off his back.

"Hey… Can I try something?"

She looked up at him curiously. "Go for it."

"The dancing stuff we were doing, you said I could use it to figure out how you'll move in a fight. It's a partnership, right? Like… If we were in a fight together, against someone else, we could use that, use each other against them."

Malia cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"Here…" He reached for her hand and pulled her out to the center of the clearing. "You know gymnastics, so you're better at the flipping and stuff."

"I don't know, you were flipping around pretty good against the alpha."

"Maybe it was a fluke."

Malia frowned. "Scott, not everything you do is by accident. At some point, you need to trust your instincts." She poked a finger against his chest. "You might not have studied gymnastics, but you can still do things."

"Okay, so let's try it out." He stepped back from her. "I want you to use me as your jump off point. I can catch you and throw you, kind of like—"

"Like an arrow. Point and shoot. You use the speed I have from running and your own strength, and I become the weapon."

Scott nodded. "Yeah. Something like that."

Shrugging, Malia backed up. "Okay. It's worth trying." She watched him for a beat. "Ready?"

He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie up. "Yeah."

Malia ran toward him, arms pumping at her sides. But just when she got close, Scott bent forward and low. Confused, Malia went up and over. She rolled across his back before her feet landed heel-first in the dirt. She skidded a good five feet across the forest floor, kicking up dirt and debris, her arms wind-milling to keep her balance. Turning back around, she put her hands on her hips. "What was that?"

"I panicked!" He shrugged. "I started to think about how it could go wrong. What if I throw you and you hit a tree or something?"

Malia rolled her eyes. "Okay. Then let's try something else."

Scott sighed. "I'm holding you back."

"No, you're just stuck in your head. You're thinking about all the ways it can go wrong instead of how it might go right." She walked back toward him. "I think you had the right idea. We can use each other to increase our strength. Like, if I need to kick someone and you swing me around, then, in theory, I'll be kicking them harder. Right?"

"In theory, yeah."

"So, let's try it." She took his hands and held them out. "You don't have to let go. You just have to grab on."

Scott nodded.

Malia backed up again, dug the toe of her shoes down against the ground, and then pushed off. She ran across the space between them and, this time, Scott didn't panic. He grabbed her hands when she was in reach, and pivoted. What they hadn't anticipated was that the momentum of Malia's jump would end up pulling Scott along with her. So instead of swinging up and around, she pulled him right off the ground. They flew a few feet before eventually landing stomach first on the ground.

With a grunt and a laugh, Malia turned over. "Okay. It might need some work."

Scott let out a strained laugh, his breathing off from the hard landing. "Yeah. A bit."

"Still a good idea though."

"Uh-huh."

"We just need to perfect it."

"Sure."

Malia pulled herself up and walked to him, turning him over onto his back so they were facing each other. "We're not going to get it right if we don't do it again."

Groaning, Scott held his hands out, and Malia obligingly helped him to his feet.

Putting a hand on his hip, Scott winced. "What about what you did before?"

"When?"

"When I panicked. You rolled over my back. If you were expecting it, you could kick someone that way."

Malia nodded. "Yeah, probably."

"So… Maybe I could try that one."

She smiled. "Sure."

Scott crossed the ground to take up position while Malia got ready.

"Keep your arms pulled in close and let your feet drop so you don't just immediately land on the ground. Pull your legs in front of you when you start to roll off."

Scott nodded.

"Okay. Ready… Go!"

Scott ran toward her. Malia kept an eye on his body language and then ducked low, angling her shoulder down so he wouldn't hit it. She felt him roll across her back evenly and then turned her head to see him land. He was a little unsteady, his knees nearly giving out, but he caught himself. Turning back around, he grinned at her.

Malia nodded at him. "You did it!"

He beamed. "I did!"

Feeling like they were making real progress, she said, "You wanna try it again?"

…

After getting the hang of the back tumble, they spent a good half hour focused solely on rolling, flipping, and cartwheeling. Malia tutored Scott through the basics that she'd learned in gymnastics and then gradually increased a regular roll into a dive roll. From there, they started incorporating their surroundings. Running up the sides of trees before back flipping to land on their feet. Using branches to swing themselves up high before flipping off them and rolling across the ground. Malia showed him a few cartwheels, including how to do it without using their hands. And while Scott was less inclined to do cartwheels, he did enjoy the flipping and rolling. There was something freeing about all of it. The more he tried, the more he trusted his body not to give out on him.

"I think the flips come naturally to you." Malia sat on the ground, her back resting against a tree with her legs outstretched. She drank liberally from a bottle of water, swiping at her chin when some of it dribbled out. "You show them off a lot in lacrosse anyway."

Scott grinned from his position sprawled out on the grass beside her, picking up a few pieces and tossing them aimlessly. "What do you think you're good at?"

She shrugged. "Running. It's what I'm used to."

"The self-defence stuff comes in handy. You've taught me a few things." More than a few things. He felt a little bad that he wasn't able to do the same for her. Unless she wanted to learn how to play lacrosse or to stitch up a furry patient, Scott wasn't sure what he really had to offer.

"It's kind of fun."

"What is?"

"Doing all of this." She waved vaguely. "A couple days ago, I wouldn't be able to do half this stuff."

Scott looked up at her curiously. "Does that mean you're okay with it? Or getting there?" It felt like it had taken forever for him to get anywhere near acceptance. Sometimes he wasn't entirely sure he had accepted his new lot in life. But, avoiding it hadn't done him any favors.

"I don't know." Her brow furrowed. "I still have questions and I don't know how I'll feel until I have answers to them. But, I don't hate it."

Scott nodded. "I knew you'd be good at it."

Malia looked down at him a moment, something soft and warm in her expression. And then she reached out and brushed some of his shaggy hair out of his eyes, her fingertips gently grazing his forehead.

Scott felt his heart thump and shift in his chest; his mouth went dry and his breath stuttered. This was exactly what made getting over her seem so impossible. It was every little touch and the way she looked at him and that gentle side of her that snuck out at the most unexpected times. When suddenly, he felt like he was the only person in her world and she might like that as much as he did.

"I think I might've skipped a lot of the freaking out because I already saw you go through it."

Scott swallowed. "Yeah? So, I was like your guinea pig."

Rolling her eyes, Malia shook her head. "Hardly. And I haven't even been through a full moon yet… There's one coming up next Monday."

"Yeah." He frowned as the once light mood suddenly felt heavy. "What're we going to do?"

Malia sighed. "I don't know. We'll have to figure something out with Stiles."

Scott's brow furrowed. "Yeah."

"Are you scared?"

He looked up, surprised. "Scared?"

"You've only been through one moon before this and it was a little… intense." She searched his face. "You jumped out your window and ran into those hunters."

He grimaced. "I just hope it doesn't hurt like it did." Sitting in his bathtub, his body felt like it was on fire; every limb and muscle pulling and twisting. He thought he was going to break right out of his skin. The only upside had been having Malia there, trying to calm him down.

"Yeah, me either." Her gaze fell to her lap. "Scott, if I turn into a coyote… I need you to find me and bring me back."

There was a tremor in her voice. It sounded off; like picking at the wrong cord on a guitar. Malia had said before that it felt like she was stuck and there was no way out, but maybe he hadn't completely understood what that felt like. For him, his shift wasn't as absolute. He didn't have control, but he also didn't turn into an actual wolf. He wondered if that would be better or worse. From the sounds of it, he would have to go with worse.

Scott sat up and shifted so he was sitting beside her, shoulder to shoulder. "You know I will." He turned to look at her. "It's just going to take some time for you to get control. Then, maybe you can shift as much or as little as you want, you know? Maybe one day you'll want to shift into the coyote. For a little while anyway."

"Maybe." She shook her head. "But right now, it feels like she wants to be in control. Like she wants to just take over and keep me stuck there."

Scott tried to imagine what that would be like— if Malia just disappeared and there was nothing but the coyote left, roaming the woods, on the fringes of life. It settled heavy in his stomach. Both Malia and Derek had emphasized that the werewolf was just a part of who Scott was now. According to Derek, it was a gift. While Malia seemed to think that, eventually, the wolf would be more influenced by Scott than the other way around. A big difference between his wolf and her coyote though was the intention of each. Scott often felt like the wolf wanted to hurt people. But when it came to Malia's coyote... "You said she wanted to protect you, right?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"From what?"

She paused. "The Alpha."

"Is that all?"

Malia chewed the inside of her cheek. "Everything, I guess. The stuff with my dad. My mom and my sister… How scared I've been lately."

Scott turned to her. She stared out at the ground ahead, giving him only her profile.

"I tried…" Her voice quivered. "I tried really hard to be strong. But after the video store and then at Allison's and then the school, I just… I felt so weak. Like there was nothing I could do. And I wanted my dad to be there. I wanted him to care, but he doesn't. He can't. And I want to hate him for it. I think I do. But…" She swallowed tightly. "I wish it was different. I wish he could be who I need him to be. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," he murmured.

Scott thought of Rafael; of missed phone calls and cancelled visits. Of the growing, festering resentment that had shadowed him so much when he was younger. Of the father he wished Rafael could be. And even the father he had been once. Scott was lucky enough to have his mom when his dad just couldn't be there. But that didn't erase the hurt and pain of having but not having a father had left in him.

Blinking quickly against a sheen of tears, Malia tipped her head back and stared up through the crowded tree branches. "I know there's no point in wishing my mom was here, but I do. Because she'd make it better. She'd make me feel strong. And I just… I don't. Physically, I'm the strongest I've ever been, but in my head, I feel like this weak little girl who doesn't know what she's doing."

Scott reached out and found her hand; he turned it over and slid his palm over hers, folding their fingers together. "I can't make this better. I wish I could. I wish I could bring your mom back or help your dad or just make you feel stronger." He squeezed her hand. "All I can do is be here until you feel strong again. And probably for a long time after that, too."

Malia sniffled and turned to see him. "Probably?"

He stared at her, the space between them seeming incredibly small in the moment. "Definitely."

Malia swallowed tightly. "Good."

Scott reached out then, his fingers tucking a piece of hair away from her cheek. "We should dance again."

Her brow furrowed. "What, now?"

Scott shrugged. "Yeah." Pushing up from the ground, he pulled her along with him. "It's good for training, right?"

"Yeah…" Her eyes narrowed. "Are you sure this isn't to cheer me up?"

Scott tugged her closer and brought her hands up onto his shoulders while his own fell to her waist. "Would it work?"

Malia stared at him a beat and then stepped closer, until they were chest to chest. "Maybe."

Scott's fingers walked up her sides before sliding around to meet at the small of her back. "Can't hurt to try."

She took a step forward and his foot moved back, anticipating her. "You think we can take the Alpha for a spin before the next fight?"

His mouth split in a grin. "I don't know if it'd make a good partner."

"Probably not." They moved around in circles, the surrounding world a blur of brown and green. "Your dancing's improved."

"Maybe it's you." He leaned forward, until their foreheads met. "If I had to pick a partner, I'd pick you every time."

"For dancing?"

Scott's gaze fell from hers, resting on her mouth, and then rose to meet hers again. It was a gamble and, maybe one he wasn't thinking through completely, but the words were out before he could properly weigh them. "For everything."

One of Malia's hands climbed Scott's shoulders to hook around the nape of his neck. Scott felt her fingers against his skin like a brand; warm and heavy in a way that suggested that he would feel them there long after she'd let go.

Suddenly, however, they were falling. And not quite in the way that he hoped. An upturned root had caught the back of Scott's foot and they tumbled to the ground. He wrapped his arms around her as he landed, trying to break her fall. She let out a muted yelp and then an 'oof' as she landed against his stomach.

Wincing, Scott reached behind his head; a dull, throbbing sensation echoed down his neck.

Malia startled. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just knocked my head against something."

"Let me see." She felt around under his head and came out with a chunk of wood. She showed it to him before she tossed it away. "Are you bleeding…? I can't smell any blood." Her fingers probed the back of his head, gently combing through his hair. "Are you dizzy or…?"

He stared up at her, his mouth upturned in a soft smile.

"What?"

"I think I'm okay." His gaze moved downward, to where she was sprawled out on top of him. "Are you okay?"

Malia rolled her eyes. "I'm fine. You cushioned my fall."

He hummed. "I guess my dancing isn't much better."

"It could be worse." She sat up and took his hands, standing and pulling him up with her.

"Yeah? How?"

"Stiles could've seen it."

Scott nodded. "He'd never let it go."

"Exactly." She took a step back. "Uh, we should call him, actually. See what he's doing."

"Yeah, he probably has something else for us to lift."

Malia snorted. "Probably."

"And you got your thing with Cole later, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Not for a couple hours yet."

Scott tucked his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, his stomach twisting up in knots. Somehow, even knowing that Malia wasn't quite as invested in Cole as he thought she was, the idea of them hanging out still sat funny inside him. Maybe it was the knowledge that hanging out meant making out. Or the fear that eventually her feelings for Cole would grow. In the end, he knew that was her decision and he'd end up supporting her either way. Her happiness mattered a lot more than his unrequited crush. "What're you going to do?"

Shrugging, she said, "I don't know. Talk to him, I guess."

His smile grew. "You look constipated."

She shoved his shoulder. "It's just uncomfortable."

"What, talking?"

"With certain people, yeah." Malia shrugged. "It's easy with some people. I don't even really have to think about it. But with other people… it's like pulling teeth. I don't know how to put what I'm feeling into the right words. And then I'm worried I'm going to hurt his feelings and that's a whole extra level of awkward."

"Maybe you could just pretend he's someone you can talk to."

"What, like, pretend he's you?"

Scott blinked. His heart stuttered and he swallowed tightly. "Would that help?"

She stared at him a beat. "I guess it depends on where the conversation goes."

Scott opened his mouth— to say what, he had no idea— but before anything could come out, he heard a familiar noise in the distance.

Malia turned her head, too. "Looks like we don't have to call Stiles..."

No, they didn't. Because that was definitely the struggling sound of Stiles' jeep coming up the driveway.

...

Once Stiles had been filled in on what, exactly, they'd practiced— some of which they performed for him, like excited children trying to show off to a semi-impressed parent— he asked them a hard, but obvious question.

"What about shifting?"

Scott and Malia exchanged a look. "What about it?"

Stiles rolled his eyes impatiently and walked toward them, his hands moving around insistently. "Well, have you tested it? I mean, I know Malia's freaked out she might turn completely, but that's kind of the point, right? The sooner we can help her get some kind of control of the shift the better— that way she's only got the furry face and not a full body coat."

Malia grimaced. "The last thing I want to do is purposely trigger the shift."

"And I get that. But, if we do this, if we get it down before the full moon, I'm betting you'll feel a lot better about it."

Scott sighed. "He has a point."

Malia crossed her arms and looked between them. "How would we even do it?"

"We start small." Stiles nodded. "Claws." He reached out and clapped a hand against Scott's shoulder. "You said when you were reaching for the bullet, when Derek was basically knocking at death's door, you made your claws come out so you could reach it. Right?"

Scott nodded.

"Okay, so how did it work? How'd you do it?"

"I don't know. I was worried." Scott shrugged. "I knew I had to do something or he was really going to die and it would kind of be my fault. So, I just… I made them come out."

"How?" Stiles stared at him seriously. "I mean, did you think about them getting longer? Did you focus on anything specific?"

"It's all kind of blurry. I was panicking and reaching, so I tried to calm down, to focus, and it just happened."

"We can work with that." Stiles drummed his fingers against his chin and turned to Malia. "All right. You're calm. There's nothing crazy happening. We're in the middle of the woods, so there's no one around you might hurt. All you have to do is make your finger nails claws. Sound good?"

Malia stared at him a beat. "That's your pep talk?"

"What? Yeah. What was wrong with it?" He looked from her to Scott and back. "I didn't think you needed a whole spiel."

Rolling her eyes, Malia brought her hands up and stared at her fingertips. "Now what?"

Scott pressed his lips flat to hide a smile and Malia glared at him.

"You do it then."

Scott shrugged his shoulders high. "I'm still figuring it out, too."

"Then why don't you try it out together," Stiles suggested. "No pressure. Just a totally normal exploration of your wolfie powers." He rubbed his hands together and then waved at them. "All right. Nails to claws. Go."

Scott took a deep breath and flicked his hands out. When he looked down, he was surprised to see that his nails had, in fact, changed.

"Hey, no fair." Malia pursed her lips and flicked her own hands out, her fingers curved up, but her nails staying as human as ever. "How'd you do it?"

"I don't know. I wasn't really thinking about it. I just did it."

"Super helpful. Any other suggestions?"

Scott smiled. "Don't overthink it. Just… let it happen. It's a part of us, right? Trust that it'll happen and it will… Maybe."

Malia sighed. "Your certainty is overwhelming."

"I'm still figuring a lot of this stuff out. Usually this happens when I'm freaking out and I have to calm down to make it go away." He frowned and then looked down at his claw-tipped fingers. "How do I make them go away if I'm already calm?"

"Let us know when you figure that out," Stiles said.

Malia glared down at her hands. "How am I supposed to handle another shift if I can't even figure out how to control my fingernails?"

"Hey, it takes time to get the hang of this stuff, right?" Stiles reached out and rubbed her arm encouragingly. "Scott's already had a month of trying and failing. You've only had a couple days. And so far, you're doing pretty good. You took a chunk out of an alpha and you're out here, flipping off trees like Tarzan. That's something."

Malia sighed. "I guess."

"We'll keep trying." Stiles shrugged. "Plus, I want to go over some ideas for what to do when the full moon hits. Mostly, I've been thinking chains, which… I'm guessing you won't like, but there's not a whole lot of other options." He looked between them. "Unless you guys have some ideas?"

Grimacing, Malia looked to Scott, who shrugged. "Not yet. But I'd prefer to avoid chains, if we can."

Stiles pointed at her. "Last resort, got it."

…

In the end, Malia found the half-shift elusive. As much as Scott tried to explain what it felt like, she wasn't sure how to make it happen for herself. And even he had to admit that most of the time, it wasn't in his control. The claws, teeth, and extra facial hair tended to sneak up on him. Which meant that it was going to be a process. Unfortunately, Malia was impatient. Which meant that every time she failed, she only grew more frustrated with herself. Until Stiles eventually pulled the plug on training and said they'd just have to come back to it.

Scott and Malia lingered on her porch while Stiles raided her kitchen for a bowl of cereal. Which reminded her, she really needed to go grocery shopping… Not that she really had the money for it right now. In fact, most of it would probably be spent at dinner with Cole. But, that was a whole other issue she didn't feel like thinking about or dealing with right now.

"I just wish I knew how all of it worked." Malia frowned. "I don't like feeling like my body is just going to do whatever it wants and I don't get a say."

Scott nodded. "I get it. It sucks. But… Today, out there, you were amazing. You're doing a lot more than I did the first week I changed."

"You were scared and confused," Malia defended. "You had no idea what was going on outside of Stiles' half-baked werewolf theory."

"Yeah, true. But, after an initial freak out, you jumped in with both feet." Scott stared at her searchingly. "It might take a little while, but you're going to figure it out. We both are."

"Maybe. But not before the full moon."

He licked his lips, his gaze falling to the porch floor. "Stiles has a plan for that."

"Chaining us up like we're—" animals.

Scott pushed off the wood pillar at his back and walked to her. He reached out, his hands gently folding around her forearms. "Hey… I know it's scary. I've been scared from the moment I started to change. But… you'll get through it." His fingers lightly dragged down her arms until his hands found hers. "The full moon lasts one night. We get through that and we have another month to work on our control."

"And then a lifetime of full moons." She stared up at him. "What if I never figure it out? Or what if the coyote gets control first?"

"She won't. Malia…" He stepped closer and raised one of his hands until it found her cheek. Malia leaned into it, her eyes falling to half-mast. "I found you once, I can do it again. I'll keep doing it. And I'll keep bringing you back."

Her mouth trembled. "So what, you're going to spend your whole life chasing down some wild coyote?" she joked.

"If I have to." His thumb stroked her cheek. "If it's you."

Malia's heart jumped.

And then the front door opened and Stiles poked his head out. "You're out of cereal. And milk." He spooned a bite into his mouth, milk dribbling down his chin. "Now."

Scott let out a strained laugh and stepped back. "We should probably go."

"What, now?" Stiles' brow furrowed. "But I just…" He held his bowl up meaningfully.

Scott stared at him.

"Fine." Stiles shoved his bowl into Malia's hands. "I mixed Alpha-bits and Honeycomb together. You're welcome."

Snorting, Malia nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

"Call me later," Stiles said, making his way down the stairs while he dug his jeep keys out of his jeans.

"I will." Malia looked to Scott. "Thanks for today. And last night." She shifted her feet awkwardly. "I don't think I was ready to be alone."

Scott half-smiled. "I'm only doing what you did for me." He turned on his heel and walked back toward the stairs then. "Text me later."

Malia nodded.

He paused at the top of the stairs and tucked his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. "Have fun tonight." His gaze darted away. "With Cole."

"Thanks."

Nodding, he turned and walked down the stairs, making his way to Stiles' jeep. He paused at the door and waved to her. Malia waved back. She waited until the jeep had pulled away, headlights bouncing, before she made her way inside. She tossed Stiles' mushy cereal out and then walked to the couch, flopping down and letting out a long, heavy sigh. One of these days, these emotionally charged moments with Scott were going to stop feeling all weird and floaty… right?

…

After showering, Malia changed into something a little more 'dinner date' appropriate. Only it wasn't a date, not really. It was… a meal… with another person… that she occasionally made out with. Speaking of, she hadn't done that in what felt like ages. Not that there was a quota she had to meet for make-outs with him or anything, but it sure felt like they hadn't connected on that level much since this whole people-with-benefits thing started. Now, they were a lot more like just people.

Sitting on her bed, she was brushing her tangled, wet hair, when she heard her phone ringing. Plucking it from her bedside table, she flipped it over to see Allison's smiling face staring back at her. Hitting 'Answer,' she raised it to her ear. "Hey."

"Hey!" Allison's voice was warm and cheerful. "Sooo, I talked to my dad. It took some convincing, but he said I could stay over at your place tomorrow night."

"Great!" Malia sat back against her headboard. "Any ideas if Lydia plans on coming over, too?"

"She's kind of been texting me non-stop about what I'm going to wear and asking if you have eggs. I guess she has a really strict breakfast routine or something. So, I'm going to go with 'yeah,' she's definitely going to be there."

Malia hummed. "What'd you decide to wear?"

"What did Lydia decide for me, you mean?" She laughed lightly. "Just jeans and a nice top. She was pushing a skirt, but I put my foot down."

"Good for you."

"Yeah. What about you?"

Malia shrugged. "No idea. Haven't really thought that far ahead."

"Why don't I come over early? I can help you get ready. It'll be the quintessential 'girly' experience."

Malia's voice turned teasing, "I thought you said you weren't girly?"

"I'll make an exception."

Malia smiled. "Girly experience it is."

…

Malia wasn't sure why she was nervous. Sitting in a booth at Rosie's, she rolled her milkshake between her hands, feeling each cold, hard ridge of the glass leave an imprint against her palms, and waited on Cole to show up, double checking the time on her phone a few times. It was raining outside; she watched it pepper the windows and then watched a few droplets make their trek down. Absently, she picked one and waited to see if it would win the race against the other droplets.

The bell hanging over the door rang then, drawing her attention. Cole stepped inside and flipped the hood back on his jacket. His hair was damp but not soaked, some of it clinging to his forehead before he ran his fingers through it and walked down the aisle toward her. He smiled when their eyes met. Malia pondered the absence of butterflies and bowling-ball sized feelings. Was it Cole or was she just in so deep with Scott that nobody else had a chance?

"Is that a milkshake?" His grin widened as he shrugged off his jacket and took a seat across from her. "You know it's cold out, right?"

"Hardly." She brought her milkshake closer and stared at him searchingly. "Is that from the rain or did you shower?"

"The rain. I didn't make it to my car in time. Why? Does it make me look good?"

Malia huffed a laugh. "No."

"No?" His brows hiked playfully. "I don't think I've ever heard that before."

"Your ego's showing."

Cole leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Why'd you call me?"

She shrugged. "I told you. I'm cashing in a rain check."

He hummed, and then looked away as a waitress dropped by the table. He ordered a coffee with a plate of pancakes and bacon. Once she was gone, he turned back to Malia. "You remember on Tuesday, we had lunch together?"

Malia nodded slowly, confused by the sudden topic change.

"And you said you didn't share food."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is this a precursor to you telling me I can't have any of your pancakes?"

"No." His mouth ticked up at the corner. "I'm happy to share."

"Thanks."

He took a deep breath. "After you said that, Scott dropped by the table. All he had were some carrots or something, so you gave him half your sandwich."

A cold rush of feeling fell over her, sudden realization dawning. "I remember."

Cole stared at her searchingly. "After our bowling date, you said you were getting over someone and you didn't want to jump into something. It never really bugged me. Whoever they were, they were out of your life, and you were ready to move on. And then we decided to just enjoy the benefits. So, jealousy didn't make sense. And I'm not saying I am." He drummed his hands against the table. "I liked you right away. You're funny and beautiful and... a lot snarkier than I expected."

"Part of my charm," she muttered.

"Yeah, it is. So, I liked you, and I wanted to see where it went, but I was okay when you said it would only go so far. I don't need rose petals and hand holding and dramatic declarations of love and forever." He paused. "When I found out about the video store, I felt guilty. If we weren't getting together that night, you never would've been there. And I know you felt uncomfortable when I said I was worried. Maybe you thought I was catching serious feelings."

"I had some suspicions."

"And maybe I was. A little. But I respect you and what you want. And I know that I'm not who you want."

Malia swallowed.

The waitress returned with a mug then, filled it with coffee, and left a bowl with individual cups of cream behind. Malia watched as Cole opened three and poured them each into his mug before reaching across the table for the sugar, which he poured in liberally. Stirring her milkshake, she chewed her lip.

"I'm not mad." Cole half-smiled at her. "And I'm not trying to put you on the spot."

"Then what are you doing?"

"Offering an ear, I guess." He shrugged. "We said when we started this that the benefits part wouldn't interrupt the friendship. But I don't think we've had much time to work on that."

Malia shook her head. "Not really."

"Look, I get the feeling you don't let a lot of people in."

She snorted. "You could say that."

"You don't have to tell me your life story, and you don't have to tell me what's going on with you and Scott if you don't want to. But I thought maybe you could use a friend. Maybe we'll have better luck with that, since we keep getting interrupted otherwise."

Malia sat forward and rested her arms on the table. "Scott's my best friend."

Cole stared at her a beat, nothing in his expression suggesting he was judging her. There was a knowing, sympathetic tilt to his mouth instead. "When did it change?"

"It didn't. Not really. He's always been my best friend. Now he's just… He's more than that, too."

Cole nodded. "Does he know?"

"No."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

She frowned. What was it with people and asking her that? "Pretty sure, yeah."

"So, you don't think he feels the same way." He said it like a statement, not a question.

She shook her head. "He doesn't."

Cole hummed and lifted his coffee for a sip.

"What was that?" She mimicked his hum. "What does that mean?"

He lowered his mug. "Nothing."

Malia rolled her eyes. "That was not a 'nothing' hum. That was a 'something' hum."

Cole half-smiled. "You're a straight forward person. I like that about you."

"Okay."

"I'm really close with my mom. Did I ever tell you that?"

"No. Not really. You don't talk about your family much."

"There's a reason." Cole tapped his fingers against the table. "I don't like my dad. He's not a good person and I don't really like being home or around him. He's... angry. All the time. About everything and nothing. It gets exhausting just being around him. And my mom... She's the opposite. She's the kind of person you can always go to and she'll make you feel better. Growing up, when my dad would get mad at me for not cleaning up all my toys or not winning my basketball games or not getting straight A's, my mom would stand up for me. She'd put herself between us every time. She's that kind of person. If someone else is being treated like shit, she'd stand up for them. But, if it was... If she was being yelled at, she just took it. She never stood up for herself. She let him walk all over her." His brow furrowed. "You kind of remind me of her. I'm not saying you're quiet or meek or small, but when it comes to standing up for yourself, for asking what you deserve, you don't. I think you see more value in other people and I'm not really sure why. I don't know if you're beating yourself up for something I just don't know about. But... I notice it."

Malia chewed her lip. "Pretty big claim for someone who doesn't spend a lot of time with me."

"Maybe I'm observant."

She sat back in her seat and stared at him a beat. "Scott's not a prize I can win if I like myself."

"No. But he's also not someone who can leave you if you never try to have him."

Her jaw ticked. "So maybe I spook easy when it comes to feelings."

Cole wrapped his hands around his coffee mug. "I don't know Scott very well. The few times we've talked, he didn't seem too interested in knowing me. And that's okay. I'm not going to hold it against him. But I like to think I know you a little better. You're a good person, Malia. You care about people and you protect your friends and you're a great kisser."

She snorted a laugh.

He half-grinned. "Look, I... I can be happy with what we have. We can leave here, go back to my place, put on some music and 'hang out.' Or we can stay here, have something to eat, and work more on friendship than benefits." He shrugged. "Or we can scrap the whole thing. If that's what you want."

The waitress appeared then. She dropped off a bottle of syrup and a plate of pancakes and bacon.

Malia leaned forward, stole a slice of bacon, and said, "I'm getting kinda good at this 'making friends' thing... Let's start there."

Cole smiled. "Okay."

…

Scott was started to get dizzy watching Stiles pace from one end of the living room to the other.

"Back up, you two were having some kind of intense, forest dance with each other, and you told her that you would pick her to be your partner in everything?" Stiles let out a muted, strangled noise. "And she just, casually, accepted that?"

Scott shrugged. "I guess. I kind of tripped and we fell, so we didn't really have time to talk about it."

Stiles paced. "Okay, but you definitely said that, right? Like, those exact words?"

Scott's brow furrowed. "Yeah. But, I don't see what the big deal is… She's going out with Cole later. She's probably with him right now. And she even said that his feelings are changing, or she thinks they are."

"Yes. She also said that hers aren't." Stiles whirled around, a hand on his hip, and widened his eyes. "How many ways are you guys going to spell this stuff out for each other?"

"What do you mean?"

Abruptly taking a seat, Stiles clasped his hands together and rested his forehead against them, before letting out a semi-hysterical laugh. "This is what I get. I have been a great best friend. And this is what I get for being loyal."

Scott stared at him. "Are you okay?"

"I am—" Stiles looked up, folded his mouth closed, and took a deep breath through his nose. "I am only going to say this… one more time… Okay?"

Scott nodded slowly.

"Scott… you're in love with Malia. You have been for a long time. And for whatever reason, you decided to be a martyr and just not tell her that your feelings had changed. Whatever. But now, here we are, after six years of friendship. And she is literally the closest person in your life." He paused. "Besides me. I like to think we're just as close but on a different, less sexually charged level. You know?" He waved a dismissive hand. "Anyway. The point is, that you and Malia are… you… and if you could just…" He gritted his teeth. "You need to tell her. I'm not just saying that for you or for her, I'm saying it for me. This avoidance, with the excuses and the implied feelings stuff, it's all just getting in the way. And I can't take it anymore, okay? I need you to get it together and just…" He clapped his hands together and then pointed them at Scott. "Okay?"

Scott opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, Stiles held a finger up.

"No. No excuses. I don't want to hear them. I'm going to go pick up dinner for me and my dad. And I want you to sit here and think about your relationship with Malia, okay? All of it. Every minute moment you two shared. And I want you to think about it from her side, not just yours. When you figure it out, you let me know."

"But—"

Stiles waved his hand and hurried to the door. "No buts!" With that, he left, slamming the door behind him.

Scott frowned.

A moment later, the door opened, and a confused Melissa walked in. She waved a thumb behind her. "Is Stiles okay?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah, just… being Stiles."

Melissa shrugged. "If you say so."

…

After a surprisingly pleasant dinner with Cole, Malia was feeling pretty good. Up until she arrived home to a surprise.

Henry's truck was parked in the front.

Her stomach suddenly bottomed out and she stood, awash in uncertainty. The flash of Cole's headlights bounced across the front of the house as he backed up and turned to leave down the road. Malia seriously considered turning tail and running. Stiles would come pick her up if she asked; it wasn't a big deal. At the same time, however, she knew that avoiding it would only last for so long. That said, when she patted her hands against her hips and tried to take a deep breath, she quickly realized that claws had formed and left some not so attractive tears in her jeans. Great. She couldn't make them appear at will, but here they were, exactly when she didn't want them. Malia stared at her hands a long moment, at the nails that could do pretty much nothing against her emotional turmoil. This was going to suck, guaranteed. It would be hard and emotional and maybe she'd end up feeling even more hurt than the last time her and her dad spoke. But adding claws to the equation wouldn't help. No, she needed to be calm. She needed to bottle up her feelings and face whatever was inside her house.

Malia focused on her breathing. She sucked air in through her nose and blew it out through her mouth, over and over. She tapped her fingers against her hips and paced from one side of her driveway to the other in long, quick strides. Until, eventually, her heart had slowed down, her claws had reverted to nails, and she felt a little steadier. She was still unsure about what to expect, but she was ready to face it.

Malia climbed the porch stairs and crossed to the front door. Her hand hesitated against the handle for just a moment before she turned it and stepped inside. She held her breath, half-expecting the sudden and bitter odor of empty beer cans. She'd only been gone a couple hours, but still. Her eyes automatically moved to the couch— an all too familiar sight was him passed out, a few cans or bottles laying around. What she wasn't expecting was an empty couch, the throw blanket folded and laid over the back. The door closed behind her as she stepped inside, casting her gaze toward the kitchen and dining room.

"I wasn't sure you'd come inside."

Malia stared at her dad's back. He was sitting at the table, his hands clasped together. No beer in sight. She tilted her chin and admitted, "I thought about leaving."

"Wouldn't blame you if you did." Henry reached out and tapped at the table, gesturing for her to join him. "We need to talk."

Grinding her teeth, she walked toward him, pulled out a chair and took a seat. She crossed her arms and leaned away, but the tips of her shoes were dug in, ready to push off the floor and put some distance between them.

"Malia..." He rubbed a hand against his forehead. "I owe you an apology."

She paused. Those weren't the words she thought she'd hear from him. An excuse. An angry rebuke for lying to him. But not an apology. Truthfully, she wasn't sure how to react. As it turned out, she didn't need to. Not yet at least.

"I, uh... I haven't been good to you, have I?" Henry blinked quickly. He gripped his hands together so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. "I tried to tell myself I was. That I was doing everything I could. I paid the bills, kept a roof over our heads, and I never missed a day of work. But, uh... There's a lot of things I did miss." He swallowed tightly. "I spent too many days living in a bottle and not right here with you. Days when you needed me."

Malia felt her heartbeat pick up. While she'd seen her dad epitomize the word 'misery' in the last six years, it was rare to hear it so clearly in his voice, and even more rare that it was about her. She'd gotten somewhat used to the drunken rants about what was lost and who he missed, but this didn't feel the same.

"Look, it's no excuse, but... After your mom and your sister died, I... I was lost. And Melissa McCall was a pretty good wake-up call back then. For a while, I guess. At some point, I started slipping again. And, uh..." He rubbed at his nose and cleared his throat. "And it was a lot worse than I thought it was, because somewhere along the way, you stopped trusting me. Stopped believing I'd be here if you needed me and I... I don't know if you can ever forgive me for that. I don't know if I can forgive myself for it. But... I owe you an apology."

Malia didn't move, staying perfectly still. She watched his face; the tension around his tear-filled eyes, the tremble of his chin, and the bob of his throat as he tried to swallow down the emotion building. A part of her felt bad. Wanted to reach out and tell him it was okay. Another part wasn't ready for that.

"I need you to know that there wasn't one day... not one day that I wished it was you instead of them... And it— It h-hurts me that you think there was. That you could think I would ever..." His voice caught and he unfolded his hands, reaching up to drag them roughly over his face. "What happened... what we lost... I know it weighs on you. And I know I haven't been there to help you through it. I... I told myself that you were strong. Stronger than I've ever been. That you had good people around you that were helping you. But that wasn't their responsibility. It was mine. And I should've done more. I should've listened to you instead of hiding from it…" His gaze darted around, but never quite met hers. "I didn't know how to help you, because I couldn't even help myself. And that's not an excuse, because I should've found a way. Do you understand that? I just need you to know that it was never about you. It was never that you weren't worth it. Because you are." He turned then, finally letting his gaze meets hers. "You're my daughter, Malia. You're my family. You're all I've got left in this world and I... I hate that I made you feel like you didn't matter."

Malia stared back, her own chin wobbling despite the silent rebuke she sent her body for showing even that tiny bit of weakness. Her throat tightened and burned and she knew, as soon as she opened her mouth, that her voice would be little more than a croak. But she still managed to tell him, "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. You don't owe me anything." Henry reached out, his hand upturned, palm open and fingers splayed. "I just need you to know that I'm going to get better. I'm going to be better. For both of us."

Malia stared at his hand a long moment. "What does that mean?"

"It means… No more drinking. It means I start listening more and being here when you need me. And it means that if something happens… you come to me. Maybe that takes some time for you to get used to, but it's a rule. So, if you get hurt, I don't find out about it from someone else." His brows hiked. "Okay?"

Malia chewed her lip.

"I know I haven't done a lot to be the dad you deserve. But I'm trying. I want to try. So, can you do this, can you give me some time to prove it to you?"

Her heart felt unsteady in her chest. It wasn't crazy for her to want a parent in her life that was steady and present. But their history wasn't exactly smooth sailing and a little voice in her head was quick to tell her not to get attached, because it would only blow up in her face.

Slowly, Henry's fingers closed. "It's okay." His voice was quiet and subdued. "You need some time. I get that."

Malia brought her hands down into her lap and folded them together, her fingers squeezing tightly. "I want to trust you. But…"

"But you don't." Henry sighed quietly. "I hurt you and you need to know I won't do it again."

Her eyes burned and her vision blurred. "What changed? Why now?"

Standing from his chair, Henry leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of Malia's head. Quietly, he told her. "I woke up." With a gentle squeeze of her shoulder, he said, "You woke me up."

Malia listened to his footsteps as he left. She stayed where she was, staring at the table top. Feelings warred inside of her. Hope. Fear. Anger. Regret. She wasn't sure which to focus on and so she sunk back against her chair and just tried to breathe. Maybe he was right. Maybe she just needed some time. To see if he would give up or keep trying. Maybe in a week or two or a month from now, she would see something more concrete. Or maybe she wouldn't. But for right now, she was choosing to see what would happen.

…

Across town, Erica sat at her desk, her legs folded beneath her, laptop open. She had to keep it plugged in at all times, otherwise it died. She was saving up for a new one, but this would have to work for now. It was doing the job, anyway. She had more than eight tabs open and none of them were for homework. She had the whole weekend to work on that. Tonight, she was trying to satisfy her curiosity. Which meant that three tabs were dedicated solely to Derek Hale, the Hale fire, and the Hale family as a whole. Erica couldn't say she remembered them much, if at all. But, apparently, the Hale family was a pretty big deal before nearly all of them were wiped out by a fire. Some papers said it was a freak wiring accident, while others suggested it was arson and murder. After a lot of digging, she found old news clippings filed online that mentioned Derek Hale and his many winning basketball games. She stared at black and white pictures of him cheesing for the camera and wondered if, at sixteen years old, he'd set the fire that wiped out his family. If he was always a blood thirsty psycho and he'd just come home to set his sights on completely innocent high schoolers. Or if he was just a patsy for whoever the real killer was.

Three more tabs were about local animals, the odds they would attack people, and if there was a history of cougar attacks like the ones that had happened recently. The last two tabs verged on the more unbelievable. The kind of thing that made her snicker even as she refused to close them. But she hadn't closed them, and that said something, right? All of her searching for large animals that purposely attacked or hunted people, that dragged the bodies away for eating or hiding, that picked specific people to focus on, and aside from giving her more than a few reasons to never go near the woods again, it had also brought up another, stranger possibility.

Opening her Facebook, Erica clicked on Danny's name. Despite just how crazy her life had been recently, it was still a little surreal that she had become somewhat friends with Danny Mahealani. Malia had been a surprise, too. But Danny had been completely unexpected. On the social ladder, she was basically on the ground, while he was somewhere near the top. Still, he'd been a pretty amazing support since everything went nuts.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she stared at the open conversation box. Hesitating entirely too long, she sighed, and leaned back in her chair. This was stupid. She was chased out of the video store by a cougar. And whoever locked them in the school was human. Scott McCall said it was Derek Hale. And Derek had a strange history that could possibly suggest that he was a killer. So, that made sense, right? A lot more sense than…

Her gaze skittered to the last two tabs that were open before falling back to Danny's name. She picked at her lower lip uncertainly. He'd think she was crazy, she was sure of it. And yet…

Erica sat forward and gathered her courage. She typed it out slowly, giving herself time to erase it and put this whole wild theory to rest. And it was wild. It was totally bonkers. Malia said it was a cougar. Mr. Argent shot and killed a cougar at the school. And Tuesday night was a freak attack by Derek Hale.

Only, Danny said that no one could move one of those garbage bins on their own; they were too big and heavy. And it was just strange, wasn't it? So many attacks in such a short amount of time. The bus driver, the video clerk, the janitor, the librarian, and eight teenagers. Three of whom had been there when the cougar attacked the video store… It just seemed too unlikely.

She stabbed the enter button and let her question reach out to Danny, half-hoping he wouldn't even respond.

Except, he was online, and it said that he was replying.

Erica stared at her question, her heart lodged in her throat, and wondered what he would say.

—do you think werewolves exist?

…

"I have to say... I wasn't expecting to see you. Not here, at least."

"I'm guessing you thought you'd have to track me down." He smiled, but it was weighed down by the defeated stoop of his shoulders and the exhaustion that lined his face.

Melissa had seen Henry in a tough spot in the past; she'd seen how the loss of his family had sucked much of the joy out of him. Over the years, she'd mostly watched those ups and downs from a distance. She welcomed Malia into her home and her arms and tried to be a positive and stable force in her life. Melissa couldn't replace Evelyn, she knew that. She didn't want to, either. Evelyn would always be Malia's mother. But, Malia needed, and clearly wanted, a female figure in her life, and she'd grown attached to Melissa over the years. The feeling was mutual. Melissa had seen just how close Scott and Stiles had become to that angry little girl Malia had first been. She'd seen Malia grow and soften over the years, too. But there were some things that didn't heal completely. Scar tissue had filled too many cracks and crevices in Malia's life, and part of that was on Henry's shoulders.

"Wouldn't be the first time..." Melissa stirred her tea as she sat back in her seat. "I worry about you, Henry. I worry about Malia, too. For a variety of reasons, not the least of which is her home life. But, that doesn't mean I don't worry about you and your well-being, too."

"I know." He reached up and scrubbed a hand over his mouth. "You, uh, you've been there for me and my family from the beginning. And I... I recognize that. I know I don't say it a lot and I know we keep our distance most of the time, but that's... That's on me. That's my fear and my..." His voice caught and he had to look away, to gather himself. "It's hard to look someone in the eye when they've seen you at your weakest, and you did. You saw me when I could barely keep my head up. Hell, I wasn't keeping my head up. And you told me to get it together. You made me get it together. That shouldn't have been your responsibility. But you took it on and I can't... I can't thank you enough for that."

Melissa stared at him a long beat and then nodded. "What's going on, Henry?"

He licked his dry lips and dropped his gaze to the table top, his brow furrowed tightly. "I think... I know that I'm failing my daughter. And I'm not sure I can fix it. I think it might be past that now. But I know that I can fix me. Or I can try to, at least." His mouth wobbled as he raised his eyes to meet hers. "I took off Tuesday night and I've been drying out in a motel in Fontana. I haven't had a drop since, which..." He shook his head. "Doesn't say a whole lot, I know. But... I want it to be a start."

Melissa picked up her mug and held it between her hands. "I don't know which part to focus on. The part where Malia was alone at home for all that time or that you tried drying out without any medical supervision. Something very serious could have happened. You should have called me, we could've done this the right way."

"I know. I wasn't thinking straight at the time. I was..." He rubbed a hand over his forehead. "Tuesday night, I found out about the cougar and the stitches, and I confronted her. I wanted to be mad at her, I wanted her to explain herself, I'm ready to ground her for keeping that from me. And she... She looks at me and she tells me that it doesn't matter. That I don't care. And then she tells me that she wishes it was her instead of Kylie and I..." He swiped quickly at his bristly cheek when a tear broke free. "I did that. I let her think that. I made her think that she wasn't worth anything."

"Henry..."

"I was supposed to protect her. Christ, if Evelyn was here, she'd kick my ass for letting it get like this." He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "I miss them. I really do. Every day I miss them and the life we used to have. But that doesn't mean I'm not grateful that I still have Malia. I don't know where I'd be without that kid." He shook his head. "I know I'm not doing good. And I know she deserves better. I just... I don't know how. I know the drinking has to stop and I need to get it together, but I don't know where I go from here."

Melissa nodded. She watched as Henry struggled to pull himself together. As he wiped his runny nose on the sleeve of his plaid shirt and swiped uncomfortably at his damp cheeks, Melissa sat forward. She rested her mug on the table with a dull thunk, and then she reached out and placed a hand on Henry's forearm, squeezing gently. "Why don't we start with a meeting?"

He stared at her a moment and nodded.

Melissa smiled faintly. "There's a regular AA meeting out of the rec center. Rafi tried going a few times. As far as I know, it's still running in the same place. Let me make a few calls, I'll confirm the place and time."

"Yeah. That, uh, that sounds good."

Melissa stood from the table, patted his shoulder, and made her way to the phone. "One day at a time, Henry. That's all you need to focus on."

Clearing his throat, he nodded. "I can do that."

…

Her dad had left. Malia wasn't sure where to, but a bitter part of her wondered if he'd already given up on his plan to do better and was right back to drinking. It did give her a chance to do something she'd been avoiding though. Malia dug her phone out and stared at the receipt sitting on her desk. She stared and stared until eventually, she couldn't avoid it any longer. She plugged in the number and raised the phone to her ear. She held her breath as it rang, over and over, with no answer. She waited for the voicemail to kick in, leaving her in the dark about Derek's whereabouts or wellbeing. But then—

"Took you long enough."

The words simultaneously made her heart soar and sink. "Not the best word choice."

He paused. "You must have questions."

She snorted. "You could say that."

He hummed. "I'll answer them."

"When?"

"What are you doing now?"

She checked the time. It was late, but not so much that she was actually thinking of putting this conversation off. Pushing up from her desk chair, she said, "I'm meeting you."

"My house is a bust. There are cops parked outside." His voice turned sour then, "I'm not happy about that."

"Join the club." Malia moved to her dresser and pulled out a pair of thick, wool socks. "Can you pick me up? We can drive and talk."

"Give me twenty minutes." Not one for goodbyes, he hung up, and Malia rolled her eyes.

She pulled her socks on and then sat on the end of her bed, wondering if this was the best idea. It wasn't so long ago that getting into a car with Derek Hale was the worst thing she could do. But now… Despite everything, a part of her still trusted him. Or wanted to. He was one of only a few people who had any idea what she was going through. She was a newly turned werecoyote with no idea how it happened or what it meant for her going forward. A full moon was coming up and she was terrified that she was going to fully shift again. And that wasn't even touching on the alpha and the mess that was bound to occur.

That said, she needed a little reassurance she was making the right choice here.

Stiles picked up after two rings.

"Is it just me, or do Alpha-bits and Honeycomb taste a lot alike?"

"What?" She paused and then rolled her eyes. "I didn't eat your soggy cereal."

Stiles scoffed. "Waste of a good meal."

"Uh-huh. Look, I called for a reason."

"Because you said you would?"

"No. Because I called Derek."

"What do you mean you 'called' Derek? Since when do you have his number?"

"Since this morning." She chewed her lip. "I forgot to mention it, but I found it on a receipt in Kylie's room. I don't know when he left it, but…" She shook her head. "Look, the point is that I called him and he wants to meet."

"What, now?" His voice raised. "I can't sneak out now. My dad's home. He'll notice."

"Good thing he doesn't want to meet you. He only wants to meet me." She shrugged. "I have questions that I'm pretty sure only he can answer, so… I'm going."

"That sounds like a statement, but since you called me, I'm pretty sure it's actually a question…"

Malia sighed. "I just need you to tell me this is the right thing to do."

A strangled noise left Stiles' throat. "Why would I do that? Derek Hale is an unreliable source that I'm pretty sure has the canine version of anti-social personality disorder. Or maybe just rabies. Can werewolves get rabies?"

"Stiles, be serious. I know you don't like him—"

"He's a dick!"

"—but I also think you know he's not the real enemy here."

"I don't know… I'm personally of the view that we can have multiple enemies on varying levels."

Malia cracked a smile. "Maybe. But do you really think Derek is one?"

"Depends on the day." He sighed. "Look, Malia, you obviously see something redeeming in him that I'm not privy to. I don't get it and I don't entirely support it, but… I trust you. And if you think you can find whatever answers you're looking for by talking to him then… do it. Just, keep your phone on and text me frequent updates on your status. You know, so I'm not back here freaking the hell out."

"Okay. I will."

"And I want an update as soon as you get home, too."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine." In the distance, Malia could hear a car approaching. It ran much smoother than her dad's truck, so she could only assume it was Derek. It looked like he was early. "I think he's here. I'll text you in a bit."

"Okay. Stay safe."

"Uh-huh." She paused. "Thanks, Stiles."

"For what?"

"You know… supporting me… or whatever."

"Whoa. Hey. Don't get too sentimental on me."

She snorted. "Shut up. You know what I mean."

She could practically hear him smiling through the phone. "Things are totally crazy lately, but one thing that isn't going to change is us. I'm always going to be your best friend."

"Yeah, I know." With that, Malia said a quick goodbye, throwing out another 'uh-huh' when he again said to keep him updated.

Hanging up, she left her room and crossed the house to the front door. Derek's familiar car idled in the driveway. Taking a deep breath, Malia stepped onto her porch and pulled the door closed behind her. She walked forward, hoping that when she returned, she would have the answers she needed and, frankly, deserved.

tbc

author's note: i know, i'm the woooorst. this update took so much longer than expected. i hit a massive writer's block and then, even after i finished it, i'd re-read it so many times that it was physically draining trying to re-read and edit it. but, i finally got it done. if you spot any mistakes, let me know and i'll fix them. i also had to cut out a few expected scenes, like malia's curious dream, which will be moved to the next chapter, because i actually expected to get to derek and malia's reunion this chapter, and we didn't even get there. that's also been moved to next chapter. malia and scott just kind of dominated the entire first half of this chapter and i can't even feel bad about it. i liked giving them a chance to explore their abilities and to bond with just each other. that said, i feel a little bad allison and stiles were so absent. next chapter will delve into the party, so there'll be more of the larger cast there— allison, lydia, danny, stiles, etc.

for anybody wondering about scott's reticence to properly fight with malia, he will get over this, but i think it's hard for him to step out of the zone of feeling like he can't completely control his body and he's worried about what it'll do. while he trusts that he would never purposely hurt her, he doesn't quite trust his abilities yet. but he's going to have to change and adapt and we do see that there are moments when they're training where he's seeing more positives in what they're learning and how they can work together.

again, this felt a lot like a filler chapter. next chapter, depending on the length, should start bleeding at least somewhat into the next episode.

i hope you liked it! i'm going to try and get the next update written up a whole lot quicker! just a head's up, i am behind on answering comments, but i do plan to work on answering them over the next few days. all feedback is so very appreciated!

things to look forward to next chapter: malia asks the hard questions; malia has a curious dream; malia/lydia/allison friendship; the full moon's effects are being felt early; and jealousy rears its furry head. ;)

thanks for reading. please try to leave a review!
- Lee | Fina