word count: 11,996
polyvore: username is 'sarcasticfina' - check under Collections for one named after this story to see all of Malia's fashion choices
episodes: 1x08 - lunatic

XXIV.

Allison was a life saver. She somehow managed to distract Lydia for the entire drive back to Malia's house. Any time it seemed like Lydia was going to jump on the subject of Malia and Scott, Allison was quick to offer something else to talk about, sometimes even just turning the music up on the radio to drown Lydia out. Malia was beyond grateful. Even if, she could admit, there was a small part of her that wanted to talk about what had happened. To get some feedback on the strange and not entirely unwelcome bathroom encounter that she was still turning over in her head, forty minutes later. But, how was she supposed to explain it to them? How could she tell them what happened without adding the part where she was pretty sure Scott's behaviour was based on a not-so-distant full moon?

By the time they reached her house, Malia was frustrated, more with herself than anything. Tonight was supposed to be a good time, a chance to blow off some steam. Instead, she was arriving home feeling even more stressed than before.

Walking ahead, Malia vaguely heard them talking behind her as she crossed the driveway and climbed the porch stairs. She pulled her keys out and unlocked the front door. Her dad's truck was in the driveway, but she couldn't hear him moving around inside. Letting the door swing wide, she kicked her shoes off and took a look around. No beer cans or bottles to be seen. The house seemed kind of spotless. The throw blanket was in a pile on the couch and there was a coffee cup and spoon in the sink, but it was otherwise clean. Figuring Henry had gone to bed, Malia turned to her guests. "You guys want something to drink or...?"

"Some water would be great," Allison agreed, nodding. The last one in, she shrugged her coat off and closed the door, locking it behind her.

Grabbing them each a bottle of water from the fridge, Malia motioned toward her bedroom and started walking. Passing by her dad's bedroom, she tried to stretch her hearing out and caught the sound of his nasally snoring from inside. While a part of her was unwilling to get too attached to the new, sober version of her dad, another part couldn't help but be relieved he'd made it another night.

Shiloh perked up as the girls walked into Malia's bedroom. One of her ears was flipped inside out and she turned sleepy but excited eyes on them, her tail thumping on the floor.

Lydia's eyes lit up, even as she kept her expression neutral. She crouched down next to Shiloh's bed, petting her stomach as Shiloh rolled over for attention.

While Lydia was appropriately distracted, Malia made her way to her dresser, grabbing Allison's arm and drawing her over with her.

Malia focused on digging around for a pair of pajamas, but whispered quietly, "What are the chances she falls for a sudden narcolepsy problem? I can fake falling asleep and totally avoid this whole thing."

Allison's mouth inched up, amused. "Slim to none. I think she was mostly humoring me while I was distracting her in the car." She stared at Malia searchingly. "Would it really be so bad?"

"I wouldn't put torture techniques past her, so yes, it would be bad. She might waterboard me if I don't say what she wants to hear."

"What do you think she wants to hear?"

"I don't know." Malia shrugged and dropped a tank top and a pair of shorts on top of her dresser. "Why does she even care what happened?"

"Did something happen?"

Malia chewed her lip. "Kind of... Sort of... But, not really."

Allison rolled her eyes. "Seriously?"

Malia sighed. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth."

Lydia cleared her throat then, drawing their attention. "The suspicious whispering is a dead giveaway. Don't think I forgot about your and McCall's little tête-à-tête in the bathroom." She waved her hand. "But after. I want to change, wash my make-up off, and set my hair. Then you can fill us in." With that, she marched toward the bathroom, picking up her bag along the way.

Malia watched her go and then turned a look on Allison. "She's gonna be at least a half hour. That's plenty of time to fall asleep."

Allison snorted. "Please. Like she wouldn't just wake you up."

Frowning, a disgruntled Malia grabbed up her pile of clothes and dropped them on the bed. "Good point."

Walking to her own bag, Allison started digging around inside for her pajamas. "You only have to share what you want to. The rest is personal." After scraping her hair up into a ponytail, Allison shrugged. "I just think it might be good for you."

Malia traded her silky party top in for a muted grey tank top and her black denim shorts for a pair of loose blue pajama shorts. She chewed her lip, wondering if a subject change at this point was possible. She tossed her clothes in the laundry basket and then sighed. "What might be good for me?"

"Talking about it."

Malia frowned. "About what?"

Allison had her back to Malia as she changed. Without missing a beat, she said quite simply, "That you're in love with Scott."

Malia coughed, choking on her own spit for a second. "I— What?"

Allison turned her head to pin Malia with a knowing look, her hands smoothing out her shirt. "I'm not an idiot."

Malia swore her heart sunk down into her stomach. For a moment, all she could think was that Allison must feel betrayed. After all, Allison dated Scott, they were a thing, and Malia was clearly overstepping some kind of boundary here. Right? It didn't matter that Malia had liked him first, because nothing had ever come of that. "Allison... I—"

"It's okay." At Malia's unconvinced expression, Allison laughed lightly. "Really. Scott and I weren't anything. We were just getting started and I don't think either of us were all that invested. I mean... I hope we'll be friends, someday. I really do like him. But, not the way you do." Pulling on a pair of pajama pants, Allison fiddled with the drawstring and turned to properly face Malia. "I just wish you'd told me. I know I ran your dog over the first time Scott asked me out, but if I'd known... I don't know. I feel like when we met, I knew we were going to be friends. Or maybe I just really wanted us to be. And Scott's cute, but he's not worth losing a friendship over."

Malia let out a sigh of relief. "Okay. Yeah. I just... I don't now. I barely admitted it to myself, I don't think I was ready to admit it to anyone else. Except maybe Stiles, and even he had to really push me to get the words out."

Allison's brows raised. "But you do?"

"I mean... yeah. Scott is... He's my best friend. He's..." Malia shook her head. "It's hard to explain and I don't know if I really want to get into it right now. But..." Her mouth inched up in a smile. "He makes me happy."

Allison smiled so wide, her dimples were unreal. "Okay, so... What's holding you back?"

Malia frowned. "He doesn't feel the same way. And I get it. He's known me since I was a buck-toothed, jerky 10-year-old."

Allison's brow furrowed. "Wait. You think Scott doesn't have feelings for you?"

"I—"

The bathroom door swung open and Lydia appeared, her face a little pink and bereft of make-up. Her hair was rolled and wrapped and she was rubbing lotion into her hands when she smiled at them. "Don't look so surprised. I have this down to an art. And you better not have started girl talk without me." She rolled her eyes. "Sleepover rules strictly state that we should all be involved, so no more canoodling between just you two." Flipping the bathroom light off, she made her way to the bed and took a seat on the edge, folding one leg under her while the other dangled over the edge. "So... What are we talking about?"

Malia blinked. "Uh..."

"Malia doesn't think Scott likes her."

Whipping around, Malia glared at Allison.

"Sleepover rules," Allison defended with a shrug. She made her way to Malia's bed and took a seat at the top of it, her back pressed to the headboard. Scooping up a pillow, she hugged it to herself. "Come on, it's just us. You might as well tell us what happened."

Hands on her hips, Malia chewed the inside of her cheek and weighed her options. Either she talked to them and got some insight and feedback, or she went to bed and spent the whole night second-guessing everything she did and said that might've led to her and Scott's... confusing encounter. After a beat, she walked to the bed and took a seat with them, folding her legs under her and drumming her fingers against her knees. "All right, fine."

"Tell us everything," Lydia demanded. "Leave nothing out."

Malia looked back and forth between them before shrugging. "Fine. Scott showed up at the party and he... wasn't feeling great. Stiles said he'd been out of it for a while, so I tried talking to him and..." He was non-verbal, unfocused, and clearly struggling. But she had no idea what caused it or how to make it better. "I think he was just overwhelmed with the noise and so many people... I get like that sometimes, too. It's like a panic attack. So, I asked him what I could do to help and..." And he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his arms banding around her waist. She was startled, but there was something else, too. Something reassuring about the fact that he was reaching out, that he was taking comfort in her instead of running away or struggling on his own. "I tried to talk him through it, but sticking around didn't seem like a smart idea. So, I told him I was going to let Danny know I was leaving and find Stiles and we could go outside, somewhere quiet, just give him some time to adjust—"

"Wait, wait, wait. You're leaving a part out," Lydia interrupted.

Malia frowned.

"I was there." Lydia's brows hiked knowingly. "There was a very public hug or cuddle or whatever you want to call it that you two were doing."

Malia sighed. "Okay, so... We also hugged. But we hug a lot. It's not a big deal."

Lydia snorted.

"Now what?"

Allison looked between them. "I think what Lydia is trying to say is that maybe this hug seemed a little more... intimate than most."

Malia shrugged. "It was just a hug. He was freaking out and he just needed it to stop for a minute, so he hugged me. It wasn't even that long, like a few minutes before I left to talk to Danny. But then I got back and Scott was missing and Cole said he was in the bathroom, so, I went after him..."

Allison looked concerned, her brow furrowed. "Was he okay?"

"Yawn." Lydia admired her nails. "Get to the good part, already."

Malia pursed her lips. "It was quieter in the bathroom, I thought it might help. But he..." He was frustrated, ready to pace right out of his skin. It was like that first night he shifted, when he was writhing around, struggling to breathe or think, desperate for it all to stop. "I don't know. But then he started saying something about Cole. That it looked like I was having fun, which was confusing. And then he started walking toward me and I felt like all the air was sucked out of the room. Not— Not in a bad way, exactly. I just... It was hard to breathe because he was so close and I—"

"Was turned on," Lydia snarked knowingly.

Malia ignored her. Instead, she licked her lips and said, "He almost kissed me."

Allison's voice was much gentler. "Almost?"

"Well, he..." Malia's hand raised and her fingers found her collar bone. "His mouth brushed my neck and my cheek and... and I thought... I mean, I felt... It felt like he was right there. And his hand was under my shirt and his fingers were so... soft on my back. And his chest, I— I could feel his heart beating against mine so fast. And—" She swallowed. "I closed my eyes. I don't know why. It just kind of happened. And I thought I felt his lips brush against mine, but then there was this... This knock at the door and I— I woke up. You know? And I left, I kind of ran out the door, and he was there, right behind me, and then I was telling Stiles to take him home, and I just... I felt like such an idiot, because he was..." She shook her head. "I knew he was freaking out and he wasn't feeling okay and I just feel like I took advantage of that. He stopped me before he left and he said he was sorry and he just looked so guilty and I hate that. Because he didn't do anything wrong. I did. I knew he wasn't thinking straight and I basically ignored that because he was finally right there. Which is totally selfish and stupid and—" She stopped abruptly when she looked up to see both girls staring at her, wide-eyed. "What?" she muttered defensively.

"I'm sorry, can we go back to that semi-erotic description of Scott McCall going Harlequin?" Lydia asked.

Malia's gaze flattened. "Shut up."

"Actually," Allison cleared her throat. "Lydia's not wrong."

"Huh?"

"I just mean... I know Scott was having a freak out beforehand, but... It sounds like he was pretty focused when it was happening." Allison's brows arched. "The way you explain it with the lead-up, kissing your neck and your cheek and the way he was touching you, that all sounds pretty purposeful to me. It's not like you made the first move—"

"No, but I should've stopped him or said something." Malia shook her head. "I mean, he wasn't thinking straight."

"I'm pretty sure he wasn't thinking at all," Lydia muttered. At their frowns, she clarified, "Even nice boys can get caught up in the moment."

Malia shook her head. "You don't know Scott. You don't know our history. And..." She sighed. "It's hard to explain. I just... I feel like the timing and what happened, it just wasn't supposed to go that way."

"So, maybe next time you're more intentional about it," Allison suggested. "And maybe it doesn't happen in some strange bathroom while a whole party of people are hanging around outside. Just, make it more personal and go for it."

"You make it sound way too easy."

"Or maybe you just make it sound way too hard." Lydia waved dismissively. "Look, you like him, don't you?"

She frowned, but eventually nodded.

"So, you can either spend way too much time wondering 'what if' or you can do something about it."

"What if it blows up in my face?"

"Better to know now than spend years thinking it could be something it isn't." Lydia stared at her searchingly. "He's a good guy, right? So, the window of opportunity is only open for so long. If it's not you, it'll be someone else. You really want to watch that happen?"

Malia's gaze skirted toward Allison, who grinned. "Hey!" Reaching over, she shoved at Malia's shoulder jokingly. "In my defense, I asked you if it was okay to date him and you said yes."

"Yeah, well, I'm obviously a masochist."

"Hardly," Lydia muttered. "You're just a coward."

Malia scoffed. "That's definitely worse, and also no, I'm not."

Lydia stared at her. "Prove it then. Ask him out. Or kiss him. He'll get the message either way."

"Just like that?"

"You've wasted enough time already, don't you think?"

Malia sighed. "Maybe."

"Great! Now that your drama is out of the way, we can talk about something more interesting. Like that night at the school."

Malia glanced at Allison, who looked surprised.

"You... really want to talk about it?" Allison wondered. "Because you've mostly been avoiding it when I try to bring it up."

"I've had some time to think about it and I think we should just air things out." Lydia waved a nail file around. "We were attacked, chased, locked in a classroom to fend for ourselves—"

"That's not exactly what—"

"—and the police are being weird and secretive about it. Derek Hale is on the run for turning into some kind of mass murderer. And anytime I bring it up to Jackson, he gets weird and defensive and tells me to leave it alone." Lydia turned sharp eyes on them. "Look, we all have our traumas. Some of us played tag with a killer and went missing for hours on end after the whole thing was over—"

Malia flinched.

"—others were left hoping the police would actually do their jobs while some nameless, faceless freak was killing janitors and librarians. But one thing I know for sure is that we are protected by the fact that we are minors. Which means that none of the papers or the news can name us as the victims. Which also means... that when we get back to school on Monday, we are just normal, regular students who have no additional baggage. And I want it to stay that way."

"Do you?" Allison stared at her curiously. "Because it sounds a lot like you've got some issues you want to work out…"

"All things a little shopping therapy will cure." Lydia grinned, but it was sharp and fake. "That, and skating. Which I want to be up bright and early for." She turned to Malia then. "Your dad offered to make breakfast, right? I have a strict morning routine that involves eggs."

Malia blinked. "Uh, yeah. I mentioned that to him. I'm sure you'll have all the eggs you could eat. We're kind of stocked up on everything right now. Maybe even over-stocked. There's like six boxes of cereal in the pantry."

Allison half-smiled. "How's that going anyway?"

"Uh, good." Malia glanced at Lydia, who was back to filing her nails.

Catching on, Allison nodded, and mouthed 'talk later' back to her.

Relieved, Malia offered a topic change— "So, Lydia, what are you wearing to the rink tomorrow?"

Fashion was not anywhere near Malia's favorite subject, but it did mean that Lydia would be entirely distracted and would hopefully leave the topic of Scott and the school attack alone.

…

It was late and Lydia was fast asleep, wearing a nose strip to help with breathing and a pink frilly mask over her eyes. She had opted for the blow-up mattress on the floor, Shiloh tucked under her arm, while Allison was sharing Malia's bed.

Allison turned onto her side, a hand tucked under her cheek, and stared at Malia through muted blue darkness. "So... your dad?"

"Is sober. For now, at least." Malia turned over to face her better. "He's going to AA meetings and looking for a sponsor and trying to be a mega-dad, I guess."

"Mega-dad?"

Malia's mouth screwed up in a frown. "It's like he's trying to make up for everything by being extra perfect now. He's cleaning the house and we have more groceries than we can probably eat. He's just turned the dad-ness up to eleven."

"Is that the worst thing? Better to have more food than none, right? And maybe it's weird, having him around more, but you were lonely before. Stuck out here with nobody around... It had to be hard."

"Yeah. I just..." She ground her teeth. "I feel like there should be a medium. Like Melissa or Sheriff Stilinski. They're around, they care, but it's not a performance. It's not a routine where they have to make up for all the mistakes they made."

"Maybe he just needs some time to settle in. Or maybe he's not sure what kind of dad you need him to be."

Malia hummed. "What if he can't be the dad I need him to be?"

"There's only one way to find out."

She sighed. "Everybody keeps telling me to talk to him, like that's so easy, but... We don't talk. Not really. And now it's like walking on egg shells."

"I'm not sure it'll get better if you don't say something… Maybe you could write it in a letter or something. Would that work?"

"Maybe." She shrugged. "I'll figure it out."

Allison stared at her a beat. "My dad's been acting weird, too."

Malia went very still. Curious but cautious, she said, "Yeah? How?"

"I don't know, just secretive and stuff. Ever since the school attack, it just feels like he knows something and he's not telling me. And I think my Aunt knows what it is. I see them around the house sometimes, talking intensely. But then when I get close, they change and act like everything's normal. It's just weird, you know? It feels suspicious."

Malia hummed. "What do you think it means?"

Allison sighed, her eyebrows arched. "I don't know. I mean, what could they possibly know about what happened? Maybe I'm just being paranoid... The attack was weird and now I'm freaking out, questioning everything around me."

"Maybe." That one word tasted like ash in Malia's mouth, which was a motivator for what she said next. "Or maybe your instincts are kicking in."

Allison half-smiled, confused. "And my instincts are saying to keep an eye on my dad?"

"Or just to be careful... Sometimes the people we trust most can still hurt us or lie to us or... keep things from us that they shouldn't."

"Yeah." Allison rolled onto her back and stacked her hands on her stomach. "Maybe it's better not to know then. Ignorance is bliss, right?"

"Maybe." Malia rolled over, too. "But you can't prepare for what you don't know."

Allison looked at her a beat. "What happened in the school, if it was Derek or someone else... I hated every minute of it. I hated being scared and not knowing what was coming or what they wanted. And I hated that I couldn't protect myself or you or anyone..."

Malia nodded. "Me, too."

"I don't want to be that kind of person."

"What kind of person?"

Allison's lips twisted up and she blinked quick against tears; Malia could smell the salt in them. "Weak."

Reaching out, Malia found one of Allison's hands and folded it in her own. "I don't think you are."

"Maybe not. But... I think I want to do something. I don't know what yet. Just... something. I want to know that if it ever happens again, I can defend myself."

Malia nodded, but those words felt heavy. And knowing what she did about the Argent family, Malia wondered if this wasn't just a catalyst for the future. For another hunter in the making.

She squeezed Allison's hand a little tighter and hoped she was wrong.

…

Come morning, Malia was still rubbing crust from her eyes when she stumbled into the living room with a perky Lydia and a yawning Allison, only to find Henry wiping his hands on a dish towel, the kitchen table dressed in a breakfast feast.

Henry grinned at them rather proudly. "Morning girls. Breakfast is ready." He nodded his chin toward the table. "Poached, scrambled, and over-easy. Malia never said how you wanted them, so I figured I'd give you a few options to pick from."

Malia held her breath, waiting for some snarky jab to leave Lydia's perfectly painted pink lips. Instead, Lydia grinned and flounced toward the table. "Thank you, Mr. Tate. I think I'll have the scrambled."

Malia and Allison exchanged a surprised look and then shrugged. They joined Lydia at the table and divvied up the rest of the eggs between them, grabbing a couple slices of toast along the way.

Before Malia could ask, a jar of honey was put on the table next to her. Henry tapped the lid. "I, uh, I was thinking about it yesterday and I remembered Kylie was the one that liked jam. You were always partial to honey."

Malia felt a tug in her chest. "Thanks."

Henry nodded, half-smiling down at her. Then, he took a deep breath, tucked his hands in his jean pockets, and stepped back from the table. "Well, you girls enjoy your breakfast. I've got a meeting I need to get to. I hear you're going skating, too. So, have fun."

"Have a good meeting," Malia said through a mouthful of egg. She watched him walk out the door and make his way to his truck before turning back around.

Allison had scooped her eggs onto her toast and was taking a bite off the corner. Meanwhile, Lydia had found Henry's discarded newspaper. She had it open to the crossword puzzle and was already twirling a pen around in her hand.

Malia stared at her a beat before saying, "Pass me the comics."

After filling in six across, Lydia flipped through to the comics, pulled the sheet out and passed them over.

Malia laid them out on her right, angled between her and Allison.

Grinning, Allison leaned over so she could read them, too.

All in all, Malia thought, not a bad way to start her day.

...

After a quick stop at Lydia's to pick up her favorite skating gloves (because apparently those were a thing), the girls made the trip out to the ice rink. While Allison and Lydia walked ahead, Malia stopped at the rental booth. Tapping the bell for service, she rested an elbow on the counter and stared down the hall to the open doors of the rink. She could see Allison and Lydia sitting on a bench as they traded out their regular shoes for their skates. Malia's hearing broadened; the could hear the crackle of the radio, the scrape of metal on ice, and finally, two familiar voices…

"—third time I've texted Jackson and still no response."

"Have you tried not texting him? Maybe silence is the best way to go."

"Jackson takes silence as winning." Lydia scoffed. "If I don't make it clear I'm unhappy, he assumes I've given up."

"Why does everything you guys do sound like some kind of competition?"

"Because it is one, and if I want to stay on top, then I have to keep the upper hand."

"By texting him repeatedly? Doesn't that sound a bit like he's the one in control?"

Lydia went quiet for a moment.

"Lyd... I'm just saying. I know you're worried because he's been acting a little off lately—"

"Not off. Distant. That's not a good sign. Okay? Me and Jackson are a team. We always have been. Until all of this happened. Until McCall made first line and then the cougar and the school attack and it's just too much. This is not how we're supposed to be spending our time. Everything was going perfectly. But now it's changed, and I don't know where I stand anymore. The one thing I've always had is Jackson and my position on the social ladder. Those things go hand in hand. If I lose one—"

"If Jackson doesn't want to be with you because you're not popular, then he's an idiot." Quick to reassure, Allison teased, "And anyway, you don't need him to be popular. You're Lydia Martin, remember? You're kind of a big deal."

"That's sweet. Naïve, but sweet." With a sigh, Lydia stood. "I'll meet you on the ice."

A sudden and loud 'ding!' sung through Malia's ears. Smothering a wince, she turned around to see Boyd staring back at her, his hand poised over the service bell. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Let me guess..." His brows hiked. "Skates."

She snorted. "Only if you can spare a pair."

"I've seen you skate. We should start selling insurance plans."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. You know, I could be worse."

"You could be better, too." Boyd moved down an aisle. "Size eight?"

"Close. Seven and a half."

He dug through a few pairs, rejected them, and then came back with a pair of pristine white skates. "These are about as close to new as we get."

"You're not worried I'll ruin them?"

He started pulling them back across the counter.

With a laugh, Malia reached out. "Hey, no, I'll take care of them. Pinkie swear."

He released the skates. "Try not to break your neck."

Malia hooked her fingers around the laces and picked them up. "If I do, can I get a ride on the Zamboni?"

"What do you think?"

Malia sighed. Knocking a fist against the counter, she backed up and pointed at him. "I'll convince you one day."

His mouth inched up faintly. "We'll see."

With a grin, she turned on her heel and made her way to the rink.

Inside, Allison was waiting for her, thumbing out a text on her phone. She looked up as Malia plopped down beside her. "Hey. Nice skates."

"Thanks. I have an in with the Zamboni guy."

Allison snorted. "You would."

Kicking off her boots, Malia started loosening the laces on the skates.

Allison grabbed one up to help her. "So, what're you doing this afternoon?"

"Uh, after skating I have a thing... with my cousin." She dropped her gaze to the floor as she pulled one skate on and started lacing it back up. "What about you?"

"Lydia wants to go shopping, but Kate's been texting me. She wants to meet up." Allison chewed her lip. "Kate studied martial arts when she was growing up. She's kind of a badass… I was thinking I might talk to her, ask her to teach me some things." She rolled her eyes. "I probably won't need it and I doubt we're going to run into another serial killer any time soon, but... I don't know. Peace of mind or something, right?"

Malia thought about it. She was doing the same thing, wasn't she? Meeting up with Derek to make sure she was able to defend herself and fight the Alpha. Could she really convince Allison not to do the same? Even if it was Kate, even if it was some junior version of hunting, shouldn't Allison be able to fight, too? Allison wasn't just randomly stuck in that school; the Alpha purposely texted her to lure her there. Which meant that Allison's life was in danger, and maybe Malia or Scott or Allison's dad wouldn't be there to help her next time.

Sitting up, hands braced on her thighs, Malia turned to Allison. "I think you should."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's like you said, you felt scared and weak and you hated it. I know what that feels like." She nodded. "Look, I... I know some self defense, too. So, if Kate won't, then we should figure it out together. I can show you what I know or we can take a class or whatever you want, but we should do something. So even if there isn't a next time, we know we're prepared just in case."

Allison beamed. "Okay. Yeah. That'd be great."

"Cool." Malia reached over and snagged the other skate from Allison's hands. "Also, remember that I can kick ass when I'm falling on mine on the ice."

Giggling, Allison nodded. "I will."

…

Malia was starting to get the hang of this skating thing. At least enough that she didn't need to cling to Allison the whole time. She still felt like a foal on unsteady legs, but she was making progress. Her feet sometimes got ahead of her, but she was learning how to balance her core and had even picked up enough speed to pass a toddler who had clearly come out of the womb wearing skates. It was a bit disheartening just how much better she was than Malia. Not nearly as good as Lydia, though. Lydia moved around the ice like a dancer, effortlessly gliding around the rink and putting everyone else to shame with her spins and twirls.

After an hour, Malia spotted Allison leaving the ice to take a seat on the benches. Wobbling her way over, she joined her. "Hey… Tell me you're getting tired so I won't look like a wuss when I say my legs feel like overcooked pasta noodles."

Allison snorted. "A little tired, yeah." She patted the bench next to her and then raised her phone. "My dad keeps texting. I get that he's worried, but it's starting to feel a little overprotective."

Malia bent to loosen her skates and kicked them off to lay in a heap in front of her. She wiggled her toes inside her too-warm wool socks and wondered how many looks she'd get if she shed her socks, too. "Does he just want to know where you are?"

"Yeah. At first it was every few hours, then every hour, now it feels like it's every fifteen minutes." She rolled her eyes. "I thought he'd be cool about it. He seemed pretty open to me staying at your house. But, I don't know. It kind of feels like I'm grounded— limited access to everything and everyone."

"You think he'll leave you alone when you're hanging out with Kate?"

"Maybe." Allison shrugged. "I hope so. That might be part of why I want to see her. I just don't like being under someone's thumb, you know? I'm seventeen. I want some space to just… hang out and have a life."

"I get it." Malia nodded. "Maybe he'll be better about it if you give him a time frame. Let him know you're meeting up with Kate at a certain time and he'll leave you alone for that long."

"Yeah. Maybe." She turned a frown down to her phone. "It just sucks that it's interrupting this. It was supposed to be fun. The party, the sleepover, skating. But now I just feel like he's right there, waiting for something to happen. It kind of freaks me out. Like I should be worried, too." Her nose scrunched up. "Anyway, this is so depressing and not at all what I want to be doing…"

"You wanna get back on the ice?"

Allison raised an eyebrow, half-smiling. "Do you?"

"I'm kind of overheated." Malia unzipped her jacket. "It takes a lot more energy to move around when you suck at skating."

"You don't suck. You're just… learning."

Malia snorted. "Yeah, that's a nice way to say I suck." She unraveled her scarf and dug her fingers around in the fabric for her necklace so it wouldn't get tangled when she tried to pull her scarf off. All of her digging came up empty, however, and Malia felt her heart drop into her stomach. She carefully pulled her scarf off and probed her neck and underneath her shirt, but the familiar locket was missing. She smoothed out her scarf to see if maybe it had gotten caught in it, but it wasn't there either. Malia's heartrate picked up. She tried to think back to the last place she'd had it. Did she put it on this morning, before they left? Was she wearing it at the party? When she was jogging and training with Scott? Was she wearing it before bed, when she'd shifted in the middle of the night, and woke up naked in the woods? She was usually so good about taking it off and putting it away at night. But she couldn't remember. Things had been so hectic lately. Between the Alpha and finding out she was a shifter, it was all so jumbled in her head.

Malia stood from the bench abruptly, a shaky hand finding her chest.

"Malia?" Allison stood with her. "Hey, are you okay?"

"My necklace. I— I lost it. I don't… I can't… Where did I…?" She whirled around, eyes darting across the floor, searching for even the faintest glint of metal. Was she fooling herself? It could've been lost at any point in the last five or six days. It could be anywhere. Panic flared inside her. She could feel her nails lengthen into claws and folded her fingers into her palms.

She was freaking out. What if she shifted? Right here, in front of everyone. In front of Allison. Who yes, might be one of her best friends, but was also the daughter of a hunter. What if she attacked or hurt someone? What if she couldn't shift back? Malia had no answers to any of her questions and it only made her freak out worse.

Mumbling under her breath, Malia started pacing. She needed to calm down and breathe and get control of herself. Only she couldn't stop thinking about her necklace. It was Kylie's— the last piece of her Malia had left, and she'd lost it. It felt like a black hole had opened up in her chest and was slowly consuming her, bit by bit, eating away at her control. Her mind was flooded with fear and guilt and there was nothing to hold it back.

"Malia, listen, I— I'm going to call someone, okay?"

Shaking her head, Malia moved to the wall and braced her hands against it. She tried to breathe. To focus on something, anything. On her mother, dancing around the kitchen, singing Fleetwood Mac. (She is like a cat in the dark and then she is the darkness…) On the first day she got Shiloh, just a bright, blue-eyed puppy, eager to love and be loved. On Kylie, trailing right behind her as they raced through the woods. On Stiles and his too-big tie and his fist full of flowers, standing at his mother's grave. But every time Malia would start to feel some semblance of control, another thought would fill her head.

Her dream.

The SUV with its shattered and blown-out windows, a doll drenched in blood, and a scream caught in her throat.

Kylie was dead.

Dead, dead, dead.

And the only thing Malia had to honor her, she'd lost. And what was worse was that she couldn't remember when or where or how. She'd just gone about her life, as if it never mattered.

"Uh… Is she okay?" Lydia wondered.

"I think she's having a panic attack.

Lydia hummed. "Crazy isn't a good look on anyone."

"Lydia," Allison snapped. "Now's not the time."

"Whatever. What are you doing to fix this? People are starting to stare."

Ignoring her, Allison muttered, "Pick up, pick up…"

…

"Come on... Just five minutes." Stiles pressed his hands together in a prayer gesture. "We go in, we catch their eye, we hang out, mingle, make them fall in love with our naturally infectious charm, you know, nothing big."

Scott shook his head. "No. Skating is their thing. Malia already said she doesn't want us showing up so you can try and get Lydia's attention."

"Hey, who said this was about Lydia? Huh? Maybe I'm trying to help you out. If you haven't noticed, you've been in a mood since last night. Actually, you've been on a roller coaster of a mood. When you're not gearing up to fight strangers in the woods, you're getting all soft and gooey over Malia."

Sighing, Scott slumped down into his seat. He buried a hand in his hair and glowered at the ice rink in the distance. "She's not gonna wanna see me. We should just go."

"Dude, as soon as she sees what you've got, you're going to be her favorite person… Which isn't all that new, actually. You already rank pretty high in general."

Scott ground his teeth together. "You didn't see her last night. She was scared of me."

"Malia?" Stiles snort-scoffed. "Yeah right."

"Stiles..."

"Dude, you've tracked her down in the woods, all furred out, and she never flinched."

"That's not true. That time, she cried and she was shaking... She was terrified." The memory of that, of the aftermath at least, still haunted him. The amount of fear Malia must have suffered to break down the way she had. And the amount of empathy she had to still invite him close, to hug him when he'd been so close to tearing her throat out, he could never forget that.

"Okay, maybe she was, but that's biology." Stiles waved dismissively. "Prey meets predator. She knew you'd snap out of it."

Closing his eyes, Scott rubbed his palm over his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "Look, last night, it was different. We were in the bathroom and it was like... I don't know, like a switch flipped and suddenly I wasn't scared and I wasn't unsure, I was just... focused. I don't know if it was Cole or the full moon or maybe both, but something in me just changed. It was like... I was there, I was aware of what I was doing, but it wasn't totally me. I— I wouldn't do that... at least not that way. Not like I was cornering her. I feel like a creep. And now I'm worried she thinks I am one."

"Well, what happened? Did you touch her? Kiss her?" Stiles stared at him, his brow furrowed. "Did you force her?"

"No. At least, I don't think I did. It was weird. It was like... At first, there was all this pressure and noise, and then she was there, and I was angry. Not at her, but at Cole and myself and..." He sighed. "I was jealous, I know that. The way Cole said it, that they were working things out, it just… I don't know, it didn't sit right with me. And a part of me just wanted to prove him wrong. It was like the wolf needed to prove something. And I… I wanted her. I mean, I always have, but this time it was like... I felt like she wanted me, too. Or maybe that was just what the wolf thought. I just remember that when I touched her, she was shaking, but it wasn't like in the woods. It was..." Frustrated, he scowled. "I can't explain it."

"Like she was attracted to you? Like maybe she wanted you to touch her…?"

"Yeah, but..." Scott's brow furrowed. "What if she was just doing what she had to because she knew the moon was affecting me? Like in the woods, when she didn't run away and she didn't fight, she just stood there and hoped I'd come around. She's always doing stuff like that. She trusts me too much."

"Maybe." Stiles shrugged. "Or maybe you're not giving her enough credit."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... Malia's smart. She knows what she wants and what she doesn't want. And she's strong. More now than ever. Maybe that feeling you were getting, that it was mutual, was real." Stiles tipped his head, his brows hiked. "Only way you're going to know is to ask."

Scott sighed. "I guess." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I just don't want her to hate me."

"Not sure that's possible." Stiles pulled the keys from the ignition and then turned a grin on Scott. "This means we're going inside, right?"

Scott chewed his lip. Before he could answer, however, his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He shifted his hips up to dig it out and turned it over. Seeing it was Allison, he paused. Thumbing the 'answer' button, he raised it to his ear hesitantly. "Uh, hi?"

"Hey! Listen, I— I need your help. Malia is freaking out. I think it's a panic attack. Something about her sister's necklace. It fell off, I think. I don't know what to do or how to help her and you were the first person I thought of who might, so—"

"It's okay. I'm outside the skating rink. That's where you guys are, right?"

"I— Yeah. Wait, you're just outside?"

"Uh, yeah. I'll explain later." He shouldered the door of the jeep open and hopped out. "I'm coming. Just try to keep her calm."

"Okay. Thanks."

Hanging up, Scott broke out into a run toward the rink, Stiles trailing behind him, shouting questions.

Scott made it through the building and to the seating area just outside the rink in record time. He could hear Malia's heart beating, loud and unsteady in his ears. Lydia, Allison, and a tall, vaguely familiar, boy were all crowded around her. Malia was faced away from them, her hands planted on the wall, her head bowed, hair falling to shroud her face. Her shoulders were hunched and everything about her body screamed tense. Allison stood just behind her, a hand on Malia's back, her voice calm and soothing.

"Hey."

Allison turned around and her expression melted with relief. "Everything was totally normal. We just got off the ice, she was warm so she took her jacket off, and suddenly she was freaking out."

"She kept talking about a necklace," Lydia said, her arms crossed tightly and her brow furrowed. "I didn't take her for a jewelry freak."

Scott sighed. He made his way over, nodding thankfully as Allison stepped back and away. "Lia..." His hand found her shoulder and squeezed gently. "Hey, can you hear me?"

"I lost it. It was the only thing I had. It was all I..." She hiccupped and he could feel her whole body shudder under his touch. Her voice went quiet, enough that nobody but him could probably hear her. "I can't b-breathe or think. I'm shifting, I can feel it. Scott, please, please don't let me turn completely."

"Okay. It's okay." His hand skimmed down her back and then he crouched down. He ducked under her arms so he was directly beneath her and tipped his head back so he could see her face. Fur had sprouted along her cheeks and from her eyebrows, her eyes had turned a vivid yellow, and he could see fangs poking out from behind her lips. "You didn't lose it. I know where it is."

Her brow furrowed. "What?"

He glanced quickly at the others; Allison seemed to be acting as a barrier to try and give them some space. Focusing on Malia, he said, "It fell off at the school. A link was broken, so I brought it to the mall to get it fixed. I didn't want to tell you because you hadn't noticed. I was just going to put it on your desk or something." He dug a hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled it out for her to see. "Stiles and I picked it up this morning."

A tear dripped down Malia's cheek and fell, landing on his own. "It's fixed?"

"Like new." He nodded. "Okay?"

Malia took a deep breath and let it out slowly through her nose. The fur slowly faded, a sign that she was calming down. "I forgot. I didn't even notice it was gone." She shook her head and her eyes seemed to flare a brighter yellow. "What kind of sister does that make me?"

"Hey, a lot's been going on. It's okay. It doesn't mean anything. You love Kylie. And this necklace, I mean, yeah, it's important, but... Even without it, that doesn't change how much you miss her or love her or how much she mattered to you."

Malia's mouth trembled. "Maybe," she whispered. "But it's the only thing I have. The only way I can keep her close."

"You didn't lose it. I should've told you when I found it." He stood up slowly, a hand finding her waist and tugging.

Malia stepped forward, so she was upright. Her hands stayed braced on the wall, bracketing Scott in.

He stared at her searchingly. "Can you breathe now?"

She took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly.

Reaching up, he cupped her cheek, rubbing away a tear with his thumb. "Okay?"

She nodded and let her eyes, now a familiar brown, fall closed.

And Scott remembered what Stiles said, what Scott himself had always thought— that Malia was a strong person. Maybe one of the strongest people Scott had ever known. But that didn't mean she didn't have her fragile moments. That she couldn't feel weak or scared or lost. The last month or so had emphasized that more than ever. And as much as Malia went out of her way to hold the rest of them up, Scott hoped he held her up even half as much.

Stepping closer, Scott pulled her into a hug, an arm wrapped low around her waist.

Malia sunk into it, burying her face against his shoulder, and her hands clung to his back, fingers digging in.

Ducking his head down, his mouth gently brushed her ear as he murmured, "You remember when we were thirteen and we snuck into our first 14A movie? Stiles wouldn't let us get popcorn because he thought they'd catch us and we'd get put on some list and never be allowed to come back."

She snorted a laugh and nodded.

"But you really wanted Junior Mints, so we promised if we got caught we wouldn't tell on him. And as soon as we left the theater we felt like they were all staring, so instead of going back in, we got your candy and then we went into the next closest theater, only it was playing Marley & Me."

Her shoulders shook as she laughed. "And I cried."

"You made me go get napkins because there was snot everywhere."

"Hey!"

He grinned, his hands rubbing circles over her back. "After, you just wanted to go home and see Shiloh. Stiles was still in the movie and we weren't getting picked up for a while, so I said I'd give you a ride back on my bike. Halfway there, I had an asthma attack."

She turned her head a little, mouth inched up in a smile. "We had to switch places and you kept making me stop so you could use your inhaler."

He nodded. "Yeah, but we got there. It took us a while, but we made it." Scott could feel the tension in her body bleeding away. Her shaking had ebbed and her heart had steadied. He brushed his fingers through her hair and down her neck, and when he was sure she was okay again, he leaned back. "Okay?

Malia looked up from sleepy, red-rimmed eyes. "Okay."

A slow smile turned his mouth up at either corner.

A flare of red filled her cheeks. "Well, that was embarrassing."

He shook his head. "I think you had a pretty good reason for it."

"Maybe."

He drew his hand up then and unfolded his fingers, showing her the necklace pooled in his palm. Carefully, he picked up the chain and held it out. When she nodded, he slipped it over her head. Malia caught the locket and readjusted it so it fell center against her chest. "There."

She smiled at him, relieved and content.

Impulsively, Scott leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

A beat passed before Allison cleared her throat and stepped closer, her arms wrapped around herself nervously. "So... You're okay?"

Scott leaned away, a hand still resting on Malia's shoulder.

Malia nodded at Allison, wincing awkwardly. "Sorry I freaked out."

"No. Don't even worry about it." Allison smiled reassuringly and then held her arms out, pulling Malia over for a hug of her own. "I'm just glad it worked out."

Sniffling, Malia rubbed at her nose and rolled her eyes. "I feel dumb. I know it's just a necklace—"

"But it was your sister's. I get it." Allison rubbed Malia's back soothingly and then stepped back. "I feel like maybe skating's done for the day, though. You look kind of exhausted."

Taking a deep breath, Malia nodded. "Yeah. I, uh, I should meet up with my cousin soon anyway."

Cousin? Scott exchanged a look with Stiles, who shrugged.

"Sorry I ruined skating and can never show my face here again."

The tall boy snorted. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were playing the sympathy card to get a ride on the Zamboni."

Malia turned a half-grin on him. "Would it work?"

He stared at her a moment and then shrugged. "Maybe a little." He grabbed up a stray First Aid kit then and motioned over his shoulder with his thumb. "I should get back to the desk. Make sure you drop your skates off before you head out."

Malia saluted him.

Rolling his eyes, he smiled faintly, and left.

"Who is he again?" Allison wondered.

"Boyd," Malia answered. "He goes to our school."

"Really? I don't recognize him."

Malia shrugged. "He blends in sometimes." Turning to Stiles then, she said, "Can you give me a ride home?"

"Yeah, for sure." He juggled his keys around. "Right now?"

Malia nodded. "Yeah. I'm ready to get out of here." Taking a seat on the bench to pull on her boots, she glanced up at Allison. "I'll text you later, okay?"

"Sure. Let me know how you're feeling."

"Okay." Malia stood, half-smiling at Scott when he scooped up her jacket and held it out for her to slip her arms through the sleeves. With a wave, she said, "See you guys tomorrow."

Allison waved back, but it was Lydia, standing just off to the side, her arms crossed loosely and her brow furrowed, that caught Scott's attention. She had been uncharacteristically quiet from the moment Scott got there. He couldn't help but wonder what had her so deep in her head. He'd expected her usual caustic sense of humor, but instead she'd distanced herself and shut down. Shaking off his curiosity, he followed Malia out, Stiles beside her.

"So... You're okay?" Stiles tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants and eyed Malia curiously.

"Yeah. It was mostly just a panic attack."

"Right, but those come with an extra helping of fur these days, so..." He quickly looked around to make sure no one was listening. "You were shifting, right? You're sure nobody saw something? A flash of yellow eyes or fangs or claws?"

"I don't think so. But I wasn't paying a lot of attention to anyone else. Why? You think they did?"

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know. I just think we need to be on our toes."

Scott frowned. "Stiles is right. We have to be careful. I mean, we can't really plan for panic attacks, but we need to work on controlling it. Especially now, so close to the moon. I think it's affecting things, like how we feel and what we're doing about it."

"How we feel?" Malia repeated.

"Yeah, like, feelings are more intense than usual. Anger becomes rage and worry becomes a full panic attack." Scott nodded. "That's how it was last night, too. I didn't feel like myself. Instead, I felt like everything was on eleven. You know?"

Malia's gaze darted away and she nodded faintly. "Yeah." Clearing her throat, she broke away from them then. "I have to drop off my skates. I'll meet you at the jeep."

"Oh, uh… okay." Scott's steps stuttered, but eventually evened out. He glanced back at her as she made her way to the desk, half-smiling at Boyd. A pit opened up in his stomach and he turned away. That tension was creeping up on him again, the scratching irritation and targeted pressure that made him feel like his skin was too tight.

"Are you okay?" Stiles wondered.

"What? Yeah." Scott blinked and shook his head. "Just feel weird."

Stiles stared at him a beat and then nodded. "Malia's going to be okay. It's probably like what you said. The full moon is just making you guys act weird."

"Yeah, probably." He sighed. "But what do I do about it? How do I make it better?"

"Honestly... I have no idea."

…

Malia half-smiled as she placed the skates on top of the counter. "I know I joke about it a lot, but there's really no pressure around the Zamboni thing. I mean, I think it's cool, but I don't want to get you in trouble or something."

Boyd shrugged. "It's fine. It took some convincing to get my boss to let me do it, so I try not to fool around with it much." He looked her over curiously. "You're really okay? That was a pretty intense panic attack."

"Yeah. I'm fine." She waved dismissively and chewed her lip. "My, uh, my sister died six years ago. And... It was her necklace. So, I wear it and it makes me feel like, I don't know, she's with me or something. I know that's cheesy and dramatic, but..." She shrugged. "I guess when I thought it was gone that I'd betrayed her somehow."

Boyd stared at her a long moment. "I get it."

A lot of people had told Malia in the past that they 'got it,' but she'd never quite believed them. Stiles understood what it was like to lose a parent, but a sibling was different. Kylie had been her shadow, her best friend, her partner in crime. That absence was hard to understand or replicate. But maybe for the first time, looking at Boyd, she thought someone did get it.

"Anyway, sorry I freaked you out enough to grab the First Aid kit."

"It's cool. It's a good thing McCall showed up when he did."

"Yeah." She rolled her eyes. "He's had a front row seat to a few of my panic attacks. Which makes me sound like a basket case or something. They don't happen a lot a lot, just… more often than I want."

Boyd nodded. "My mom used to have panic attacks when I was a kid. Didn't let me out of her sight much." He paused. "For a long time, I thought if I just stayed with her, she wouldn't have to suffer. If she could see me, they wouldn't hurt her anymore."

"Did it work?"

He shook his head faintly. "I don't think things like that always make sense. She'd still find something to worry about and it'd still hurt her."

"So, what happened?"

"She got help." He shrugged. "Joined a group, took some meds, figured it out."

"How is she now?"

"Better, but not cured."

Malia hummed. "Emotional scars are weird. Grief sucks, but it's also weirdly comforting. Like as long as you miss them, you kind of feel like you still have them."

"Yeah." Boyd's brow furrowed. "Hard to live your life when you're stuck in your guilt though."

She swallowed tightly. "Yeah, it is."

They stared at each other a long, heavy moment. They didn't know each other well. The breadth of their association could be accounted for in a few brief interactions. But, whatever dim attempt at a connection created before felt strengthened now. An understanding that few people could grasp. And then Malia looked away. Clearing her throat, she attempted a smile. "Anyway, I should go. Thanks for the good skates."

Boyd nodded. "See you around."

"See ya."

Malia turned on her heel and left then, hands tucked deep in the pockets of her jacket. She left the rink and made her way across the parking lot, to where the jeep was idling. She climbed into the back seat and pulled the door shut with a creak.

"So, what's this about a cousin?" Stiles wondered, turning around in his seat to see her, his brow puckered.

"Derek," she explained. "I thought Allison wanted to hang out and I needed an excuse. A while ago, Cole kind of met Derek and I said he was my cousin Miguel. It's a little easier to remember a lie if I use it enough. Anyway, I'm meeting up with him. So, if you could drop me off at home, that'd be great."

"Meeting up with him for what? Why?"

Malia rolled her eyes. "Does it matter?"

Stiles pursed his lips and put the jeep in drive. "A little. Yeah."

"We're going to train together." She sat back and shrugged. "He said he'd teach me what he knew."

"And you… trust him to do that?" Stiles looked from the road to her to Scott. "I mean, I thought we were doing a Rocky-style training montage together. As a group."

"We are. But, he offered, and it can't hurt to find out what else he knows."

"Right." Stiles' expression was still dubious, however. "He's not pissed the police are after him?"

"He's definitely pissed, he's just not blaming me." Malia turned her gaze out the window. "Anyway, this is good. He can help me with my control and fighting. The full moon is tomorrow… I need all the help I can get."

…

Scott chewed on the edge of his thumbnail, his gaze bouncing from the road to the side mirror. Malia was staring out the window, her brow furrowed in deep thought. Her fingers absently played with her locket and he couldn't help but remember the struggle she'd gone through at the ice rink, right on the edge of turning, struggling to stay in control. And the plea in her voice— 'don't' let me turn completely.' That was her greatest fear right now and, while he was glad he helped stop it from happening, she was right. The countdown to the full moon was ever present and he wasn't sure he had the ability to help her the way she needed. He wasn't sure he could even help himself. Maybe it was a good thing that Derek was around, that he could help guide her through it. Even if that left a sour taste in Scott's mouth. Part of it was because of the deceptive nature of this whole situation, constantly feeling like Derek was keeping too much back from them. Important things that they deserved to know. Another part of him could admit he was jealous, though. Was Malia going to Derek because Scott couldn't do what she needed? Couldn't help her learn the way she wanted?

The jeep jerked to a stop and Scott looked up to see they were idling in front of Malia's house.

"Thanks. I'll text you guys later." Malia pushed the door open and hopped out.

Scott watched her go for a beat and then glanced at Stiles.

Stiles flipped his hands up from the steering wheel, his brows hiked. "This is the part where you go after the girl."

Scott's mouth twitched up and he rolled his eyes. Still, he took Stiles' advice and climbed out of the jeep. "Malia?"

She was on the porch, her keys dangling from her fingers.

Scott walked toward her, his palms suddenly feeling sweaty. "I, uh… Can we talk? I know you're meeting Derek, but—"

"It's fine." She shrugged. "He said to call when I got home. I've got some time."

"Oh. Okay, well…" He came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at her. "I wanted to talk about last night… Uh, in the bathroom."

Malia took a deep breath. "We don't have to. It's just the full moon, I get it."

Scott nodded. "I know, but… I owe you an apology. What happened, what I did, I—"

"You weren't in control. It's fine."

Shaking his head, he said, "That's not an excuse."

"Scott—"

He climbed a stair. "The wolf is a part of me, definitely. And it… It doesn't think the same way I do. It just… It reacts. And last night, I was overwhelmed. It was like I could feel what other people were feeling. There was this… guy, he came up to me and Stiles in the woods, and he just felt angry. And I think I absorbed that or something. I don't know. It's hard to explain. But when I got to the party, I just… I needed to see you. I knew that if I did, if I could just find you, that I would feel better…" He climbed another stair and stood in front of her, just inches apart. "And I was right."

Malia stared at him searchingly. "You couldn't even speak."

"No, but I… I felt safe. I knew you wouldn't let me do anything."

A muscle ticked in her cheek and her gaze fell.

"Malia… I need you to know that if I was thinking straight, if it wasn't so close to the moon, I wouldn't have done that. I wouldn't corner you like that or pressure you into something you didn't—"

"Wait. No. That's not…" Taking a deep breath, she shook her head and raised her eyes to meet his. "Scott, you weren't pressuring me into anything. At no point did I feel scared. I was worried about you and I wanted to help you and I knew you weren't totally in control." Her brow furrowed. "I could see it wasn't really you. Your eyes changed and your body… The way you moved… It was just different." She swallowed. "I should've done something. I left you alone when I knew you were freaking out and I shouldn't have."

"Hey, no, that's not on you. You didn't do anything wrong." He reached out, his fingers folding around her wrist, thumb gently rubbing against her skin. "It was just… A bad night, you know?"

"Yeah… Terrible." She scoffed a laugh and looked away. "I, uh, I'll ask Derek about it. Maybe there's a trick to figuring it out or something. That way it never has to happen again, right?"

His brow furrowed. "Right. Yeah. That makes sense."

She stepped back and his fingers fell from her wrist, hand hanging limp at his side.

Scott wasn't sure where it went wrong, what he said or did, but he felt like he'd taken a wrong turn somewhere. Malia was saying all the right things, that he hadn't screwed up, that she forgave him, that she understood he would never try to hurt her, but he still felt like he had. Was she saying it to make him feel better?

"Are you going to be okay?" he wondered.

Malia nodded. "Yeah, I think I'm just tired. That panic attack really hit me hard. I'm probably gonna try to lay down for a bit before I call Derek."

"Okay." Scott dug his thumbnail into his forefinger nervously. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything about the necklace. I should've known you'd notice it was gone."

"It's okay." She reached up and wrapped her hand around the locket. "Thanks for finding it. I don't know what I'd do if it was really lost."

Feeling awkward and unsure, Scott glanced back at the jeep, at where Stiles was unapologetically watching them. He grimaced and Stiles waved his hands around in a gesture Scott had no idea how to interpret.

Turning back around, Scott found Malia had unlocked her door and was standing at the threshold, her shoulder pressed against the jamb. There was only a few feet between them, but the divide felt cavernous.

The words climbed up his throat and left his tongue, blurted out of worry. "Are we okay?"

Malia stared at him a beat and half-smiled. "Always."

"Malia…" He shook his head. "If I did something… If you need space or… Just tell me what you need and I'll do it."

Malia chewed her lip. "I'm just tired. Really. Last night is… It's a memory. I'll forget it in a few days. It's not a big deal. It's like you said, you weren't yourself. You'd never do that. It was all the moon."

"Okay, but—"

"Scott," she cut him off. "Just go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

Scott felt his heart squeeze before it fell abruptly into his stomach. He took a step back, nodding jerkily. "Okay. Uh…" He paused at the top of the stairs. "I hope you feel better. And… And I'm sorry. I know it doesn't mean much right now, but…"

"I know." Malia shrugged faintly. "There's nothing to forgive."

She sounded like she meant it, but Scott couldn't help but feel like she was wrong.

Turning around, he walked down the stairs and toward the jeep. He heard Malia's door close behind him and flinched. Every step away from her felt like a nail in a coffin of his own making. And he had no idea how he was going to get out.

…

Malia stood, her back pressed against the door. She pressed her hands to her chest and willed her breathing to stay steady until she was sure that the jeep was far enough away that not even Scott would hear her. Once the tell-tale noise of the jeep was long gone, she sunk down to the floor and let herself crumble. Her mouth trembled and her eyes filled with a warm gush of tears. God, she was so stupid. Last night, she sat on her bed and told Allison and Lydia that she felt wanted by Scott. She let them convince her that it was more than just hormones. She let herself believe that maybe it wasn't just the moon. That maybe, underneath the suddenness of it all, her best friend was there, reaching out like he never had before.

Her hands flared up from her chest, to her neck, where she'd felt his mouth brush against her. Maybe she dreamt the tenderness, the heat, the desire she felt swirling around inside of her. Maybe she'd wanted it to be real so badly that she read more into it than what was really there. And she'd been right, hadn't she? That being the more clear-headed of the two, she should've recognized it wasn't him. She should've stopped it. Now he was walking around blaming himself, asking for forgiveness because it was so out of character for him to want her.

Malia bit her lip and let her head fall against her door, glaring at the ceiling. Reaching up, she swiped her hands over her damp cheeks and willed the pity away. It was like Lydia said— it was better to know now than spend years thinking it could be something it wasn't. Next time, she would be ready. She would know that whatever he was doing was just a product of the moon and nothing more.

Feeling a familiar figure at her feet, Malia looked down to see Shiloh sniffing at her, tail wagging slowly, uncertainly.

Malia crossed her legs under her and let her dog climb into her lap while she dug her phone out from her pocket and thumbed through it for 'Miguel.'

Derek picked up after two rings.

Clearing her throat, she said, "How soon can you be here?"

There was a pause before, "You don't sound so good."

"I'm fine." She scrubbed at her nose. "Nothing I can't work off by kicking your ass."

He snorted. "You can try."

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "When?"

"I'll be there in twenty."

He hung up and Malia rolled her eyes before putting her phone aside.

Sniffling, she rubbed her nose on her sleeve, and then half-smiled down at Shiloh. "Hey, Shi… I'm an emo dork, huh?"

Shiloh's tail wagged a little harder and she rolled over expectantly.

With a snort, Malia rubbed Shiloh's stomach and scrubbed her clean sleeve over her eyes.

It was a dumb thing to be upset about. She had so much on her plate already that the last thing she needed was boy drama. It made sense to just get over this, all of it. She would train with Derek, get a better handle on her coyote, make it through this full moon, and then deal with the Alpha. That was the plan. She could do this. She would do this. And in a few weeks or months, all of this unnecessary heartbreak would be a distant memory.

author's note: i know my chapters are usually much longer these days, but consider this an attempt to get back to my regular weekly updates. i have a lot more that was meant to be a part of this chapter, but i feel like that's going to take a few more days to properly flesh out. SO, i'm posting this chapter now and hoping to use the rest of what i have written, expand on it, and get the next chapter finished and ready for posting by this coming weekend. y'all have been so patient with me considering everything was so consistent in the beginning and i really do want to get back to that. so please forgive the long waits that keep popping up. i'm also behind on replying to comments, but i'll be catching up on those soon too!

i really just want to emphasize the miscommunications happening in this chapter. scott, in an effort to defend his actions at the party, blames the moon entirely for what happened with malia, saying that it affects how they feel and kicks everything up to eleven. malia interprets this to mean that the moon was why he attempted to kiss her, which is why she immediately pulls away and leaves to talk to boyd. later, when scott is trying to talk to her, things are going mildly well until scott says it was a bad night. and malia takes this as scott's personal truth. how he feels about what happened. meaning that he never would've kissed her if he'd been in control of himself. so if you lay that against how she talked about it, how she viewed this moment and shared it with allison and lydia, and how they then encouraged her to pursue something, there's an issue of want/perception/reality going on. i don't want to get too deep into that because i explore it more in the next chapter. but i felt like malia's actions at the end of the chapter seemed abrupt and confusing from scott's pov, as they should since he doesn't know what the readers know. instead, he thinks that malia is just trying to make him feel better while actually feeling uncomfortable around him after the near-kiss, for a variety of reasons. again, both scott's and malia's feelings around this will be explored more next chapter, as the full moon and being back at school are going to compound.

i hope some of what i was trying to convey got through in the actual writing and it wasn't too choppy.

also, i keep bringing up jealousy, and that does apply to scott and malia, but there's a third person that i've been trying to imply is also feeling this, and that's threaded throughout, subtly, but a little more obviously in the last couple chapters. i'll be curious to see if anyone's picked up on that or has an idea of what i mean before all is revealed. :)

things to look forward to next chapter: training; attempted family bonding; danny; conspiracy!theorist erica; the moon really starts to screw with our resident shifters; and jealousy and misunderstandings abound.

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