word count: 12,962
episode: 1x09 - Wolf's Bane

XXVII

Scott waited until he was sure she was asleep. Until her heartbeat slowed and her breathing evened out. Until a familiar and quiet snore filled his ears. And then he rolled over, took a moment to watch the moon drape her exhausted face, and finally reached out. His touch was tentative, expecting her to flinch awake. But she didn't, too tired from the day, the night, and everything in between. A single fingertip met her arm, and the pain was quick to follow. He watched black lines crawl up his finger, spread across his hand, and reach up his arm. It was a dull, throbbing ache. Like a few years ago, when he'd fallen off the roof, and landed on the too-hard ground. It'd knocked the air out of him and left him utterly stunned for a moment. There was numbness first, followed by a quick burst of pain that lit up every nerve-ending.

He'd considered asking, offering to take the pain away while she was awake. But Malia was stubborn; she didn't like the idea of her pain becoming someone else's. Scott wasn't sure he understood that logic considering Malia was always the first to offer her help to people she cared about. He also knew she wouldn't be happy with him if she found out he was taking away the pain now, with her fast asleep and unable to tell him different. But she was already unhappy with him. Unhappy might be an understatement. He could feel the strain between them, the distance, festering away, digging a gaping trench between bodies that even now were only inches apart. But he'd felt it. Since Saturday, a pressure weighing down his shoulders. The weight of his regret over crossing a boundary, putting at risk a friendship he held so close to him that the idea of not having it any longer felt like a physical blow.

She didn't hate him. She told him so.

'I love you. I'll always love you. You're my best friend and I don't blame you.'

It was a comfort, a relief, but it was short-lived. Seeing her so bruised and broken, so uncertain, so lost and just... empty.

When he found her in the bathtub, he'd thought... For a moment, it looked like she was trying to drown. Like she was done, and she didn't want to fight anymore. And that terrified him. Malia was a fighter. She always had been. The idea that this had taken that from her, that she was giving up, scared him shitless. He couldn't lose her. Especially not like that. He was prepared to pack his feelings away and shoulder the unrequited love he'd been carrying for far too long. But to lose her entirely... No.

She was struggling. Maybe that was the moon or maybe it was something more, something deeper she wasn't ready to face or talk about. All he knew was that she was hurting and he... Well, he had the ability to take away pain. At least a little bit, for a little while.

So, he let his finger graze her arm and he took what pain from her he could. And the more he took, the more he saw the furrow of her brow and the firm line of her mouth ease. Her shoulders loosened and her body sunk deeper into the bed. The tension and pain of before lessened, at least enough for her to sleep peacefully.

Still, as he settled in next to her, his head resting on his pillow, he was careful to stay in contact. Even if it meant just the tip of a finger pressed to her arm, enough that he could continue leeching the pain from her, to give her a little reprieve.

That was how Scott fell asleep. Not exactly comfortable. Exhausted and achy, for sure. But content. Relieved in the face of her comfort.

...

Malia was a coward. This was proven by the fact that she was sneaking out of Scott's bedroom at six in the morning. He was passed out, face down in his pillow, one arm stretched above his head.

Still dressed in his t-shirt and shorts, with her bag slung over her shoulder, Malia tip-toed barefoot down the stairs. She couldn't hear Melissa's heartbeat anywhere in the house and her car was missing from out front. Still, Malia was careful not to make so much as a peep.

Stiles was outside, his jeep idling. He had his head propped up on one hand, his elbow lodged between the door and the window, mouth hanging open.

With a fond roll of her eyes, she crossed the porch, hopped to the driveway below, and hurried to the jeep. Climbing inside, she sunk down in the passenger seat and let out a long sigh. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, let's go."

Jarred, Stiles blinked wildly and reached for the steering wheel. His hand fumbled for the keys as he squinted at the steering wheel. "I was just resting my eyes."

"Uh-huh."

Pulling away from the house, he twisted in his seat to make sure the area was clear.

Malia stared up at Scott's dark bedroom window, her mouth pursed. Regret gnawed at her stomach. For leaving. For being there in the first place. Not even twenty-four hours ago, she watched him kiss someone else, and yet here she was, taking comfort in the one person she needed to distance herself from. It was a matter of self-respect at this point. If she wanted to get through this with any kind of dignity, she needed to stop leaning on him in her weakest moments. Especially when her feelings for him were partly to blame for her loss of control in the first place.

Turning onto the road, Stiles started in the direction of her house, yawning so wide his jaw gave a distinct crack. As his mouth closed, he gave his head a shake and rubbed the heel of one palm against his eye. "Not that I don't appreciate the early morning wake up call, but remind me again why I'm picking you up at the crack of dawn?"

"It's not that early."

Stiles' brows hiked. He glanced at her and then motioned to himself. "Do you see this? I'm fully dressed—"

She resisted the urge to sigh.

"—because if I wasn't, I'd have to drop you off, race home, shower, get dressed, and then come right back. But since I'm an amazing friend—"

"And so humble, too."

"—I got up when it was still dark out, so I could come sneak Juliet out of Romeo's bedroom."

Malia sighed. "I just couldn't handle it. Not first thing. "

"Handle what?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. "It's a long story..."

"That I woke up at 5:30 in the morning to hear. So, spill."

She sunk down deeper in her seat, shoulders hunched. "Yesterday sucked. I mean, I expected it to, and it started out bad, but it only got worse. By the end of school, I thought, 'okay, I made it. I'll go home, call Derek, and spend the night chained up somewhere.' Instead, I..." Her heart squeezed. "I ran into Allison and she was acting weird, panicky, and she was trying to get me to turn around and walk away, but I didn't. And then I turned my head and... there's Scott, kissing Lydia."

Stiles winced, his hand tightening around the steering wheel. "Dick," he muttered.

"Yeah." Her gaze fell to her lap, where she was hooking and pulling at her fingers. "I get it, you know? I get that it was the moon. I wasn't myself yesterday either, not totally."

"No? Who'd you make out with behind your friends' backs?"

She chewed her lip. "I just... I know what it feels like not to have control."

He hummed. "Does that make it okay?"

"No... I don't know." She shook her head. "Stiles, be honest, okay? Do you really think Scott would ever purposely do anything to hurt you? Do you think he'd go out of his way to kiss Lydia, knowing you've had a crush on her all these years?"

"I hate that word. Crush." He pulled a face. "I prefer to think of it as 'unrealized romantic potential.'"

"Call it whatever you want. My point is that Scott is your best friend, you two are like brothers, and I just don't think he'd do this if he was thinking straight."

"I know that. You don't think I know that?" He flared his fingers up from the steering wheel. "But you didn't hear what he said, the way he talked about her, it was like he was doing it to hurt me. Like he was getting some kind of sick pleasure out of screwing me over."

"Maybe he was. Maybe werewolves are assholes. But that's one night out of the month and it's only because he doesn't have control yet."

"Maybe that's true. Maybe today he's a mopey, apologetic, sad-sack." He shrugged his shoulders high. "But that doesn't make me feel better. That— It doesn't make it go away!"

"I know. It sucks and it hurts and I get it." She rubbed her palm over her forehead. "I just don't want us to get hung up on one part of this so much that we miss the bigger picture."

"Which is?"

"Scott got out of the handcuffs. He attacked Cole and Allison and he could've done a lot worse. And as much as Derek wanted to help me, I shifted before he could even try."

"Because of Scott," he muttered, his voice low and bitter. At Malia's unenthused frown, he said, "Admit it, if you hadn't seen him puckered up with Lydia, you would've made it out of the school and been chained down for the night."

"Yes, probably. But the fact is, I didn't. And my first instinct as a coyote was to make a home in the woods and then try to kill the Alpha. We have to find a better way to handle this stuff. Handcuffs aren't going to work and things aren't always going to go to plan, so what happens then?"

"Well, what happened last night?" He divided his attention between her and the road ahead. "You said Scott and Derek found you, right?"

"Yeah, after I already went head-to-head with the Alpha."

He whistled, eyebrows hiked. "Do you remember how that went?"

"A little. It's kind of like when you wake up from a dream and you only remember bits and pieces, but... I know I bit them. The back of the neck, I think. I still had blood on me after. But it threw me off and..." She swallowed tightly. "It wasn't good. I mean, my ribs were so sore I could barely breath and I just feel like... I don't know for sure, but I really think I almost died."

Stiles stared at her a beat before his gaze moved back to the road.

"That's the worst part. I can't control her when I shift. She could do anything, and I have to live with the consequences. Or not live, which is a whole other problem. If the coyote keeps chasing the Alpha on her own, what if I don't survive it next time? What if all Scott and Derek find is my body? And do I shift back? Am I gonna be just like Laura?" Malia could feel the panic climbing her throat. Her chest grew tight and her throat burned with emotion.

"Hey..." Stiles reached out and gripped her shoulder. "No."

Blinking back the sting of tears, Malia stared at him searchingly. "How do you know?"

"I'm not gonna let that happen, okay?" His brow furrowed. "Look, we split up and Scott pulled some shady werewolf shit, but... Now we know. You're right, we take this as an example and we prepare better next time. That means handcuffs are a no. We can try the chains and..." He sighed. "And we bring Derek into it. We find out what works and we use that. No more going our separate ways. We do it together, all of it."

"What about the Alpha?"

"That... I don't know. We have to find a way to stop it. It's killing people and hurting you and it really wants Scott to kill us, so... It's gotta go, right? Some way or another."

"Yeah." She frowned. "Our lives are so weird."

Stiles snorted. "Totally weird."

Malia leaned back in her seat and stared out at the endless, winding road, dense trees lining either side. "I want to hate Scott, but I don't know how."

"Because of the kiss?"

"Because of everything. Because... It hurts. So much more than it should. It's not like... I mean, we aren't together, you know? He can kiss whoever he wants. But ever since I turned, even before that..." She pressed her fingers against her heart. "I felt like he was mine. Not in a... God, not in a territorial, stay away from my man, kind of way. Ew. But like... We knew each other. We were there for each other. And it just felt so much stronger and deeper than anything else. But then there was Allison and now Lydia and it just feels like..." Her voice broke. "Like a sign that I need to let go and move on and I want to. I really do. Because I want him to be happy, but I want to be happy too. And if I keep holding on to this stupid, idealized dream of what we can be, I can't do that." She stared at the roof of the jeep in the hopes that it would keep her tears from falling. "It would just be so much easier if I could hate him."

"But you don't."

"No." She laughed, but it was cracked and heavy and she could feel her heart spilling out over her shirt. "He asked me if he hurt me and I wanted to tell him yes. But he didn't, not really. I'm hurting myself. I'm the one that keeps holding out hope. I'm the one that keeps reading into everything. It's me."

"Malia..." Stiles shook his head. "You can't help who you fall in love with."

"Maybe." She sniffled. "Anyway, I said we shouldn't talk about it when the moon was still affecting us. I told him to ask me today. And then I called you and begged you to pick me up because I'm a coward and I don't want to deal with it right now."

"I get it."

"But I can't run forever, right? I mean, maybe it's a good thing. Maybe we talk and I get it all out and he lets me down easy and we just... Focus on the werewolf stuff. Because that's a lot more important than bowling balls and butterflies."

"I was totally with you until the bowling reference."

She waved dismissively. "Never mind."

Stiles looked from the road to her and back. "What happens if you talk and he doesn't let you down easy?"

"Didn't we just talk about how sucky getting my hopes up is?" She shook her head. "I just want to put it all behind me and focus on the Alpha and getting control and not hurting innocent people. I just want a normal life again."

Stiles nodded. His brow furrowed thoughtfully as he stared at the road. "I just want you to be happy."

"I know. I want that for you too."

Stiles scrubbed a hand back over his shaved head. "Do you think I should forgive Scott?"

"I think... you should talk to him. I know you're hurt and you're mad and it feels like he should've been able to control it, but... It's complicated. All of it is."

Stiles nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Okay, you'll talk to him?"

"I can't promise I won't yell, but yeah. I'll hear him out."

Malia took a deep breath. "Okay."

...

Malia bee-lined it for her bedroom, leaving Stiles to raid her over-stocked pantry, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

Stripping out of Scott's borrowed clothes, she hopped into the shower and went through her usual morning routine.

Standing in front of the mirror, towel wrapped around her hair, she stared at herself. Her ribs had healed overnight, not a bruise to be seen. Small miracles, she supposed. Her body overall was feeling a lot less runover than she'd been expecting. Yesterday, the exhaustion had been so acute, so all consuming, she couldn't imagine feeling any other way. But now... She was feeling okay. Still nervous and guilty and angry at herself, but physically, she was almost up to going for a run.

Making her way to her bedroom, she dried herself down, tossed her towels in the hamper, and dug around in her dresser for something to wear.

Mostly dressed and just pulling on her socks, she noticed a familiar set of paws peeking out from under her bed. Sliding off the edge, she crouched on the floor and dragged the blanket and sheet up to see Shiloh underneath.

Whimpering, she wiggled deeper under the bed, watching Malia from nervous eyes.

Malia's heart lurched. "Hey..." She laid herself down on her stomach and rested her arms on the floor, hands stacked under her chin. "What's wrong? Huh?"

Shiloh stared at her, but didn't move, her ears turned flat against her head.

"Did I scare you? Was I...?" Her brow furrowed as she looked around. "Did I come here last night?"

Shiloh wasn't about to answer, but Malia realized abruptly that her room was not as clean as it'd been when she'd last left it. There were clothes hanging awkwardly in her closet, one of her pillows was missing, her blanket was askew. Had she been here? Had the coyote come looking for something or someone at home?

Her heart suddenly started hammering.

Pulling herself up from the floor, she left her room and made her way down the hall, only to stumble to a stop. There were scratch marks on Kylie's door. It wasn't open, but something had clearly tried to get in. They were on the floor too. She'd been here. But why? Not for the first time, she wished she'd tuned into what Scott and Derek had been talking about as they'd left the woods last night. But she'd been so tired, so overwhelmed by everything. She would just have to call Derek later and have him fill her in on everything he knew.

Making her way into the living room, she found Stiles sitting on the couch, watching TV, a big bowl of cereal clutched to his chest. "Hey," he garbled through a mouthful. "Y'r da' lef' a no..."

Malia blinked at him.

He waved a spoon behind him, splashing a bit of milk around. "On the cou'er."

Rolling her eyes, Malia made her way into the kitchen. She found a torn off piece of paper on the counter with her dad's familiar scrawl. A bolt of relief hit her hard. Realizing she'd been around the house as a coyote, which had clearly scared Shiloh, had put her on edge. What if her dad had been around? What if she'd hurt him?

His note was simple—

Hey sweetie, hope you had fun at Allison's. Was hoping we could have dinner together tonight, catch up. I should be home around 6. Maybe I'll make us spaghetti or something. Have a good day at school! Love you, dad

Malia bit her lip as she smiled. It was nice. Seeing how hard he was trying.

Turning on her heel, she faced the too-many boxes of cereal he'd picked up and plucked one from the shelf. Pouring herself a bowl, she joined Stiles on the couch. "Shiloh's scared of me."

Stiles looked at her, gave it some thought, and said, "She'll come around."

Malia stirred her cereal and sighed.

Stiles bumped her shoulder.

She bumped his back.

…

When Scott's alarm went off, he startled awake, thrashing a little. He was only mildly surprised to find his body still achy and exhausted. He imagined the adrenaline rush and crash of last night would be one thing, but adding Malia's pain on top of it had probably rung him out. Speaking of Malia... He turned to her side of the bed to find it noticeably empty.

Groaning, he fell back against his pillow, threw an arm over his face, and let the other fall atop the alarm clock, crushing it beyond repair.

Maybe it was wishful thinking to hope that she might have stayed around. He knew he'd screwed up. Things were already on unsteady ground to begin with, but adding in his dick behavior yesterday, kissing Lydia, attacking Cole and Allison, and just generally not being there when Malia needed him most, yeah... This would be the perfect time for Stiles to make an 'in the doghouse' joke. Only the likelihood of that was pretty small since he'd pissed off Stiles too.

Letting his arm fall away from his face, Scott frowned at the ceiling.

Today was going to suck.

…

Malia was in the middle of putting her backpack away, wondering what books she'd need for first class, when she heard quick footsteps coming in her direction. If it wasn't immediately followed by a familiar scent, she might've gone on the defensive. But, thankfully, she knew that scent. So, when she stepped back from her locker and turned, she was just in time to get an armful of Allison.

"I've been worried about you all night!"

Slightly strangled, Malia wiggled her head around to give her neck some space and grunted, "Really?"

"Yes!" Allison leaned back to see her better. "After that whole thing with Scott and... Lydia." She winced. "And then that animal attacking Cole's car when I was at your house... It was weird. And all I could think was that you live out there. I don't even know what it was. But..." She shuddered. "It freaked me out."

"But you're okay." Malia rubbed her hands up and down Allison's arms. "And, as you can see, so am I."

Allison's brow furrowed, unconvinced. "Yesterday you looked like your heart had been put through a shredder."

"Well, it kind of felt that way." Malia shrugged. "But it's fine. I'm fine."

Still unsure, Allison just stared at her a beat before yanking her into another hug.

Malia rolled her eyes, but grinned, resting her chin on Allison's shoulder. "Is this for me or because you were freaked out last night?"

"Both." She squeezed her a little tighter. "Is it just me or do weird things happen here more than other places?"

Malia sighed. "It wasn't always like this."

"No?" Allison let go and stepped back. "When did it start?"

That night, she thought. The night the body was found. That a werewolf bit Scott. That they went into the woods looking for adventure and instead found a life-long curse.

"Recently, I guess." She smiled then. "Maybe it was you." She turned back to her locker to pull out her books. "Maybe you set the whole thing in motion."

Allison snorted. "Yeah, sure. Except I never had these problems anywhere else."

Closing her locker, Malia turned on her heel nodded her head toward the hall. They started walked together, shoulder to shoulder. Biting her lip a moment, she gave it some thought before she said, "I've heard some theories. Totally weird theories that we probably shouldn't put much stock in, but still..."

"Oooh, like what?"

"Well, apparently Beacon Hills is on a bunch of ley lines, and if you believe in that kind of thing, it could make it the kind of place bad things just tend to happen in."

"Okay... But you said it wasn't like this before."

"It wasn't. At least, I don't think it was."

"Well, what changed then?"

Malia shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it depends on who or what you think is doing everything. Maybe it's a psycho killer with a grudge or rabid animals or... werewolves." Her gaze skittered toward Allison curiously.

She snorted. "Werewolves?"

There was no pause. No suspicion or nervousness. Just an immediate disbelief.

Malia breathed out a little sigh of relief and then knocked her elbow against Allison's. "Could be Bigfoot."

"The Tooth fairy."

"Santa Claus."

"Lochness Monster."

"Vampires."

"Swamp creature."

"Aliens."

"Abominable Snow—"

"Allison!"

They both looked as Lydia stood down the hall, chin raised, staring at Allison expectantly, one hand gripped tight around the strap of a tiny purse perched on her shoulder, the other on her cocked hip.

Allison stared back a beat, then tucked her hand under Malia's elbow, and turned her down a connecting hallway. Clearing her throat, she said, "Anyway, where was I?"

Malia paused. But then, she didn't really want to see or talk to Lydia right now either. So, she went along... "I'm pretty sure you were suggesting the Abominable Snowman has invaded Beacon Hills."

She grinned. "That's right. And he has a red-nosed sidekick."

Laughing, Malia shook her head. "Watch out Beacon Hills."

...

By break, Scott had only tracked down one of his friends. Stiles was standing at his locker, thumbing through one of his books, brow furrowed and tongue stuck out the side of his mouth in concentration.

Gathering up his courage, Scott made his way over, half-smiling hopefully. "Hey..."

Stiles glanced at him and then returned his attention to his books. "Hey."

Scott stared at him searchingly. "Look, I... I owe you an apology. For last night, for everything I did and said and..." He sighed. "Stiles, that's not me. That's not who I am. That's not what I think and it's definitely not something I would choose to do. I'm not trying to blame it on the moon but—"

"That's kind of the thing though, right?" Stiles shook his head. "Either it's the moon or it isn't. Either the moon makes you the biggest dick of all the dicks or... it just lets you be who you really are. A dick."

Scott nodded. "I deserve that."

"Yeah, man, you do." He shoved his books into his locker and then shook his head. Hands on his hips, he pivoted to face him better. "The thing is, I do know you. And I know that Lydia— as beautiful and smart and amazing as she is— she's not exactly your type. You like Malia. And maybe if you'd get your head out of your ass, she'd be the one your making out with on full moons. But she isn't. Instead, you're making out with the one girl…" He flattened his mouth and took a deep breath through his nose. "I know that last night, you weren't thinking straight. You weren't you."

"I wasn't!"

"I get that, Scott. Logically, I mean, yeah, I know that. But it's hard to forget the things you said. And... It's Lydia, you know? I mean, of all the people in this freaking school that you could've kissed, it had to be her?"

"Trust me, if I could do it over, I wouldn't. I'd never choose to hurt you."

Tapping his foot, Stiles nodded. "All right. Okay. So, let's say we chalk this up to the full moon. But Scott, seriously…" He stared at him "We can't do this every month. There's gotta be a plan for next time."

"You're right. I know that. There was just so much going on this time and I don't know what I expected it to feel like, but it was intense." Scott stepped a little closer and lowered his voice as he said, "I attacked Cole and Allison."

"Yeah, Malia told me this morning."

"You saw her?" Scott's eyebrows hiked. "Is she okay? I think she's hiding her scent or her heartbeat or something. I can't find it. I've been looking for her, but..."

"She's all right. I think she's trying to process everything. It was a lot for her. You know, she thinks she almost died. She can't remember everything, it's just a gut feeling she's having, but... We could've lost her and we wouldn't've even known." He shook his head. "We need to prepare better. For everything."

Scott frowned. The frustrating feeling of helplessness swamped him. "How? I mean, Derek can help, but right now he's on the run from the police, because of me."

"So, he keeps his furry head down a while." Stiles shrugged. "That or you tell my dad that maybe you got it wrong. Maybe it wasn't Derek. He hasn't interviewed Malia yet, she could say it was someone else."

"Like who?"

"I don't know. Just someone else. Someone not Derek."

"You think your dad would believe that?"

"Maybe..." He shook his head. "Maybe not. And it won't stop the Argents from trying to find him."

Scott groaned. "Why do I keep screwing things up?"

"To be fair, the Argents would've been hunting Derek anyway."

Sighing, Scott fell back against the lockers. "How do I fix it? Any of it?"

Stiles stared at him a beat. "Well, apologizing to me was a good start. Maybe you find Malia and do the same."

Scott grimaced. "That's if she ever talks to me again."

…

Malia stood at her locker, putting her books away and grabbing out her bag, hooking it over her shoulder. Danny had texted her earlier, wanting to meet up by her favorite tree.

A cleared throat caught her attention and she closed her locker door to find Lydia standing on the other side, her chin raised and her nose in the air. She brushed a red curl from her face. "I can't find Allison."

"Did you try texting her?"

"Of course I did. I've called, texted, emailed, yelled at her from across a hall..." She tapped a foot impatiently. "None of that is working, which is why I'm here, asking you what is going on."

Malia shrugged her bag over her other shoulder. "Sounds like something you need to figure out with Allison." She turned to leave, but Lydia was quick to follow, her heels clicking.

"I have no idea what happened. Everything was fine yesterday, but now today, she won't even look at me. I haven't done anything to—"

Malia turned to stare at her. "Nothing?"

Lydia stared at her a beat. Her eyes darted away and then she raised her chin even higher. "Nothing I have to apologize for."

Malia hummed. "Okay. Well, good luck."

"What?"

She started walking backwards, away from Lydia. "With Allison."

Lydia stared at her. "Look, Malia, I—"

"Have nothing to apologize for." Malia shrugged her shoulders high. "I heard you the first time."

Lydia's gaze fell then, staring at the floor, her painted pink lips puckered in a frown.

Malia turned on her heel and left. She made her way through the halls, dodging a familiar and frustrated scent, until she reached a door that led outside.

Outside, she found Danny and Erica sitting in the grass, leaning against her favorite tree.

She took a seat on the ground and pulled her bag into her lap, digging inside for her lunch.

"Hey," Erica said.

Malia grunted.

"Did something... happen?"

Malia looked up and between them. "Nothing I really wanna talk about. How's your day going?"

Erica shrugged. "All right. I'm been thinking about the werewolf theory though."

"Oh?" Malia's brows hiked as she looked from Erica to Danny. "That's still on the table, huh?"

Danny shrugged. "If you look deep into Beacon Hill's history, there's plenty of lore to support the idea of supernatural... beings."

"Beings?"

"People, creatures, whatever you want to call them."

Malia frowned. "Yeah, but isn't lore basically just... stories?"

"That's all history is, really. We just pick and choose what we want to believe is real. It's easier to write things off as camp stories instead of seriously considering the possibility that we aren't on the top of the food chain."

"So now werewolves eat us?" Malia's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Isn't that semi-cannibalistic? After all, they're half human too, aren't they?"

Danny snorted. "Interesting theory. But I meant the food chain like apex predators."

Erica grinned. "Like if Godzilla was real, she'd be the MVP."

"Okay..." Malia chewed her lip. "So, let's say werewolves are real—"

"Werewolves are real," Danny and Erica said in perfect sync.

Malia rolled her eyes. "Why now? Why does a werewolf show up here, in Beacon Hills, now? What makes that a better theory than... crazy human serial killer?"

Danny shrugged. "What if it's both?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what if the crazy serial killer is a werewolf. What if werewolves were always here but they didn't hurt anybody? Maybe this one's just different. This one wants to hurt people."

Malia shook her head. "Why, though? What's the purpose?"

"Animals kill for food," Erica said. "The 'mountain lion' didn't eat the clerk. Or you or me or Jackson. And Derek, or whoever was in the school, they killed the janitor, but did they eat them?"

"The body wasn't found," Danny pointed out.

"Why are we assuming the two are related?" Malia frowned. "What if one's an animal attack and one's a human attack?"

"What are the odds that me, you, and Jackson are in both places?" Erica looked unconvinced. "There has to be a connection."

But did there? Malia knew that the reason the Alpha had come to the school was because Scott had called it there. So, wasn't it just pure coincidence that they were there? Jackson only stayed because Lydia wanted to be sure Allison was there. Allison and Scott were the real targets, not the rest of them. But then... What about the clerk? Why were they killed? Why go through the trouble of getting inside the video store to kill them when there had to be easier targets elsewhere? And following that train of thought, why kill the bus driver?

"Malia?"

"Hm? What?" She looked up sharply to find Danny and Erica staring at her. "Sorry. I'm being spacey." She picked up half her sandwich and look a large bite out of it. "Anyway, who wants to hear about my math test?"

Danny perked up. "You got your mark back? Already?"

Nodding, she dug into her bag and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper.

Danny took it from her outstretched hand and grinned. "B+. See? Didn't I say you'd pass?"

Malia rolled her eyes, the corner of her mouth inching up. "I did all right."

…

Lydia yelped as she was abruptly dragged into an empty office. Shaking his hand off her arm, she turned a sour look on him. "Scott." She smoothed a hand over the hip of her skirt. "I hope you're not expecting a repeat of last night. It was fun, but…" She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Let's not make a habit of it."

"What?" He let out a strangled noise. "No. I just wanted to talk to you."

"Oh?" She crossed her arms. "Good. Then maybe you can explain to me why Allison is giving me the cold shoulder. Just who exactly did you tell?"

Scott winced. "Malia knows. I… I told her. She must've said something to Allison."

"You told Malia?" Lydia stepped forward, staring at him searchingly. "What did you say?"

"Does it matter?" Scott's brow furrowed. "Look, all I wanted to say was that yesterday was a mistake. I was… I wasn't thinking straight. I was upset and I guess I just… reacted. So, I'm sorry. I don't know if you thought—"

"What? That we were going to ride off into the sunset together? Hardly." She rolled her eyes. "Like I said, it was fun, but it was never going to be anything more. I just needed Jackson to know that he can be replaced at anytime. There will always be someone ready to prove they're better. So, he either has to be at his best at all times or step aside." She reached out and patted Scott's chest. "You were just a means to an end."

Scott's eyebrow raised. "But what you said, about Malia…"

Taking a deep breath, Lydia let it out on a long-suffering sigh. "This is your problem, Scott. You miss the bigger picture when you're too focused on the small details. You have potential. To be as good or better than Jackson. To have what he has and do a better job of keeping it. But you're too worried about Malia to realize that you could be so much more than you are."

Scott stared at her a beat. "I don't think I'm the one with the problem."

Lydia's head jerked back. "Excuse me?"

"There is no bigger picture without the small details. And honestly, I don't want to be a part of something bigger if the people that were there from the beginning aren't there with me." He shook his head. "Whatever game you and Jackson are playing, leave me out of it. I'm happy where I am." He pushed past her toward the door then. "And Lydia?"

She turned to look at him over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised.

"I'm not the guy, but there'll be someone else, someone who makes you feel like those small details are what really matter. Someone you don't have to prove anything to."

Her gaze fell away.

Scott walked out the door, letting it fall closed behind him.

Now that Stiles and Lydia were figured out, all that was left was Malia. He took a deep breath and found it disappointingly bereft of wildflowers. Easier said than done.

…

Allison glared at her phone screen, where the latest of a dozen unanswered texts from Lydia stared back at her.

"Archnemesis?"

"Huh?" Allison looked up to find Cole fall into step next to her. "Uh, no... At least I don't think so. Just... drama, I guess."

"Ahh." He nodded. "You wanna talk about it?"

She took a deep breath and shook her head. "I don't know if it's my story to tell."

"No? Because it seems like you're taking it pretty personally."

Allison's eyes narrowed and a slow smile broke out across her lips. "Okay. Good point." She tucked her phone in the pocket of her jeans. "I have two friends. Good friends."

"Best friends," he teased.

"Right. And one friend... betrayed the other. And my other friend saw them do it."

He hummed.

"And I... I'm angry. I mean, who does that? Why would she do that?"

Cole nodded. "Have you asked her?"

"No! No, I haven't said anything to her." She shook her head. "I don't want to. I just..."

"You want to hurt her."

"No," she denied, "that's not..."

"That's why you're ignoring her. Because you know it'll hurt her feelings."

Allison let out a scoff of a laugh. "Okay, Dr. Phil."

He grinned. "I've done the same thing. Probably not for the same reason, but I know when I'm mad at my dad for something, I shut him out. I wanted him to feel what I was feeling. Maybe that's what you're trying to do. Make her hurt like how she made your friend hurt."

Allison's mouth hung open a moment before eventually, she sighed. "Maybe. I just... It was a really shitty thing to do."

"Shitty enough you don't want to be friends anymore?"

A weight filled Allison's stomach. Before this, she and Lydia were close. Really close. But now… "Enough that I'm really, seriously questioning it."

"So, tell her that."

Allison's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Giving my dad the silent treatment only worked for as long as he called. When he stopped calling, I lost my leverage. Nothing got solved." He shrugged. "So, talk to her, tell her why you're pissed, tell her she either needs to fix it or you'll walk away."

"Then what?"

"Then you find out if she cares as much as you do."

Allison's gaze fell. "What if she doesn't?"

"Then at least you didn't waste your time on someone who doesn't deserve it."

Chewing her lip, she nodded. "Okay. Maybe I will." Her phone buzzed in her pocket. "Just not right now. I'll let her stew one more day. Then I'll take the high road."

Cole smirked. "Whatever works for you."

"It does." She smiled. "If sports and the fabric store don't work out, you might have a future in therapy."

"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow. "How does that make you feel?"

Allison groaned.

…

Stiles plopped down at his desk and turned around to face her. "Hey, question!"

Malia raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

He rested his arms on her desk and leaned forward curiously. "Can you mask your scent? Or heartbeat? Is a thing you're doing?"

Taking a quick look around to make sure nobody else had overheard, she frowned. "Uh... no. At least, I don't think so. Why?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing. Just... Scott said something, about not being able to find you."

Malia's heart jumped. "Oh. Well... If I am, it's not on purpose."

"Are you sure?"

She scowled.

He held his hands up. "I just meant that maybe you're doing it on purpose just not consciously."

"You think I'm accidentally hiding my scent? I didn't even know that was a thing I could do. Trust me, if I did, I would've done it ages ago. I don't exactly smell like roses after a good run."

"I think you're nervous about talking to Scott. You know you're gonna have to lay it all out and you're not sure how he's going to react. And I think a part of you is so scared that it's actively trying to help you hide from it." He leaned in abruptly and started sniffing at her.

Malia shoved a hand against his face and pushed him back. "People can see you, you know that, right?" The classroom was filling up, a few people glancing in their direction.

He winced. "Sorry. I just thought..." He shook his head. "Anyway, my point stands."

"Okay, so, say you're right—"

He grinned.

"—I don't know how I'm doing it, so I definitely don't know how to stop it."

"Well, logic says if you're not scared you don't have to hide." He stared at her knowingly. "Take your own advice." He flicked her hair. "Talk to him." Point made, he turned around in his seat.

Malia glared at his back.

…

"Scott! McCall, hey!"

Scott drew a deep breath and let it out on a sigh, twisting the grimace on his mouth into something halfway friendly, he turned on his heel.

Cole jogged down the hall to meet him. "Hey, man, I was hoping we could talk."

"Uh... yeah, sure." Scott's gaze darted around the busy hallway as people readied to head home. "Uh, here, or...?"

Cole motioned toward an adjacent hallway. It was half glass, two panes of which were still covered over from when Malia had helped Danny and Erica escape from the alpha.

Running a hand through his hair awkwardly, Scott pivoted to face Cole. "So, what's up?"

Cole shrugged. "I've been thinking about Saturday and I think I said something that maybe got mixed up..." He shook his head. "I just wanted to clear the air so things aren't weird or anything..."

"Weird?"

"Yeah, well, I said Malia and I are working things out and I think it maybe sounded like I meant as a couple, but... That's not really where we're at. We talked about it and we make more sense as friends. I can't say I'm not disappointed, but she's a pretty good friend to have. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that."

"Oh. Uh, okay." Scott stared at him a beat. "So, you guys aren't...?"

"She let me down easy."

"Oh. Yeah, I... I guess I did think you meant you were together or..." He shook his head. "Anyway, I'm sorry it didn't work out."

Cole stared at him a beat, searching his face. "You know, as someone who knows Malia and knows how easy it is to care about her... I get it."

Scott's brow furrowed. He glanced away and then back. "What?"

Cole half-grinned. "I've got practice, so I should head out. But I'm glad we cleared that up."

"Yeah, sure, me too." Scott watched as Cole turned on his heel and walked away. For a moment, he was, well, dumbfounded. But then, as his confusion ebbed, he realized something very important. Cole was no longer a part of the picture. Malia broke things off with him. Which meant Malia was single. And he'd kissed Lydia Martin yesterday…

Lately, it seemed like everything he did was just one step forward and three steps back.

…

"So, I'm thinking... girls' night," Allison suggested. "Junk food, which I know is your weakness, pizza, M&M's, licorice, whatever you want, and just a ton of movies."

"A nice dream." Malia half-smiled. "But last I checked, it's Tuesday. I don't think your dad would let us stay up 'til 4 am watching chick flicks."

"I was thinking more like comedies." Allison scrunched up her nose. "Screw love."

"All right, I like your pitch, but I'm still stuck on the Tuesday thing. Plus, my dad wants me home for dinner. I think he wants us to spend some time together, just the two of us."

"Oh." Allison frowned. "Okay, I guess I get that."

"What about tomorrow? We might have to limit it to one or two movies, but if we get started right away..."

Allison grinned. "Okay. Raincheck it is. That gives me some time to look up movies too. I'll text you a short list."

"Are you seriously going to vet the movies to make sure there's no romance?"

"Definitely."

Malia shrugged. "Okay. I'll bring the junk food."

"Deal." Allison's gaze fell then as her phone buzzed from the pocket of her jeans. "That'll be my dad. He's still being super hovery."

"I get it." Malia paused. "Does he know about last night?"

"No..." She bit her lip. "I thought about telling him, but I feel like if even one more thing goes wrong, he's going to sign me up for some all-girls boarding school in Europe or something."

Malia snorted. "I haven't had a pen pal since third grade, but I'll brush my letter writing skills off if he does."

Allison laughed under her breath. "I appreciate the commitment."

Malia pulled her bag on. "I think I'm going to change and get a run in before I go home. But text me later?"

"Okay. I will." Allison started walking backwards down the hall. "And hey, if you wanna talk later, about Scott or Lydia or... anything. Call me. Seriously."

Malia smiled. "I will."

Allison's phone buzzed again and she rolled her eyes. "Okay. I gotta go. Have a good run!"

Malia nodded, waving a hand in goodbye. As Allison turned around, she answered her phone out. Malia listened to her reassure her dad that yes, she was on her way out and no, she wasn't in any danger whatsoever.

Turning in the opposite direction, Malia made her way to the locker room.

…

"Are you all right, Scott?" Deaton wondered. "You seem a little distracted today."

Scott looked up from the supplies he was going through and gave his head a shake. "Yeah, sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind lately."

"Would this have something to do with the attack at the school? That must've been really stressful for you, and for your friends."

"Yeah, it was. But that's not... I mean, it is stressing me out, but that's not all of it."

"Ah." Deaton nodded. "It's been a while, but I remember what it was like when I was your age. It's not easy." His gaze dropped to the chart in his hands. "It's been a while since we've had Shiloh come in for a check-up. I was going to have reception call Malia, see if she could bring her in tomorrow. Since Julie's out, do you think you could let Malia know? It's not our usual protocol, but I figure since you two are so close..."

Scott frowned. "Usually, I'd say yes. But I don't know if Malia's really talking to me right now."

"Oh?" Deaton stared down at him curiously. "Is everything all right? I know she was at the school that night too."

Scott nodded. "Yeah. She's okay. I just... I think I screwed things up and I don't really know what to do."

Deaton hummed. "You know, it's been my experience that if I think I've done something wrong, the best thing to do is talk to the person I feel I've wronged. Sometimes they're the only person who can offer clarification on the situation. And if they deserve an apology, they're right there to hear it."

Scott glanced at him. "What if an apology isn't enough?"

"Well, that's the difficult part, isn't it? All we can really do is our best. We apologize, we try to do better next time, we learn, and we grow." He smiled lightly. "But listen, I know you. And I think I know Malia pretty well too. I don't think there's anything you could've done, at least not intentionally, that would cause your relationship to deteriorate too much."

Scott sighed. "I just feel like I'm doing everything wrong. That I'm hurting everyone I care about."

"Is what you're doing intentional? Is it something you can change?"

"I don't know... I think I can do better. I just might need some help."

"Well, then, that's a start, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Scott sighed. "So, I just talk to her?"

"Be honest with her."

Scott nodded. "All right. Thanks."

"No problem. Now, how's the cat food supply look? Are we running low?"

Scott shook off his distraction and refocused on work, dropping his attention to a list attached to a nearby clipboard.

...

Malia slowed to a stop on the track field, her lungs burning and her legs shaking. She tipped her head back, hands on her hips, as she tried to catch her breath. The sun was setting in the distance, a reminder of just how long she'd been running for. The school had long emptied out, while she lingered, trying to get her head on straight. There was only so much avoidance she could get away with, and that was what she was doing. While she hadn't been actively hiding her scent and heartbeat from Scott, not knowingly anyway, she was still able to avoid him by tracking his scent and avoiding hallways he was in. And if they shared a class, she walked in right before it started and stayed focused on her work or the teacher. But it was a Band-Aid and they both knew it.

Walking to the bench, where her bag was tucked out of view, she took a seat. Digging a water bottle out, she guzzled half of it, swiping at her mouth with her arm. She pushed her hair off her flushed face and took a moment to just absorb the quiet. As she did, however, breathing deep through her nose, she caught a scent nearby. Sour and pungent, reeking of suspicion.

Malia went still, her shoulders bunched up tight. She tilted her head in the direction the scent was coming from and let her eyes open.

He wasn't close by any means, but he was there. Jackson. She really needed to stop underestimating Jackson's uncanny ability to stick his nose in other people's business. He was involved in this, whether she wanted him to be or not. And he was putting things together. She wasn't sure how long it would take for him to go from 'serial killing Derek' to 'homicidal werewolf' but something needed to be done.

Intimidation wouldn't work, not with someone like Jackson. He was too egotistical for his own good. Which meant it had to be subtle. A distraction. A logical answer to all of the illogical things he'd seen. She'd have to talk to Stiles, find a way to throw Jackson off the scent. But it would have to wait for now. It was getting late and she needed to head home.

Malia dug her phone out of her bag and stood from the bench. She had a missed call from her dad, so she called him back as she started across the field.

"Hello?"

"Dad, hey... Sorry I missed your call. I was running."

"Oh. Out here on the trails?"

"No, at the school. It's a little late to shower, I think they've probably locked up by now, so I'll just catch the bus out that way."

"Why don't I pick you up? I need a few more things for dinner anyway."

She paused, brow furrowed. "Are you sure?"

"I'm already walking out the door. I'll see you soon."

A smile pulled at her mouth. "All right. Bye."

Hanging up, Malia made her way to the parking lot. She found a bench to sit on and let her bag flop down beside her. Jackson's scent was fainter now, distant enough to tell her he'd left. She felt a heavy weight in her stomach, warning her that Jackson was a threat she couldn't put off for long. A beep from her phone let her know she had unread texts, so she quickly busied herself with that instead.

A few were from Allison with movie suggestions. A couple more were from Stiles, just checking in and letting her know how much homework sucked.

But the last two were from Scott.

—'can we talk?'

—'please?'

Malia let out a long, heavy sigh. Her thumb hovered over the screen. Chewing her lip, she gathered her courage and texted back— 'it'll have to be later. i'm having dinner with my dad.'

He was quick to reply —'yeah! sure! that's fine. later works!'

She shifted in her seat, anxiety welling in her stomach. —'okay. your place?'

—'sounds good. i'll text you when I'm off work.' He added a smiley emoji.

Despite her worry, Malia felt a tiny ball of warmth unfurl in her chest. Things were weird and awkward, but maybe they wouldn't have to stay that way. —'ok'

Putting her phone away, she sat back against the bench, and waited on her dad to arrive.

…

Dinner was going well. Apparently, her dad was in a nostalgic mood, because he was telling a lot of stories from when he was in high school. But it was nice. He was a good story teller, and he got up to a lot of truly dumb things, which meant she spent much of the meal laughing at his expense. It also gave her something to focus on other than her expected meet up with Scott. But as the laughter died away and the food was finished, she traded the table for the sink to wash dishes.

"You feeling all right?"

"Hm?" Malia looked up as her dad hovered next to her, drying plates and putting them away.

Henry frowned. "You just seem like you're upset about something."

"Oh." She paused. "No, just... I'm just thinking."

"Yeah? Anything I can help with?"

Malia half-smiled. "I don't think so."

"No? That means it's about a boy." He knocked his elbow against her arm. "You don't think I can give dating advice? I was a stud back in high school!"

"The fact that you just used the word 'stud' isn't exactly encouraging."

"What? They don't use that kind of lingo anymore?"

Malia groaned. "Dad, stop!"

He chuckled to himself. "All right, fine."

"Thank you."

He dried a bowl and stacked it with a few others. "This wouldn't happen to be about Scott is it?"

Malia's head fell back with a loud sigh.

"I thought I saw something, a spark maybe, when he came over for breakfast."

She shook her head. "I can't hear you. I've gone temporarily deaf." She brandished a few pieces of wet, soapy cutlery. "And if it wears off, I might stab myself in the ear with this fork."

Henry rolled his eyes. "That's a little dramatic."

Malia put all of her focus on the dishes, scrubbing with a little more elbow grease than strictly necessary.

"Are you two dating?"

She frowned. "No."

He hummed. "Do you want to?"

She turned to glare at him.

But Henry only smiled. "Hey, I missed out on a lot of this stuff. I'm trying to make up for it now. Humor me a little. You got a thing for Scott?"

"I..." She folded up her mouth, all too truthful words crowding atop her tongue. "Yes. I do. I... I like him and he doesn't like me, not like that."

Henry stared at her a beat. "Are you sure about that?"

Malia stared at him, unimpressed. "Dad..."

He held his hands up, one still clutching a dish towel. "I'm not trying to get your hopes up or something. I'm just going off what I saw. What I've seen. I wasn't around much, I know that. But when I was, I always knew you were safe with Scott. Not just because I know Melissa, but because of who Scott is. And he only proved that the other day. You know, the one thing I can be grateful for is that you found good people to help you through what happened. I regret it wasn't me. I really do. But you found Scott and the Stilinski boy and the three of you have been thick as thieves ever since." He sighed, letting his hands drop to his sides. "I'm not gonna speak for someone else. Whatever it is between you and Scott, you two need to figure that out. I just know that he's a good kid and that he cares about you."

"I know."

Henry reached out and brushed her hair off her cheek, tucking it away from her eyes. "You know, your mom was about your age the first time she fell in love."

Her eyes bounced up to meet his. "Really?"

"Yeah. Guy named Gus."

Malia's nose scrunched up. "Gus? Seriously?"

He laughed lightly. "Gus Matthews. The way she told it, he was about a year older, had a motorcycle, leather jacket, stereotypical bad boy..."

"And she was into that?"

He shrugged. "She saw something in him, I guess. Fell in love and thought she'd marry him."

Malia leaned her hip against the sink. "What happened?"

"The usual. They fought, broke up, worked it out. Went that way for a couple years, and then he graduated. Asked her to quit school and join him on the road. She decided to stay, finish school, figured they'd find each other after if they were meant to."

"But they didn't."

"No. She went on her own adventure, and eventually, she found me instead."

Malia bit her lip as she smiled. "Gus, huh?"

He nodded. "Bad boy Gus."

"Huh."

"That's how it goes. Things seem so much bigger when you're younger. Life or death. But people come and go. You date, fall in love, break up, fall out of love, date again."

Her nose scrunched up. "Sounds a little cynical when you put it that way."

"Eventually, you find the right person. Could be when you're sixteen, could be when you're 20, fresh from living out of a bus in a commune, studying sustainable agriculture."

Malia grinned. "Did she wow you with her pesticide-free egg plants?"

He snorted a laugh. "She did." He nodded. "You're a lot like her."

"Are you kidding? I could kill a cactus just by looking at it."

"You didn't get her green thumb, but you did get her strength."

Malia stared at him a beat. "Not the worst thing I could get, I guess."

"Not by a long shot. She used to have a wicked potty mouth. I'm glad you didn't get that."

Malia laughed. "I've got time."

He raised a hand to wag a finger at her, but a sharp knock at the door caught their attention. "You expecting someone?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

"Huh." He walked to the door, tossing the dish towel over his shoulder and reached for the door handle.

Malia angled herself to the side to better see who was on the other side. Her stomach dropped as she spotted Sheriff Stilinski.

"Henry," the Sheriff greeted. "Sorry to drop in on you guys like this."

"That's fine. What can I do for you, Sheriff?"

He looked past him to Malia. "Was hoping I might talk to Malia about the attack at the school. Afraid she's the only statement I haven't gotten yet."

Henry turned to look at Malia.

She could see in his face that he would make an excuse and send the Sheriff away if she wanted him to. She felt a burst of gratitude hit her. He wasn't perfect, but he was trying. "It's okay. I should get it over with." Wiping her hands dry, she made her way to the table.

Sheriff Stilinski made his way in the house, removing his hat as he went. He took a seat at the table and smiled at Malia lightly. "Was hoping I might see you at the station earlier."

"Yeah, sorry. I meant to, but I totally forgot."

"It's all right. I've got time now." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a tape recorder and a notepad. "Can you tell me what happened that night, Malia? Everything you can remember. Every detail matters."

Malia nodded. "Yeah. I can do that."

"All right." He fiddled with the recorder. "Can I get your full name and birth date?"

"Malia Natalia Tate. November 28, 1994."

"Okay, Malia, can you start with what you were doing at the school on the night of February 2, 2011?"

"Yeah, uh..." She shifted in her seat. "I was in the library, studying for a math test..."

Telling the whole story felt like it took forever. He interrupted frequently to clarify names and details. He paused when she reached the point where she got Danny and Erica out, but chose to stay. He didn't ask why, didn't tell her that it was dangerous and she should've left and gone for help. Not because he didn't care, not even because she was staying behind for his son. Instead, she thought she saw understanding in his gaze. Exasperated understanding. He'd known her a long time, had seen her friendship with Stiles grow over the years. The one thing they all were was loyal to each other. Not even a homicidal serial killer was going to hinder that.

By the end of it, she felt exhausted. Reliving the ordeal wasn't exactly nice and the more she talked about it, the less 'over' it felt. Like it was shadowing her wherever she went. That one terrifying night where her whole life had turned upside down. There were other nights, other days when life seemed right on the edge of being too much. Just last night she'd suffered something similar. But she wasn't sure anything would compare to seeing Scott being shredded apart while her body betrayed her and she became something else... Something she had no real control over.

She didn't tell Sheriff Stilinski that, however. In his and her dad's mind, her part of the story ended shortly after slipping in the librarian's blood and retreating to the locker room to wash it off.

With a sigh, he rubbed a hand over his brow and stared at her. "Did you see anyone when you were there? This... guy that was chasing everyone. You never got a look at him?"

There was a pause before she answered, one that felt like it stretched on forever. She wanted to lie, say she caught a glimpse of him, if only to say it wasn't Derek. But it didn't fit with the events as she'd shared them. So, she told him, "No."

"Okay." He nodded and closed his notebook. "Is that everything you have to share?"

"Yes."

With that, he turned off the recorder. "Thanks for this. I know it isn't fun, but with everything that happened..."

"Have they found the librarian?" Henry wondered, seated directly across from Malia.

"No, not yet." With a shake of his head, Sheriff Stilinski rose from his chair. "It's a complicated case. Confusing more than anything. But I guess that's becoming something of the norm lately."

"You mean the animal attacks?" Henry frowned. "I've lived in the preserve a while now, we don't have much trouble with anything out here. Hard to believe they'd start making their way into town to attack anyone. Can't see why they would. They have plenty of food where they are."

"Yeah. We've been thinking the same."

"Could be rabies though, couldn't it?" Malia suggested.

"Could be." Sheriff Stilinski plucked his hat up from the table. "Sorry I took up so much of your evening. I better get back out there."

"Sure." Henry walked him to the door. "The way I'm reading it in the newspaper, you already have an idea of who it is that was at the school. Guy named Derek Hale." Henry glanced back at her briefly before lowering his voice as he spoke to the Sheriff. "He was part of the Hale family, wasn't he? That died in the fire."

"He was, yeah. Right now, he's a suspect, one we really wanna talk to. So just... keep your eyes open, all right?"

"Yeah, of course. Thank you, Sheriff."

They shook hands as the Sheriff left, and then Henry was closing the door, hand still gripped around the handle. After a beat, he turned to look at her. "Think I might go to a meeting. You think you'll be all right here on your own?"

Malia nodded. "Yeah. Definitely."

Grabbing his jacket off the hook by the door, he pulled it on while still eyeing her uncertainly. "Lock the door behind me, all right? With all these weird things happening lately, I don't want to take any chances."

"Sure. I will."

"Okay." He half-smiled. "If you're still up when I get back, maybe we can talk some more about your mom. She had a few wild stories of her own I can tell you."

Malia grinned. "I'd like that."

"All right. I should be a couple hours. The group likes to get coffee and talk after."

"I've got some homework to do, it's fine."

Nodding, he pulled the door open to leave.

Malia listened to his footsteps as he made his way to the truck before she returned to the sink. She finished off the last of the dishes and checked to see if the food was cooled down enough to be put away. While she was lingering at the open fridge door, trying to figure out what she wanted to bring for lunch the next day, light suddenly shone through the front window of her house.

Frowning, Malia turned around. She knew the sound of her dad's truck well enough to know it wasn't him. As she stepped out onto the porch, she stared, slightly confused at finding Stiles' jeep idling in her front yard.

It was Scott that hopped out to meet her, crossing to the bottom of the porch. "Hey..."

"Hi." She rocked back on her heels, nerves suddenly chewing at her stomach. "I thought we were meeting at your place."

"We were." His eyes widened. "Are! I just... Uh... Derek called."

"Oh. Okay...?"

"He says he's got a lead on something, it might help with finding out who the alpha is, he didn't really go into detail." He shook his head. "I think he tried to call you but it rang through. Same thing when Stiles tried."

"I shut my phone off at dinner. My dad wanted to bond or something..."

"Good. That's really good." He smiled, but it quickly dimmed. "I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"No, he left for a meeting." She hugged her arms around herself. "So, Derek has a plan?"

"Right, yeah. He, uh, he was thinking we might be able to help."

"Okay. How?"

Scott half-smiled. "He was hoping we could drive the getaway car."

She snorted. The tension of before quickly started to ebb. Maybe this was okay. They could just put 'them' on the back burner and focus on this. "I'm not even kind of surprised, but I don't think that takes three of us."

Scott shrugged. "No, but I didn't think you'd want to be left out the first time me and Stiles get arrested."

Biting back a smile, she shook her head. "You'd be right." Stepping back inside, she pulled on a pair of boots and a jacket. Pulling the door closed behind her, she crossed the porch. "So, we're driving the getaway car from who exactly?"

"The cops, the Argents, whoever spots us first."

Humming, she hopped down the stairs and walked with him back to the jeep. "And Derek will be where?"

"Interrogating someone somewhere... All he said was that if his car is spotted on one side of town and he's in another, hopefully they'll follow the car and he can do what he needs to." He opened the jeep door and pulled the passenger seat forward for her to access the backseat.

Malia hitched herself up and ducked her head through. Taking a seat in the middle, she rested her elbows on her knees and leaned through the front seats as Scott climbed in after and yanked the door shut with a whining creak. "So, who's driving the Camaro?"

"I've officially been banned from driving it." Stiles rolled his eyes. "He says it has to be one of you two because you have the 'reflexes not to screw it up.' What the hell ever, I'm a great driver!" He pulled out of her driveway so abruptly Malia was briefly thrown back against the seat.

Scott turned to grin at her. "We can take turns."

"I'm not sure anybody chasing us is going to let us pull over to switch."

He shrugged. "Maybe we won't get spotted."

"All right. Flip a coin to see who drives first?"

"Sure." He dug his wallet out of his jeans and pulled out a quarter. "Heads or tails?"

She smirked. "Tails."

…

Derek had them meet in a shadowy parking lot where most of the street lamps were either out or ominously blinking.

"Sometimes I think he does things like this just for the drama," Malia muttered

Stiles snorted. "I would pay real money to hear you say that to him." He pulled the jeep to a stop just in front of the Camaro, where Derek was leaning against the front, hands tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket.

Malia waited as Scott and Stiles climbed out before she pushed the seat forward.

Scott held a hand out to help her down. It was sweet, in the way that Scott was always sweet, which made it that much more awkward given the situation lately. Still, she took his hand, even knowing that she hardly needed his help to balance when she had better reflexes than ever before. He held onto her hand a beat longer than necessary, or maybe that was her brain trying to make something out of nothing.

They circled around the jeep to meet Derek, who was frowning at them.

"It's only a day after the full moon, shouldn't you be lying low?" Scott wondered.

"We don't have time for that. And frankly, this would be a lot easier if someone didn't decide to make me the most wanted fugitive in the entire state."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Okay, I get it, it was a dumbass mistake. But you called us here, so let's just do this."

"Speaking of this, who exactly are you gonna be interrogating?" Stiles' brows hiked. "The last time you interrogated someone, you beat Scott's boss bloody."

"And I'm still not sure he isn't who I'm looking for." Derek shook his head. "Look, the last time I talked to my sister, she was close to figuring something out. She found two things. The first was a guy named Harris—"

"Whoa, wait, our chemistry teacher?"

Scott's brow furrowed. "Why him?"

Derek sighed, frustrated. "I don't know yet. Which is why I'm going to see him. He's still at the school. He works late. And when I drove by, his car was still in the parking lot. I'll drop by his classroom, figure out what he knows about Laura."

Malia hummed. "And you think that'll lead you to the Alpha?"

"I think it's a lead. If Laura was looking into him, then he has to be connected to this somehow. Maybe he knows who the Alpha is or maybe he has a way to find out."

"Or maybe he's the Alpha." Malia shrugged. "He's a dick every other day of the month, wouldn't surprise me if he was a super-dick on the full moon."

"It's possible," Derek admitted. "I won't know until I talk to him."

"So, while you're doing that, we're supposed to get the cop's attention somewhere else?" Stiles nodded. "That could work."

"You could also just sneak into the school and not involve the cops at all," Scott muttered.

"The school has extra security hanging around it after what happened," Derek reminded. "And everybody is on the lookout for me."

"Then maybe you shouldn't be the one that talks to Harris."

Derek shook his head. "It has to be me. If you do it, you expose yourself. If Harris knows anything about Laura or werewolves or the Alpha, then he'll put together that you know too. For all we know, he's a hunter."

"Harris?" Malia snorted. "I know I just said he might be the Alpha, but I was mostly giving credit to the idea that the moon was giving him superhuman strength and speed and bloodlust. If he's human, then he's not exactly hunter material."

"Blending in is what they do. If you didn't know the Argents were hunters, you'd think they were a completely normal family."

"I don't know, personality wise, most of them are pretty intense." Malia frowned. "I like to think Allison is an outlier."

Derek gritted his teeth, impatient, and bit out, "Look, the point is, it's too risky to send any of you in to talk to Harris. It has to be me."

Stiles shrugged his shoulders high. "All right, but I still think we could pull it off with a couple balaclavas and voice distorters."

Derek stared at him. "Did you bring your voice distorter to this meeting?"

"Well, no..."

"Then shut up."

Stiles scowled.

Sighing, Scott stepped forward. "Okay. So, you head to the school and we'll take the Camaro. Is there a meet up place, or do we just come back here after?"

"I'll call you when I'm done. Just keep driving around and don't let them see you." Derek tossed the keys to Malia. "Remember, if they catch you, they're going to want to know what you're doing in my car. They think I murdered at least two people and you're the only witnesses, so they'll have a lot of questions."

Stiles raised a finger, grinned, and rocked back on his heels. "We found it and we were joyriding."

Malia shook her head. "Yeah, I don't know how much your dad will believe that."

"Maybe not, but he can't prove otherwise." Stiles rubbed his hands together. "All right, let's go."

While Scott and Stiles circled the car, standing on either side, Malia waited as Derek made his way over to her. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

He glanced back at Scott and Stiles and then turned to her. "Honestly? No. But I need to do this. Laura thought Harris was worth talking to. And if he can help us figure out who the Alpha is and why they're doing this..."

Malia fiddled with the keys between her fingers. "Just be careful."

"I will." He nodded. "You too, all right?"

She half-smiled. "I'm not wanted for murder."

"Depending on who catches up to you, they might just shoot on sight." He stared at her searchingly. "I know you don't think Allison is one of them—"

"She's not." Malia stared at him firmly. "Whatever her parents are, she isn't like them."

They stood there a moment, a tense silence strung between them.

Finally, he said, "I hope you're right."

It was about as close as she was going to get to approval, she guessed.

Shaking her head, she said, "Hey, you never told us what the other thing Laura found was."

"Oh, right." He dug a piece of paper out of his pocket and held it out to her. "It's some kind of symbol. I'm still trying to track it down."

Malia stared at the paper, a headache already forming at her temple. Glancing at him, she said, "Take a picture, text it to me."

He nodded.

Making her way to the driver's side, she pulled the door open. "If something goes wrong and you need help—"

"I'll get myself out of it." He stared at her seriously. "Don't play hero. Keep them away from me as long as you can, but don't get in the middle if you don't have to."

Malia pursed her lips. "I'm already in the middle." Climbing inside, she yanked the door shut and turned the ignition. When the headlights flooded the area, she could tell Derek was already gone.

"He tell you anything important?" Stiles wondered from the backseat.

Pulling the car out and toward the main road, she nodded, short and sharp. "The other thing Laura found, it was a symbol, and I've seen it before." She glanced at Scott. "So have you."

His brow furrowed. "I have?"

"Yeah. It's the same symbol on Allison's necklace."

Stiles' brows hiked. "What does that mean?"

Malia pressed her foot down on the accelerator. "It means we need to get that necklace."

tbc

author's note: ughhhhhh, i'm sorry for how long this chapter took, and the fact that so much is more transitional than anything. i had a few thousand words written and then i just got busy with work and i was tired and when i did have time, i was distracted with a couple other projects. but, in any case, i'm back. i already have about 3k of the next chapter written and it's coming along nicely.

i purposely kept malia and scott separate for this as i wanted them each to reflect on how different things feel when they're not on the same wavelength. they've been avoiding their feelings for too long and it's time to talk it out and clear things up. which is why we see scott talk to lydia this chapter and make it clear that's not what he wants. why cole comes up to scott and makes sure he knows that cole is not an obstacle anymore. and then we've got henry and deaton both telling scott and malia that they clearly care about each other and should talk things through. so, despite the current distraction of derek's plan, i do have these crazy kids talking next chapter... and i think you'll be pleasantly surprised ;)

coming up next: a car chase, FEEEEELINGS, mallison friendship, jackson proves he is not as stupid as he is douchey, and MIGUEL.

thanks so much for reading, please try to leave a review! i will do my best to get the next chapter up much, much quicker!
- Lee | Fina