word count: 11,750
episode: 1x09 - Wolf's Bane

XXVIII

"You know, I'm suddenly missing Lady Lead Foot over here." Stiles shifted in his seat, peering out the back window of the car. "Scott, I'm not sure you're grasping the concept of the car chase..."

Scott's hands flared up from the steering wheel. "If I go any faster, I'll kill us!"

"Well, if you don't go faster, they're gonna kill us!"

Malia stared at the side mirror, one hand gripping the arm rest of the passenger door while the other was balled up against her thigh. Kate had been chasing them for the last twenty minutes and she wasn't slowing down or giving up. A nervous Scott was doing passably well, but at this speed, the car wasn't exactly easy to maneuver around turns, which was all this road seemed to be. They kept veering off into the dirt before correcting. Thankfully, this part of town was mostly industrial. They were just on the outskirts of the Iron Works, far away from the busier streets of town and any residential areas. It also meant the lighting was shit and half the roads criss-crossed with train tracks, but they were doing all right so far. All things considered, she wasn't a huge fan of high-speed chases.

As Scott pressed down on the accelerator, Malia noticed Kate's headlights veer away from them abruptly. She tracked them as Kate abandoned the chase for some unknown reason.

Stiles caught on too. "They're gone."

Scott pivoted in his seat to look out the back, his brow furrowed. "What? Why?"

Malia frowned. "Maybe she's trying to circle around and cut us off."

Stiles grabbed up the police radio he'd 'borrowed' from his dad and pressed a button.

Sherriff Stilinski's staticky voice filled the car: "All units, suspect is on foot heading into the Iron Works."

Scott turned to Malia, who clenched her teeth. "Turn left up ahead. There's a shortcut."

Nodding, he sped up and took the turn.

Malia tucked her hair behind her ears and tried to focus, to stretch her hearing out to see if she could narrow down where, exactly, Derek was. The sound of popping and whizzing explosives helped. She directed Scott through dark, winding roads before they eventually found themselves driving down narrow alleyways tucked between warehouses, metal and concrete towers, and industrial equipment.

Derek was hidden behind a forklift, exploding arrows raining down from above.

"There." As they pulled to a stop, she shoved the passenger door open.

Stiles shouted, "Get in!" while Malia climbed into the back to sit shoulder to shoulder with him.

Derek leapt up and raced toward the car, crouched under a hail of bullets. He jumped into the car and yanked the door shut as Scott peeled away.

Malia covered Stiles' head with her arm and forced him to duck down. She didn't let him up until the bullets stopped ricocheting off the side of the car and they were racing back onto the open road.

Letting out a heavy sigh of relief, Malia fell back against the seat. "Are you okay?"

Stiles nodded. "Fine. You?"

"Fine." She reached a hand forward and gripped Scott's shoulder. "Scott?"

He covered her hand, his fingertips slotted between her knuckles. "I'm good."

She turned expectantly to Derek then, who nodded shortly.

"I'm fine." His mouth twisted up in a scowl. "I almost had him!"

"Who? The Alpha?" Stiles pushed forward, eyes wide and eager. "He showed up?"

"I didn't even get a chance to talk to Harris. The Alpha was already there." Derek shook his head. "I got in the middle and the Alpha ran. Then the cops showed up." A muscle ticked in his jaw. "If I just had a few more minutes—"

"Hey, they were just doing their jobs," Stiles reminded.

Derek glared back at him.

"How did the Alpha know you were going to talk to Harris?" Malia wondered.

"I don't think he did."

"Well, what'd it do?"

"He... talked to him."

"It can speak? Any chance you recognized their voice?"

"He's not human and he's not a wolf, not exactly. He's like some mutation of the two. His voice was muffled and strange. I don't know how in control he is at any moment. But tonight, he knew what he was doing."

Stiles leaned forward. "So, it's definitely a he then?"

"And definitely not Harris." Scott frowned. "What'll happen to Harris now?"

"Since he was seen with me..." Derek shrugged. "Who knows? The Sheriff will want to know why I was there."

"They'll probably connect it to the other attack." Malia sunk back against the seat. "Either you really hate higher education or maybe Harris was your original target and the janitor and Trisha were just innocent bystanders."

Derek hummed. "Which means they'll have Harris surrounded. Just in case I go after him again."

"Which also means your lead is dead in the water. For now, at least." Stiles sighed. "Now what?"

Malia looked to the rear-view mirror and caught Scott's eye. It meant Allison's necklace just became their main lead.

…

Scott drove everyone back to the dark and suspicious parking lot they'd departed from, where Derek retook control of his now bullet-riddled car while the rest of them climbed into Stiles' jeep.

"Where to first?" Stiles rubbed a fist against his eye and yawned. "I don't know about you guys, but car chases make me sleepy."

Malia cleared her throat. "Scott's."

Stiles glanced at her through the mirror, then looked to Scott, who nodded. "Okay. Scott's it is." He put the jeep in gear; it stuttered to life and then jerked its way toward the road.

Stiles turned the radio on, fiddling with the stations until he found something he liked. The ride was mostly quiet, a lot less stress-inducing than their last one. Malia could scratch 'car chase' off whatever thrill-seeking bucket list she didn't know she was making. Being just barely a step ahead of Kate Argent wasn't exactly something she wanted to do again. She knew it was Kate; she'd caught sight of her a few times. Just like Malia knew it was Chris Argent that was shooting at them. And come tomorrow, she was supposed to be staying over at Allison's for a girls' night... Wasn't that going to be fun?

Before she knew it, Stiles was idling in front of the familiar face of the McCall house. After Scott hopped out, Malia followed. She considered asking for a rain check on their conversation, but she had a feeling she would just end up back home, wondering about everything that was and wasn't said. And if tonight taught her anything, it was that they were better off working as a team than avoiding each other.

She looked back at Stiles. "I'm good here. I can call my dad for a ride home after his meeting."

"Sure?" He raised an eyebrow and looked between them.

"Yeah. I'll text you later."

"Okay." He drummed his hands on the steering wheel. "See you tomorrow."

"Night." She closed the door and stepped back, watching the headlights bounce as he backed out of the driveway.

It wasn't until Stiles was well on his way that Malia turned to face Scott. "No Melissa?"

"Working tonight." He tucked his hands in his pockets and started for the porch stairs. "How was dinner with your dad?"

"Good. He was weirdly nostalgic. He kept telling me stories about when he was a teenager."

"Yeah? Anything like what we're dealing with?"

"Not quite that crazy. He did break into some abandoned building though. Him and his friends thought it was haunted, so they snuck in to have a look around. The groundskeeper showed up and caught them. They ran off before he could call the cops and have them arrested for trespassing."

"You think it was actually haunted?"

She shrugged. "I think they freaked each other out more than anything."

"Guess that's the fun part. It's a little weirder now, knowing werewolves are real." He shook his head. "Makes you wonder what else is out there."

Reminded of her earlier talk with Allison, Malia smiled. "Yeah, maybe there's an Abominable Snowman in the woods."

He snorted. "Not exactly the best climate for him."

They lingered near the front door for a moment, with Scott awkwardly rubbing at his neck. "Are you hungry or...?"

"Not really."

"Okay. Do... Is it okay if we talk in my room or...?"

She nodded. "Sure."

She followed him upstairs, a weight on her shoulders that was all uncertainty. She'd been in Scott's bedroom a thousand times before, but it felt different now. After everything that happened, every state he had seen her in lately, there was a new tension to everything. One that left her feeling like she was splitting at the seams.

"Oh, hey, before I forget, Deaton was hoping you could bring Shiloh in soon. He wants to check out her leg, see how she's healing."

Malia nodded. "Okay, yeah. I, uh, I'm supposed to hang out with Allison tomorrow. Maybe we'll bring Shiloh in after school. Or if Stiles doesn't mind, I could drop her off in the morning."

"After school? Are you coming to the game?"

Malia's brows hiked. "There's a game?"

He half-smiled. "Quarter finals."

"Oh. Sure. Allison will probably want to go anyway."

"Okay." Scott nodded. "Do you think you'll get the necklace tomorrow too?"

Sighing, she took a seat on the edge of his bed. "I don't know. I know it's important. That it's a clue and we need to figure out how it all fits, but... There's only two ways I do this. Either I ask for it or I steal it. And if I ask for it, she'll wonder why. But if I don't, I have to steal from her and... I don't want to. I know Derek thinks she's destined to follow in her family's footsteps, but I don't think she is. I know Allison and she's a good person."

"You don't think good people can do bad things?"

"Philosophical." She half-smiled at him. "You're a good person, Scott."

"Not always. Not lately." He took a seat next to her, but left space between them, not a lot but it still felt gaping wide somehow. "I know I apologized already, but—"

"You don't owe me an apology for what happened with Lydia. You don't owe me anything about that. I'm just happy it's not messing up your friendship with Stiles. I know he was pretty upset."

"He was, and I'm really lucky he forgave me." Scott leaned back. "And maybe I don't owe you an apology, but I think I owe you an explanation."

She turned a little more to see him better. "For what?"

"For last night... and for Saturday."

She shook her head. "The moon—"

"Heightens things. It makes everything more... Just more. I think what happened with Lydia was that she was attracted to me, to something she saw in me, and I... I could feel that. I could taste it. On a normal day, I don't think it would've done anything to me. I'm not... I don't have any feelings for Lydia. I don't really know her except for what you and Stiles have told me. But that day, I... I felt vulnerable. I was upset and worried and I asked her a question and I didn't really get the answer I wanted. So, then I was even more upset, and I feel like I reached a threshold, you know?"

"What'd you ask her?"

Scott took a deep breath. "On Saturday, in that bathroom, I almost kissed you." He raised his eyes to meet hers. "I wanted to kiss you."

Malia swallowed tightly. She felt an uncomfortable heat flush through her. What if he'd put the pieces together and realized that he'd picked up on her want? Just like with Lydia. That the attraction he felt in the moment wasn't his own at all. "Scott—"

"And it's not the first time."

She blinked. "What?" Her voice was a strangled, surprised croak.

Scott sat a little taller, but his hands were balled up tight in his lap, a show of nerves. "Saturday was just the first time I did anything about it. The first time I didn't feel anything holding me back. And it was..." He shook his head. "In the moment, it felt good. Honest. Like I was free, in a way. But after, when I realized how uncomfortable you were, how I basically cornered you, then it all came flooding back, and it wasn't about being free or honest, it was putting you in this really shitty position where—"

"Scott, stop."

He winced. "I never want to hurt you. I never want to make you feel like you owe me anything. That night—"

"You weren't the only one in that bathroom."

"I know."

"I don't think you do." Malia chewed her lip. "I didn't stop you—"

"You shouldn't have to!"

"—because I didn't want to."

He stuttered to a stop. "Huh?"

Her gaze fell to his chest. "That night, when I first saw you, I was scared. Not of you, for you. You were just so out of it, like your body was there but your mind was somewhere else. Then you were hiding out in the bathroom, and I thought I could talk you down. But when I went in there, it was like it was you and not you and I... I didn't know what that meant."

"Neither did I."

"So, when you got closer, when you were saying all those things... I wasn't sure if it was you or the wolf. I'm still not sure."

His lips pressed flat together. "It was the wolf."

Her heart plummeted.

"And it wasn't."

She looked up at him. "What's that mean?"

"I felt... bolder, I guess. Like I could do all the things I was afraid to do before." He stared at her. "I went there looking for you because you make me feel safe. You ground me. And you did exactly what I thought you would. You anchored me. But then you left, just for a minute, and I was talking to Cole, and he said something that just set me off again. And the more I talk about this, the more I realize that I have a lot of control issues I need to figure out."

She snorted. "Yeah, well, I shift into a wild animal against my will, so, me too."

He half-smiled and looked a little lighter for it. "Lia... I—"

Her phone started buzzing, drawing her attention to her pocket. When she dug it out, she realized it was her dad. "Hold on a second." She stood from the bed and answered it, walking to Scott's desk to fiddle with a random pen lying around. "Hey."

"Hi. I'm just leaving the diner. I picked us each up a slice of pie, too. Do we have any ice cream at home?"

"I don't know. And I can't really check. I'm actually at Scott's. I was hoping you could pick me up from here."

"Scott's, huh?"

The knowing ring to his voice made Malia's face feel noticeably warm. "Dad."

"All right. I'm gonna grab a carton of French Vanilla first and then I'll come get you. And hey! No hanky-panky."

"Oh my God, I'm hanging up."

He chuckled. "I'll see you soon."

Tucking her phone away, Malia pivoted to face Scott once more, who was staring down at the bed spread, his brow furrowed. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." He looked up at her. "Yesterday, after everything happened, I asked you if I hurt you and you told me to wait until the moon wore off..." He stood from the bed and wiped his hands down his jeans. "So... Did I hurt you?"

Malia licked her lips and looked away. Her throat felt tight, overcrowded with words she wanted to say but wasn't sure she could or should. "Lately, I feel like everything hurts. I know I'm stronger than I've ever been, but I somehow feel weaker than ever before." She shook her head. "And I don't want to be. I don't want to feel this way all the time, but I do. And it's not... It isn't anybody's fault, really. Or maybe it's mine for wanting things to be different."

"What things?"

"Just..." She sighed. "Things."

Scott reached for her, his fingers gently skimming her arm and sliding down to her wrist. "Malia..." He took her hand and folded their fingers together. "What things? Be specific."

She clenched her teeth together. "I..."

He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles and smiled encouragingly.

She took a deep breath and let the words burst from her, unfiltered. "I wish you didn't kiss Lydia. That you didn't date Allison. That I wasn't with Cole. That... That I wasn't a werecoyote and you weren't a werewolf and some psychotic asshole wasn't hunting us."

"Okay." He nodded. "Some of those things aren't your fault. They aren't even something you can control. They happened and there was nothing we could really do to stop it." He tugged on her hand. "And some of those things are on me. Those are my responsibilities, not yours. Those are mistakes I made."

Malia shook her head. "You liked Allison. You had every right to want something—"

"But it wasn't fair to her. Not really."

"What wasn't?"

"Being with her... when I knew I wanted to be with you."

Malia's heart climbed up into her throat. Her eyes felt warm as she stared at him. "Scott..."

"I need to say this. I should've said it a lot time ago, but I was scared. I'm still scared. Because you're my best friend. You're..." He shook his head. "You're my anchor. And I don't just mean that you keep me from shifting. I mean that whenever things are rough or complicated or scary, I know you'll be there. And I need that. I need you. I never wanted to risk that. But that was also when I thought you didn't like me the same way. That you saw me the same way you saw Stiles. And maybe you do, maybe I'm reading this totally wrong, but... I don't think I am. I can be pretty dumb sometimes, but... I think maybe you like me as much as I like you. Or pretty close at least."

Malia could feel her hands shaking, but Scott only held on tighter.

"Tell me I'm wrong." He searched her eyes. "Tell me to let go or stop and I will. I'll take it back and we can just be friends, best friends, and forget I ever said anything. But if you do, if you... If you care about me even a little more than a friend, then—"

Malia stepped closer, enough that they were chest to chest; enough that she could feel every breath he took. "You're my best friend. You… You make me feel strong and safe, more than anybody ever has. And I won't lose that. I can't lose that."

"Okay." He reached his free hand up and cupped her cheek, thumb gently stroking across the arch. "Okay."

Malia stared into his eyes, one of her hands lifting to rest against his chest, against a heart she could hear thumping loudly in her ears. "Your heart is pounding."

He smiled. "So is yours."

She swallowed tightly. "I'm nervous."

He stepped closer, despite a lack of room to take up. She slid her hand up to his shoulder as their fronts flattened together. She could feel his breath warm against her mouth. Every inhale was filled with his scent.

Scott tucked her hair back, behind her ear. His gaze dropped to her mouth before raising to meets hers once more. "I was nervous too."

"And now you aren't?" Her brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Because it's you." He smiled slowly. "It's us. And even when things go wrong... we make it work. We always do." The tips of his fingers gently slid down her neck. "So even if, somehow, we mess this up or we don't work out, we'll be okay."

"How do you know?"

"You remember what you said last night?"

"Which part?"

"That you love me." He smiled. "That you always will, and nothing will ever change that."

Malia's heart lurched up into her throat and swelled. "Yeah," she whispered.

"That's how I feel."

"You're saying that now. Before the relationship drama. Before one of us says or does something wrong and runs away. Before we have some shitty, emotional break up and we have to share custody of Stiles. Before-"

"Malia, I turned into a werewolf and you barely flinched."

"That's not true. I flinched. I flinched a lot. I was constantly scared—"

"But you never left. You stuck with me. You fought the Alpha for me. You saved my life. You brought me back. You always bring me back." He caught her chin with his thumb and raised it. "Hey... I know you. I know who you are. I know you're scared. That we'll mess this up. That you'll lose me... That I'll leave."

She winced. "I know you wouldn't. Not on purpose. But..."

"But the fear is still there. I get it. I feel it too." He shook his head. "But that's not us. We stay and we fight, because we're partners. And we can do that as friends. But I think we can do it as more too. We might even be better at it."

She snorted. "Yeah? Better how?"

He grinned. As he leaned forward to show her how, the flash of headlights bounced across the room, drawing their eye.

Malia frowned. "That would be my dad."

Scott nodded. "I can hear his radio... Country, huh?"

Malia rolled her eyes. "It's his favorite."

He chuckled under his breath and looked back at her. "Maybe this is a good thing."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "How's that?"

"You can think. Figure out if this is what you want. Or if you wanna wait or..." He shrugged. "I just want you to be sure."

Malia stared at him a long beat. "I—"

A horn honked from below and Malia groaned. "I should go."

"Okay."

She hesitated a moment before leaning in and wrapping her arms around him. She hooked her chin over his shoulder and balled his shirt up in her fingers.

Scott folded an arm around her waist. Turning his face down, he tucked it in the crook of her shoulder. His fingers gently brushed through her hair and down her neck. "We're okay."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "No matter what."

A beat passed, and another. She knew she was lingering, but she didn't want to let go.

It was only the buzz of her phone against her hip that reminded her that her dad was waiting. Slowly, she let him go, stepped back, and hurried out the door. Her skin felt warm, her heart both heavy and light. She was a see-saw of feeling and she had no idea which end she was sitting on. Everything around her seemed like a blur as she left his house, crossed the driveway, and hopped into her dad's truck.

"Hey." He eyed her a moment. "Are you okay?"

"Mm-hmm." She nodded, her throat tight.

He stared a moment longer before turning the truck around and heading back to the road.

They drove in silence for a long time, not even the familiar noise of the radio to help things along.

Malia stared out the window, a fog of trees and buildings passing them by. "How was your meeting?"

"Good. Really good." He shifted around in his seat. "I talk about you sometimes."

She turned to him. "Really?"

"Yeah. Well, it's a lot of talking. A lot of sharing your life with people you don't know all that well. There's a lot of asking yourself why you do what you do, so you don't repeat the same mistakes." He took a deep breath and drummed a hand across the steering wheel anxiously.

"Seems pretty obvious though, don't you think? The 'why,' I mean."

"Yeah. Seems pretty cut and dry." He cleared his throat. "Thing is, that might've been the last straw, but it wasn't everything."

Malia frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... Not everybody who loses their family buries themselves in a bottle. Some people have better coping skills. They reach out, do what they have to so they can stay afloat. And I didn't. I... I let myself drown. Think I pulled you down with me sometimes."

"Dad—"

"Hold on. I... I'm not at the making amends stage yet. I don't even think you're ready to hear that, and that's fine. But going to these meetings, hearing other people talk about their experiences, what got 'em there, and what's helped them change... It's done a lot of good for me. Makes me think more. And when I start reflecting, I realize that there were opportunities that I missed. Maybe even that I outright ignored. People who reached out, who wanted to help, and I didn't take it. But I should've. If not for me, then because you deserved it."

Malia's gaze fell to her lap. "Why didn't you?"

"Well, that's the thing, right? What makes an addict an addict?" He frowned out at the road. "I wasn't much of a drinker before this. Never tried any hard drugs. Smoked some weed when I was a teenager, that wasn't so bad. But I reserved drinking for parties, a beer or two at a BBQ, glass of wine if your mom was feeling fancy and said we had to share the bottle..." He coughed to clear his throat, though it seemed more like a chance to pause or stall. "My dad drank… We never really talked about it. Wasn't what our family did. We weren't talkers. It was... Well, it was easier, I guess. He was never… He wasn't like me. He didn't hide like I did. He came home from work, grabbed a beer from the fridge, sat himself down by the radio, and that's where he stayed. He'd drink himself right to sleep, get up in the morning, go to work; rinse and repeat. As a kid, I noticed. My dad wasn't ashamed of his drinking. It was just how things were. I find myself wondering sometimes why he did it. What he was trying to escape from. He was a soldier once, went to war, saw things I probably couldn't imagine. So, maybe it was that. Or maybe he was just doing what he saw his dad do..." He nodded. "Rinse and repeat."

Surprise welled up inside her. He'd shared so much and she wasn't sure she'd fully absorbed all of it. "You don't talk about grandpa much."

"He died not long after you were born. His liver went. Surprised he made it that long."

"And grandma?"

"She died a couple years later. Breast cancer." He swallowed tightly. "She was a good person. Really good. I wish you could've known her."

"Me too."

"I, uh..." He scrubbed a hand over his head, nervously. "I don't want you to be like me, honey. I don't want you to ever feel like... like the only way to get through things is to bury them or hide. That's no way to live. And you deserve better than that. You always have. Better than I've been to you. Better than what I learned."

Malia stared at his profile a long moment. "I'm not great with feelings. I get... awkward. And sometimes I do run. Because I'm scared of being hurt or rejected or... forgotten." She chewed her lip. "But I'm trying to be better."

"Good." His voice turned raspy. "That's really good. All we can do sometimes is try." Nodding, he rubbed a hand over his face. "Hey, I tell you I picked up some pie? They make a really good strawberry rhubarb there, I think you'll like it."

Malia recognized the change of subject for what it was, but she didn't mind. "You picked up the ice cream?"

"French Vanilla." He glanced at her, mouth hitched up in a faint smile. "How was Scott?"

Malia's face warmed and she turned back to the window. "He's good."

"Yeah? You two talk things out?"

"Mm-hmm." She shifted around in her seat. "Hey, that reminds me, I need to bring Shiloh in tomorrow for a check-up. I was gonna see if Stiles or Allison could drive me in the morning. But after school, Scott and Stiles have a lacrosse game and Allison was hoping I could stay over at her place, so picking her up might be a problem."

"I can do it."

Malia looked back at him. "Really?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "I might drop by the lacrosse game too, if you don't mind. I can catch up with Melissa, so don't worry about me embarrassing you."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not worried."

"Good. Anyway, Shiloh's family. I'll help where I can."

Gratitude and relief warmed her chest. "Thanks."

…

Malia sat at her desk, her homework spread out in front of her, chewing on the end of a pencil. It was late. Way later than she wanted it to be. But she had homework coming out of her ears and she needed it done. Occasionally, it occurred to her how strange it was that a few months ago, school would have been the most stressful thing in her life, now homework was just one more thing on top of a towering pile of stress.

Leaning back in her desk chair, Malia stretched her arms high above, tipping her head side to side to try and loosen up the muscles there. With a tired sigh, she let her arms fall, and her gaze moved to the peanut butter and honey sandwich sitting forgotten on a plate. Picking it up, she scrunched her nose at how dry the bread felt under her fingers. With a shrug, she took a bite, hoping for the best, but only came back with a mouthful of too-stale bread. Dropping the sandwich back onto the plate, she frowned.

A shuffling noise caught her attention and she turned her head.

Shiloh was under the bed, inching herself out, bit by bit. She'd been skittish for a while now and it broke Malia's heart.

Turning her chair slowly, so not to spook her, Malia grabbed up the sandwich and held it out. "You want a bite, Shi? Huh?"

Shiloh went still, gaze bouncing between Malia and the sandwich.

Sliding herself off the chair, Malia fell to her knees on the carpet. "Mmm, peanut butter... your favorite."

Shiloh inched out a little more, sniffing at the air eagerly.

Malia dropped down further, so she was on her stomach, resting on her elbows. "You better hurry up or I'll eat it all myself." She pretended to bring the sandwich closer to her mouth.

Yipping, Shiloh wiggled out quicker and stood up. She came right up to Malia and sniffed at the sandwich in her hand, looking at her hopefully.

Grinning, Malia tilted her fingers out. "Go ahead."

Shiloh carefully took the sandwich between her teeth and then threw her head back to draw it deeper into her mouth, chewing inelegantly. Tail still swinging, she turned her attention to Malia's fingers, licking away any residual peanut butter.

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Malia scrubbed her fingers around Shiloh's ear. "I don't bite."

Shiloh's tail thumped cheerfully, her fear forgotten, and a little piece of Malia's heart mended.

…

"Are you gonna tell me what happened that has you looking like you just stepped off cloud 9?" Stiles frowned. "I thought you'd be freaking out about this necklace thing. I still don't know how Malia's going to get it from Allison. If I'm being honest, I'm a little worried she might just go with the truth. I know we're mostly pro-Allison these days, but I've still got some reservations. I mean, even if she decides she doesn't want you or Malia to be a throw rug in the living room, how do we know she won't accidentally let it slip to her dad?"

Scott glanced at him. "Huh?"

Stiles threw his hands up, offended and impatient. "Are you serious? Did you hear anything I said?"

"Something about Allison and a throw rug...?" His brow furrowed. "Or not? That doesn't really make sense."

"Okay. I need you to focus, all right? You've been goofy and dopey all morning, but we're running out of time here. We need to get that necklace to find out if there's anything on or in it that could lead us to an alpha werewolf that we need to kill so life can get back to normal… or at least less murder-y. And to do that, we need to know if Malia is going to just—" He shrugged his shoulders to his ears and made his eyes wide. "—ask Allison to borrow her necklace! Or if she's going to steal it; the far superior idea here. We need a plan."

Scott nodded. "Right. A plan. Okay." He paused. "She doesn't want to steal it."

"Well, maybe it's not stealing. Maybe it's borrowing. Huh?" Stiles nodded encouragingly. "You think she'd go for that?"

Scott frowned skeptically.

"Yeah, me either." He sighed. All right, what if she doesn't steal it or borrow it? What if you do? Or maybe I do it?" His brow furrowed thoughtfully. "On the one hand, having one of you guys steal it means you'll be able to hear anyone coming. On the other, should you be stealing from a house of hunters?"

"Plus, what if she, like, only takes it off in the shower or something? How do we steal it then? We can't just hide out in her house, waiting for the chance to take it."

Stiles chewed on his thumbnail. "Then we're back to Malia just asking for it."

"What if she asks for it and Allison says no?" At Stiles' unconvinced stare, Scott sighed. "Malia wouldn't let anyone borrow her necklace."

"Yeah, but that's because it was Kylie's. If it was just some random necklace, she wouldn't care."

"Malia said Allison got hers from her Aunt Kate."

Snapping his fingers, Stiles pointed at him. "Who's a hunter who previously accused you of stealing... which you did, but still. She's already suspicious of you, so you definitely can't go back to that house."

Groaning, Scott threw his head back. "I was having a good morning. Why'd you have to ruin it?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "You still haven't told me why it was good to begin with."

A slow, goofy smile pulled at Scott's mouth. "I talked to Malia."

"So? You talk to her every day. Probably more than you should. There should definitely be more room in your day for talking to other people. Like me. I'm people."

"Yeah, but this time we talked." He hooked his thumbs in the straps of his bag and turned around, walking backwards down the hall as he faced Stiles. "She likes me."

Stiles stumbled to a stop. "Wh-What? I... She said... I mean, you finally— What else did she say? What'd you say? Did you kiss? Wait! Do I want to know that?" He paused, considered it, then tipped his head. "Yeah, I wanna know. Not like... explicit details. But tell me how it happened. Where'd it happen? Who said it first?"

Scott laughed. "At my house, after you dropped us off."

"What!? And I missed it." He waved his hands. "Never mind, keep talking."

"I don't know. We just talked. I apologized again, for what happened at the party and for Lydia..." He grimaced. "I tried to explain why I think it happened, what I was feeling, and how the moon affected all of that. And then I just... I told her that I wanted to kiss her that night at the party... and it wasn't the first time I'd felt that way. I told her that yeah, it was partly the moon, but mostly it was just letting me do what I've always wanted to do. It was like I couldn't feel anything stopping me. Before, I was always afraid I'd do or say something wrong and I'd lose her. I never wanted to risk that, so I didn't do anything. But that night... it was like I forgot why I always held back."

"What'd she say?"

"Well, her dad called."

"Mood killer."

"It was okay. I asked her if I hurt her and this time she answered." He took a deep breath. "I did. I think we both did. And we regret that, kind of. I mean, I like Allison, but it always kind of felt wrong. She was great, I just wasn't a hundred percent invested."

"Kinda hard to be when you're in love with someone else."

Scott half-smiled. "Yeah."

"So, what happened?"

"We're gonna wait."

Stiles' eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "What!?"

"Not long," he defended. "I just want her to think about it without me there. It's kind of big. I mean, she's my best friend."

Stiles cleared his throat.

"She's one of my best friends," Scott corrected good-naturedly. "And if we do this, I don't want her to regret it. So, I thought we should wait, just until she was sure."

"What'd she say?"

"Her dad showed up. But... I think it'll be okay."

"So, no kiss? Nothing?" Stiles looked plainly disappointed. "Not even a little peck on the cheek."

Scott laughed under his breath. "We hugged. Does that count?"

Stiles scoffed. "You hug all the time." Stopping at his locker, he shrugged his backpack off.

Scott ducked his head a little, hiding a smile as he continued down the hall.

Maybe they did. Maybe it was just one hug of many. But he felt good. He felt really good. And he wasn't going to let anything bring him down.

…

It was too early in Malia's opinion. School should definitely start later in the day... and end earlier too. But it was worth it to make sure Shiloh made it to her check-up.

Allison choked on a laugh. "Did you just stick butter in your bra?"

Malia shrugged. Allison had detoured to a drive-through coffee place and Malia paid extra for a carrot muffin. "They always give you cold butter and it doesn't spread; it just ruins the muffin. This way, my body heat warms it up."

Allison stared at her a beat and then shook her head. "Okay, I'm mildly impressed."

"Thanks, I have selective genius." Sipping at her coffee, Malia stared out the window, frowning as she noticed a frizzy blonde head in the distance. "Hey, I think that's Erica... Would you be okay giving her a ride?"

Allison glanced at her and then to the lone girl on the sidewalk. "Yeah. We can do that." She tapped her blinker, checked behind her, and pulled the car over, slowing down as Malia lowered her window.

Malia let out a sharp whistle, smiling as Erica jumped and turned around.

The look on Erica's face was somewhere between ready to yell and slightly frightened. Realizing it was Malia, that all melted away. She let out a gusty sigh and rolled her eyes. "I thought you were some jerk cat-calling me."

Malia winked. "Who says I'm not?"

Erica snorted.

"You want a ride? I have it on good authority that Allison doesn't run over dogs anymore, so we should be fine."

Allison laughed. "Rude." She leaned over to see Erica better. "Seriously though, hop in."

Erica hesitated only a second before shrugging her bag off and reaching for the back door. "Thanks. I was pretty sure I was gonna be late."

Allison smiled. "Happy to." She pulled back on the road. "How've you been?"

"All right, I guess." Erica hugged her arms around her bag and shrugged. "Still feels kind of weird being at school."

Malia hummed. "We could start a girl band and call it PTSD."

Erica snorted. "Our first song will be 'Werewolf in Video2C.'"

Allison smiled, but her brow furrowed.

Malia watched her a beat and then looked back at Erica. "Do you play any instruments or are we strictly a cappella?"

Erica shrugged. "What's the trio version of a barbershop quartet?"

Malia blinked. "Sad."

"Hm. I guess if Lydia joins, we have four."

"Fine," Malia muttered. "But she's Posh Spice."

"Which one are you?"

"Scary. Allison is Sporty and you're Baby."

"Because I'm the youngest or because I'm blonde?"

"Because this is a post-Ginger world. We're not as good without her, but we wish her the best."

Allison giggled.

Fiddling with her phone, Erica shifted forward in her seat and held her it out.

Malia grinned as the familiar strains of 'Wannabe' filled the SUV. It was still too early, and she wasn't looking forward to school, but this kind of made up for it.

…

Scott stood at his locker, going through his books for next period, when his locker door was suddenly slammed. Startled, he looked up to find a smirking Jackson staring back at him.

"I know what you are, McCall."

Wide-eyed, Scott managed a strangled, "What?"

"I know what you are."

Scott shook his head, still feeling like a deer caught in headlights. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Not the least bit convinced, Jackson merely nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you do. And, uh, here's the thing, however it is you came to be what you are, you're gonna get it for me too."

"Get what for you?"

"Whatever it is. A bite—"

Scott felt his heart lurch up into his throat, his gaze bouncing around nervously.

"—a scratch. Sniffing magic fairy dust under the moonlight. I don't care. You're gonna get it for me, or, uh…" He grabbed Scott's chin and turned his head so he was facing Malia and Allison standing down the hall together. "You won't be the only one I expose."

Scott's brow furrowed as he quickly looked back at Jackson, who grinned knowingly.

"Yeah, that's right. I know she's just like you. Just like I know that you'll do anything to keep her safe." He took a step back then, confident his threat would land. "Hurry up, McCall. I'm not what you'd call patient."

As Jackson walked off down the hall, Scott stared after him, one word screaming repeatedly in his head— fuck.

…

"Quarter-finals?" Allison's brow furrowed. "I'm guessing since it has a special title that it's important?"

Malia shrugged. "I guess. To be honest, I didn't pay much attention when Scott and Stiles were just warming the bench."

"And… you're okay with that? I mean, you want to go to the game?" Allison stared at her searchingly. "This isn't like… I don't know, some weird attempt to play cool when you're secretly completely heartbroken?"

A slow grin pulled at Malia's mouth. "I'm okay."

"Okay-okay or just okay?"

"Is there a difference?"

"One means you're eating your weight in ice cream and the other means you've managed the quickest recovery from heartbreak I've ever heard of." Allison's brow raised teasingly. "Which is both impressive and something we should market worldwide if it's real."

Rolling her eyes, Malia hooked her arm through Allison's and turned her down the hall so they could walk to their class. "We talked and… we figured some stuff out."

"Stuff like why he was kissing Lydia?"

Malia winced. "Yeah… He apologized for that, even though I told him he really didn't owe me anything. I mean, we weren't together, and we didn't really know how the other person felt, and—"

Allison's brows hiked. "Wait, are you saying you talked like, you told him how you feel?"

Standing a little taller, Malia nodded. "I did. And… he did too."

"And now you're…?"

"Waiting."

Allison came to an abrupt stop, forcing Malia to swing around so they were facing one another. "Waiting?"

Malia nodded. "It was a lot to take in and I was kind of nervous about what it would mean if we were together so he said maybe we should wait… Until I'm sure."

"You're not sure?" Allison frowned. "I don't want to poke holes because it sounds like you guys made some serious progress but… You've been friends forever and you've been pining probably half as long—"

"Pining is a strong word."

"It's an accurate one."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Fine. We've been pining. And now we're not."

"No, you're waiting. Even though you've been waiting this whole time, so it mostly just feels like avoiding the inevitable." Starting to walk again, Allison tugged her along. "So, how will you know?"

"Know what?"

"That you're ready. That the waiting and pining and endless suffering can finally end!"

Snorting, Malia shrugged. "I don't know."

Groaning, Allison shook her head. "Can I give you some advice?"

"I don't think I could stop you."

They came to a stop just short of the classroom door, where the last of their classmates were hustling inside. Dropping Malia's arm, Allison pivoted to her, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Life is short. People are dying, we're outrunning mass-murderers and mountain lions way too often… So, maybe instead of being afraid of something and someone you already know is good, you should embrace it. Stop second-guessing yourself."

Malia nodded slowly.

"Okay. And, just so we're clear…" Allison's brows hiked. "I'm an expert marksman with a bow and arrow… If he kisses anyone while you two are officially dating, just say the word and… bullseye."

...

Scott and Stiles burst through a door into a busy hallway, anxiety pouring off of them.

"How the hell did he find out?" Stiles wondered.

"I have no idea."

"Did he say it out loud? The word?"

"What word?"

"Werewolf. Did he say, 'I know you're a werewolf?'"

Panicked, Scott shot a look around the hall to make sure nobody overheard. "No, but he implied it pretty freaking clearly."

"Okay, maybe it's not as bad as it seems." Stiles waved his hands around anxiously. "I mean, he doesn't have any proof, right? And if he wanted to tell someone, who's gonna believe him anyway?"

Scott's eyes widened incredulously. "What if he tells Lydia who tells Allison who tells her dad?"

"Okay, it's bad." Stiles rubbed a hand over his head.

"Yeah, it's bad. What am I gonna do?"

"Well, you can't help Jackson become a werewolf, that's for sure," Stiles decided. "He'd be the worst. He's already the worst. He doesn't need help!"

"He knows that Malia is like me. I don't know how, but he does." Scott scrubbed his hands over his face. "We should find her. She should know what's going on."

"And we will. But listen, I have a plan." Stiles pulled Scott to a stop. "Okay, where's Derek?"

"Hiding, probably. Why?"

"We're gonna need him. My idea's gonna take a little time and finesse though, so it's fine for now."

Scott's brow furrowed. "We have that game tonight. It's quarter-finals. And it's your first game."

"I know, I know. Look, find Malia, figure out what her plan is with Allison. She needs to get that necklace." He patted Scott's chest as he started walking away. "Today."

Scott stared after him a beat, tapping his fingers against his thigh, before turning on his heel.

He needed to find Malia.

…

Scott had been looking for Malia for what felt like forever but was probably only ten minutes. Maybe it was his frayed nerves, but he was having trouble tracking her scent. Spotting Allison and Lydia in the distance, he gathered up his courage and approached.

"—just think the silent treatment is a little juvenile. Don't you?"

Allison rolled her eyes as she continued walking down the hall, steps ahead of Lydia.

Lydia hurried to keep up, her heels clacking on the floor. "Obviously you're upset. If I'd known you still had feelings for him, I never would've-"

Allison whipped around to face her, hair swinging around her shoulders. Lydia stumbled to a stop as Allison pinned her with a look.

Lydia stood, wide-eyed, before gathering up her courage and raising her chin. "Fighting over a boy is so cliché. I'd like to think we're move evolved than that. So, can we please just—"

Scott came to a stop a few feet away. "Uhh... Hi?"

Frowning, Allison turned to him. Her expression was frosty, to say the least. She hugged her books to her chest in one arm and waited impatiently.

Nervously shifting from one foot to the other, Scott kept his gaze purposely focused on Allison. "Have you seen Malia? I called and texted but I haven't heard back from her... It's kind of serious."

Allison pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not her keeper. If she wanted to talk to you, she would."

Scott winced. "What happened... We talked about that. We figured it out. This isn't about that."

Allison tilted her head, unmoved.

"Really." He glanced at Lydia quickly. "It was a mistake."

Lydia scoffed. "I'll say."

"Please, Allison? I really need to talk to her."

Allison chewed the inside of her cheek. Looking away, she shrugged. "She'll be in class by now. After that, I think she said she was having lunch with Danny." With that, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Lydia stared after her a beat before turning a sour look on Scott. "This is all your fault."

Scott shook his head. "I'll take responsibility for my part in what happened. That's the best I can do."

Lydia's eyes narrowed before eventually, with a dismissive noise, she walked away.

Scott walked in the opposite direction. He wasn't feeling particularly patient, but he could wait for lunch… probably.

...

"He hit you over the head?" Malia tapped her yogurt spoon against her mouth. They were having lunch outside, but entirely too far away from the pleasant shade of her tree. Danny wanted sun, apparently, and had dragged her out to the lacrosse field. As if she wouldn't be seeing more than enough of it that night. "Did it leave a mark?"

"No, not really." Danny frowned. "At least I don't think so. If it did, it's under my hair so…" He shrugged it off. "Whatever."

"Not whatever. You said you were unconscious."

"Yeah, but for like… a minute." He shrugged. "Anyway, Adam kissed it better."

"Your grossly perfect relationship is gross." Malia unfolded her legs and stretched them out before dragging her bag into her lap to rifle around inside for something else to munch on. "You're okay though? No headaches or spotty vision or anything? You're not going to suddenly collapse and die on me, all dramatic like?"

"I've taken worse hits. I had my helmet on and I got checked out." He grinned knowingly. "The mother-henning is appreciated though."

"This is not mother-henning. I don't hen," she defended, squinting her eyes at him. "I'm simply asking as a concerned friend to make sure your brain didn't get squished."

"It's unsquished." Danny stared at her a beat. "How about you?"

"What about me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I got a call from Jackson last night… He was pretty pissed. Said something about Lydia and Scott making out…?"

Malia pulled a face. "I know."

"And?"

"And it was a mistake. He regrets it and…" She shook her head. "And we talked. About, you know, feelings or whatever."

Stifling his amusement, Danny nodded. "Or whatever."

Groaning, Malia leaned back until she was laying sprawled out on the grass. "Why do all my friends care so much about my love life?"

"Are you saying you actually have one?"

"Hey! I had Cole… Briefly… Kind of."

Chuckling, Danny shifted until he was laid out next to her, his hands stacked on his chest. "And we both know how that ended… and started… and who you really wanted to be with."

Malia turned her head to see him. "He likes me. Scott. More than likes me, maybe."

He made his eyes wide with fake surprise. "Shocker."

"Shut up." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Allison says I should stop worrying and just let it happen. She also offered to shoot him with an arrow though."

Danny hummed. "Did you tell him you like him too?"

"Yeah… We almost kissed."

"The dreaded 'almost.'"

"My dad interrupted."

"Are you glad he did?"

"I don't know. Maybe." She chewed her lip. "I don't want to rush it but I also kind of feel like it wouldn't be rushed at all." Her brow furrowed. "I just don't want to screw it up."

"You know the secret to that?"

Malia frowned. "Hit me with it."

"Trying."

She blinked. "Seriously?"

"It sounds simple, but it's not. You have to try and so does he and if one of you stops, then you step back, re-evaluate. But if you want it, if you really want to give it a chance, then you try your best. Be the best partner you know how to be, admit when you have no idea what you're doing, when you're unsure or confused or you need a little guidance and you let him do the same. You listen and you talk and you try."

Malia stared at him skeptically. "That's it?"

"And you make out. A lot."

She laughed. "That part sounds like a lot more fun."

Danny winked. "Try it and find out."

"All right. I'll take your advice."

"Which part?"

She sighed. "All of it."

…

Stiles abruptly took a seat next to Scott, his cafeteria tray making a clatter. "Did you find Malia?"

"No." Scott rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes until his vision went spotty. "She wasn't out by her tree and I have no idea where else she could be. I thought I'd try here, but…" He looked to where Jackson and a few teammates sat at their usual table, but it was noticeably lacking Danny.

"Have you tried texting her?"

"This isn't exactly something you tell someone over text!"

"Okay, so, you don't tell her about Jackson, just that you can't find her and need to tell her something important." Stiles was already digging his phone out. "Here, I'll text her." He stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he thumbed out a text. "See… 'need to chat, something happened, no one's dead, where are you?'"

Scott pulled a face. "Seriously?"

"What? I gave her all the important details. It's serious but neither of us are bleeding out somewhere. She'll appreciate it, trust me." Shoving a few fries in his mouth, he wondered, "You think she talked to Allison?"

"Talked to me about what?" Allison suddenly sat down in front of them, her brow knit suspiciously.

Scott and Stiles both stared at her, mouths gaping, before they shared a look.

"About the game!" Scott blurted out. "Uh, Malia said she was staying over at your house tonight but… there's quarter-finals and, uh, I, we, were hoping she'd come."

"Yeah." Stiles nodded. "But we don't want to butt into whatever girly thing you were going to do… You know, manicures, facials… pillow fights."

Allison rolled her eyes. "Yeah, we'll paint each other's nails and put on our skimpiest pajamas before hitting each other with pillows. That's what every sleepover is like."

Stiles' brows hiked curiously.

Allison threw a fry at his face, which he immediately tried, and failed, to catch in his mouth. "The original plan was to watch funny movies and eat junk food and maybe talk about how much boys suck."

Scott winced.

Stiles, however, looked pleased. "Original plan? So, the plan's changed?"

"Not the junk food part, and probably not the movies."

"And the pillows?"

She threw another fry. This one he caught and raised two fists in the air in triumph. Allison snorted, clearly amused.

Scott, however, had noticed something disturbing across the cafeteria.

Jackson was staring at him.

While Stiles was busy bickering with Allison, Scott decided it was better to pretend he hadn't noticed Jackson's intense attention. He turned his head down and rested his arms on the table. But he couldn't help that his senses had focused in on the immediate threat, so when Jackson bit into an apple, it sounded impossibly loud in his ears. He winced and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Scott… Can you hear me?"

Brow furrowed, Scott's eyes darted but he refused to raise his head and acknowledge him.

"You can… can't you?"

Scott turned his attention to Stiles, who was trying to coax Allison into continuing to launch fries at him.

"No way, not with my fries at least."

"All right, you figured out my dastardly plan to hoard extra fries. Here." Stiles pushed his own container toward her and then leaned back and opened his mouth. Patting his stomach, he said, "Ready for launch!"

As Allison laughed, Scott feigned one of his own.

"Are you trying to pretend not to hear me?"

"In three… two…" Allison threw another fry.

It teetered on Stiles' chin but with some inventive head tilting, fell into his mouth. Allison and Stiles cheered and Scott tried to pretend he was also excited, but it was a poor attempt and he knew it.

Stiles glanced at him, still grinning, but his humor faded as his brow furrowed with concern. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine." Scott glanced in Jackson's direction, only to find the table empty. He looked around but couldn't find where he'd wandered to. Where the hell was he?

"Looking for me, McCall? I'm right here."

Scott felt his stomach twist and turn.

Stiles had been lured back to the game by Allison while Scott was trying his best not to freak out.

"So, what else can you do? Huh? Can you see better? Are you stronger, more powerful? I knew there was no way you suddenly got that good at lacrosse. Which means you're actually a cheater, aren't you?" Jackson chuckled. "I mean, can you even play lacrosse?"

Scott's brow fell heavy over his eyes, anger starting to build in his chest. "Yes."

"Scott?" Stiles asked.

"I bet my new co-captain's going to score a bunch of shots tonight, aren't you?"

Scott gripped his bottle of water so tight his hand was shaking.

"And while you're pretending you're not a lying cheat, I'm gonna ruin your life if you don't get me what I want. And you know what I'm gonna start with…? Her."

Scott's throat tightened as he thought of Malia.

"You know what they say about weakness, Scott. It's a poison. And Malia Tate, she's your biggest weakness." He sighed. "Terrible Tate… You know, we can start small. She likes Danny, doesn't she? One word and he never talks to her again. And Lydia, she's not too happy that Allison chose Tate over her. She'll be happy to make her pay."

Scott tried to breathe; in through the nose and out through the mouth. He gripped the sides of his lunch tray and tried to slow his racing heart.

"And Allison… Sweet, innocent Allison. Tate's protective of her. But if I play my moves right, I can have Allison eating out of my hand. I'll bet she likes to get loud. Maybe she's even a screamer. I bet Tate is. She seems like a wild one. Does she scream for you, Scott? If you don't get me what I want, I'll make her scream. But I don't think she'll like it, and neither will you."

Scott's lunch tray snapped in half under his grip.

The whole lunchroom seemed to go still for a second before everyone turned back to their food.

"Are you okay?" Allison drew his attention to her worried face.

Scott swallowed tightly. "Yeah," he rasped. "I'm fine."

Allison didn't look convinced, but let Stiles distract her once more, even if she sent darting looks back at the broken tray and Scott's still trembling hands.

Ahead, a group passed, revealing where a smirking Jackson stood leaning against a pop machine. Scott had to curb the immediate instinct to rip Jackson's throat out with his fingers.

Jackson raised his apple and bit into it; it was crisp and wet.

It sounded like teeth tearing through flesh to Scott's ears.

…

Malia was running late for class. She hurried through the halls, books clutched to her chest, and took a corner a little too fast. Abruptly, she found herself knocking into someone. While she was able to keep her feet, however, her victim did not.

"Shit, I am so sorry. I wasn't exactly paying attention and I'm running kind of late and— Oh! Isaac, hey."

Isaac sat on the ground, rubbing at his elbow. He had his face pointed down, but Malia could still make out the bags under his eyes and the deep blue bruise on his chin. Both highlighted the hollows of his slender cheeks, making him seem almost skeletal.

Thrusting a hand out to help him out, she couldn't miss his immediate flinch. Frowning, she crouched down and searched out his gaze. "Hey," she said again, softer this time. "You all right? You landed pretty hard."

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

"Just to be sure, maybe we should sit here a minute, catch our breath."

He glanced at her. "You didn't even fall."

Malia shrugged. "Maybe I could stand to miss my next class." Taking a seat on the floor, she folded her legs under her and put her books in her lap. "Did you hit your head at all? Are you feeling dizzy? Nauseous? Seeing double?"

He shook his head.

"What class were you headed to?"

"Math."

Malia grimaced. "Ugh, my mortal enemy."

He snorted, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, and glanced at her. "Yeah?"

"Totally. I have a tutor and everything." She shrugged. "I mean, he helps. I'm better now than I was before. But at what cost?"

Isaac's smile widened but it only made him duck his head further, as if he needed to hide it.

Malia's stomach twisted at what might've happened to teach him that kind of instinct. "What about you? Do you like math?"

Isaac shrugged. "I don't hate it."

"What's your favorite subject?"

He took a moment to think about it before saying, "Theatre."

"Theatre?" Her eyes widened with surprise. "Am I talking to the next Brad Pitt here?"

"Hardly." His shoulders loosened up, lowering from their crouched position near his ears. "I do set building, mostly. I don't have the… I couldn't be one of the actors."

"No? Why not?"

"I'm not…" He shook his head. "I can't act."

"Says who?"

Isaac glanced at her. "Guess I'm too shy."

"Maybe that's something you can use."

His brow furrowed.

"A lot of people are shy, right? So, channel it. Find a character like you, use that to get your courage up. Then any fumbling can just be used as character building." She shrugged. "Maybe after you get on stage, you'll feel better about it. And then maybe the next character isn't so shy."

Isaac stared at her a long beat and then hummed. "Maybe."

Tapping her fingers against her knees in a random staccato, she eyed his chin again. "You know the rec centre over on Gorge?"

He blinked, confused, and then nodded. "Yeah?"

"They have a bunch of programs on the weekends. I think I saw a flyer for an improv class. You should check it out."

"Maybe I will."

"Cool." She paused, chewed on it for a second and then said, "Me and Allison are gonna be hanging out there more… There's a self-defense class we want to take… If improv class doesn't take, or it runs at a different time, maybe you could join us."

Isaac went still, his entire body completely rigid. He raised wounded eyes to meet hers, searchingly. A minute passed before he nodded, a quick jerk of his head.

When a door down the hallway snapped, the moment was lost. He turned his gaze to the floor and shoved himself to his feet. Mumbling a goodbye, he hurried away, shoulders hunched once more, head bowed deep.

Malia watched him go before she stood, swiping at the back of her shorts before she gathered her books. With a sigh, she turned on her heel and continued to her class.

…

"There you are!" Stiles came to a stumbling stop next to her locker.

Malia's brow furrowed. "Here I am… at my locker… at the end of the day."

"Yeah, me and Scott have only been looking for you all day. Did you not get my text? 'need to chat, something happened.' Ring a bell?"

"Yeah, quickly followed by 'no one's dead.'" She shrugged. "I figured it wasn't an emergency and I didn't get it until after lunch anyway. So, what's up?"

"What's up!? What's up is that Jackson knows Scott is a werewolf and has somehow figured out you are too," he whisper-shouted. "Or, well, he doesn't know the specifics, like coyote versus wolf, but he knows the general idea and that's more than enough!"

Malia felt her stomach drop out. "And? What is he going to do with the information?"

"Right now, it looks like he's blackmailing Scott."

"For?"

"He wants the bite." Stiles paced a few steps, his hand to his forehead. "Obviously, Scott can't give him that. I mean, even if he wanted to, which would be monumentally stupid, he doesn't exactly have the ability. But now he's going around threatening Scott and you and…" Stiles groaned. "All I'll say is that it wouldn't be the worst thing if Jackson and the Alpha had a little meet and greet. We both know who would come out on top."

Malia frowned. "Jackson's an asshole, but I don't want him dead. And I don't really want accessory to murder on my conscience."

"Not even a little one? Less accessory and more, I don't know, negligence maybe."

Malia rolled her eyes. "We're not feeding Jackson to a murderous werewolf."

"Okay, fine." Stiles threw his hand up in agitation. "Then what are we doing?"

"Right now… I'm meeting Allison at the pool. After that, I don't know."

"The pool?" Stiles cried. "You wanna go swimming while we're having a crisis?"

She shrugged. "I made plans. And since half of what was supposed to just be me and Allison hanging out has now turned into watching lacrosse, I think I can fit in some swimming. If you're lucky, Jackson will be there… and mysteriously drown."

Stiles tipped his head thoughtfully and nodded. "I doubt it, but I can dream."

Closing her locker, Malia hugged her bathing suit under one arm. "What're you gonna do?"

"Yeah… about that…" He pointed at her. "I need a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"Danny."

"What about him?"

Stiles grinned, attempting innocence, but quickly dropped it. "I need his help with something."

Malia snorted. "And you think he'll do it because you ask nicely?"

"I think he'll do it because you ask and he's your friend who likes you and would be willing to do something potentially illegal if you told him it was important."

Malia hesitated. "And this potentially illegal thing would do what, exactly?"

"If I'm right, it'll give us a lead on the Alpha."

Sighing, she pulled her phone out. "Fine. I'll ask. But if he says no, I'm not going to pressure him."

Stiles rubbed his hands together eagerly.

…

Malia sat on the edge of the pool, kicking her legs front to back as she watched Allison cut through the water like a particularly happy fish, racing an invisible opponent from one end to the other. A little breathless, she popped up out of the water just next to Malia.

"Are you just going to soak your legs the whole time or what?"

Malia shrugged. "I'm thinking about it."

"I could use someone to race against."

Just as she opened her mouth to reply, another voice interrupted—

"I could race you."

Malia and Allison turned to find Jackson grinning down at them.

Allison raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess, you're also an expert diver."

Jackson chuckled lightheartedly and let his chin drop, adopting a boyish look. "I won't be going to the Olympics anytime soon, but I think I have a pretty good backstroke."

Rolling her eyes, Malia pushed off the edge of the pool and sunk into the water. "Perfect your stroking somewhere else, Jack-in-the-Box. The lane is busy."

Jackson's smile wavered but then widened. "Why not a three-way then?" He winked. "Winner gets bragging rights."

She pursed her lips.

"Come on, Tate. I know you can't turn down a challenge. And I'm a big one. You see these cheekbones? They're dynamically suited for speed in water."

"It could be fun," Allison said, turning a hopeful look on Malia. "Come on. One race! If you win, I'll buy you popcorn at the game."

"What if I win?" Jackson asked, his grin turning flirtatious.

Allison glanced at him. "I won't boo when you score."

He laughed. "All right, deal." As he climbed into the water, he turned his attention to Malia. "Well?"

Malia stared at him a long moment. Was this some kind of test? Like, if she lost he wouldn't suspect her but if she used her abilities to swim better than him, it was just proof that she wasn't your average human? Or was this just him being him? Looking for ways to poke and prod, knowing he was putting her on edge simply by breathing the same air as her.

"I'll go easy on you."

"Don't," he encouraged.

They kept tense eye contact for half a beat before Allison said, "So, one lap, there and back?"

"Winner takes all. Loser cries to mommy." Jackson paused. "Or, I guess daddy, in your case Tate."

"Jackson," Allison snapped.

"It's okay," Malia said. "Jackson's just trying to get in my head."

He smirked. "Did it work?"

"You couldn't get in my head or anything else of mine on your best day." She shifted so she was facing the end of her lane. "Now, let's see what you're made of Jacky-boy. I have popcorn to win."

He chuckled under his breath. "You're on."

"I'm also racing," Allison muttered.

She was, but as much as Malia knew Allison was a competitor, this was a different game altogether. It didn't matter who swam better or faster. It wasn't about that at all. This was mental. This was warfare. And Jackson Whittemore had just declared himself her enemy.

[tbc]

author's note: sorry i suck. i actually wrote this chapter while i was in the hospital last year, but haven't had the energy or time to edit it. you'll be happy to know i have another chapter already written that just needs editing. and then a chunk of chapter 30 started. i'm trying my best to stay focused and get this story wrapped up. i appreciate everyone that's stuck with me and has continued to read/ask for updates on this story. i hope this chapter was worth the wait!

i don't feel awesome about this chapter. it was definitely a filler because we're going into some pretty big stuff in the next chapter. i was trying to find a balance between malia's chill hang outs with her friends while stiles/scott are freaking out over jackson's revelation. i just really love writing malia having girlfriends too. there needs to be more female bonding in all shows/stories, but it's generally one of my favorite parts of this particular story. opportunities for women to support each other.

also, allison's mood toward scott might seem a little up and down. i acknowledge that. and that's because she's very ride or die for malia. so while she simultaneously wants malia to be happy and thinks scott could be a big part of that, when he comes up to her with lydia present, it's bad timing and having both him and lydia there at the same time, while lydia is downplaying things, makes allison extra annoyed with the situation. that said, scott and stiles are friends to her and with malia busy with danny and her not talking to lydia, she chose to sit with them, seeing as she does know that malia and scott are working things out. i felt like that needed explaining because her mood does seem a little rollercoasty and i don't have her directly explaining what's going on in her head, so maybe it didn't come through in the text. or maybe i'm overthinking, who knows.

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