episodes: 1x09 - Wolf's Bane; 1x10 - Co-Captain
word count: 12,306

XXIX.

Malia squeezed water from her hair with a towel as she walked down the still-busy halls to her locker. Despite taking a shower, she could still smell chlorine on her skin. Then again, she wasn't sure if that was just her extra sensitive senses. The squish of her wet feet in her shoes were a sign that she needed to start keeping a spare pair of socks around. Allison was probably already waiting in the parking lot while Malia still needed to grab her backpack. Unlike Allison, Malia hadn't smartly left her things in the bleachers overlooking the pool.

She was nearly to her locker when Scott appeared next to her, looking out of sorts. "Hey."

"Hey." She raised an eyebrow. "Have fun digging through Allison's bag for the necklace?"

He flushed. "You saw that?"

"You weren't exactly subtle about it."

He sighed. "It wasn't in there."

"I know. She left it at home because she was worried it might get stolen." Malia shrugged. "Ironic, when you think about it."

Groaning, Scott fell back against a bank of lockers while she unlocked hers. "What're we gonna do?"

"Well, Stiles is working on his own master plan, but if worse comes to worst… I guess I'll just ask her."

Scott stared at her a beat. "You think she'll give it to you?"

Malia sighed, her stomach feeling heavy. "I do. And I kind of hate it."

"Why?"

"Because it means she trusts me."

"Lia…" He shifted to face her, his hand gently folding around her arm. "I know it doesn't feel like it, but this is the right thing to do… Her necklace could help us figure out how to stop the alpha. The same alpha that lured Allison to the school. That was outside her house that night you were there. It isn't just about us. It's about keeping other people safe too. I don't know how the alpha is picking his victims, but I know being the daughter of werewolf hunters probably isn't too safe."

"I know. I get that." She nodded. "I just don't want to be the kind of person that lies to their friends."

"Even if it keeps them safe?"

"For how long?" She yanked her bag out and shoved her locker closed with a loud bang, glaring when a few people looked in their direction. Once they scurried off, she turned back to Scott. "What if this is just the beginning? We keep thinking that if we get rid of the alpha, life goes back to normal. But does it? We're not human, Scott. We never will be again. Maybe we gain some control and we don't shift or hurt anybody without meaning to. But we can never go back to what it was before. We can never not know that werewolves and werecoyotes and alphas and everything else exists."

"I know." He took her hand, folding their fingers together, and squeezed. "I know it's not going to be normal and that ignorance is usually bliss. A lot of me wishes I could go back and never know. But we do. And… We have to try, right? That's the least we can do."

Try. The word sent a pulse through her that was totally unwarranted given the current topic of conversation, but…

Taking a deep breath, Malia shifted forward until her chest pressed to his. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to push past her own resistance and move toward something new and exciting and wholly them. But she didn't want to do that here; she wanted that to be theirs alone. So, instead, she pressed her forehead to his and squeezed his hand.

Scott leaned into her, reaching up to fold his fingers around the nape of her neck, warm and heavy.

The moment was only broken by the familiar voices of Jackson and Lydia.

"…what the hell is this?"

"Well, Lydia, in preparation for some big changes, I've decided to drop some of the dead weight in my life and—" Jackson chuckled. "—you're just about the deadest."

"Are you breaking up with me?" she whispered furtively.

"Dumping, actually. I'm dumping you."

"Dumped." Lydia scoffed. "By the co-captain of the lacrosse team. I wonder how many minutes it'll take me to get over that."

With a hum, Jackson blew her a kiss and walked off down the hall, seeming amused more than anything.

Lydia stared after him. "Wait, seconds, actually. Seconds!" Getting no response, she looked around to see if anybody noticed. She caught Malia's gaze over Scott's shoulder. Lydia's face turned crimson before she turned on her heel and marched away in a huff.

Malia's gaze found Scott's. "Allison's waiting."

"Okay." He rubbed his hand down her back soothingly. "You're coming to the game?"

"I'll be there."

He hesitated a moment before leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cheek. As he walked backwards, his hand slid off her hip. "I'll see you tonight."

Heart in her throat, she nodded.

…

Stiles hurried into his bedroom, dropped his bag on the floor haphazardly, fell into his desk chair, and pulled himself up to his laptop. He checked the time to see how long it'd be before Danny would be showing up.

"Hey, Stiles!" his dad called out.

"Yo, D—" Spotting a familiar and unwelcome face as he turned around, he let out a startled, "Derek?"

Derek raised a finger to his lips to shush him and then pointed at the door.

"I, um…" Racing into the hallway and yanking his bedroom door half-closed behind him, Stiles blocked the doorway with his outstretched arms, attempting to look at ease, and utterly failing.

His dad stood just outside, staring at him in confusion. "What'd you say?"

"What? I said 'yo… d-dad.'"

With a shake of his head, his dad told him, "Listen, I've got something I've got to take care of, but, um… I'm gonna be there tonight. I mean, your first game."

"My first game." Stiles blinked and shook his head. "Great. Awesome. Uh… good."

His dad grinned. "I'm very happy for you. And I'm really proud."

"Thanks. Me too. I'm happy and proud… of myself."

"So, they're really going to let you play right?" He stared at Stiles skeptically.

"Yeah, dad, I'm first line." Stiles pulled an excited face. "Believe that?"

His dad smiled and threw his hands up. "I'm very proud."

"Oh, me too… Again…"

Pulling him into a hug, he patted Stiles' back.

Stiles hugged him back awkwardly, mumbling, "Huggy… Huggy, huggy."

Letting go, his dad stepped back, staring at him strangely. Finally, he waved and walked away. "See you there."

"Take it easy." Stiles waved back at him. When his father was out of view, he rolled his eyes at himself and then stumbled into his bedroom. As he turned around, Derek shoved him against his door until it closed at his back.

"If you say one word…" Derek pointed at him threateningly.

"Oh what, you mean, like 'Hey, dad, Derek Hale's in my room… Bring your gun?'"

Derek dropped a hand to his side, but kept the other pressed hard against Stiles' chest.

"Yeah, that's right. If I'm harboring your fugitive ass, it's my house—" He knocked his hand against Derek's chest. "—my rules, buddy."

Derek glanced at his chest.

Stiles opened his mouth, realized his mistake, and then closed it.

Slowly, Derek loosened up and released Stiles. He stepped back and gave the front of Stiles' jacket a tug to straighten it out.

Scoffing, Stiles returned the gesture. But as he moved to walk past him, Derek snapped his head forward like he might attack.

Startled, Stiles let out a strangled, "Oh my God…" before throwing himself into his desk chair.

"Scott or Malia get the necklace?"

"No, they're still working on it." Stiles fiddled with a pen. "I voted they just steal it; Malia wants to work a gentler touch."

Derek rolled his eyes. "She needs to stop trusting the Argents."

"I don't think her trust is a family value discount," Stiles defended. "I think it's strictly in Allison's favor."

"And you think that's smart?"

"I…" Thinking of Allison at lunch, at the way she laughed as she launched fries across the table for him to catch, Stiles had a hard time thinking of her as a cold-blooded killer. But then, that was kind of the point, wasn't it? If nobody suspected you, it was easier to move under the radar. What use was a hunter if everyone knew they were the enemy? "I don't know. Maybe her judgement is clouded… Or maybe Allison isn't like her family." Stiles scratched his temple. "I don't exactly have a lot of experience with hunters. But if I had to guess, I'd say Allison is your average teenager. If she knows about her family's lifestyle choices, she's not hinting at it to any of us."

Derek hummed.

"Look, there's something else we're gonna try," Stiles said. "I'm not saying we eliminate the necklace or whatever clues it might have, but I was thinking…"

Hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket, Derek moved them in a 'go on' fashion.

"The night we were trapped at the school, Scott sent a text to Allison asking her to meet him there."

"So?"

"So, it wasn't Scott. He lost his phone."

Derek's brow furrowed. "Well, can you find out who sent it?"

"No, not me. But I think I found somebody who can."

…

"When Malia asked me to do you a favor, I thought it'd be something simple… like doing this lab work on my own."

"Hey!" Stiles cried, offended. "I can pull my own weight!"

Danny rolled his eyes. "The point being that I didn't think she was asking me to do something illegal."

"In her defense, she said I should leave you alone if you say no."

Blank-faced, Danny said, "No."

Stiles pressed his hands together and held them up. "Please, Danny, come on."

Danny shook his head. "What even makes you think I know how to trace a text?"

"Oh, I…" Awkwardly, Stiles admitted, "I looked up your arrest report, so…"

"I was thirteen," Danny defended. "They dropped the charges."

Stiles waved his hands dismissively. "I know."

"I came here to do lab work."

"Technically, you came here because Malia wanted a favor."

"And maybe if it was Malia asking, I would."

Exasperated, Stiles stared up at him knowingly. "You think she'd ask you to do this favor if it wasn't important?"

Danny stared at him a beat and then sighed. As he looked away, he went still. Stiles followed Danny's gaze to where a dark and brooding Derek Hale sat, a book open in his lap. For a moment, he panicked. What if Danny recognized him?

But then, Danny motioned to him with a thumb, "Who's he?"

"Um…" Stiles shifted in his seat. "My cousin…"

"Miguel," Derek offered with a vague nod.

Danny frowned. "Is that… blood on your shirt?"

Stiles whirled around to eye Derek nervously. "Yeah, yes. Well, he gets these horrible nosebleeds." He gripped the back of his chair. "Hey, Miguel!"

Derek looked up slowly, a look of utter murder on his unforgiving face.

"I thought I told you to borrow one of my shirts." Stiles aggressively motioned to the dresser with his head.

Derek closed the book with a snap and tossed it on Stiles' bed before standing. He stripped his shirt off as he walked to the dresser.

"So, anyway." Stiles turned back to Danny. "We both know you have the skills to trace that text and I'm telling you that this will benefit Malia in the long run. Really, you're doing her a favor, not me. So…"

"Stiles?" Derek asked.

Stiles shifted impatiently. "Yes?"

Topless, Derek held out one of Stiles' shirts and tugged at either of the sleeves. "This… no fit."

"Then try something else on."

While Derek rifled around for something else, Danny struggled to drag his attention away from his half-dressed figure.

Suddenly, Stiles smirked.

Danny caught him and rolled his eyes.

"Don't you have a boyfriend? Adrian or something?"

"Adam," Danny corrected. "And you're a horrible person."

"Yeah, it keeps me awake at night."

Danny hesitated. "This'll help Malia?"

"Absolutely."

Sighing, Danny turned and grabbed Stiles' laptop. "I'll need the ISP, the phone number, and the exact time of the text."

Leaning back in his chair, Stiles pumped both arms up in the air in a silent cheer of triumph.

…

"You know, when I was promised pizza and junk food and movies, I didn't think there'd be this much physical activity involved."

Allison stretched her leg out behind her as far as it would reach. "Just a short run? Come on, I'm still feeling energetic from the swimming. Not that I won any of those races."

"Yeah, well, I'm competitive." Malia perked up. "You know, if we race, this will go faster, and the faster this run goes, the quicker I get to my junk food coma. So…"

Allison grinned. "You're a track star, so I already know I'm going to lose, but… you're on."

Malia laughed as they both took off running.

It felt good— the air filling her lungs near to bursting, the pull and stretch of her muscles, the graceful movement of her feet across the forest floor. She had to keep herself from sprinting too far ahead. She tried to keep pace with Allison rather than show off. But all too soon, their run had led them to a familiar and haunting place.

Instead of passing it by, Allison slowed to a stop. She dropped her hands to her knees, her chest heaving, and stared at the dark and foreboding Hale House in the distance.

"Allison?"

Standing upright, Allison gritted her teeth and walked forward.

Blowing out a sigh, Malia followed. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I have to." Allison turned serious eyes on Malia. "I need to."

Malia stared at her a moment and then nodded. "Okay."

They crossed the forest floor, littered in dead leaves, and climbed the whining stairs of the porch. Faded paint peeled from rotted and burned wood as Allison pushed the door open. An eerie creak filled the silence. She hesitated on the threshold but gathered her courage and crossed over. Curious eyes bounced around, searching shadowed corners for the supposed serial killer who'd once lived there.

Malia followed her in. The house still screamed of death and darkness, hollow and haunted, but it wasn't as scary as it had once been. Not when she knew Derek personally. Maybe not as well as she did Scott or Stiles, but better than she did the last time she was in his house. He wasn't perfect. He was surly and secretive and lacked any shred of patience, but he was also suffering and lost and desperately lonely. He would never call himself those things, but she recognized a mirror when she saw one.

She regretted that all Allison could see was the home of someone who had tried to do her harm. She was in the wrong place for that. It wasn't Derek who hunted her that night.

Malia watched Allison creep into the living room through the open doors that had once been wood and glass and were now dull and dark with old soot. Peels of burned ceiling hung like cobwebs. Black and blistered wood lay in chunks all around. A hole from above let in a spotlight, emphasizing a space on the floor that caught Allison's attention. Brow furrowed, she kicked debris out of the way and knelt down, brushing away dust and dirt. Malia watched her fit her fingers over five deep claw marks, dragging her own fingers down in mimicry.

Malia felt the heavy presence of someone else in the room a half-second before Allison looked up and shrieked.

Wincing, Kate held a hand up. "Damn! You got some lungs on you."

Letting out a sigh, Allison brushed her hair back from her forehead. "Did you follow us here?"

"Well, you can't blame me for being concerned about my favorite niece now, can you?"

Malia frowned. Had she been so distracted with her run that she hadn't picked up on a hunter tracking them the whole time? Or was Kate lying? Had she come looking for Derek at the Hale house and just stumbled upon them instead?

Allison didn't look particularly happy that her aunt was trailing her secretly.

Kate glanced at Malia and then turned her attention back to Allison. Her voice softened as she wondered, "What're you looking for?"

"I don't know… Something." She licked her lips, agitated and defensive. "Anything."

Kate nodded. "You mean answers to lingering questions, like…"

"Why he would want to kill us?" Allison pressed her mouth flat as her eyes shone with tears she refused to let fall.

"Well…" Kate laughed. "I mean, come on, look at this place." She gestured around. "Could you imagine if your father and I were trapped in something like this? Might do some interesting things to your head, don't you think?"

Allison frowned. "It wouldn't turn me into a psychotic killer."

"You don't have to be psychotic to be a killer."

"It probably helps though," Malia said, drawing Kate's unnerving eye.

Kate's face was expressionless as she said, "Maybe. Or maybe you just… need a reason." She walked across the floor and stroked her finger down a piece of charred, black wood. "And even then, sometimes… you can surprise yourself." Her voice had turned to a whisper that sounded almost reverent. It sent a shiver down Malia's back.

While Allison had turned her attention back to the floor, Malia watched Kate, the way her fingers stroked the burned wood with a kind of awe was strange and filled her chest with a revolted heaviness.

Kate looked back to Allison then and crossed the floor. "What do you want, Allison?"

Letting out a huff of a laugh, Allison shook her head and stood, dropping a loose piece of debris as she went. "I want to not be scared. That night I felt utterly weak. Like— Like I needed somebody to come in and rescue me. I hate that feeling. I want to feel stronger than that." Her mouth fell open and she sucked in a shaky breath. "I want to feel powerful."

Malia's stomach twisted as she watched the eager excitement fill Kate's face. This. This was the moment. The opening where Allison either swayed toward hunting or away from it.

Kate circled her; a predator sniffing out prey. "Allison, if you can just give me a little bit of time…" She brushed her hand from one of Allison's shoulders to the other, coming to a stop on her opposite side, blocking Malia from Allison's view. "Be just a little patient… I think I can give you exactly what you want."

Hesitantly, Allison looked away and then back to her, confused and trying to make sense of her aunt's promise. But Kate gave her nothing more. She simply walked away, all too confident. As she strode out of the house, she looked behind her, pausing on Allison before her gaze moved to Malia. With a wink and a swish of her hair, she was gone.

Allison stood, staring at the claw marks in the floor.

Malia stepped up beside her. Reaching out, she took Allison's hand and held it tightly.

Allison raised teary eyes to Malia's. "Do you ever feel like you're being pulled in two different directions and you have no idea why or how or where they even lead?"

Malia nodded.

"How do you choose? How do you know what the right thing to do is?"

"You don't." Malia rubbed her thumb over Allison's knuckles. "Do you trust your aunt?"

"I do." She nodded. "I do, but I'm afraid."

"Of her?"

Allison gaped for a moment before eventually dropping her gaze. "A little. I just… I don't know. She's intimidating sometimes."

"Yeah, I've noticed."

"But I know she cares." She swallowed tightly. "I know she loves me."

"Allison…" Malia shifted to stand in front of her. "You can trust and love your aunt and still feel like she's not the right person to help you."

Allison's brow furrowed uncertainly. "She's my family," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"Blood doesn't always make a family." Malia gave her hand a tug. "Come on. Let's get out of this place."

Taking once last look around, Allison nodded.

Together, they left the house and stepped out onto the porch, where they took a deep breath of fresh air.

"Race you back?"

Allison attempted a smile. "Okay."

…

A while later, a sweaty and hungry Allison and Malia walked into Allison's house.

"No parents?" Malia glanced around the empty foyer. The only vehicle in the driveway was Allison's and the house seemed eerily quiet. Wherever Kate went after leaving Derek's, it clearly wasn't home.

"Doesn't look like it. I think they were planning on coming to the game tonight though."

"Really?"

She smiled, seeming a little less burdened than earlier. "Yeah. It's dad's way of trying to make each new town feel like home, I guess. Him and my mom both do that. I don't think she's coming tonight, but I know Kate said she wanted to."

Malia nodded. "My dad is too."

Allison brightened. "That's great! So… things are going well then?"

"Really well." She tucked her hands in the pockets of her zip-up hoodie. "I mean, I don't want to get my hopes up, but… He seems better. Not like before, when he got sober for a while and then spiralled. This time he actually seems like he's trying."

"Good. I'm happy for you."

"Yeah." Her throat felt itchy with emotion, so she swallowed it down. "Anyway, we've got a little while before the game and I was promised junk food."

Giggling, Allison made her way to the kitchen. "I was thinking pizza, but I also bought out the corner store's candy supply. Including…" She reached into a cupboard and produced a familiar bag.

"Skittles!" Malia's eyes lit up. "You're my favorite. Don't tell Stiles."

Rolling her eyes, Allison threw the bag to her. "Sure, I won't tell him your loyalty is completely based on sugar intake."

"Food is my mistress and I'll take no other."

Laughing under her breath, Allison grabbed up the home phone. "Pizza?"

"With extra cheese."

"Duh."

Malia paused. "Hey, you mind if I drop my stuff in your room?"

Allison nodded. "Sure, go ahead."

Leaving her to her phone call, Malia turned on her heel and made her way upstairs. Out of sight, she hurried. Dropping her stuff to the side, she began searching the room for any sign of Allison's necklace. She checked the obvious places first: jewelry boxes, the dresser top, wall hooks and the like. But just as she was about to give up, she spotted something dangling out of a book on Allison's desk. Flipping it open, she found just what she was looking for, tucked in the spine of an old and unfamiliar book. It had a mildew smell to it that wrinkled her nose and the pages were thin and yellowed. There was pen circling a few words throughout, making them stand out in stark contrast.

Legend.

Mythical creature.

But it was the last that made Malia stutter to a stop: Loup garou.

She was no French major, but she knew what that meant.

Werewolf.

Malia stared at the words until her eyes burned from not blinking. Her heart was beating painfully hard in her chest. Was Allison doing her own research or was she being directed by her dad and aunt? Or worse, had she misjudged Allison's innocence around this whole situation? If she even suspected that werewolves existed, how long before she started putting the pieces of the puzzle together? How long before her entire world shifted, just like Malia's had?

Malia gripped the necklace tight in her hand. If she took it, she could always put it back. But she would never forget that she took it in the first place. Never forget that she hadn't trusted Allison. That a part of her friendship with Allison relied on secrecy and lying. But to not take it was to put herself and Scott and Stiles and everyone at risk. If this simple necklace was all that stood between them and answers, then how could she not take it?

Footsteps made their way toward the bedroom and Malia had a choice to make.

The door swung open on Allison's grinning face. "Pizza will be here in a half hour."

…

"There." Danny pointed at the laptop screen as Stiles and Derek leaned in close. "The text was sent from a computer. This one."

Derek's brows hiked. "Registered to that account name?"

Danny crossed his arms over his chest and nodded.

"No, no, no." Stiles shook his head and glanced from Danny back to the screen. "That can't be right."

In bright red writing, it read:

Account registered to:
Beacon Hills Hospital – Melissa McCall

…

Half-stuffed with pizza, Malia made her way downstairs to get her and Allison each a drink. As she walked into the kitchen, she stumbled to a stop at finding Chris Argent already there.

He glanced at her. "Malia… Allison mentioned you'd be coming over tonight. How's your girls' night going?"

"Well, I've eaten my weight in skittles and pizza, so… great." She rocked back on her heels. "I've been sent to get drinks."

"Yeah?" He motioned to the fridge. "You want a beer? I was about to grab one for myself."

"No thanks. Still underage.."

"Right." He nodded, brows arched. "Abstaining is probably smart anyway. I think Allison might've said something about your dad…?"

Malia's eyes focused on him, sharp and narrow. "What?"

"She didn't say it exactly. It was more a… feeling I got when she mentioned him." He searched her face. "It can be hard, not having a parent to rely on. Especially when the other parent is gone. I'm sorry."

Malia's throat tightened. "Yeah, well, we don't all get the fairy-tale family, I guess."

"No, we don't." He took a drag off his beer. "I hope you won't be mad at Allison. I don't think she was trying to share your personal business. She was just worried about you. Asked some advice on how to support you."

Malia stood a little taller. "I do okay on my own."

"That's a skill," he praised. "It takes a lot of time and hard work to do things on your own. But it's hard… Doing it all without some kind of support network to keep you afloat."

"I'm not drowning. I don't need a life preserver."

"Maybe not now. You're young. But if I've learned anything, it's that we need people. Good people to surround ourselves with. Loyal. Strong. People you know will never leave you behind." He glanced at her curiously. "You have a few friends, don't you? There's Scott, of course. But you mentioned another friend at dinner. Stiles or something?"

She stared at him.

He smiled. "Well, that's all that matters. Surrounding yourself with the right kind of people."

She tilted her chin. "You don't have to worry about that, Mr. Argent… I have a knack for it."

"Good." He nodded. "I did want to talk to you about something though."

Refusing to fidget, she shrugged a shoulder. "Okay?"

The good humor faded from his face. "How does Scott know Derek Hale?"

Malia hesitated. "Derek Hale? Isn't that who they said was at the school that night?"

He searched her face a moment. "Allison said she saw Scott talking to him." His voice turned rough and accusing; gone was his attempt at the kind and supportive dad of before. "Don't you think that sounds a little disconcerting? One of your friends talking to an alleged murderer?"

Malia frowned. "If he was, I'm sure he has an explanation for it. If you knew Scott, you'd know he isn't the type of person that befriends killers. And if you'll remember, he was in the school that night too. He was just as scared as Allison was."

"Was he scared? Because Allison said he left the classroom. That he wanted to find you." He eyes narrowed. "That doesn't sound like the type of behaviour of someone who's scared."

"Really? To me it sounds like somebody who cares about his friends risking his life to make sure they're safe." She refused to break her gaze from his, refused to let him gain any ground. "I don't know why Allison thinks she saw Scott talking to Derek Hale. I don't even know if Derek Hale's really the guy that was at the school that night. All I know is that your daughter is scared. We all are. Scott included. And throwing your weight around to intimidate teenagers isn't going to solve that."

A flicker crossed his face and his brow furrowed. "Anything I do is in the best interests of my family." He tilted his head. "You can understand that, can't you? That I'm just thinking of my daughter's safety?"

Malia nodded.

"I don't know you well, Malia, but you seem… protective of those you care about."

"I am," she agreed. "And Allison is someone I care about."

"Good. That's good."

The air seemed charged and tense. She waited for him to ask his questions again, to push and press and demand answers.

"You're running out of time."

Her brow furrowed.

"The game," he clarified. "It starts soon, doesn't it?"

Malia glanced at the clock. Soon-ish. She pointed at the fridge. "I still need those drinks."

With a faint and sharp smile, he stepped out of the way, letting her reach past to grab out a couple cans. She waved them at him before she turned on her heel to leave.

"Malia?"

She paused and looked back at him.

"You might not like my tactics, but I'm just trying to do what's right."

Malia jerked her head in a semblance of a nod and then continued walking. She climbed the stairs two at a time and hurried down the hall to reach Allison.

"Hey!" Allison grinned. "What took you so long?"

Malia feigned a smile. "Ran into your dad."

"Oh." She frowned, her head tilted. "Was he… okay?"

"Yeah. He was fine." She handed her a can and took a seat at the desk. "Did you want to change or anything before the game?"

Allison's nose wrinkled. "I was gonna shower, yeah. Do you mind waiting?"

"Nope. Since you dragged me jogging too, I was hoping I could take a quick shower and borrow some of your clothes for tonight. I only brought a change for tomorrow and I don't think it'll be warm enough once the sun's down."

"Yeah, borrow whatever you want." Allison motioned with her thumb. "Do you want the shower first or second?"

"You go ahead. I'll raid your closet."

"Okay, cool." Allison gathered up her things and made her way to the door. "I'll be quick."

Malia's gaze fell to the book where Allison's necklace lay. "Take your time."

…

Malia paced the length of Allison's bedroom, arms crossed as she talked herself into and out of stealing the necklace. As if he knew the inner-turmoil she was suffering through, her phone started buzzing with a call from Scott.

"I'm freaking out!" she whisper-shouted.

"About the necklace?"

"Yes!"

"I think I have a solution."

She paused. "I'm listening."

"It's going to sound dumb and totally obvious, but… What if you just take a picture of it?"

She blinked. "Really?"

"Well, I mean, we don't really know why we need it. Does it open? Is there anything written on it?"

"No, it's just a regular necklace." She held it up and took a squinting look at it. "It's flat on one side, with carved figures on the other. It's kind of ugly, honestly. Chain is old, so it's probably an antique. But otherwise totally unremarkable. So, why the hell did Laura Hale want it?"

Scott sighed. "No idea. Let's just… I don't know, just take a picture of it, all of it, and send it to Stiles. He texted me, said Derek was with him?"

"I thought he was with Danny?" She frowned and shook her head. "Just, fine, I'll take a picture and put it back."

"Okay." He paused. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know… I had a weird run-in with Allison's dad. I'll tell you about it later."

Scott's voice turned worried. "He didn't do anything to you, did he?"

"No, just a lot of shadowy double-talk." She heard the taps in the bathroom turn off and winced. "I'm running out of time to snap these pictures. I've still gotta shower before we head over. I'll see you soon!"

"Okay, just… be careful."

"I will."

Hanging up, Malia turned her phone and laid the necklace out. She took a few pictures of the front, back, and side, as well as the chain. But before she could shove it back in the book, the door was opening. Malia let it slide from her hand into a slightly open drawer, which she shoved closed with her hip just as a damp, smiling Allison stepped into the room.

"Shower's all yours."

"Thanks!" Malia hurried past her and down the hall to the still steamy bathroom, her nerves frayed.

…

Stiles answered the phone on the first ring.

Not bothering with so much as a hello, Scott asked, "Did you get the pictures Malia sent?"

"Yeah, I did, and they look just like the drawing."

Derek grabbed Stiles wrist and yanked the phone closer to himself. "We don't need pictures, we need the necklace. Is there an inscription on it, an opening, something?"

Stiles winced at the pressure and angle of his arm.

"No, no. Malia checked. The thing's flat and no, it doesn't open. There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing. And Stiles, where are you? You're supposed to be here! You're first line!"

"Where the hell's Bilisnki!" Coach Finstock shouted in the background.

"Man, you're not gonna play if you're not here to start."

Stiles yanked the phone back. "I know. Look, if you see my dad, can you tell him— Tell him I'll be there, I'll just be a little late." With that, he hung up, his shoulders slumped with defeat.

"You're not gonna make it," Derek told him frankly.

"I know." Stiles shoved his phone away.

"And you didn't tell him about his mom, either."

Stiles stared at the sign for Beacon Hills Hospital – Long Term Care. "Not 'til we find out the truth."

"By the way, one more thing."

"Yeah?"

Derek reached out, grabbed Stiles' head, and slammed it against the steering wheel.

"G-God! What was that for?"

"You know what that was for!" Derek pointed at the hospital. "Go."

Stiles clutched his face and let out a choked noise of pain. His nose wasn't broken, and there was no blood, but it really freaking hurt.

"Go!"

Shoving his door open, Stiles climbed out of the jeep.

…

"You girls ready?"

Malia forced a smile as she and Allison stepped off the stairs to meet Chris and Kate in the foyer. "Ready as we'll ever be."

Smirking, Kate hung an arm around each of their shoulders. "So, who are we rah-rahing for tonight? Still Scott or someone different?" She gave them each a squeeze as she laughed.

Allison half-smiled. "Stiles is playing too. He made first line. And Danny is usually in goalie. He's great!"

Kate's grin turned sharp. "Stiles and Danny… They sound pretty. You'll have to point them out to me."

Allison huffed a laugh. "I don't know if pretty is the descriptor I'd use."

"Danny's more handsome than pretty," Malia agreed. "And Stiles is… Well, Stiles."

Amused, Allison smiled. "He's cute."

"You've torpedoed food into his mouth, so I'll take your word for it."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Anyway, if we're talking pretty, I'd nominate Jackson. Awful personally, but definitely a pretty face."

"I think I'm going to play the music extra loud on the ride to the school," Chris declared, walking to the door.

Snickering, Kate led the girls after him. "How pretty is this Jackson?"

"Too pretty for his own good," Malia muttered.

Kate grinned. "That's the way I like 'em."

…

Malia had been texting Stiles for what felt like ages but wasn't getting any kind of response. She frowned at her phone. If he was fine and just ignoring them, she was going to tear him a new one. He was the one who came up with the color scale for check-ins.

"Everything okay?" Allison nudged her.

"Yeah, just… Stiles isn't answering."

"He's playing tonight, right? Maybe he left his phone in his locker."

"Yeah…" But Stiles tended to bring his phone out to the field with him. And given the fact that she was currently in a vehicle with the literal enemy, she didn't see him purposely leaving his phone somewhere out of reach. Trying not to assume the worst, Malia put her phone in her pocket and turned to Allison. "Are you excited?"

Allison shrugged. "Sure. It should be fun. I'm more excited for movies and hanging out after though."

"Did you ever narrow down your movie list?"

"Yup! I've picked the perfect movies. No romance, tons of comedy, and lots of girls kicking ass."

Malia grinned. "Sounds perfect."

…

Scott looked up from his glove and grimaced as Jackson took a seat next to him on the benches.

"It's the bite that does it, isn't it?"

Scott looked around to make sure nobody was paying attention. "Yes."

"Well, then, it's easy."

"No, it's not…" Scott's knee started bouncing, agitated. "I can't be the one that does it, okay? It has to be an Alpha."

Jackson shook his head dismissively. "Well, then, you get him to do it."

"I don't even know who he is! Okay, trust me, this whole thing is so much more complicated than you think. There's— There's others." He paused. "There's hunters."

"What hunters?"

"Werewolf hunters."

Jackson snorted. "Oh my God. You've got to me kidding me."

"No, Jerkoff! There's a whole family of them, and they carry assault rifles! Do you get that? Assault rifles!" He looked back, over Jackson's shoulder, to where Allison and Malia were sharing a bag of popcorn next to Chris and Kate Argent.

Brow furrowed, Jackson turned to look too. "Them?"

"What?" Scott looked to the ground. "No. No."

Jackson's eyes widened. "Oh my God, that actually makes sense." At Scott's confused expression, he said, "Allison Argent. You don't get it? You've known her this long and you never actually asked her… Her name, idiot."

Scott shook his head, still confused.

"Do you know what Argent means in French?" He scoffed. "It means silver."

…

"Dad!" Malia stood from the stands as she spotted him and Melissa searching for a seat.

Henry brightened and waved at her. He made his way around to stand next to the stands, where Malia had been lucky enough to sit on the tail end of the bench with only Allison to her right.

"Hey." He tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I picked up Shiloh. She's back home. Deaton says she's healing great. She'll be running around in no time."

Malia sighed in relief. "Good."

"Hey Allison, good to see you again."

"Hey, Mister Tate. Good to see you too." Wiping her buttery fingers off on her jeans, she motioned next to her. "Um, this is my dad, Christ Argent, and my aunt, Kate."

"Hey there." Henry nodded his head and then motioned back to the bottom of the stands with his thumb as he focused back on Malia. "Melissa saved me a seat. You're staying over at Allison's tonight?"

Malia nodded. "Yeah. I packed some clothes for tomorrow and even my homework."

"All right." He patted her knee. "Come say goodbye to me before you go."

"I will."

Henry waved to the Argents. "Enjoy the game."

Malia watched him make his way back to Scott's mom, who gave her a thumbs up and a smile before turning her attention to Henry as he took a seat next to her.

"You think Scott's nervous about the game?" Allison wondered.

Malia looked over to see him sitting with Jackson, his brow knotted as he stared out at the field distantly. He definitely looked nervous, but she doubted it had anything to do with the game.

…

Stiles walked through the empty halls of the hospital, phone pressed to his ear. "Yeah, I said I can't find her."

"Look, ask for Jennifer," Derek told him. "She's been looking after my uncle."

Stiles hurried around the corner and through the doorway of Peter Hale's room, only to find the bed made and the wheelchair empty. "Yeah, well, he's not here either."

"What?!"

"He's not here. He's gone, Derek."

The phone went dead for a tense second before Derek abruptly said, "Stiles, get out of there right now! It's him, he's the Alpha! Get out!"

Stiles' eyes widened. He dropped his phone and stepped back from the doorway, but as he turned, he found a man standing a few feet away, half his face mottled and melted.

In a quiet voice, Peter said, "You must be Stiles."

Backing up, Stiles turned to flee, only to find a familiar, red-headed nurse standing in front of him.

"What're you doing here?" she demanded. "Visiting hours are over."

Stiles' mouth fell open and his eyes narrowed. "You… And him. You're—" Realization dawned. "You're the one who— Oh my… And he's the…" He scrubbed a hand back over his head and looked between the two of them. "Oh my God, I'm gonna die… I'm gonna die."

And then Derek was there, knocking Jennifer out with a quick elbow to the face.

"That's not nice," Peter said, seeming more amused than offended. "She's my nurse."

"She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people." To Stiles, he said, "Get out of the way."

"Aww, damn…" Stiles sunk down to the floor.

Peter started across the floor toward Derek. "You think I killed Laura on purpose? One of my own family?"

Derek's eyes turned a bright, vivid blue as he bared his teeth and let out an angry growl. Leaping forward, he kicked off the wall for momentum and lunged at Peter. With ease, Peter caught him and slammed him into the wall, which caved under the force of Derek's body.

Stiles, still on the floor, tried to wiggle and crawl his way out of the immediate war zone.

Peter threw Derek to the opposite wall, back and forth, before releasing him to slump to the ground.

Stiles crawled to a stop just short of Jennifer's unconscious body and flailed away from her. Hands and feet scrambling, he scurried away, hiding behind a desk.

He could hear Derek choking, but he couldn't see him.

"My mind, my personality, were literally burned out of me," Peter said in that same quiet and eerie voice. "I was being driven by pure instinct."

There was a thump and a groan.

"You want forgiveness?" Derek asked, his voice strained and his breathing heavy.

Stiles listened to the sound of them scuffling again.

"I want understanding," Peter said.

A loud series of thumps were heard then.

Stiles crawled out from behind the desk, just enough to spot Derek, sprawled face down on the floor.

"Do you have any idea what it was like for me during those years?" Peter asked.

Derek pushed himself up and spat out a gob of blood.

"Slowly healing, cell by cell. Even more slowly coming back to consciousness…"

Stiles crawled out from behind the desk.

"Yes, becoming an Alpha, taking that from Laura, pushed me over a plateau in the healing process. I can't help that."

Derek lurched up and attacked again, swinging and swinging, blood pouring down his nose and coating his teeth. Peter evaded the first swing but not the second. He remained standing, however, and caught Derek's hand before he could try for a third. He squeezed and the pressure had Derek crying out and sinking down to his knees in pain.

"I tried to tell you what was happening. I tried to warn you." Peter reached down and grabbed Derek by the back of his jacket, throwing him across the room and through the glass window of the front desk, sending shards of glass flying. Derek hit the ground hard, laying there for a beat before he started army-crawling away, across a bed of splintered glass.

Peter followed after him, unhurried.

…

"It was six years ago and, in my defense, it was before I'd gotten sober," Harris cried, seated at one of the chemistry tables, a pad of paper and a pen in front of him, the only light coming from a desk lamp.

Sheriff Noah Stilinski sat on a stool in the center of the room, behind Harris, out of his view. "Listen, I have my son's first lacrosse game to get to. What do you say we just focus on the details, huh?

"I met her at a bar. We had a lot of drinks… A lot. She started asking me what I do, and she kept asking questions." He scoffed. "Do you have any idea what that's like? To have someone actually interested in the topic of chemistry? After staring at all these vacant faces day after—"

"Details," the Sheriff interrupted.

"Like I said, I talked. It was fascinating stuff. How you could melt away the lock of a bank vault. How you could dissolve a body and get away with murder."

"How you could start a fire and get away with arson?" Noah asked knowingly.

Harris sighed. "And a week later, the Hale house burns down."

Noah shook his head. "You know, you could have said something."

"And be an accomplice? It would have ended my teaching career."

Standing, the Sheriff made his way closer. "So, you don't know her name or where she was from?"

"No! Which is exactly what Laura Hale asked." Harris grabbed up a pencil and started scribbling on the pad of paper. "I'll point you in the same direction that I pointed her." Tearing off the paper, he handed it to the Sheriff.

"What is this?" A poorly drawn dog with a star above it, tucked inside a misshapen circle.

"The necklace the girl was wearing. That's the symbol on it." Harris fiddled with his hands nervously. "I asked her about it. She said it was a family thing. You find the girl wearing that necklace, she's your arsonist."

"Murderer," Noah corrected.

"Excuse me?"

"Arson happens to property. This girl's a murderer."

…

Derek coughed and gasped, dragging himself across the floor by his hands. He made it to the X-Ray room with no clear exit and pulled himself up, resting his back against a metal cabinet. Gasping for air, he stared up at his uncle, who peered down at him, unmoved by his pain. Was this the same man he'd grown up with? The man he visited every day since he'd returned to Beacon Hills? The last of his family.

"I was going to wait, for dramatic flair, but—" Peter spun a nearby two-sided mirror, watching his eyes flash in the glass. It took mere seconds and when he stopped the mirror, his face was whole, not a single sign that his face had ever been anything but perfect. He stared at his reflection smugly. "—when you look this good, why wait?"

Derek stared up at him, blood still leaking from his nose.

"Derek, you have to give me a chance to explain." Peter leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. "After all, we're family."

…

Coach Finstock suddenly gripped Scott and Jackson's shoulders and gave them a shake. "Now, this is what I like to see, rivals turned allies. You know there's no 'me' in 'team,' right, boys?"

Jackson's brow furrowed.

"Yes, there is, Coach," Scott said.

"Okay, smartass, how 'bout this— No 'A' in Econ if no win on field? Good?" He looked between them. "Huh? Perfect. Good."

As Coach Finstock walked away, Scott turned his attention to Jackson. In an already tired voice, he wondered, "So, what are you gonna do?"

"Well, I'm gonna give you a chance to give me what I want," Jackson decided. "What's three days, huh?"

Scott flinched, his eyes wide in shock.

"72 hours. That's all you get, Scott. 72 hours."

"What if I can't?"

"Oh, come on, McCall." He smirked. "That's not a winning attitude."

A whistle blew and Jackson left the bench to step out onto the field.

"Let's go. Huddle up! Let's go!" Coach Finstock shouted. "Big night! Big night!"

…

Malia stared down at the field, digging out a few of the half-popped kernals still lingering at the bottom of the bag to throw into her mouth. Sheriff Stilinski was standing behind the benches, hands on his hips as he looked around for an absent Stiles.

"That one." Allison nudged her aunt and pointed to the field. "That's Jackson."

"Holy hotness," Kate muttered. "Ugh, if I was in high school again… Maybe just a substitute teacher."

Allison scrunched up her face. "You are sick."

Kate laughed. "You should be all over that," she sing-songed.

Allison turned to Malia, who made a fake-gagging motion.

Giggling, Allison leaned into her shoulder. "How's the popcorn?" she wondered, peering into the bag.

Malia gave it a shake. "Disappointingly empty. I might go grab a refill. You wanna come?"

"Sure."

As Malia and Allison hopped down from the stands, Malia heard Kate say, "Chris, remember how we were talking about a second beta— a younger one?"

"Yes."

"Can you get turned by a scratch?"

"If the claws go deep enough… Maybe."

"Wonder how deep those went."

Malia turned back and followed Kate's gaze to where Jackson stood.

Jackson, who had two noticeably healing gouges on the back of his neck.

…

Malia would like to say that she remembered much of the game, but that would be a lie. She cheered when Scott or his team scored, but her attention was split between Stiles' complete lack of communication and whatever food she and Allison were splitting. And even then, most of it was on Stiles. When she called, it went to voicemail. When she texted, it went unanswered.

By the end of the game, she was relieved, if only because it meant they weren't rooted to this one place. Except, Malia was going back to Allison's, so even if Scott went looking for him, she couldn't exactly join him. But she wanted to. Would it look weird, she wondered, leaving Allison and her family to go looking for Stiles? She needed to talk to Scott. Maybe he had an idea where he was or why he wasn't answering.

As the boys cheered for their win, which meant at some point Malia would find herself back here for yet another game, she climbed off the stands. Telling Allison she was just going to say goodbye to her dad, she promised to meet the Argent family back at the SUV.

"Hey!" Henry grinned down at her. "Good game, huh? I'm guessing with how much that Greenberg kid keeps saying 'State' that the teams headed to state finals?"

Malia shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Melissa chuckled. "It does. And I don't want to be that mom that brags, but did you see how well Scott played tonight? I know he's been working out and really practicing, but it still surprises the hell out of me every time I see him play."

"Yeah, he's pretty amazing." Malia chewed her lip. "Hey, did either of you guys see Stiles?"

Melissa frowned. "No, I didn't. I saw Noah. He was pretty worried too. Stiles was supposed to play tonight, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, he was." Malia's stomach tied itself in knots.

"Cold feet maybe?" Henry suggested.

"Probably." Malia nodded. "I, uh, I should go. Allison's waiting."

"Okay." Henry nodded. "I'll spoil Shiloh with some peanut butter before bed, scout's honor."

"You were definitely not a scout."

"Who're you gonna rat me out to?"

She snorted a laugh.

Melissa smiled at them. Reaching out, she pulled Malia into a hug. "Have fun!"

Malia nodded and squeezed her back. "I will."

Making her way to the parking lot, Malia spotted Allison standing with her dad and aunt at the front of the truck. Chris and Kate were talking in hushed whispers, far enough from Allison that she couldn't hear them. Malia wasn't sure if it was a good or terrible thing that their focus had shifted to Jackson. On the one hand, that meant it wasn't on her or Scott… On the other, it was Jackson. Not only was he technically innocent and not deserving of whatever macabre murder scene the Argents would have planned for him, but if they decided to pressure him into snitching, he'd likely spill the beans that it wasn't him who was the beta they were looking for.

She was startled out of her thought when Danny fell into step next to her. "If it isn't my favorite tutee."

Malia pulled a face. "That's a terrible word, and nickname, and I hope I never hear it again."

He chuckled under his breath.

She nudged him with her elbow. "Congratulations on the big win."

He nodded. "Thanks. We did pretty good out there."

"Well, you won, so yeah."

"Are you coming to the party tonight?"

"It's literally Wednesday. How are you having a party?"

He shrugged. "We win, we party, that's just how it goes."

"Yeah, well, I've already got plans with Allison. We've officially eaten too much junk food and now we're going to binge on movies until we pass out."

"Sounds like fun. I won't keep you."

"Enjoy your party. You deserve it."

"Thanks." He grinned. "I will."

Malia watched him go. He was already at the doors when she realized she should have asked him what it was Stiles ended up asking him to do. She doubted Stiles would have told him too much, so as not to arouse suspicion, but any kind of information on what Stiles was doing or where he might be would help.

Malia felt torn. She wanted to follow Danny, to ask him about Stiles and to find Scott. But she had a feeling the Argents were already getting antsy. So, instead, she dug her phone out. She called Stiles first, but when there was no answer, she tried Derek. "Hey… I've tried calling and texting and Stiles isn't answering. I know you guys are together, so I'm trusting you to keep each other safe… Just, call me, please? Let me know you're both okay."

After, she sent a text to Danny, asking him if things went okay with Stiles, hoping he might let her know what all happened. Scott would have to wait. There was too much to discuss in a text. She just hoped the Argents didn't go looking for Jackson tonight.

Tucking her phone away, Malia crossed the lot to where Allison was waiting for her.

"Ready?" Allison asked, pushing off the door.

Malia glanced at Chris and Kate before smiling at Allison. "Ready."

…

Scott's head was fogged with worry as he made his way toward the locker room, blind to the cacophony of excitement all around him. The rest of the team was over the moon at the win, but all he could think about was where Stiles could be. There was no way he would willingly miss his first big game. Especially knowing his dad would be there. Something had to have happened. And the last person he was with was Derek. A part of Scott wanted to trust that after everything, Derek would keep Stiles safe. Another part of him doubted that.

A hand clapped down onto his shoulder and pulled him back a step. He turned to see Jackson grinning down at him. "Just saw Tate catch a ride with the Argents. Why, exactly, is she hanging around hunters if they're as dangerous as you say they are?"

Scott glared at him. "It's not that simple. We didn't always know they were hunters. And Allison isn't one. She doesn't know about any of this!" He glanced around to make sure nobody else could overhear them. "You have no idea how dangerous all of this is. It's not a game! Peoples lives are at stake."

Jackson squinted at him a beat. "The school, the video store, the bus driver, all of it's connected. You're the reason people are dead, McCall."

"It wasn't me! It was the Alpha! Don't you see that?"

"I'll tell you what I see…" He poked Scott in the chest. "Just because you're scared and have no idea what to do with all that power, doesn't mean I will be. Look, you want me to leave you alone? It's simple. You get me that bite and we never have to talk again. You can go back to your little star-crossed lovers thing with Tate and your boring life can get back on track."

"I can't—"

"You know what else is in three days?" Jackson interrupted.

Scott frowned. "No…"

"The winter formal. And you know, now that me and Lydia aren't a thing anymore, I'm in need of a date… And I think me and Allison would make a great looking couple, don't you?" He grinned. "So, why don't you figure out a way to get me that bite, or while me and Allison are getting cozy on the dancefloor, I'll let it slip that her bestie has been lying to her this whole time. Just trying to keep an eye on her and her family." He furrowed his brown in faux concern. "How do you think she'd take that?"

Scott swallowed tightly, his teeth gritted.

Patting his chest, Jackson nodded. "Three days, McCall." With that, he walked away.

Scott glared after him. A good minute passed before he was sure he wouldn't immediately kill Jackson on sight, and he was able to follow him into the locker room.

…

"So, ladies, what's the plan tonight?" Kate wondered, shifting around in her seat to look back at them, wearing a wide grin. "Facials and boy talk?"

Allison's nose scrunched. "Nah, no boy-talk. We've got some movies to watch."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Charlie's Angels, Aeon Flux, Resident Evil."

Kate nodded approvingly. "Kick-ass female leads, I like it."

"No Lydia tonight?" Chris wondered, glancing at them through the rear-view mirror. "I thought you were mostly a trio these days?"

Allison frowned. "We're taking a break from Lydia."

Malia nudged her, as if to say it wasn't really necessary, but Allison only looked over at her firmly. For all that Malia didn't want to be the reason Allison and Lydia's friendship took a hit, she appreciated Allison's loyalty. The thing was, she didn't know what she thought of Lydia. Obviously, she and Lydia weren't anywhere near best friends. But there had been moments that had felt a lot like bricks in a foundation toward friendship. It wasn't perfect. They were very different people, and usually Allison was their common ground. But occasionally, they were on the same page, and she kind of liked it that way. The whole thing with Scott was just… weird. Neither of them owed her any loyalty when it happened, but it still felt a lot like being stabbed in the back.

"Why? What happened?" Kate's brown furrowed. "She seems a little flighty, but otherwise harmless."

Flighty? Malia barely swallowed down a scoff. Lydia was anything but flighty. She was good at playing an airhead when she thought it fit the narrative, but it was all for show.

"She's not flighty," Allison said, a faint, disapproving edge to her voice.

Kate held a hand up in apology. "Sorry. Didn't mean to offend."

Allison pursed her lips. "She just made a mistake and we're taking some time while she figures it out."

"A mistake, huh?" Kate's eyes squinted. "Is it boy related?"

Seeing an opportunity, Malia said, "Actually, I forgot to tell you." To Allison, she said, "I overheard her and Jackson break up after school. After we left the pool, I was grabbing my stuff, and he dumped her in the hallway."

"What? I mean, I know they were having problems, but…" She chewed her lip, looking worried.

"Jackson?" Kate glanced at Chris. "Hey, he's that cute boy you pointed out, right?"

"Yeah." Allison dug her phone out and thumbed open Lydia's name in her messages. "He's co-captain of the lacrosse team."

Kate hummed. "Are you guys friends?"

Allison's mouth screwed up. "I wouldn't call us that… We're friendly, I guess. He was one of the first people I met when I started school, but… I don't know. We mostly talked because of Lydia."

Clearing his throat, Chris carefully probed, "Back when the school attack happened, Lydia was there with you. Was Jackson too?"

"Yeah." Allison's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Just wondering."

Skeptical, Allison smiled awkwardly. "Okay…"

"So, these movies?" Kate grinned then. "Room for one more?"

…

Scott walked to his locker, a towel strung around his waist, his mind still preoccupied with Stiles and Jackson. He swiped a head over his face, water dripping into his eyes, and reached for his bag. Around him, the locker room was emptying out quick.

"By the way, McCall, apology accepted."

Confused, Scott looked toward Danny. "I didn't apologize…"

Danny pulled on his t-shirt and shrugged. "Every time you got the ball tonight, you passed it to me."

With a faint grin, Scott said, "Every time I passed the ball to you, you scored.

Pulling his backpack over his shoulder, Danny nodded as he passed him by. "Apology accepted."

Relieved that any tension that might have cropped up was now put to rest, Scott turned his attention to getting dressed. He grabbed his deodorant from the shelf, but before he could pull the lid off, the lights above suddenly went dark. Putting the deodorant away, he took a look around, but couldn't see anybody. All of his teammates seemed to have left. Still, seeing as he was the last one Scott had seen, he called out, "Danny?"

No answer. Slowly, he made his way toward the light switch, but flicking them up and down did nothing. Confused, he took another look around.

And then, a white lacrosse ball rolled out from the shower, crossing the cement floor to knock into a row of lockers, ricocheting back to where it came.

"What the hell…?" Scott crossed the floor to pick it up. As he stepped into the doorway to the shower, his breath caught as he found Derek standing ominously ahead of him. The ball fell unceremoniously from his fingers and he marched toward him, angrily. "Thank God! Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea what's been going on!?"

Derek looked past him, over his shoulder.

Confused, Scott turned around.

Peter Hale stepped out from the shadows, fiddling with a lacrosse stick. "I really don't get lacrosse."

Scott took Peter in, completely different from the last time he'd seen him. Gone was any scarring or the wheelchair he'd been bound to. "It was you," Scott whispered.

"When I was in high school, we played basketball." Peter motioned with the lacrosse stick. "Now there's a real sport."

Baffled, Scott looked back to Derek, his eyes wide and searching. As if Derek could explain what the hell was happening, or what he should be doing.

"Still, I read somewhere that lacrosse comes from Native Americans tribes and that they played it to resolve conflict." Peter turned the stick up to rest against his shoulder, his brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Do I have that right? Hm. I have a little conflict of my own to resolve, Scott." He put the stick aside. "But I need your help to do it."

Scott glared at him. "I'm not helping you kill people."

"Well, I don't want to kill all of them… Just the responsible ones. And that doesn't have to include…" Peter looked to Derek to fill in the blanks.

"Allison."

Brow furrowed, Scott turned to him. "You're on his side?"

Derek's gaze moved to Peter.

"Are you forgetting the part where he killed your sister?"

"It was a mistake," Derek said blandly.

Scott's voice went up an octave. "What!?"

"It happens."

"Scott…" Peter drew the attention back to him. "I think you're getting the wrong impression of us. We really just want to help you reach your full potential."

"By killing my friends."

"Sometimes the people closest to you… can be the ones holding you back the most."

"If they're holding me back from becoming a psychotic nut job like you… I'm okay with that."

Peter walked toward him.

Startled, Scott glanced back at Derek, but found him blank-faced.

"Maybe… you could try and see things…" Peter unfolded his hand, his nails growing into claws. "…from my perspective." He reached around and plunged his nails into the nape of Scott's neck.

Pain spread from Scott's neck to every nerve-ending in his body. His eyes rolled back as he collapsed to the wet floor, his arms and legs seizing.

It played out in flashes in his head. The Hale fire, the people involved, Peter's recovery, his attacks on the bus driver and video store clerk. Scott could smell the acrid smoke and something else, something worse— burning, smoking flesh. Tears stung his eyes as the cries of Peter's family echoed in his ears. They were trapped, pulling at the barred windows as flames climbed all around them, smoke filling the air and their lungs. And then Laura Hale, walking through the dense woods toward a barely-aware Peter, under the influence of the moon. Becoming his victim, torn in half and left to rot. Scott remembered the hole, the grave, they'd found her in, the ground lit an eerie purple where the rope and the flowers had kept her in her wolf form. He stared down into the hole until the darkness swallowed him.

…

The last thing Malia expected was to wake up in the middle of the night and find herself alone in Allison's bedroom. A few minutes passed before the door opened and Allison tip-toed back inside.

"Pee break?"

Allison flinched. "Oh my God! You scared me!"

"You're the one wandering around." Malia shifted up the bed to rest her back against the headboard. "What's up? Why do you look like you just snuck in after curfew?"

Chewing her lip, Allison climbed up the bed to sit next to her. "I woke up and I couldn't find my necklace. I thought I put it in my books, but it wasn't there. So, I thought maybe I dropped it in the car."

"Did you?"

"No, at least I don't think so. While I was looking, the garage door started opening, so I hid."

"A totally normal reaction this late at night," Malia said wryly.

"I wasn't thinking." Allison shook her head. "It was just my dad and Kate."

Malia frowned. "Less normal at this hour."

"They were talking about something, about my dad teaching me something, and then Kate left this…" She held her hand out and unfurled her fingers to show something in her palm.

"What is it?"

"I think…" Allison turned it over. "I think it attaches to an arrow. See these notches? They'll fit over the right-sized arrowhead."

"And then what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. My dad said they saved his life a few times and then…" Her brow furrowed. "For a second, I thought Kate saw me. She put this on the table and then she left, almost like…"

"Like she wanted you to find it."

Allison stared at her. "Yeah."

Malia took a deep breath. "What do you want to do?"

"Tomorrow, after school… I want to use it. Will you come with me?"

Malia stared at her a moment. "Of course I will. But if it explodes and kills us, I'll never forgive you."

Allison rolled her eyes, but a smile pulled at her mouth. Shifting over on the bed, she reached out and carefully put it in her bedside drawer. Laying down once more, she pulled the blankets up and shifted so she was facing Malia. "What do you think Kate meant?"

"About what, teaching you?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know." Malia shrugged. "I know you said you trust her, but you also said you were afraid of her… I think you should remember that."

Allison's brow knit. "She wouldn't hurt me."

"Maybe not. I just think if your instincts are telling you to be afraid, you should listen to them… After all, you're not the only person she could hurt."

Allison stared at her a beat and then turned onto her back. "Yeah," she whispered.

Malia did the same.

It took a long time to fall back asleep.

…

Having hardly slept, an exhausted Malia woke up to a slew of missed texts from Stiles. The gist of which was that something very serious had happened and they all needed to talk, but that he was, for all intents and purposes, alive and mostly okay. Relieved, she felt her world right itself a little more. Rather than having breakfast with the family, Allison suggested they pick something up on the way to school and, anxious to see Scott and Stiles, Malia agreed. She was pretty sure Allison was doing her best to avoid having to spend time with her dad and her aunt until she had a better idea of what they were keeping from her and Malia was supporting that idea a hundred percent.

"So, after school? You're sure you're okay with going out to the woods and seeing what it does?"

Mouth full of muffin, Malia shoved it into one cheek like a chipmunk. "Yup. Still think we probably shouldn't be shooting strange, unknown things at trees. You know what Burny the Bear says. Only you can prevent forest fires."

"Isn't his name Smokey?"

"Burny, Smokey, same difference. At least Burney has alliteration on its side."

Allison snorted. "Either way, I don't think they'd just leave an explosive lying around for me."

Malia's eyes narrowed. "We'll see."

Shifting in her seat, Allison said, "I was thinking of inviting Lydia." She glanced at Malia worriedly. "Would you… I mean, is that okay? If she comes with us?"

"You want to set off possible explosives near Lydia Martin?"

"Emphasis on 'possible.'"

Malia shrugged. "I mean, sure, if you want to bring her along. I'm not going to start a protest or something."

"But it wouldn't hurt your feelings?"

"If you guys were friends again and you stopped giving her the silent treatment…?" Malia gave it some thought before saying, "No. Not really. I don't think I'll be calling her 'bestie' anytime soon, but that doesn't mean you can't."

"I'm kind of worried about her, after the whole Jackson break up…" Allison frowned. "Everything with Scott, I don't know why she did it. I have a theory, but it doesn't really excuse it."

"Because Jackson sucks balls and Scott doesn't?"

"Basically." Allison snorted. "Like I said, it doesn't excuse it, but I think she's been really struggling with Jackson and… You don't always see it, but the way Scott is with you… People envy that. Having someone who's so… focused. Like you're the only person that exists in his world."

"That'd be a pretty boring world, don't you think? Plus, Stiles would never let that happen. If there was some kind of apocalypse and Scott and I were the only two people alive, he would come back as a ghost. And not a friendly one. He would haunt us the whole time, strictly because we outlived him. He'd never let it go."

"Okay, maybe not that dramatic. But…" Allison took a deep breath. "Even when Scott and I were… semi-dating, it wasn't the same. He was sweet, definitely, but… Okay, when we were at the ice rink and you were having your panic attack, the way he calmed you down, the way he held you, it was…" She sighed. "If Lydia was having a panic attack, Jackson would tell her to pull it together, and then maybe abandon her."

"Yeah, like I said, grade-A asshole." Malia shifted in her seat to see her better. "I'm not saying Scott isn't awesome. He is. But comparing Scott and Jackson is liking apples and grapefruit. They're both mostly round but that's about where the similarities end." She shrugged. "I'm not going to say Scott doesn't treat me better because he does. Scott would treat anybody better than Jackson does. So, I can get why Lydia might be jealous or envious or whatever. It's kind of hard not to be when you realize your boyfriend is a tool. But hanging out with me, listening to me talk about Scott, telling me I should go for it, and then making out with him… That's the part I'm stuck on."

"I know and I totally agree!" Allison's eyes widened meaningfully. "Which is why I'll understand if you don't want Lydia to come or you want to just never hang out with her again."

Malia shook her head. "I'm not going to dictate your friends for you. You get to choose who you want around you. If you see something in Lydia that you like, then great. Be her friend. I'll tolerate her because you like her. But we're not going to be friends. And honestly, she'd probably prefer it that way."

"I don't know. I thought you were growing on her."

"Like a fungus, she'd say."

Allison snorted. "So, today…?"

"Bring her along. Tell her to wear her best heels for the hike through the woods."

[tbc]

author's note: apologies for the long wait! on the bright side, you'll be happy to know that, pre-editing, i've written another 65k of this story and have, officially, completed it. i'll be going through and editing what i have, so it might grow a little beyond that. but otherwise, the story is complete with 6 more chapters to be posted, bringing the total to 35 chapters. :) i'm very excited to share these last chapters with you. it's been a long road and i appreciate so much that you've all stuck with me. this is the longest single fic i've ever written and i'm really proud of how it's evolved and where these characters have gone.

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