Episodes: Formality (1x11)

XXXII

It would be an understatement to say that Scott was tired, sore, and more than a little anxious, given the general state of his life currently. It didn't help that he'd skipped early-morning practice; it was a miracle he wouldn't be missing first period. As if the universe wanted to add to his already teetering pile of screw ups, he found himself following Coach Finstock around the locker room, panicked. "What do you mean I can't go to the formal?"

"McCall, you're failing my class and two others. They told me to cut you from team..." Finstock spun around to face him. "I told them I'd sooner cut off my last remaining testicle than cut my best player." He clapped Scott on the arm, grinning with manic pride.

"So… the compromise is I can't go to the dance?"

Crossing his arms, Finstock nodded. "Yeah."

Thinking it through, admittedly very little, Scott decided, "Then I quit the team."

Letting out a snorting laugh, Finstock shook his head. "No, you don't. And if you show up at the dance and I see you there…" He poked Scott's chest. "I'm gonna drag you out by your teeth." With that, he turned and walked into his office; conversation over.

Scott stared at Finstock's closed door, his shoulders slumped.

Stiles appeared next to him. "Well, that didn't look good. What happened?"

"I can't go to the dance."

Stiles blinked. "Okay, so, it's one dance. It sucks, but you'll survive. I think we've got bigger issues on our plate. Bigger, hunter-shaped issues."

"I know." Scott sighed. "But Malia…"

"She's been to a dance before. A lot of dances, actually. I don't think missing one is going to bug her too much. And hey, we can do something else instead, all right? We could go bowling! Get a couple pizzas, ask for the bumpers. Or not, since you seem to be a better bowler…" Stiles pulled a face. "Actually, why am I setting myself up for failure? We should do something that doesn't require a ton of coordination, and that you and Malia won't make me look like a complete idiot. Like… pinball or something."

Scott snorted. "Pinball?"

Clapping his hands, Stiles rubbed them together. "Yeah, a good ol' game of competitive pinball."

"As fun as that sounds, I was really hoping to go to the dance…" He took a deep breath. "When I asked Malia, it was more like… a date."

"What? When?" Stiles' swung his arms around chaotically. "In between bullets?"

Panicked, Scott shushed him and looked around the locker room to make sure they weren't overheard. The rest of their teammates seemed to be distracted with getting changed and hurrying off to first period.

Wincing, Stiles mouthed, "Sorry."

Dragging Stiles to the door, he urged him out into the hallway, where the noise of the other students would help drown out their conversation. "It was after the shooting… We were in the woods and I was kind of bleeding out, I think."

"Ahh, okay." Stiles nodded. "So, it was super romantic then."

Scott grinned goofily. "Kind of. In its own weird way."

"Sure, what girl doesn't love holding their kind-of boyfriend as he bleeds out and asks her to go to winter formal."

Scott sighed. "What am I gonna do?"

"Uhhh… raincheck?"

"But it was supposed to be special!" Scott's head fell back as he groaned. "I can't just cancel on her. We just talked about it this morning. And now I have to tell her I'm failing school and I can't take her to the dance? I sound like a loser!"

"Or an extremely overwhelmed teenage werewolf that's just having a hard time juggling everything." Stiles gripped Scott's shoulder and gave him a grounding shake. "Scott, look, Malia isn't going to care about going to some formal, all right? She cares about you. If you tell her you can't go and you need to do something else, she'll understand."

"I know… But I want this." Clenching his teeth, he let out a gusty sigh, his shoulders slumping. "I- I want just one thing to be normal. And this dance was supposed to be that."

"Well, what are the chances you manage to stop failing three classes in one day?"

"Zero."

"Okay, so let's start thinking about a Plan B…" Stiles smirked. "Like sneaking into the school…"

Scott perked up hopefully. "You think that'd work?"

"What's Coach gonna do?" Stiles scoffed. "Kick his best player off the team? Come on…"

…

When Malia's alarm went off, she startled awake, blinking wide, exhausted eyes at her empty bedroom. A very convincing part of her wanted to just switch the alarm off and go right back to sleep, but she couldn't do that. There was too much to do and too little time to waste. Grabbing her phone off her bedside table, she checked her messages with one eye while her hand scrubbed crust out of the other.

Her messages were the usual mix of people, minus Scott, whose phone was apparently still missing. Good thing Stiles made up for it by texting twice as much: Stiles (13), Danny (2), Erica (2), Allison (1)—

Allison.

—'Hey, noticed you weren't at school… I hope I didn't totally freak you out last night. I know I was being weird and crazy but I had a really strange night… I've been thinking a lot about what you said. Can we talk about it some more?'

Malia stared at the words until her eyes burned. Finally, she pushed herself up to sit against the headboard of her bed and folded her legs under her. She chewed on the edge of her thumb as she thought about her answer before finally typing back. —'hey, yeah I was just really tired. I'll be there after lunch. we can talk after school if you want?'

A minute passed and then another. Malia considered just putting the phone away and giving it some time while she got ready. Allison was probably in class and wouldn't have time to reply for—

—'I'd like that. Actually, I was hoping to go shopping for formal. You in?'

Malia let out the breath she was holding. —'I'm in'

…

Freshly showered, Malia stepped out onto the porch with a smile when she found Stiles waiting for her.

He nodded hello before drumming his hands atop the hood of his Jeep. "Obligatory 'show me the bullet wound' moment."

Rolling her eyes, she hopped off the porch and crossed toward him, already tugging her shirt up and out of the way. "It's basically healed. I think it'd be totally healed if I wasn't worrying so much."

He squinted down at her wound as she peeled the dressing back from it. "Worrying?"

Malia shrugged. "Kind of hard not to when hunters are on the loose, Derek is missing, and Jackson is being extra assholeish."

"Ouch." Stiles whistled. "Still looks a little raw. But… definitely not fresh."

"Yeah, Deaton put something on it." She smoothed the bandage back down and readjusted her shirt. "He said it would help speed up recovery, but I don't think he planned on me going for a three-hour hike."

Stiles pointed his thumb back at the Jeep before moving around to the driver's side. "That long?"

Malia climbed into the passenger seat. "I went across town looking for Jackson. Turns out he ran home and just decided to pretend he didn't know we might be dying in the woods." She rolled her eyes. "Derek was harder though. I couldn't find him anywhere. I'd get like whiffs of his scent but then they'd be gone. I wish I knew more about chemosignals or tracking or something."

Frowning, Stiles pulled his jeep back from her house and made his way out toward the main road. "Hey, you know what happened to Derek isn't your fault, right?"

Letting out a heavy sigh, Malia fell back against the seat, her shoulders slumped. "I'm the one that told him about Jackson. If he didn't know Jackson was blackmailing us, none of us would've been at the Hale house."

"Except Derek," Stiles reminded. "And the Argents still would've hunted him down."

Malia shook her head. "Maybe they would've tried, but he might've gotten away. With us there… He knew that Scott was hit with a laced bullet and he made the choice to distract the hunters so we could get away."

Stiles pulled a face, clearly skeptical.

"I know! I know what you're thinking. He's working with Peter and he went there to kill Jackson. He's not exactly the good guy right now. And I probably sound like a dumbass trying to defend him. But… I don't think he would've done it. Maybe he was just trying to scare the hell out of Jackson so he'd stop. I don't know. But I can't believe that he would kill some 16-year-old kid just because his uncle told him to."

"Jackson is a dick, and I'll be the first to admit I probably wouldn't cry if he bit the big one. But we grew up with him. Derek didn't. Okay? And Jackson's putting a lot of people at risk by using what he knows to get what he wants. He knows there are hunters in town. He knows that the information he has could get you killed. So, maybe it's not just a matter of right or wrong… Maybe it's survival."

Malia paused for a moment. "Are you… defending Derek?"

Stiles tipped his head side to side. "I'm just saying I understand why he'd think taking Jackson out of the equation might be the only option."

"Uh-huh…" Malia shook her head. "The point is, whether he was going to do it or not, the Argents might have him… And I'm pretty sure Allison knows something is going on."

"Pretty sure or really sure?"

"She called me last night. It was right after I left the clinic. She picked me up and she was just anxious... Like, on the verge of hysteria kind of anxious."

Stiles' gaze bounced from her to the road and back. "Do you think she found out about her family?"

"I think so. She was talking about monsters. And then she asked me if I knew that stopping someone would mean saving lives, would I do it?"

Stiles nodded, his eyes narrowed as he thought it through, hands tapping against the steering wheel. "So, does she mean the Alpha or Derek?

"Both? Neither? Maybe she meant her own parents." Malia grimaced. "All I know is that she looked like her whole world was turned upside down and she needed comfort or support or something."

"What'd you tell her?" Stiles wondered. "Would you do it?"

"I told her it had to be her choice. Nobody else's." Her gaze darted outside to the passing trees. "She has to be totally sure about what she's doing."

Stiles stared at her a beat. "What if she chooses to be a hunter?"

Malia's face fell. "I don't know."

…

Scott lit up as Malia stopped next to him while he was digging through his locker. "Hey!"

"Hey." She hooked a finger in the end of his shirt and gave it a tug. "How're you feeling?"

"Good! Good, I…" His gaze dropped to her stomach and he leaned a little closer, his voice lowering. "Mine's almost gone. Yours?"

"Mostly." She shrugged. "I think I might've stunted the healing process a bit."

His brow furrowed with worry. "Are you okay? Maybe we should drop by the clinic, see if Deaton—"

"Scott," she interrupted, a faint smile pulling at her mouth. "I'm fine. I really think it was just the extra walking around. Plus, Deaton said that a Beta might not heal as quick if they're distracted. I've sort of had a lot on my mind lately."

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense." He reached out, the tip of his finger faintly brushing the outline of the dressing through her shirt. "Does it hurt?"

"Not really." She rested her shoulder against the lockers. "I think sleeping helped. I could still use a nap, but I feel okay."

Scott nodded. "Maybe we could do that after school? Go back to my place and just… sleep."

"I wish. But I kind of promised Allison I'd go dress shopping with her." She bit her lip. "You still want to go to the formal, right?"

"Yes!" He winced when his voice came out a little too loud. "I mean, yes."

She smiled. "Okay. So, rain check on the nap." She glanced around quickly. "Maybe we could meet up after though? Plus, I'd really like to see your mom. I've been worried about her since you mentioned her date with Peter."

"Okay, yeah." He nodded, briefly wondering if he seemed as eager as he felt. "Later tonight."

"I'd text you but I'm guessing your phone is still missing?"

He slumped. "Yeah. I've looked everywhere. I checked the whole car, my room, I can't find it. It's gotta be in the woods."

"Or at Derek's house. Maybe it fell out while everything was happening."

"Maybe…" He frowned. "I'll have to go back."

"Don't go alone," she cautioned. "Bring Stiles if you have to go."

A wry smile pulled at his mouth. "So, he can help carry me through the woods like you did?"

"Or call for help if things go sideways, yeah." She stared at him seriously. "Just be careful."

"I will."

Malia hesitated then, before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "See you tonight."

Scott's voice fell an octave as he replied, "Tonight."

Malia hesitated a moment, her gaze bouncing around his face, and then she was walking away, her breathing slightly unsteady.

Scott grinned to himself. At least he wasn't the only one affected; she was just as nervous and excited as he was.

…

Malia was on her way to class when Allison fell into step next to her, knocking her shoulder lightly. "Hey."

"Hey." Allison tucked her hair behind her ear and half-smiled. "So, is this the part where I talk about how totally weird and embarrassing last night was or can we mostly skip that part?"

"We can table it until later, but I think skipping it totally might not be an option." Malia stared at her searchingly. "Are you okay?"

Allison flushed and ducked her eyes. "I'm… figuring that out."

"Okay…" Malia nodded. "Anything I can help with?"

"Uh, not with that, but maybe something else." Allison frowned and squeezed the books in her arms. "So, for the formal tomorrow."

"Yeah?"

"Jackson asked me to go."

Malia stopped abruptly. "Jackson?"

Biting her lip, Allison nodded. "Yeah. As friends." She rushed to say, "I didn't agree! I was going to talk to you about it yesterday, after school, but then the thing with your cousin and… Anyway, he asked, and I said I'd think about it."

Malia blinked. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why even think about it?" Malia's brow furrowed. "Jackson's a dick."

"I don't know…" Allison shrugged. "He seemed pretty bummed after what happened with Lydia… and I don't have anybody else to go with."

"So, go with Lydia! Or Stiles. Or hell, Greenburg." She paused. "Okay, maybe not Greenburg, but you know what I mean."

"I thought about Stiles," Allison admitted.

Surprised, Malia's eyebrows hiked. "You did?"

"Yeah, but I was thinking something different..."

"Different how?"

"Well, I had a thought."

"What kind of thought?"

She smirked. "A devious one."

Malia squinted, curious. "I'm listening…"

"Lydia won't outright say it, but I think she's ashamed of what happened and she's trying to make up for it. Not exactly to the right person, but I don't think she's ready to say it to you yet. She offered to buy my dress to the formal, but I was thinking, since Stiles obviously has a crush on her, maybe we could get her to be his date…"

"You think she'd go for that?"

"I think she owes you and Stiles would be forever grateful."

Malia hummed. "Couldn't hurt to try."

"Great." Allison grinned. "So, we'll all just go dress shopping together and talk then."

Malia's mouth flat-lined. "I didn't say I wanted to be involved in the emotional blackmail."

"Come on…" Allison cajoled. "You already agreed to come dress shopping with me. Also, I kind of just want to forget about everything else and I feel like shopping for a few hours will help with that."

"Okay, why do I feel like I'm being emotionally blackmailed now?"

"Just a little," Allison teased.

"Fine," she sighed. "But I have a budget. A very small one."

Allison shrugged. "I could contribute, if you want."

"Thank you, but I'm good." They started walking again and Malia hooked her arm through Allison's. "But Jackson? Seriously? I could find at least three better people to take you."

Allison laughed. "If you find me a better date by the end of the day, I'll consider it."

…

Scott looked up from where he was tucking books in his bag. "So, Allison is going to Winter Formal with Jackson?"

"He asked her. She hasn't said yes yet." Frowning, Malia fell back against the bank of lockers. "Would it be weird to set her up with Cole?"

"A little, yeah." Stiles' brows hiked. "You'd be okay with that?"

Malia shrugged. "Cole's great. And I'm like 75% sure he's not a secret serial killer or hunter."

Scott and Stiles exchanged a look before Stiles asked, "Only 75?"

"Maybe 80." Malia tapped her phone against her chin. "I feel like Allison might not go for it. It starts to feel like a weird game of musical romantic partners."

"So, not Cole." Stiles snapped his fingers. "What about that blonde freshman you guys hang out with sometimes?"

"Erica?" Malia paused thoughtfully. "That could work…"

Scott made a disagreeable noise. "As much as we don't like Jackson, at least he knows what's going on and can be on the look out for anything weird. Shouldn't we consider that?"

Malia frowned. "What, like Peter showing up at a school dance? What's Jackson going to do? Run and hide while Peter tears out Allison's throat? No. I'd rather pick someone I know will watch out for her."

"And you think Erica will?" Stiles wondered.

"Erica's loyal. She might not be able to fight off an Alpha werewolf, but at least I know she wouldn't ditch Allison to get killed."

Scott's brow furrowed. "Is that fair to Erica? We're basically asking her to go so she can possibly run interference for something she doesn't know could happen…"

Stiles sighed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah, I was kind of okay with Jackson getting ganked, but some poor freshman… Feels weird."

"Nobody's getting ganked." Malia rolled her eyes. "Erica's smart and cautious. I'll just encourage them to stay inside where it's safe and we can all keep an eye on each other."

"You mean where I can keep an eye on them because you two—" Stiles motioned between them. "—will only have eyes for each other."

Malia snorted. "Did I mention we were working on getting you a date with Lydia?" She walked past him then, en route to Erica's locker.

"You what? Hey!" Stiles called after her. "Don't play with my heart like this! Malia? Malia!"

…

Erica closed her locker, only to jump when she found Malia standing behind it. "Jesus Christ."

Malia winced. "Sorry."

"It's fine. I'm just… extra jumpy, I guess." She shrugged her backpack higher. "What's up?"

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

Erica's brow furrowed. "Besides homework?"

"Yeah." Malia nodded. "Are you going to the formal?"

"I wasn't planning to… Why?"

This was Malia's opportunity to change her mind, to leave Erica out of it. But the idea of Allison relying on Jackson just sat wrong in her stomach. He'd already proven he wouldn't stick around to make sure anybody else lived. At least with Erica, Malia knew Allison had a chance. "Do you want to?"

"I guess. But I don't really have a date, so…" Face flushed with embarrassment, Erica's eyes darted away. "That'd be kind of lame, wouldn't it?"

"Me, Scott, and Stiles used to go together all the time." Malia waved it off. "Allison doesn't have a date either, so if you wanted to go… Maybe you could go as friends."

Erica perked up, looking hopeful. "She'd be okay with me tagging along?"

"Did you miss the 'friends' part? You'd be hanging out, not shadowing her." Malia half-grinned. "And I'll be there too. Scott asked me to go."

Erica smirked then. "Oh yeah?"

Malia rolled her eyes. "Anyway… If you wanna go, me, Allison, and Lydia are going dress shopping, well, now. So, if you're in…?"

"Oh. Uh, sure. Okay."

"Great." Malia started down the hall with Erica following. "I hope you like Macy's, because if I know Lydia, we'll be there a while."

…

"I don't want to rush you, but I'm supposed to be at the mall right now…" Stiles straddled a backwards desk chair, watching an anxious Scott overturn his bedroom, tossing things in every direction.

Scott dropped to the floor and began pulling out shoes frantically

Stiles sighed. "Didn't you already check there?"

"Yes!" Scott cried, climbing back out. "I looked everywhere. But the only other place it could be is the woods or Derek's and I'm not exactly eager to go back into the preserve when the last time I was there, I was shot!"

"Okay, so…" Stiles shrugged. "Get a new phone."

"I don't have the money for that." Scott dropped back to sit on his bed, his arms hanging limply between his knees. "What money I do have, I was gonna put toward getting a suit. A really cheap, second-hand suit."

"So, priorities, dude. Wear your dad's old suit and save up for a new phone."

Scott sighed and fell backwards against his bed. "I need to go to the preserve."

"And we're back at square one." Stiles frowned. "Is this about the phone or Derek?"

"I need to find him." Scott felt responsible. If he hadn't been shot and Derek hadn't been trying to help him, he wouldn't have gone out to face the hunters. At the same time, he couldn't forget why they were all there in the first place. Either way, he felt like he needed to do something. "If he's out there and the Argents caught him—"

"Caught or killed? Didn't you say he walked into a hail of gunfire? 'Cause the story I'm getting from you and Malia is that he played the distraction while you two got away. Even if they weren't using the same laced bullets on him that they got you with, he sounds pretty dead."

"Argent's plan was to use him to get to the Alpha." Scott made his way to his bathroom and started searching through his laundry pile, throwing loose clothes back into his bedroom. "What if they just wounded him so they could capture him?"

"Then what was the point of the laced bullets?"

"Same as last time. When they got him then, he had 48 hours to live. So, they promise him they'll give him the cure and then leverage it for information." Still unable to find his phone, Scott returned to his bedroom, eyes scanning for anywhere he hadn't yet looked. "Which means he's out there somewhere, in a lot of pain, maybe on the verge of death."

"Okay, so, not to be the murder-hungry one in the group but, what if we just let them do what they're planning?" Stiles raised his shoulders in a shrug. "They use him to get Peter and problem solved. No more Alpha."

"Not if Peter goes after Allison to get Derek back." Scott searched the shelves of his desk. "I know Malia trusts Erica, but there's no way she can protect Allison or even herself from Peter. Plus, Peter already tried to use my mom as leverage. What if he does it again as some kind of bargaining chip? Like, to get me to lure Allison out for information so I can save my mom. There are too many variables!"

Stiles frowned thoughtfully. "Would you?"

"Huh?"

"Would you sacrifice Allison to save your mom?"

"I- I don't… I mean, no." Scott's brow furrowed. "I'd like to think I'd be able to figure a way around that."

"Look, Allison comes from a family of hunters, okay? Even if Peter tries something, don't you think her family will save her? For all we know, they'll be hiding in the shadows to keep an eye on her. They have to know that the Alpha will target her now that they've taken Derek. Right? And if not, that's just poor planning on their part." Stiles drummed his hands on the back of the seat. "Maybe the only option here is to just let things play out… Derek made his bed when he decided to try and kill Jackson. You remember that part? Where he tried to kill Jackson and then you?"

"He wasn't going to kill anyone."

Stiles rolled his eyes, unconvinced.

"You weren't there, but he was hesitating."

"If you didn't think he was going to kill him, why'd you run halfway across town to stop him?"

"Because… When Peter said that, I did think Derek could do it. But when I got there, something was different…" Scott frowned. "Derek hesitated. Like he didn't want to kill Jackson. Like… Like maybe he wanted us to stop him."

"What? Why?"

"Because maybe that's just not who he is. Maybe that's what Peter wants him to be, but he doesn't have it in him."

Stiles tipped his head, still looking skeptical. "Are you sure about that?"

Scott sighed. "No. But I know I need to find out for sure and the only way to do that is to find Derek."

"So, does this mean you're going out to the preserve?"

Scott clenched his teeth. "I promised Malia I wouldn't go alone. But you can't come because you're going to Macy's."

"Then go later. Derek's got 48 hours, right?" Stiles shrugged. "It's only been like… 18, give or take. Depending on if you're right about the laced bullet theory."

"I told Malia we'd hang out tonight, after shopping."

"So, make it a date." Stiles waved an arm encouragingly. "Go wander the woods together, see what happens. And hey, if you find some hunters, you've got a great excuse since Malia lives in the preserve."

"Maybe." Scott turned to the window as he heard the familiar whine of his mom's car brakes.

Noticing, Stiles asked, "What?"

"My Mom just got home from work."

Outside in her car, a nervous Melissa was making a phone call. "Hi. It's me. Melissa McCall. I'm… giving you a call." She let out a strained laugh. "That always sounds really weird because of my last name— McCall. So, yeah… Um. You know, I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to reschedule dinner or lunch. It doesn't have to be dinner. Lunch is good. Or maybe you'd like to do coffee, or maybe you're a tea drinker. I don't know. You know, we could also just go out for drinks. Yeah, 'cause I think I need a few after this profoundly embarrassing phone call. So, if it really doesn't freak you out too much after this disastrous call, feel free to, um, give me a call…"

Scott's face fell and his stomach twisted in a knot.

Worried, Stiles asked, "Is she okay?"

Scott shook his head.

"What's she doing?"

"Crying." Dating for his mom was… rare. He had a feeling it was equal parts not having much time off from work and still healing from how things ended with Scott's dad. She was always excited when someone did come along, but nobody ever lasted long. For the most part, Scott had been okay with that. Even preferred it. It had been just him and his mom for most of his life. But, she deserved to be happy, and he hated knowing she wasn't. He especially hated that the person making her cry right now was Peter Hale, of all people. The last guy who could ever deserve his mom. And someone who had specifically asked her out to manipulate the situation.

Pushing away from his desk, Scott crossed to his bed and slumped down. Everything was so screwed up. How the hell did his life get like this? And how was he supposed to fix it? For himself or his mom or Malia or Allison or Derek or anyone?

Scott's inner turmoil must have been easy to read because Stiles' voice was quiet and knowing as he said, "Scott, you can't protect everyone."

Scott shook his head. "I have to."

…

"When you said you'd find me a date, I thought you'd at least stick to our grade our higher."

Malia glanced over to where Erica was making a call to her parents to let them know she was going shopping with friends. "She's better than Jackson, isn't she?"

Allison rolled her eyes, amused. "You'd think a paper bag was better than Jackson."

"And I wouldn't be wrong." Malia shrugged. "Look, we all want to go to the dance, and this was the best solution I could come up with. Well, this and Cole, but Stiles said that would be weird."

Allison's brows arched and her mouth folded to hide a smile, her dimples popping. "It would be."

"Hey, Cole is cute." Malia hip-bumped her. "You said so yourself."

"Yeah. But I think at this point we've met our quota on shared partners."

Malia snorted. "Small quota, but okay."

"Anyway, you're probably right. Going as friends will be fun." Allison scrunched up her nose. "Plus, I've third-wheeled with Jackson and Lydia enough to know he's a boring date."

"Plus, he's a dick."

Allison laughed. "That too."

Erica walked over to them then. "I think my mom cried when she found out I was going to formal. She might be polishing her old homecoming tiaras right now."

Malia nodded. "A tiara could be cool."

"Let's hope not." Erica shuddered. "I don't need that kind of attention on me. This is not a Cinderella moment."

"I beg to differ." Lydia shrugged her jean jacket off and hung it over her arm before flipping her copper hair over her shoulder. "If I'm going to be seen with you at formal, all of you are going to be looking like a fairy godmother just bippity-boppity-booped you into existence." She strode toward the escalator then, expecting them to follow.

Amused, Allison joined her.

With a roll of her eyes, Malia followed along with Erica.

Stepping onto the escalator, Lydia eyed Allison. "Are you okay? You seem distracted."

"I just have a lot on my mind."

Lydia hummed. "You could smile, at least. Ever heard of the saying, 'Never frown. Someone could be falling in love with your smile?'"

Allison snorted.

"Smile, Allison." Lydia reached over to tap Allison's arm. "I'm buying you a dress."

"You know your apology should be pointed in another direction, right?"

Lydia sniffed. "As if she'd let me have any control over her fashion choices."

"It's not about control, it's about amends… But I'm pretty sure she'd turn you down anyway."

Lydia pretended to pick invisible lint off her jacket.

"But I do have something else in mind. It won't erase what happened, but it's a step."

Lydia shifted uncertainly. "And what would this 'something' entail?"

"Cancelling on whatever dumb, 'roided-up jock you said yes to and going with somebody else." They stepped off the escalator and walked a few feet away, waiting a moment for Malia and Erica to join them.

Lydia's gaze bounced from Allison to Malia and back. "Who?"

Turning, Allison looked toward the perfume counter, where Stiles was sniffing at a bottle curiously. "Him."

Malia smiled fondly at her idiot best friend who managed to spray himself and was now sneezing on a cloud of perfume. "Idiot," she muttered to herself.

Erica laughed under her breath.

Lydia, on the hand, looked upset. Her face had fallen and she was watching Stiles with a mixture of regret and irritation, her foot tapping an anxious staccato against the floor.

"Aww, don't frown, Lydia." Allison turned to her smugly. "Someone could be falling in love with your smile."

When Lydia glared at her, Allison merely grinned and shrugged.

Spotting them, Stiles smiled and waved.

Malia made her way over. "Hey, you know a little goes a long way, right?"

Stiles quickly wiped a hand down his front. "Can, uh, can you smell it on me?"

"I can smell like four different perfumes, yeah." She urged him away from the perfume counter. "Try to air yourself out, and hope to hell she doesn't have a sensitive nose."

He grimaced. "Is it that bad?" He started smelling himself, drawing his shirt up to his nose and inhaling deeply before ducking his head down to his armpits.

Malia made a face. "Why would you think that was better?"

"She doesn't exactly look thrilled, okay?" Stiles' gaze darted from her to Lydia. "I didn't want to add sweat and desperation to the mix."

"So, you thought Estee Lauder's 'Beautiful' was the way to go?" Erica gave him a sniff and shook her head. "My mom wears that."

"Y—Your mom? I smell like someone's mom?" He turned a panicked look on Malia.

"Don't look at me," she said. "I can't un-perfume you."

"Oh God— What do I do?" He turned big eyes on Malia and Erica, swiveling back and forth. "Can I wash it off?"

"Sure, take a bath in the mall fountain." Malia snorted. "Why didn't you just stick with deodorant?"

"I did! But Scott was freaking out at this house. I didn't exactly have time to freshen up. Deodorant didn't seem like enough and I was just sniffing around. I didn't mean to spray myself down with it."

Allison approached then, curious eyes bouncing around each of them. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah! Yes, everything is—" Stiles gave her a big thumbs up. "Totally cooool…"

She blinked at him. "Uh, okay…" Her brow furrowed before she glanced at Malia. "Lydia's already headed for the dresses. Are we ready?"

"Sure." Malia bumped her shoulder against Stiles. "Just try to stand downwind of her."

He folded his mouth and sent her a flat look.

Grinning, Malia hooked arms with Allison and Erica and tugged them toward Macy's.

…

Malia paused on a dress— black with long sleeves of dense lace. It was simple and beautiful. Not bright or shiny or especially sexy. Just… simple and kind of elegant.

Lydia appeared next to her and sniffed disapprovingly. "We're going to a formal, not a funeral."

Malia, partly-defiant and partly because she liked it, plucked the dress from the rack and folded it over her arm.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Does this make us even?"

Malia's brow furrowed. "Huh?"

"Are. We. Even?" Lydia stared up at her impatiently. "I made a mistake kissing Scott. A consensual one, mind you, but still. I knew how you felt about him and I… ignored that. It was a mistake and I regret it."

"Okay…"

"So, are we okay? Can we go back to being… whatever?" Lydia raised her chin, looking haughty. "I mean, we'll never be best friends, but we can be cordial. For Allison's sake, at least."

Amused, Malia shrugged. "Sure. For Allison."

"Good." Lydia snapped her fingers then and put three dresses in Stiles' arms before she moved to another rack.

"Okay, ow." Stiles ducked away from the sharp curve of a clothing hanger. "So, you're going to try these on now? All of them?"

Lydia looked between two dresses, put one back and the other atop his teetering stack. Without a word, she started toward the dressing room.

Stiles looked back at Malia, who had exactly zero pity for him, before hurrying after Lydia. "Is this a 24-hour Macy's?"

Erica's gaze followed them while her hands continued to absently pass over dresses.

Malia watched her a moment before letting her gaze wander back to Stiles just as he not-so-artfully dodged a dress rack right before he walked into it. That was… interesting… "You should try talking to him. He doesn't bite."

Startled, Erica's gaze quickly returned to the dresses. "What? Who?"

Malia's mouth quirked up at the corner, an eyebrow raised. "How long have you liked Stiles?"

A pink flush filled Erica's cheeks. "I don't."

"Uh-huh." Malia plucked a red dress out and handed it to her. "Here. This color will look good on you."

Erica eyed the dress uncertainly before eventually taking it. "You think?"

"Definitely. How are you gonna wear your hair? Up, down, 80's side-ponytail?"

Erica snorted. "I don't know. I think my mom will already have a plan when I get home. I appreciate her enthusiasm or whatever, but I don't want her to get her hopes up."

"She can't be mad you didn't get prom queen if it's just a winter formal. Anyway, don't let her ruin it for you. We're gonna have fun."

Erica started to smile but then paused, her brow furrowed as she stared at something over Malia's shoulder. "Who's the guy talking to Allison?"

Malia turned, searching out Allison's familiar figure. Spotting her, a cold sensation filled Malia's chest and dropped down into her gut. For a moment, it felt like every muscle in her body had turned painfully rigid. She drew a deep breath in through her nose and let it out slowly. "Why don't you go try yours on? I'll grab Allison and we'll meet you by the dressing room."

Erica frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Definitely."

Erica hesitated, but eventually backed up and turned on her heel to walk toward the dressing room. She glanced back a few times but didn't stop.

Malia started toward Allison, who was noticeably nervous. She was fidgeting with the fabric of the dress she was holding, her chin dipped low, and her big brown eyes staring up at Peter. Malia stretched her hearing out to catch what they were saying.

"…considering your skin tone, I'd go lighter."

Allison nodded, looking self-conscious. "'Cause I'm pale?"

"Fair," Peter corrected with a smile. "I mean, you can't call skin like yours pale." He laughed lightly, charmingly. "Not skin that perfect."

Malia's stomach turned and she had to dig her fingers into her palms when she felt the tips begin to tingle, a sign she was on the verge of shifting.

Allison smiled and laughed awkwardly. "Okay." She hung the dress back up and then tugged at the sleeves of her jacket, trying to hide her hands.

"Trust me, I have a unique perspective on the subject…" Peter turned to grab a silver dress from a nearby rack and then took Allison's hand. "Do you mind?"

Allison's mouth opened and closed, shocked silent, and her shoulders hunched forward.

Malia reached them then and could see Allison let out a relieved breath. "Hey."

"Hey!" Allison's voice rose an octave. "Where's everyone else?"

"Change rooms." Malia eyed Peter, who was busy admiring the dress he'd picked out. Her gaze fell to where he gripped Allison's hand and her lip curled. "Do you work here?"

"Me?" Peter laughed lightly. "No, no. Just a… friendly shopper."

"Have you heard of being too friendly?" Malia raised a judgemental eyebrow.

Peter grinned slowly. "I apologize if I've overstepped a boundary. I was only trying to make a suggestion." He released Allison's hand and she quickly retracted it, hugging her arm around herself as she shifted closer to Malia.

"See?" He held the dress aloft. "Much more her color."

Malia plucked it from his outstretched hand and passed it over to Allison without breaking eye contact from Peter. "Thanks. We'll take it into consideration."

Peter's mouth twitched before his gaze fell to the dress looped over her own arm. "Both shopping for dresses, I see… High school dance?"

In a meek voice, Allison answered, "Formal."

"May I?" Peter reached for the sleeve of Malia's dress but she shifted it out of reach. "I didn't ask for an opinion."

"Prickly, aren't you?" He eyed her a moment, searching her face. "I like a girl with bite."

"I kick too. And Allison here has a taser." Allison tugged at Malia's sleeve, but she wouldn't be moved. She stared at Peter even as her heart thumped loudly and angrily in her chest.

Peter held his hands up and smiled. "My apologies. I seem to have overstayed my welcome. I'll leave you to your shopping." He bowed his head to say goodbye and then let his gaze linger on Allison. "Have fun at your formal."

"Thanks," she murmured.

Malia watched Peter walk away until he was out of sight. Then, she turned to Allison. "Are you okay? That guy was seriously creepy."

Chewing her lip, Allison nodded. "Yeah. He gave off kind of a weird vibe, but…" She shrugged. "He did pick a really nice dress."

Humming, Malia glanced at it. "Let's see what it looks like on." She tugged on Allison's arm, directing them toward the dressing rooms, and squashed the urge to find Peter and throw him off the roof.

Stiles was sitting on a bench, chin resting on his upturned hand while he drummed his fingers against his knee. He perked up when he saw them, but then paused when he caught the look on Malia's face. "Everything… okay?"

Allison nodded. "Yeah, just a weird moment." She ducked into a changing room then, hugging the dress to her tightly.

Malia took a seat on the bench next to him. "Peter showed up," she said quietly.

"What?" Stiles' head swiveled around, searching the area. "Is he still around?"

"Probably. He went right for Allison but he backed off when I showed up."

"Well, that's something, I guess." He frowned. "Is she okay?"

"She will be. She just looked… spooked." Malia sighed. "I didn't think he'd do it so publicly. It was like he was trying to prove a point."

"What kind of point?"

"That he's not scared. That he can get to her anywhere, even the middle of a crowded mall." She clenched her teeth. "What if this is a bad idea? What if the formal turns into a blood bath?"

"Well, what's the alternative?" Stiles wondered. "You guys stay home and he just picks her off in her own house?"

"Maybe! At least in her house she has her hunter parents to keep her safe."

"For how long?" Stiles shook his head. "Look, if Peter is as dangerous as we think he is and he's making some kind of statement by finding her here, then maybe that's his plan. Maybe he scares her into staying home and then attacks as soon as her parents leave or go to sleep. At least at the formal there's a chance he won't risk being seen. I mean, he showed up here as a human, right?"

"I don't know. I have no idea what the right thing to do is. But I do know that he targeted Allison." Malia let out a heavy sigh. "She's not safe, Stiles… None of us are."

The changing room door swung open then and Erica stepped out in a bright red dress. She smoothed her hands over the empire waist before burying her fingers in the fabric of the skirt and looking at Malia nervously. "What do you think?"

Malia managed a grin. "I think I was right. Red is definitely your color."

…

By the time Malia got home, she was exhausted. Between her late night and the mental games Peter played at the mall, she really just wanted to nosedive into her bed and not wake up until noon tomorrow. But she had plans to meet up with Scott and… If there was anyone worth putting off sleep, it was him.

"You're home." Henry looked up from the yellow notepad he was writing on, an open book and a mug of steaming coffee in reach. He plucked his reading glasses off his nose and rubbed his eyes.

"Yeah. Not for long. I'm going out again soon, but…" She held up her Macy's bag. "I wanted to drop my dress off."

"Dress?"

"For the winter formal. It's tomorrow night."

"Ahh." He nodded. "That sounds like fun. You, Scott and Stiles?"

Malia chewed her lip. "Uh, just me and Scott. I mean, Stiles will be there, but he's got a date."

"Oh?" A smile pulled at Henry's mouth as he sat back in his chair. "And is Scott your date or is this a friends thing?"

Malia felt a nervous fluttering in her stomach. "Dad…"

"What? I can't ask who's taking you to the dance?"

Sighing, Malia resisted the urge to cross her arms and make up some excuse. "It's a date," she said, lifting her chin as if she expected him to tell her she couldn't go. Which was stupid. If anything, her dad had been pretty supportive of the idea of her and Scott dating. Was that weird? She wasn't expecting him to get out a shotgun or something; that'd be seriously antiquated.

"So, you two finally fessed up, huh?" Henry hummed and sipped his coffee. "Good."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. Anyway…" She waved her dress bag at him and started for the hallway.

"Before you go… I was hoping we could talk about last night."

Malia stumbled to a stop and stared down the hallway, worry making her stomach twist. "Last night?"

"Yeah. I came home to a note telling me you were at Allison's and didn't know when you'd be back… I like Allison. She seems like a good kid. But it doesn't give me much to work with." He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. "What do you think about making up a, uh, an emergency list?"

"A what?" Brow furrowed, she turned around to face him.

"Yeah, just numbers for your friends." Henry tapped his pen against his notebook. "I can make one up too, but you already got the number for work. I just want to know that if something happens, I have a way to find you. I know you're used to being on your own, and that's my fault mostly. But I worry about you. I don't need you to tell me everywhere you go and everyone you're with. But if it gets late and I'm worried, at least I know I can call around and see where you might be."

Malia chewed her lip. He looked sincere, if a little worried. And she got it. For him, becoming a present parent was something new, and he was trying his best. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't be worried about writing up a list of her closest friends. But given the secret she was holding on to, she couldn't help but worry that he might call the wrong person at the wrong time and start asking questions about where she was and what she was doing. Still, wasn't she just thinking last night about how awful it would be for him if she ended up dead and he had no answers to any of his questions?

"I'll try to be better about checking in. Even just to let you know if I'm staying overnight somewhere or something."

"Okay. That'd be good." His gaze skittered back to his books. "I, uh, I'm working on my steps. I've been reading Step Four a lot... 'Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.'" He tapped his thumb against the edge of his notebook. "When you take a real good look at yourself, it's easy to focus on the bad. All the things you did wrong or forgot or just plain ignored. But I've been trying to consider the good too. Not just the good in me but the good around me… What I value and love and what I want to do better. What I think I can do better if I try…"

Malia stared at him a beat. "What'd you find?"

"I can't be who I was. I can't erase what I've done or how our family has changed because of what we lost and how I reacted to it. But I can figure out who I want to be, and I can do my best to be that… I want to be a good dad. I want to be someone you can trust and rely on and who you know cares about you, beyond anything else. I know I have to work at that, and I know we're making progress. I just want you to know that I understand if it's hard and if sometimes you doubt me. I'd doubt me too. But I'm putting in the work, one day at a time."

Malia's throat tightened. "I've noticed."

He half-smiled. "I'm glad."

Malia took a deep breath. "I'll make the list. It's not long, but I've got a few friends who usually know where I am."

He stared at her a beat and then nodded. "Okay."

Malia hesitated before eventually turning and making her way down the hall. She needed to put her dress away, grab a quick shower, and write up an emergency list of her closest friends, of which she figured there was about five: Scott, Stiles, Allison, Danny, and Erica.

…

Malia had just hung the list on the fridge, tucked under a magnet of her dad's work logo, when she heard the familiar sound of Melissa McCall's car approaching. Smiling to herself, she turned on her heel and made her way to the door. "I won't be out too late."

Henry's gaze followed her to the door. "All right. Have fun."

Malia made her way outside and crossed the porch just as the headlights bounced over the front of her house. She walked down the stairs and crossed the driveway to climb into the passenger seat. "Melissa's working?"

"She took on an extra shift so she could switch one out for tomorrow. She wants to be there when I'm getting ready for the formal."

"Your mom's a saint."

"I know." He half-grinned. "Actually, I was thinking we could drop some dinner off for her and then head to the preserve? See if we can find my phone or some sign of Derek." He shrugged. "Not exactly romantic, and I know you wanted to nap…"

"I like your idea better." She pulled her seatbelt on. "Especially if picking up dinner for your mom means I get some curly fries."

Scott grinned. "I can do that."

…

After dropping food off at the hospital with a very busy and appreciative Melissa, Scott and Malia made their way out to the woods. They parked where she remembered Deaton's car had been and retraced their way back toward the Hale house. Scott was pretty sure he had his phone on him up until the confrontation with Derek and the Argent attack. As much as she hoped they might stumble upon Scott's missing phone, she was more concerned with Derek. While Malia had already searched the area for any sign or scent of him, she also hadn't been at her best, distracted by a stomach wound and the chaos of that night. She couldn't help but hope that if there was a chance the Argents didn't get him, maybe he doubled-back and left some sign that he was okay.

It was late and dark when they found themselves cutting a path through the trees. Not exactly the best circumstances to be looking for anything or anyone.

"You ever think about how weird it is how much time we spend in the woods at night? I mean, this is kind of how it all started. Traipsing around, looking for a body…"

"I'm hoping this time, if we find someone, they're alive." Scott ducked under a low-hanging branch and moved closer to her, their shoulders brushing.

She could feel his hand bumping hers as they walked and spent entirely too long overthinking just reaching over and taking his. Enough that when his fingers finally threaded through hers, she jumped a little, her gaze immediately falling to their folded hands.

"Is this okay?"

"Uh-huh." She looked up at him, a shaft of blue moonlight cutting across his face. He looked nervous and hopeful and, she imagined, she did too. "This doesn't feel weird for you?"

"No." He paused, his eyes darting away and back. "Does it feel weird for you?"

She shook her head. "Not weird. Just… Maybe surreal. We've held hands before, a lot actually, but it was never… charged. You know what I mean?"

He nodded. "I get it."

"But I like it." She swallowed tightly. "I guess I just keep feeling like, I don't know, maybe I'm going to wake up and it'll all just be a dream or something."

"The werewolf stuff or the us stuff?"

"Everything… But mostly the us stuff."

His mouth twitched. "Werewolves are more believable than us dating?"

Her heart thudded. "Not more believable, just…" She sighed. "I spent a lot of time convincing myself you didn't feel the same way. And almost as much time trying to make myself stop feeling that way. So… Yeah. Still a little surreal."

Scott smiled slowly. "Good surreal though?"

Malia's gaze bounced from his to his mouth and back. "Definitely." She squeezed his hand a little tighter and looked back out at the trees, dense and dark in every direction. She had a pretty good idea of where they were though and if they kept walking south, they'd eventually find themselves at Derek's house. "Did Stiles tell you what happened at the mall?"

Scott frowned. "No. What happened?"

"Peter showed up."

"What?" He tugged at her hand and searched her face worriedly. "Did he do anything?"

"Just talked to Allison, but… It was the way he did it." She shook her head. "I think he wanted us to know he could get to her anytime he felt like it."

"Do you think he's going to try something?"

"I think he's biding his time, looking for the right moment… But between your mom and Allison, Peter is gearing up for something, and I don't think we'll like it." She started walking again and Scott followed. "When I met with Derek, I told him that I couldn't let Peter get away with this. I told him that I would stop him, with or without his help, and I meant it. I just don't know what that means. Allison asked me if I would stop someone if it meant saving other people, and it sounded so simple. Peter's a killer and he'll keep hurting people unless someone intervenes."

"But does that have to be us?" Scott's thumb stroked the length of hers. "Stiles keeps saying that maybe this is better left to the Argents. That they'll find Peter on their own and they'll put him down. But that could also mean sacrificing Derek to get to Peter… And that's just if they get there in time. How much collateral damage could happen in between?"

Malia sighed. "So, what do we do? Tell the Argents it's Peter? They'll want to know how we know. We can't risk that."

"Plus, there's Jackson. He still wants the bite and he'll keep blackmailing us to get it."

"So, let's think this through. Let's say the Argents put Peter down. No Alpha means no bite for Jackson, and he's not going to care if we tell him there's nothing we can do about it. At best, the Argents pack up and leave after Peter dies. Allison grows up and becomes a hunter and we have to figure out how to keep Jackson at bay. At worst, he tells the Argents we're shifters too, and then they start hunting us, maybe even bringing Allison along for the ride."

"Do you think she would? If it was us." Scott frowned. "You're one of her closest friends."

"And I lied to her. I've been lying to her basically the whole time. I want to believe that she'd know I wasn't doing it to hurt her, but what if she doesn't? What if she thinks I was just keeping her close to manipulate her or find out what her family knows?" Malia shook her head. "Whatever way this goes, the fallout is going to suck."

"So, we just need to focus on what's happening right now and not on what could go wrong. We look for Derek and we hope he got away."

"And then what?"

"I don't know," Scott admitted. "All I know is that I don't think he was going to kill Jackson last night… And that tells me that maybe he's different. Maybe he's not like Peter."

Malia stared at his profile a moment before he turned to meet her gaze.

"What?"

She shook her head faintly. "Our life is totally bizarre."

He laughed lightly. "Yeah."

"But I'm glad we're doing this together… I don't know how I'd do any of it without you."

Scott tugged on her hand and she stepped closer to him. His arm wrapped around her waist and drew her in until they were inches apart. "You'll always have me."

Malia's chest swelled. Her heart felt like it was free-floating; a balloon tethered to her ribs on a loose string. She reached up, her fingers skimming his cheek. He leaned into her touch, shaggy hair falling into his eyes. Her gaze fell to his mouth, curved in a warm smile. "I'm sure."

His brow furrowed.

"About us. I'm sure. I know we're going on a date and it's pretty obvious how we feel about each other. But just so there's no miscommunication… I'm sure that I want us to be an us. Even if it's scary and I don't know what could happen or what might go wrong. I don't want to run away from this and regret not taking a chance." Her hand fell to his chest, to a heart she could hear beating in sync with her own. "Whatever happens, we face it together, and I want to do that in everything."

He stared at her searchingly a moment before he tipped his chin down and she tilted her own up. The tips of his fingers brushed her cheek before his hand folded around the nape of her neck and she felt her breath leave her, shaky with anticipation. His lips were smooth and warm; light as a whisper at first. Tentative, tender, and testing. And then he breathed out and she breathed in, and the uncertainty just bled away. She leaned in and so did he, tossing away restraint like an unwelcome stranger. What seemed so scary before, that uncrossed boundary between friends and more, was now an afterthought. This wasn't scary. This was… home. This was Scott. And just like everything else before, they found their rhythm in this new landscape.

There was a sense of urgency in each slanting kiss; mouth chasing mouth like the other might come to their senses and change their mind. Only they didn't, and that urgency ebbed into the comfort of expectation. That his lips would find hers wherever they went and hers would welcome his blindly. Her fingers buried in his hair, gripping tight, and she fell into him, chest to chest. There was a push and pull to it all that felt so very easy and familiar and full of promise. One of his hands slid up and down her back, fingers teasing at her neck and into her hair, the other hand anchored on her hip.

Time fell away; it could've been minutes or hours. Her senses were drowned by the scent and taste and feel of him. The way his nose brushed against hers, the stroke of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth, the warmth of his breath. The pressure of his fingers squeezing her hip and the way he shuffled closer, as if there was any space left between them to occupy, made something in her chest ache. It felt so obvious now, how much he wanted this too. How mutual this had been all along. It felt good. It felt... freeing. Realizing this was just the first kiss and there were going to be so many more.

She could feel him smiling as things slowed down, until they were merely breathing against each other, their foreheads pressed together.

Her closed eyes felt heavy, eager to bask in this moment. But she forced them open, reminding herself that it wasn't a dream, and he wouldn't just drift away.

He stared back at her from warm, soft eyes. "Okay?"

"My legs feel wobbly, but otherwise, I'm great."

He grinned.

With a lighthearted roll of her eyes, she leaned back. "I'm gonna blame it on a recent bullet-wound, so don't let it go to your head."

"Sure," he said. "Sounds logical."

Licking her lips, she turned on her heel and started walking. "We should probably get back to looking for Derek."

Scott fell into step next to her and took her hand once more. "I can multitask."

She bit her lip to stunt a smile.

…

They gave up the search at nearly midnight and headed back to her house. There was no sign that Derek had returned to the house and any scent of him had long been masked by other animals or something else. That strange powder was still there, or traces of it anyway. Much of it had been washed away by rain. But she could see it, a residue that clung to the grass.

Malia stared out at the road absently, streetlamps briefly lighting their way as they passed them by. "Do you think hunters can drown out a shifter's scent?"

Scott's brow furrowed. "Like artificially?"

"Yeah, like maybe when they catch a shifter, they have some kind of spray or powder or something that masks their scent so their pack can't find them." Malia shrugged. "It'd make sense, right? It'd keep us or the Alpha from finding him until the Argents wanted us to. That way they're not ambushed."

"Maybe." Scott shook his head. "But wouldn't that create a smell too? If we knew what it was, we could just follow that."

"Unless it doesn't leave a scent behind. Like instead of masking it, it destroys the scent."

Scott hummed. "If that's true, and the Argents do have him, how do we find him?"

Malia chewed her lip and slumped down in her seat. "I don't know. We follow Kate or Chris or…" She sighed. "But following means getting close enough to get caught."

"Couldn't hurt to try. Stiles said our alibi could just be that you live out there. It makes sense. If they ask, we just say we were in the area, hiking, because you live nearby."

Malia nodded. "Sunday then? We track Kate, see where she goes, hope she leads us somewhere important."

"Okay." Scott pulled down the dirt road that led to her house. "About tomorrow night… I need to tell you something."

Malia frowned. "About the formal?" She sat up a little. "Did you want to cancel?"

"No!" He glanced at her quickly. "No, I just… I'm not technically allowed to go."

"What do you mean 'technically?'"

"I mean..." Nervously, he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. "Coach said I was failing too many classes and they were going to kick me off the team, but he convinced them to let me stay. The deal is I can't go to formal and I need to get my grades up."

Malia blinked. "Okay… so, we skip the formal then. Maybe we could study together. Did any of your teachers give you make-up assignments? To help get your grade back up?"

"Yeah, I have a couple weeks to turn them in. But, I don't want to skip the dance… I want to go; I just have to avoid being seen."

"At a public dance…" Her brow furrowed skeptically. "Where you have to give them a ticket to get in…?"

Scott shrugged. "So, I sneak in."

Malia shook her head. "What if you get caught?"

"Then I'll get dragged out by my teeth, apparently." He grinned. "It'll be worth it."

Malia snorted. "You really want to do this?"

Scott pulled to a stop in front of her house. "A hundred percent."

"Okay. But next week, we buckle down on the studying. I'm not exactly pulling A's, but if you need the help, we can figure it out."

"I'd like that." He shifted in his seat and reached for her hand. "I had fun tonight."

"Me too."

"I have to pick up your corsage tomorrow… Any hints for what color I should get?"

She shrugged. "We could skip the corsage if you want."

"I kind of like the idea, especially if you're gonna press it in a book like the other one…"

"Okay, well, pretty much any color will work, so surprise me."

"All right. I will." His thumb stroked across her knuckles and just stared at her a moment.

The porch light turned on and Malia sighed. "I think that's his subtle way of telling us he knows we're out here and it's late."

Scott smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Nodding, she leaned over, hovering just short of him. When he turned his face and tilted his chin, she crossed that last bit of space to kiss him. It was slow and lingering; she wanted to sink into it, but she knew she only had so much time. When she drew back, he followed, his eyes still closed. Malia smiled. The bowling ball in her stomach was reaching boulder capacity. "Bye," she murmured.

His eyes opened slowly and he breathed out a quiet, "Bye."

She climbed out of the car and made her way to the porch. He waited until she had the door open before pulling away.

Walking inside, Malia closed the door and fell back against it.

Her dad was sitting on the couch, looking back at her with an eyebrow raised. "Have we ever set a curfew?"

"Nope." She pushed off the door and started for the hall. "Personally, I like this honor system we have."

"I bet." He snorted. "Can we at least try to keep to a 'no later than midnight' timeframe?"

"We can definitely try…" She pointed down the hall. "I'm heading to bed. Night!"

"Goodnight," he called after her.

In her room, Malia smiled down at Shiloh, tucked in her bed, tail thumping on the floor. "Hey girl. How was your night? 'Cause mine was kind of awesome."

…

It was early, enough that the birds were chirping and the sun was just barely peeking out. Allison snuck out of the house, her parents still fast asleep, and crossed her house on socked-feet, carrying her shoes so they wouldn't squeak. She'd let Kate use her parking space inside the garage, leaving her SUV outside in the driveway for exactly this purpose.

The drive across town felt both incredibly long and entirely too fast. The woods were eerily dark, a dense fog creeping through the trees, and the distant sound of padding animal feet.

What was she doing? Why was she doing this? She had a formal tonight. She was going to be a normal girl who did normal things. That's what Kate told her to do. Right?

But what had Malia said? If her source of information could be biased, find another source.

Well, this was the only other source she knew of. She couldn't ask her parents; they'd clearly already decided that she shouldn't know. More than that, their perspective would be skewed. Then again, so would his. But at least then she had the information from both sides. Right?

The underground... bunker? Basement? Holding cell? Whatever it was called, it was even creepier being there on her own, without the familiarity of Kate guiding her way. The repeated dripping of water from a nearby pipe; the peeling walls; the lights that left just enough dim space to make shadow-crowded corners. It was all creepy.

When she reached the door, she hesitated. What if she swung it open and someone else was there? Or what if Derek Hale was dead? Or what if—

"I can hear your heartbeat…" His voice called, muffled through the door. "Allison."

Her heart leapt up into her throat and, for a moment, she considered turning tail and running. But that… That was something a frightened little girl would do… and that wasn't her.

So, with a shaking hand, she gripped the handle and pulled the door open. The sound of it rolling out of her way seemed to echo in a mostly empty room. There was no light on; just slivers of moonlight that cut through a high window and fell across his body, still hanging limp from his chains. A low current of electricity continued to pump away, keeping him in a state of pained lethargy.

Allison hugged her arms to her waist as she stepped closer. Her gaze found him and then fell away quickly. His eyes shone a bright blue, cutting through the dark, following her. It was unnerving… unnatural… She made her way to the large light Kate had used and switched it on. But she didn't direct it at him like Kate had, so that it nearly blinded him. Instead, she just wanted something to light her way, to make her feel like less she was shuffling around in the dark.

"No Kate?" He cast his gaze to the door and then back to her, tipping his head faintly. "She doesn't know you're here."

Allison caught herself before shaking her head. If she told him she was alone, maybe he would see that as an opportunity. "I have questions."

His head fell back against the bars. "Ask your Aunt."

She pressed her lips flat. "I can't. I…" She dug her fingers down into the sleeves of her jacket. "A friend told me I… I need to have all the information to make a choice. So, I'm here. I— I'm asking you…" Her chin quivered and she slowly raised her eyes to meet his. "Why?"

Derek sighed, long and suffering. "Why what?"

"Why did you o-or your Alpha hurt my friends? At—At the school a-and the video store and those strange deaths." She shook her head. "Why?"

He clenched his teeth and stared up at the ceiling.

"Please. I…" Her mouth hung open as she took a deep breath. "Everything I know, everything my parents told me. It was… a lie. The schools, the moving, their jobs… None of it was real. And now I'm finding out that werewolves…" She laughed; a cracked, breathless noise. "Werewolves are real. And I… I'm trying really hard not to freak out. I'm trying to understand why my family would keep something like that from me. And why you… Why you would be a part of that?"

"It's not that simple," he said, his voice low and gravelly.

"What isn't?"

"Any of it." He tipped his head forward, his gaze falling to meet hers, searching her face. "There is no good side. There are only good people and bad people. Your family hunts down and savagely murders my kind. They'll make up a reason for why. For who deserves it and who doesn't. But who gave them the right to play judge and jury?"

Allison frowned. "What about you? What about your Alpha and what he's done? Why is that okay?"

"I never said it was."

She paused, confused.

"I had a sister. Laura. I came back here for her."

Allison glanced at him. "She was the one they found in the woods."

He gave a short, stiff nod.

"Was that…" She swallowed. "Did my family…?"

He hesitated before shaking his head.

A sigh of relief left her before shame set in. She was relieved her family didn't do it, but he still lost a sister.

He watched her curiously.

"You had other…" She grimaced. "I read in the newspaper… about the fire… You had other siblings. Brothers and sister. But they died?"

He nodded.

"Was that hunters?"

He stared at her.

A sour taste filled her mouth and she had to look away. Her fingers drummed against her mouth, her heart pounding hard in her chest. Eight people died in the Hale fire. She remembered looking it up after the school attack, when it was announced that Derek Hale was a person of interest. She'd been horrified. Even just imagining what it must have been like, trapped in a house as it burned all around you. It was terrifying. No way out, the slow realization that you wouldn't survive… Knowing you weren't there when your entire family was dying. It would be enough to turn anybody psychotic. But she'd never understood the motivation behind it. Why it felt so specific and targeted. Was it because of her family? Because she came from a legacy of hunters? Or was it more than that?

"At the school… The librarian and the custodian. That was the Alpha?"

His chin tilted faintly.

"And the video store?"

Another tilt.

"The bus driver? The guys in the woods? All of that?"

Tilt.

She squinted. "Why?"

His gaze raised, centered on the ceiling. "If I tell you, you'll know who it is. And then you'll tell your aunt."

Allison frowned. "Why would you protect him?"

Nothing. No answer. No excuse. No explanation. Just silence.

Allison glared. "Kate said that Betas have to do what their Alphas want. Is this like that? Are you just… Just a pawn?"

Silence.

"What if it was someone you cared about? What if your Alpha hurt or killed someone you loved? What would you do then?"

His gaze slowly fell to meet hers.

A weight filled her stomach. "It did…" She blinked slowly. "Your sister. The Alpha killed your sister." Her brow furrowed. "Then why? I-I don't understand. Why aren't you helping stop it?"

His gaze fell to the floor and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Your friend, the one that told you to get more information…"

She stared up at him warily. "Yeah?"

"Do you trust her?"

Allison swallowed. "Yes."

"Do you trust your aunt?"

She hesitated. "Yes."

"Which one do you trust more?" Derek's brows hiked. "Which one would save you?"

Allison raised her chin. "I don't need to be saved."

He grinned then, slow, with all of his bright, white, pearly teeth. "Say that again when you have an Alpha breathing down your neck."

She took a step back.

"Werewolves are pack animals, Allison. Do you know what that means?"

Her brow furrowed.

"It means I have people who care about me. People who need me." He stared at her. "People who will come for me."

Allison frowned. "That's what she wants. You're the bait."

He smiled faintly. "You know, this electricity keeps me from shifting…" He winced. "But it doesn't dull all of my senses."

Allison shook her head, not understanding.

"I can hear your heartbeat. You're nervous. It's expected. I scare you. Me, specifically, or maybe just the idea of what I am." He stared down at her from half-lidded eyes. "But I also heard something else…"

She waited, biting the inside of her cheek.

"When I asked you if you trusted her, you said yes. But your heart…" He shook his head. "You weren't sure."

Allison hugged herself tighter.

"We have a lot of rules as shifters. Always stay in control. Never hurt an innocent. Don't tell anybody what you are. And most importantly… Trust your instincts." He leaned forward, his chains rattling. "What are your instincts telling you, Allison?"

They were telling her to run. Away from danger, from him, from a predator waiting to pounce.

Swallowing, she turned on her heel and hurried to the door, her footsteps loud in her ears.

…

It was just after dawn; the pale blue glow of early morning lit the barred windows at his back.

Sitting on a creaky metal chair, next to the control box for the electricity keeping him from shifting, Kate listened to a not-so-friendly voicemail from her brother— "Hey. It's me. I'm getting tired of leaving messages. I wanna know where you are. Call me. Now."

Kate sucked in an irritated breath and let it out on a sigh, tapping her phone against her forehead. "Unfortunately, Derek, if you're not gonna talk... I'm just gonna have to kill you." She tossed the phone aside and reached for the control box dial.

All things considered, electrocution would suck, but he could think of worse ways to die.

"So, say hi to your sister for me." She paused then, and turned her head toward him. "You did tell her about me, didn't you?"

Raw guilt gnawed at his gut and his gaze fell to the ground.

"The truth about the fire? Or did you?" Kate slithered out of her chair to approach him. She fake gasped before whispering, "Did you tell anybody?"

He couldn't look at her, not when the urge to kill her was only slightly overshadowed by the excruciating weight of his own guilt. Of course he hadn't told Laura. How could he? How could he look her in the eye and admit that he was the reason their entire family was dead? Maybe she could have forgiven him. After all, they were all each other had left in the world. Maybe she would've absolved him of his guilt just for the sake of keeping what little family they had left intact. He would never know. He'd been too much of a coward to admit to her what he'd done. And now she was just as lost to him as the rest of their family. If it wasn't Kate in front of him, looking for any wound to prod, he might let himself drown in that pain. The emptiness, the loss, the abject horror of his mistakes. But if anyone was more guilty than him, it was the woman just five feet in front of him, and she couldn't care less about the burden he'd carried since the fire.

"Oh, sweetie… That's just a lot of guilt to keep buried." Her tone was blasé, unfettered, painless. "It's not all your fault. You got tricked by a pretty face." She grinned as she chuckled. It was funny to her. A point of pride, even. She'd won and he'd lost and here they were again.

"It happens! Handsome young werewolf mistakenly falls in love with a super-hot girl who comes from a family that kills werewolves." She scrunched her nose. "Is that ironic? Is it ironic—" She walked toward him, her eyes lit with glee. "—that you're inadvertently helping me track down the rest of the pack... again?"

Derek swallowed thickly.

Since he'd been unceremoniously dragged into this cellar and chained up, he'd been asking himself a series of questions. The most important being:

Would he be upset if the Argents found and killed Peter?

Had any of the hunters seen Scott, Malia, or Jackson as they fled?

Was there anything that could tie him back to Scott or Malia?

But as time went on, it became clear that Kate didn't suspect Scott or Malia of anything. And the longer he kept his mouth shut, the longer it would stay that way. What he didn't have a good answer for was Peter. The conversation he'd had with Malia on the cliffs played on repeat in his head. Malia was stubborn and, at times, reckless. Especially close to the moon, when her feelings were overwhelming and her animal instinct was at an all-time high. She would go after Peter if he continued to be a threat and, much as Derek liked her, he knew she couldn't win. Not on her own, not against an Alpha as powerful as Peter had become. But Peter was family. The only family Derek had left, even if he was teetering on the edge of complete insanity. Was the reason behind what he was doing valid enough to excuse the people who'd died during the process? Innocent people had suffered, but so had not-so-innocent people. People who deserved that justice.

What would his mother say? What would she think of him? Of Peter?

Maybe that was what hurt most of all. The longer Derek lived without his mother's influence and guidance, the more he questioned who he was, what he did, what he stood for, and why, of any of them, he was the one who survived. Why not his siblings? Cora was only nine when she died. Vale had barely scratched eleven. And Lucas just thirteen. They were kids. If he closed his eyes and tried really hard, he could still remember the sound of Gabriella and Adrienne's voices, sharing barbs, teasing him. Any one of them had so much more life left to live. Ben, too. He'd only been visiting. He wasn't even supposed to be there. It never made sense.

Laura got out. She survived. Only to be killed in the end too.

Now, only two Hales were left standing, and he found himself teetering between wanting to die to end his own suffering, and wanting to avenge his family. Kate had eight bodies weighed against her, Peter had one, not including his more recent victims. Of course, if he told Kate it was Peter, she had no reason to keep him alive. And even if Derek had spent these last few years half wishing he could join his family, a part of him wanted to hope there was a reason he was still alive. For redemption, maybe. To become the person his mother wanted him to be. He thought he might be leaning that way, just a little. He thought maybe Malia could have been his reason. But even she knew what kind of coward he could be. Unwilling to kill Peter, unwilling to stand against him. An accomplice to whatever carnage Peter left in his wake. And now, the bait in a trap he hoped neither Malia nor Scott would trigger. Even as a part of him hoped they would find him.

"How's Allison?"

Kate paused, her eyes flashing, and then she pasted on a smirk. "She's a little young for you, doncha think?"

Derek raised an eyebrow. "She'd be about the age I was when you came into my life." His eyes tracked Kate as she whirled around on her heel and walked back toward the control box. "She's not like you though, is she? Doesn't have that killer instinct."

"She's an Argent," Kate said, her tone taking on more bite than it had previously. "Through and through."

"She was shaking like a leaf when you brought her here. Scared of the big, bad wolf..." He watched her, the way her mouth tightened. "What's the initiation process like for a hunter? The sword might be a little heavy for her. She strikes me as more of an archer. Strike hard from a distance."

Kate turned a flat stare at him. "Maybe I'll have her run you down... Release you in the woods and watch her fill you with so many arrows, you'll look like a stuck pig."

Derek grinned slowly. "Does she know what you did? Does she know what you are?"

Kate shook her head and let out a scoffing laugh. "What? You think I'm ashamed of myself? Derek, come on! You know me better than that."

He did, didn't he. "I think you're proud of what you did. But I don't think she would be."

Kate's lip curled. "You don't know Allison. She's strong. She's a fighter. She was meant for this!"

"Maybe." He remembered every loud, defensive word Malia had said about Allison, so sure that she wouldn't follow in her family's footsteps. He remembered how Allison had come back, just a few hours earlier, asking questions, needing to know more. "Or maybe when she knows what you did, she'll be so disgusted, she'll turn her back on you. On the Argent family entirely. Maybe your legacy dies with her."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"It'd be fitting," he said. "Maybe your karma for slaughtering my family is losing yours."

"Even if that were true, even if knowing what I did would make Allison's poor, delicate heart break... She'll never find out. Nobody will. Because that secret is going to die down here with you, Derek. Your Alpha has killed every other accomplice and witness to that night, and once we find him and take him down too, it'll be over. No more Alpha and no more Hales." She paused, a realization dawning. "No more Hales... You and Laura weren't the only ones left. You had an uncle. He was a vegetable; they said the trauma was too much..." Her mouth flattened. "Peter."

Derek wondered if that was fear or relief flooding his body.

Maybe it was both.

tbc

author's note: well, here we are, over a year later. WHOOPS. it was totally not my intention to be gone that long, especially since i've had the rest of this story basically finished, outside of some editing and transition scenes here or there. the last piece with kate and derek took me a while to figure out, because in the show, this is where kate deduces it's scott due to 'history repeating' and him being in love with allison. that didn't fit here, since kate has always noticed something between scott and malia. i just wasn't sure how i wanted the scene to go otherwise, and eventually it ended up here.

canon is divering a little here. we're at an interesting point where allison is seeking out more information and is at least somewhat willing to hear derek's side of things. at the same time, derek is trying to figure out how to stay alive while also struggling with how he wants things to play out. he's still trying to figure out how he feels about peter, especially up against his own guilt in things. malia's opinion, what his mother would expect of him, his guilt at what happened to his family, and whether he thinks it would justified or not to have the argents do the killing are always rolling around his head. the blood wouldn't be on his hands, but at the same time, do they deserve the honor of killing his sister's killer? or should he stand behind peter because he's family, regardless of what he's done. after all, he says he didn't mean to kill laura, and it's not like derek doesn't feel as if his hands are soaked in the blood of his family. but then we have allison also providing derek with a new view of things as well. maybe she isn't like her family. maybe malia's right. but is that enough?

anyway, my apologies for the long wait. i truly hope i don't do that again. things start getting exciting again next chapter, with the formal and the insanity that follows!

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