Chapter 3: Broken Things

Compared to the measly, ragged football field, the lacrosse field was like an arena.

Sera wrapped her arms around herself as she peered up at the bleachers, nervously debating on where to sit. Luckily, there were plenty of options because it was only a practice. A practice she had stupidly agreed to come to watch, even though she had no one to sit with. Sera's isolation had been self-inflicted, but it still stung to realize that she would have to go alone.

She rubbed her arms and walked up the bleachers until she found an inconspicuous spot, then proceeded to plop down. The lacrosse team bantered with each other a few yards away, swinging newly laced sticks and swatting their teammates with their jerseys. Their emotions saturated her tongue like she had just gulped down a bottle of syrup—contentedness nearly overwhelmed her, sending her vision out of focus. By the time Sera's vision finally cleared, most of the boys had given up their game and were lounging on the bottom half of the bleachers, putting on their gear as they recounted their summer.

Sera let a brief smile come to her lips when she spotted Stiles and his best friend, Scott McCall, sitting a good distance away from the rest of the lacrosse team. Scott was just as he had been for the past year, with prominent muscles corded under his golden brown skin, short black hair and scrutinizing brown eyes. It was no secret that the boy had a lot more going for him than just his lacrosse abilities. Granted, his good looks and athletic skills had been enhanced by werewolfism in her opinion, but whatever.

Sera leaned forward and rested her face in her palms. Then she tuned out the background noise and began to eavesdrop on Scott and Stiles' conversation. Scott waved his hands animatedly, and Stiles was laughing, nearly doubled over.

"…and then my mom suggested that I go talk to the girl at the tiki hut, right? The girl making the smoothies? I mean, we were at the beach and all, so I thought, 'why not'? So I walked over to her and we started talking and everything was going good… until I accidentally called her Allison."

Stiles howled with laughter, slapping his best friend on the back. "Oh man," he gasped. "I bet that went over well."

Scott gave a sad laugh and ran his fingers through his thick hair. "Yeah, like a ton of bricks. She probably thought I was the biggest douchebag ever because her name wasn't even close to Allison—it was Lily." Scott leaned forward on the bench, letting his head drop into his hands. "It doesn't matter," he said miserably. "I can't even talk to other girls without thinking about her, Stiles." He looked up, his dark eyes full of anguish. "What am I supposed to do?"

Stiles gave Scott a sympathetic grimace. "Win her back," he said quietly. "That's the only thing you can do, man."

Scott groaned, making several boys nearby give him strange looks. "It would help if she would actually talk to me! She comes to every lacrosse event and completely ignores me!"

"That's because ever since Jackson moved, Lydia has been dragging her to any and every thing to do with lacrosse." Stiles rolled his eyes. "She's here to support Lydia's coping mechanism, not ogle her ex."

Sera frowned at that. Jackson Whittemore's departure had caused somewhat of an uproar, from what she had heard. Apparently Sera's older brother was less than thrilled to let a new beta out of the designated territory, but she figured that he got over it quickly when he realized several alphas were roaming the area.

Derek wasn't the only distraught one—Lydia had changed drastically after Jackson's move. She was still snotty, but it almost seemed like she was following a script. Her heart just wasn't really in it anymore. And apparently over the summer, Lydia had barely ever left Allison's side, too afraid of the knowledge she now carried with her. Sera couldn't blame the poor girl—finding out your boyfriend was a creature of the night had to be hard for anyone.

Jackson's move left the student populace reeling. He had always been a big part of the school, and without him, something in the air had shifted. But who could fault his parents for wanting to get far, far away from the location where several grisly murders had taken place?

Unfortunately for them, they didn't know that Jackson was the source of most of those recent problems. Their son, a former kanima-turned-werewolf, had been saved by Lydia's love. When Jackson's parents told him they were moving, he didn't fight. Surprisingly, he agreed with them.

Maybe he didn't want to stay in a place of such horrible memories, or maybe he believed leaving was in Lydia's best interest—Sera had no way of knowing for sure, but she sympathized with him.

She was startled when the bleachers shook. Looking across the aisle, Sera saw the walking immunity herself: Lydia Martin. She was wearing a frilly pink skirt with a matching cardigan, a pair of white wedges strapped onto her feet and a string of pearls wound snugly around her neck. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and cast a haughty look around the bleachers.

Allison Argent followed, looking slightly weary. She wasn't as dressed up as Lydia—she wore jeans, a simple cream top with a jean jacket layered over it, and a pair of brown ankle-length boots.

The girls sat down a few feet away from Sera, quietly talking as they watched the boys get ready.

Loneliness consumed Sera for a moment, but it was quickly erased when Stiles came bounding up the steps. He grinned at her, struggling to sit down with all his gear on. "Hey, seat-stealer."

Sera sighed and shook her head, a teasing lilt to her voice as she asked: "What, forgot my name already?"

"It's Sophie, right?"

She gaped at him, suddenly indignant.

Stiles saw her expression and burst into laughter. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" He bumped his shoulder against Sera's, sending tingles up her arm. His gaze held hers before nervously bouncing away. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

Sera was about to retort, but another voice cut her off.

"Who are you?"

She glanced over, bewildered. Lydia was standing next to her with a suspicious look on her face.

Allison Argent lingered behind Lydia and curiously examined Sera. Sera's skin crawled under the scrutiny, but she gave a weak smile and wiggled her fingers in their direction. Interacting with people had never been her strong suit, yet sitting here in front of a hunter and a demanding human, she felt more out of place than ever before.

"Hi," she said, her voice more even-toned than expected. "I'm Seraphina."

Allison nodded slowly. "Oh—yeah! We have AP English together."

Lydia arched a perfectly waxed eyebrow. "Another new girl? They're coming to Beacon Hills in hordes now." Lydia eyed Sera's borrowed outfit in distaste. "I'm Lydia Martin, by the way." She paused, and then said as almost an afterthought: "Oh, and this is Allison Argent, my best friend."

Allison's dimpled smile was tentative and friendly, but just looking at the girl made Sera twitch.

Before anyone could say anything else, Scott came up the steps, barely giving the girls and Sera a second glance. His eyes were locked on Stiles, but she could tell he was trying especially hard not to look at Allison. "Stiles, Coach wants us out on the field in five minutes."

Stiles groaned and muttered, "Of course he does."

Scott finally noticed the strange new person sitting beside his best friend. He bristled.

Sera didn't blame him, but the tension made her freeze. She took a deep breath and willed her scent to be blocked, chanting the mantra Ophelia taught her so her aura would resemble a human's. Scott relaxed a bit and gave her a crooked smile after a moment.

"Hey, I'm Scott." He held out a hand. Sera barely hesitated as she leaned over Stiles to shake it. "Are you new here?" His confusion was a muddled thing, tasting both sour and sweet at the same time.

Sera shook her head, but before she could reply, Stiles piped up: "Nah, she's not new. She's just got a good way of hiding from everyone."

She flushed at his words, and then said, "I moved here last year, actually. The week after Allison showed up, I think." Everyone stared at her in an embarrassed, awkward silence. They felt bad that they hadn't noticed Sera before, but in all honesty, that fact was a relief.

She hadn't had any classes with them last year, so it was understandable that they didn't realize she existed. This interaction felt as though she was flaunting her existence to the entire world after a year of remaining unseen.

Scott gave her an odd, thoughtful look. "Ah, okay. I guess that explains why you look so familiar."

Her heart nearly stopped pounding. She wished she could charm away his interest like she could charm away her scent. But the only thing she could do was hope and pray that Scott didn't suggest that she looked somewhat similar to a broody alpha he knew. Her breathing tightened at the very thought of Derek finding out that she was here. Alive.

"Must be," Sera muttered, directing her gaze elsewhere. She bounced her leg, a nervous habit that she had developed while she was in foster care.

"What brought you to Beacon Hills?" Sera's head snapped up, and she locked eyes with Allison. "Did your parents get a job nearby or something?" Her voice was quiet and polite, almost a little embarrassed by how direct her questions sounded. Sera processed what she said for a moment.

"No," Sera answered, throat closing at the mention of her parents. In a flash, she saw her father laughing, his yellow-green eyes full of mirth. Her mother's lullabies echoed eerily through her head. "I lived here when I was small." There was an uncomfortable pause. "I'm emancipated, actually. I used to live with my adoptive mom but… I decided it was time to come back home."

That wasn't a lie. Sera wanted to be closer to her brother, no matter the risk. She had grown up considerably in the past six years, and she longed to be near Derek after Laura's brutal murder, even if he didn't know she was here. Maybe she was just being selfish and trying to console herself with his presence. She wasn't really sure. All she knew was that it was best to stay out of the way—Sera believed that Derek had finally started to move on from their family's deaths.

Laura's death had hit Sera especially hard. Her older sister had always seemed so invincible, but her death had proved that no one was immortal, not even the beautiful and deadly. Sera had thought Laura and Derek would be safer if she were gone. She thought Kate would come after her and leave them alone.

But in the end, it wasn't the hunter who had murdered her sister—it was her own blood, a member of her own pack: her uncle, Peter.

The shock had nearly destroyed Sera. She had been in a murderous rage after the devastation faded, but she had to remind herself that she couldn't be seen. Seraphina Hale no longer existed. She was just a memory, a figment of the imagination.

And figments of the imagination couldn't brutally murder their uncles, even if it seemed like that was the only thing that would bring them peace.

Apparently Stiles didn't like the drawn-out silence she had brought upon herself, so he turned to his friends and said, giving Sera a look out of the corner of his eye: "Seraphina is going to be sitting with us at lunch tomorrow." There wasn't even time for her to argue, and if she would have attempted to, she would have come off as rude. Another forced smile came to her lips.

"If that's okay with everyone," Sera added.

Scott and Allison nodded in compliance, and Lydia gave her another once-over and said evenly, "There'll be plenty of room since Allison and I won't be eating there anymore."

Allison turned to Lydia in surprise. "We're not?"

Lydia shot the hunter girl a warning look and gave a small shake of her head.

Allison sighed and grumbled, "Nope, apparently not."

Scott's face fell at the mention of the girls sitting at a different table. Sera couldn't help but feel bad for the poor boy—break-ups had to be hard, especially if your ex turned out to be a hunter who could kill you at any given moment.

Sera was relieved that Scott had accepted her into his circle, but she was a bit mortified that Stiles had broached a subject that was obviously still sore.

Babysitting the McCall pack didn't seem like it would be so bad if she could keep her identity secret. Derek would probably be grateful that she was watching them if he knew that she was alive and well.

Then again, Sera thought sadly, I don't really know Derek anymore, do I?

"It's settled then," Stiles announced with a grin, slamming his hand down on the bleachers. The sound reverberated, making Sera grit her teeth to keep from wincing. Obviously, only she and Scott were bothered, because he elbowed Stiles in the ribs and gave him a pained look.

Unfortunately, Scott wasn't distracted long enough to remain oblivious to what Sera was wearing. "Hey, are those Stiles' gym clothes?" he blurted.

Sera's cheeks flamed a bright, blotchy red. She cursed her pale skin.

But luckily, Stiles decided to save her ass yet again. "Yeah, they're mine. I let her borrow them after her run-in with Danae during lunch."

Lydia's dark green eyes locked on Sera like a heat-seeking missile. "Oh, so you're the one who dumped Danae's tray?" Sera winced, fidgeting uncomfortably. "Couldn't really see who you were from our table. That's lucky for you, I guess." Lydia pursed her lips. "For a second, I thought you had voluntarily worn that to school." She waved her hand at Sera's outfit.

"Lydia!" Allison hissed. Lydia cocked an eyebrow but said nothing else, seemingly satisfied. Allison sent Sera an apologetic look, and even Stiles seemed pained. Sera brushed off Lydia's musings, knowing that her blunt words weren't meant to be malicious.

"I was just lucky that Stiles had extra clothes for me to wear," Sera sighed, tucking her hands under her thighs. She turned her gaze on the Stilinski boy, lashes low over her eyes. "I really do appreciate it."

Stiles cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, pink dusting his cheeks. "Totally not a problem. Not at all."

The others stared between them in confusion until Lydia finally huffed: "Come on, Allison. We're going to the concession stand." She grabbed the dark haired girl's arm and yanked her down the bleachers, impossibly high heels clicking all the way.

Scott's smile was an apology in itself. "Sorry about that. Lydia can be…well, she's Lydia. And she's still kinda upset that her ex moved."

Sera nodded but said nothing. She rested her chin on her open palm once again. It was so weird to be sitting there, conversing with a jittery human and a love-sick werewolf.

Scott bit his lip and stared at Stiles, whose eyes were locked on Lydia as she flounced over to the concession stand with Allison in tow. "Stiles, this summer you said you were going to move on from Lydia. You said you were going to keep all of your options open."

Stiles slipped his helmet on, but Sera could still see his frown. "We both said we were moving on, Scott. But if I get an opportunity, you'd better believe that I'm going to take it." Stiles tapped his fingers restlessly on the bleachers as he leaned closer to his best friend. "And you're still hung up on Allison—you even admitted it. Don't tell me you wouldn't get back together with her in a heartbeat if you could."

Scott muttered his assent, making Sera smirk.

"Bad break-up?" she asked him, pretending to be oblivious.

Scott clenched a fist, pressing his knuckles against his temple. His dark eyes wandered over to where Allison stood at the concession stand. "Something like that," he said under his breath.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle blast sounded through the air. Scott cringed, slapping his hands over his ears. Sera fought the urge to do the same, biting her tongue so hard she tasted blood. Scott was so obvious—if she acted like him, everyone would know there was something strange about her in a matter of seconds.

Sera gave Stiles an innocent, questioning look, wanting to hear the excuse he came up with.

He bit his bottom lip. "Uh, really sensitive ears," he told her shrilly, patting Scott's shoulder. Both boys gave Sera unconvincing smiles.

It took everything in Sera not to roll her eyes. Oh, boy. Yep, they're definitely new at this.

"McCall! Stilinski! I don't know if you heard the whistle or not, but last time I checked, it meant get your asses down on the field!" Sera stared at the wild-haired man that she knew to be Coach Finstock. He looked livid from his spot at the bottom of the bleachers.

Scott and Stiles scrambled to their feet, shooting her embarrassed looks as they made their way toward their snickering teammates. Stiles glanced back at the last second.

"Hey, Seraphina, I didn't even ask—do you have a ride home after practice?"

"Oh, no… I usually just walk."

Stiles stared at her like she had just admitted that she enjoyed streaking through public areas. "Walk? But it'll be dark by then!" he yelped.

A laugh forced itself out of her mouth. "I'm tougher than I look," Sera teased. "I'm not afraid of the dark, Stiles."

The boy's face had paled considerably. "It's not the dark that you should be afraid of. Didn't you hear about the…"

"Murders?" she provided. Sera's heart hammered. "Yeah, but didn't the guy who committed those crimes drown or something?"

Stiles looked like he wanted to be sick. "He did," he confirmed, his voice hoarse. "But still, I'm giving Scott a ride, and I'd feel much better if you would let me take you home, too." There was an urgency in his voice that made a fire ignite in her stomach. Stiles wanted to protect her, even though they had just met. He felt compelled to look out for people, a quality that made him admirable. Sera could see why he and Scott were such good friends—they both were protectors, in their own sort of way.

She didn't know everything that had happened to Stiles in this past year, but she could tell the memories of Gerard, the kanima, and werewolves plagued his nightmares as well as his everyday life. His eyes were haunted. It was the look of a person who had seen too much of this world and who didn't want anyone else to experience what he was experiencing.

Sera almost wanted to cry—to cry for Stiles' innocence lost, to cry for all the secrets that shrouded who she really was. Sera could never tell Stiles that she understood his pain.

But maybe, she could try to lessen the pain for the both of them.

"Sure," she said finally, surprising Stiles and herself. "A ride would be nice. After all," Sera snorted, "apparently I'm offending the general public with my fashion choices."

Stiles raised an eyebrow, obviously amused.

"The way Lydia was looking at me… I might as well have taken these from a Dumpster."

"Don't let her get to you. I scavenge in only the finest garbage cans of Beacon Hills."

Sera laughed. "Don't worry about me. I've heard enough about Lydia to not really take it to heart."

And there it was—that grin again. "Good to know."

Stiles and Sera jumped as another whistle blast pierced the air. "Stilinski! What part of 'ass on the field' do you not understand?! I'm not speaking Greek, am I? No? Good! Get down here now before I give your position to Greenberg!"

Stiles winced and mumbled, "Ah, Coach, not Greenberg…" Then he ran down the metal stairs so he could take his place on the field.

Lydia and Allison narrowly missed him on their way back up the steps, their arms laden with popcorn and huge fountain drinks.

Sera raised an eyebrow as they settled into their seats beside her. "I didn't think there would be concessions during practices. Do they always have them?"

Lydia waved away her question like it was the stupidest thing she had ever heard. "Everyone goes to these practices. It's not like we're the sucky football team or something. And plus, the band kids have to make money somehow."

Sera nodded politely, not trusting herself to speak.

"When do they announce who has what position?" Allison asked casually, looking at Lydia out of the corner of her eye.

Lydia pursed her full lips. "Sometime soon, I think." She gave Allison a knowing look. "Why? Interested to know if your ex made team captain?"

Color flooded into Allison's pale cheeks, instantly giving her away.

Lydia tilted her chin up, her haughty expression aimed at Allison. "Finstock won't let him play in an actual game unless he can keep his grades up, you know. If Jackson were here, he would still be team—"

"If," Allison said, her voice deathly quiet. Sera saw something dangerous flash in her normally bright eyes. "If Jackson were still here. But he's not."

Lydia didn't answer, but Sera saw her bottom lip quiver ever so slightly.

"What position does Stiles normally play?" Sera asked, subtly trying to diffuse the tension.

"Normally, he has a nice spot on the bench. But toward the end of the last season, he did an okay job," Lydia told Sera, her eyes never leaving the field. Her voice wavered just a bit.

"Stiles is pushing for co-captain," Allison informed Sera with a smile. It was like she hadn't even snapped at Lydia. Sera couldn't return the gesture. She saw blonde hair and cunning eyes when she looked at Allison. Unintentionally, she saw Kate giving her a smile laced with betrayal.

A shudder ran through the length of Sera's body. "Oh," she croaked weakly, wrapping her arms around herself. "That's pretty awesome."

Allison nodded and offered Sera some popcorn. She took a handful to be polite, murmuring a quiet thanks. Turning her attention back to the scrimmage, she couldn't help but be surprised to see Stiles agilely slipping through throngs of boys, weaving with impressive skill. Allison said something about Scott helping him practice over the summer, but Sera barely heard her. She was too mesmerized by Stiles' performance to fully understand what Allison had said.

Sera watched as the Stilinski boy ducked and dived, marveling as he made goal after goal. There was something intriguing about watching him play. Humans were slower than werewolves and didn't have the stamina that they did, but they pushed themselves at times when werewolves didn't need to. They had to work for what they wanted, and train to be better.

Stiles paused for a second too long, eyes darting up to look at Allison, Lydia, and Sera sitting in the bleachers. A small, crooked smile found its way to his lips as he watched them stare at him in amazement. When he was slammed into the ground, ball stolen after that second-too-long pause, Sera was no less impressed.

Sera had watched the McCall pack from a distance for a year, but only Stiles had really stood out to her. She had wondered what made him different, and now she finally had the answer—it became clear as he forced himself up off the ground, teeth gritted, a determined light in his eyes.

He was resilient in a way that put Sera to shame. Werewolves survived and thrived because their instincts pushed them to become more brutal and animalistic. It was in their nature to overcome. But humans survived because something in them, in him, refused to succumb without a fight, feeble as it might be.

Humans endured and retained their humanity. Sera wished her own wasn't smoldering ash.

xxx

"Thanks for the ride."

Sera grabbed her bag from the backseat of Stiles' Jeep and pulled it into her lap with ease.

After lacrosse practice, Stiles had followed through with his offer, letting both Scott and Sera jump into the Jeep. "No complaining," he had told her with a grin. "My driving skills are to die for."

Scott had snorted from his spot in the passenger seat. "Nice choice of words, Stiles. Really comforting."

Truthfully, Stiles wasn't a bad driver. He dropped Scott off at his house without issue, and he had made it to Sera's apartment complex without wrecking into anything, so she took that as a good sign.

"No problem," Stiles said absently, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in front of him. His eyes were locked on her tiny, cheap apartment building. Sera immediately felt self-conscious—the place was nice enough on the inside, but Ophelia had only given her access to a very small portion of the Hale family fortune.

The account should have been closed after their supposed death, but Ophelia had somehow managed to keep a part of the money. Sera didn't know how. Complicated magic had always made Sera nervous, so she didn't tend to ask Ophelia many questions about money laundering.

"So… emancipated means you live by yourself, right?"

Sera tensed immediately. She didn't want their conversation to stray into dark, inaccessible territory. She didn't want to lie to Stiles if it wasn't necessary. He had shown her kindness when no one else did, and she owed him for that. But she couldn't talk about her past—it simply wasn't an option.

"Yes, I live by myself."

Stiles cleared his throat. "Sorry, I—I wasn't trying to pry or anything. I just thought…" Stiles turned his gaze on her. His caramel eyes softened when he took in Sera's guarded expression and rigid posture. "That just seems so…lonely."

She tightened her grip on her messenger bag. Sera wanted to snap at him and tell him that it was none of his business, but she didn't. He wasn't wrong.

She had always been lonely, even when she was a child. Something about her had set her apart from everyone else, and it tore at her heart to think that Stiles could read her so easily. Sera could hide behind lies all she wanted, but some people, like this boy, wouldn't be fooled by any mask.

Tears burned behind her eyes. She hadn't cried in months, but today had been a whirlwind of emotion. She couldn't look at Stiles. When Sera finally found her voice, she whispered: "It is lonely. But some things can't be changed. And no matter what happens, Beacon Hills will always be my home."

Sera pushed open the door and slung her bag over her shoulder. "Thanks again for the ride. Good night, Stiles." She gathered her dark hair in her hands to get it out of the way of her bag straps. Before she could jump out of the Jeep, Stiles' hand latched onto her arm.

Sera's eyes widened. She looked back at Stiles. This close, she could see the hazel flecks in his eyes, the freckles on his neck and face, the pulse pumping rapidly in his throat.

Stiles' sympathy tasted rich in her mouth.

He looked at her, really looked at her. The set of his mouth was grim. Where was the joking boy she had met this morning? This Stiles was unnerving. "Being lonely…" Stiles' gaze was nervous, but sincere. "It's not an easy thing. And—and I just want to tell you that you don't have to be alone anymore if you, uh…If you don't want to be, Sera."

Sera bit her lip and closed her eyes for a second. Stiles' words were disorienting—he had called her Sera, Derek's nickname for her when she was little. And he had offered to be her friend, even though she was awkward and sometimes brutally blunt.

Stiles withdrew his hand from her arm when her eyes opened. What an odd, kind thing this boy was. Odd and kind enough to care about someone like Sera. "Thank you," she breathed, her words softened by his sympathy. She eased herself out of the Jeep and gave Stiles a tiny smile over her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, Stiles."

Stiles waved at her and put the Jeep into gear.

Shutting the door carefully, Sera turned and began to make her way to the apartment building. The late August air was warm and thick against her skin, and full of noises of insects singing nearby. Stiles' words and the scent of him on the clothes she was wearing distracted her from noticing anything else about the scenery.

That is, until out of the corner of her eye, Sera saw something move behind her.

Sera whirled around, her eyes flashing their familiar gold in the darkness. The shadow darted behind the dense cover of the trees before she could properly decipher what it was. She cursed under her breath, trying to keep her heart rate down so she wouldn't shift. Another wolf was nearby, maybe even watching her.

Gritting her teeth, Sera forced herself to turn on heel and march up the stairs to her apartment. She could barely control her urge to shift—shivers wracked her body from the effort.

Curiosity finally made her give up on staying inside. Sera wandered out onto her balcony, her eyes scanning the ground below. There was nothing there, but her lips still pulled back from her teeth in a snarl. Something wasn't right. Sera could feel it deep inside of her.

She climbed onto the flimsy metal railing that separated her balcony from the ground. She sat on the cool iron, balancing precariously as she tipped her head back. The moon was large and yellow over her head, its light spilling across her face. The almost-fullness of it, paired with the danger that was lurking somewhere in the woods, waiting for her, made Sera's blood sing.

XXX

Chapter 3 song of 2013: Broken Things by Dave Matthews Band

Chapter 3 song of 2023: lessons by mxmtoon

Thanks for reading!