"I'm not crazy."

"Hey, I didn't say you were."

"I know that look, and I'm not crazy."

"Okay, I did not give you a look."

"Yes, you did, and it's the kind of look that says you don't want to believe me."

"Sadie, I want to believe you. I guess I just don't want to have to think about Peter Hale still being a problem for us."

"Well, that makes two of us."

Stiles sighed, leaning back on a bookshelf. It was Wednesday, and he'd dropped by the library during my shift so I could finally talk to him in person. Lydia had basically been holding me hostage for the last few days, cramming every second with some best-friend-birthday-prep activity that absolutely needed to be done before the party. Between shopping for party supplies, constructing playlists, decorating, going to lunch, going to the movies, going to dinner, and trying to figure out how Derek's psychopathic uncle could have affected my best friend—I felt like I hadn't been breathing all week.

What made everything worse was the distinct feeling that Lydia had noticed me trying to pull away. She'd still been her overly perky self, grilling me about school and the details of my love life, but ever since our visit to the animal clinic, I couldn't look at her straight. It was hard to talk about hooking up with Stiles when I was half-convinced I was talking to Peter instead of Lydia. And ever since our visit to the animal clinic, Lydia had made a point to be practically sewn to my side. We'd had every meal together and even slept in the same room for the last four nights. Short of confiscating my phone, Lydia was putting all her energy into monitoring me. While that made it easy for me to monitor her, it was also driving me up the wall. I'd barely convinced her to leave me alone at work.

"And you haven't heard from Deaton?" Stiles asked, passing me another book from the shelving cart.

"Nope. Which is obviously not calming me down."

"I don't know. Maybe no news is good news, right?" I gave him a pointed look, and he cocked his head in ascent. "Or it means everything is awful and something is devastatingly wrong. Which is more likely."

"I just wish he'd told me something, you know?" I complained as I shelved the last few books. "I could be doing my own research right now! If you don't want me to act on anything, fine, but don't leave me in the agonizing and ignorant dark."

"That was incredibly poetic." He dodged my smack with a grin and propped his elbows on the cart. "Come on, Deaton knows that if you knew something, you wouldn't be able to stand by and wait for someone else to make the call. Not if it was about Lydia."

"This coming from the guy who tried to train his werewolf best friend."

"Successfully trained, thank you very much. Besides, Lydia being ridiculously controlling isn't exactly out of the ordinary, right? All things considered, I think she's acting pretty normal."

"She's too normal."

Stiles dropped his head to his chest, then looked up at me with pleading eyes. "Come on, Sadie. Things can't be awful all the time, right?"

"Stiles," I said sternly, glowering at him with my hands on my hips, "you're the one who taught me to question everything. And you're usually right."

"Well, I can't argue with that." I smirked as he pushed himself off the cart, walking around to drape and arm around my shoulder. He kissed my cheek and pulled me back toward the front desk. "Much as I love being right, I'm also a fan of ignoring the utter crapstorm that is my life and pretending everything's normal. So, how's the party coming?"

The words alone were enough to make me feel nauseous, but if Stiles wanted normal…

"Fine, I guess. Possessed or not, it looks like Lydia's still got a knack for social gatherings."

"Hey, she's thrown enough parties. She could probably plan a wedding in her sleep."

Stiles invited himself behind the desk with me without the slightest hesitation. He even pulled out my chair for me, bowing as I sat down. Then he hopped up on the counter in front of me.

"Hey, what'd you get Lydia for her birthday?"

"This jacket she's been eyeing for a couple months. It was heavily insinuated that would be the best gift for her."

"Whew. She's got everything on lockdown, huh?"

I hummed noncommittally. Sure, Lydia had everything perfectly figured out, except why her friends were lying to her and why there was a homicidal maniac living in her brain.

"Uh, hey!" Stiles raised his voice a little higher, distracting me from the depressing train of thought. "So, do you want your gift tonight, or should I wait until Sunday?"

"Stiles, I told you I didn't want you to get me anything."

"Yeah, which every guy knows is code for 'I just don't want to tell you what to get cause it doesn't mean as much, but I totally want an awesome gift, so wow me." I snorted, and he ran his knuckles down my arm with a grin. "So, come on. Tonight or Sunday? If you don't pick, I'm just gonna have to give you two gifts, and then you'll be really mad at me."

"You can bring it tonight," I sighed.

Stiles leaned down to kiss me, one thumb stroking my cheek. "Atta girl."

"Mr. Stilinski, you do realize the desk is for employees, yes?"

Stiles almost fell off the counter as Mrs. Sasso rounded the corner, barely sparing us a glance. He stood up and rubbed his neck nervously. "Yes, but—but I was helping Sadie put books back, so I thought that m-maybe I could be an honorary employee."

"Wrong. Other side of the desk, thank you."

He muttered a few choice curses as she walked away, but shuffled around to the patron side of the desk. He folded his arms on top of the counter and rested his head on top. "So Scott's gonna be able to come tonight."

"Well that's good, right?" I asked. "Does that mean he's not grounded anymore?"

"Oh, no, he's still grounded. I just think Melissa likes you better than me. What else is new? So he can come, but he's gotta be on call in case Derek and the weremunks get out of hand."

"Is he gonna be alright? I mean with the whole…"

I waved a hand vaguely toward the ceiling.

"Yeah, I don't think he's feeling it. Mostly he seems angsty cause he's not talking to Allison."

"Still?" I whined. "Jesus Christ, it wasn't her fault. She warned us that she talked to her dad. And Scott told her to go out with Matt. It's not like we had some stellar all-star plan that was ruined just cause her family showed up. We were doing pretty shitty on our own. And considering that he doesn't want to tell her that he almost died—"

"Hey, hey, I know!" Stiles's hands shot forward to hold my voice behind the desk, and he glanced around to make sure no one was listening to my tirade. "He's being dumb, I know. I'm gonna talk to him later. Allison needs to know. They can't keep not talking like this."

I looked up at him, chewing on the inside of my cheek. He was right; they couldn't keep going like this. Allison needed to know that her mom almost killed Scott, and Scott needed to know that Matt was stalking his girlfriend, but everyone was too worried about giving everyone else too much to worry about. I knew where they were coming from, but I also knew that we worked better when we were all on the same page. And I'd never actually said that I wouldn't tell anyone…

"There's something else. We were right about Matt."

"W-what do you mean?" Stiles demanded, practically hurling himself over the desk. "He's working with Jackson?!"

"Well—no, okay, I don't know if you were right about Matt, but…he's bad. He—Allison drove him home after the rave and found a bunch of pictures of her on his camera. Like, a bunch of pictures."

"Wait, what?"

"He's stalking her, Stiles. Old-school, climbing-up-the-tree-outside-your-bedroom stalking. I—and I was talking to her yesterday and she wasn't want me to tell Scott and she doesn't want to go to the police, or tell her family, and I wasn't supposed to tell you, but I mean, we can't let her go around while this fucking sociopath—"

Stiles was running around the desk before I realized I wasn't breathing. He gently grabbed my wrists, moving one hand to my face so that I had to look at him.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. Ally can take care of herself, but you're right. We'll keep an eye on him and watch her back. I hate this too, but you're doing the best you can, Sade. Okay? That's all anyone can ask for. You can't protect everyone from everything all the time. And is crazy as it sounds, a stalker is probably the most normal problem we have right now."

I sniffled, pushing my face into Stiles's hand. "Yeah, well not being able to tell your parents because they're too busy hunting your friend's ex-boyfriend isn't."

"Yeah, well we're gonna have to take what we can get."

He pulled me to my feet and hugged me to his chest. The weight of his chin on my shoulder was oddly comforting, and I already felt myself beginning to calm down. I hadn't really realized how reliant I'd become on Stiles until these last few weeks. Part of me was frustrated that I needed him in order to operate like a normal human, but mostly, I was relieved I had him at all.

"I love you," he whispered, pressing his lips against my hair.

I grinned, still not used to the words. "I love you, too."

"Aaand I am absolutely leaving now, Mrs. Sasso." Stiles pecked me on the lips and scurried back around the counter as my boss approached. "I'll see you tonight, Bennet. Text me if you need anything."

I lifted my hand in a small wave, but he'd already fled to the exit. Mrs. Sasso wandered up beside me. She placed a stack of books next to me, watching Stiles go with her eyes narrowed behind her glasses.

"You know, that boy really does seem to love you."

I ducked my head and pulled the books toward me so I could can them back into the system. "Sorry, Mrs. Sasso. There's just…a lot going on lately."

"How are you feeling, Sadie? You know, if things get to be too much, you can always take a few days off."

"Thank you. I'll let you know."

I already knew that I had no intentions of skipping out on work. I'd been taking an abysmal number of shifts as it was, what with the Alpha and the kanima and the hunters and everything else. If I took any more days off, it would mean not working at all.

Mrs. Sasso rested a hand on my shoulder. "Just hang in there, sweetie. I know how hard it is after the loss of a loved one. It takes time. No one expects you to be perfectly alright."

She squeezed my arm gently and walked away without hovering. I was thankful for that, at least. Any words I would have used to respond seemed to be sticking in the sadness that was coating my throat. It'd been growing over the last few days, making me increasingly uneasy as my birthday approached. I didn't like thinking about my possibly possessed best friend and her killer-lizard-ex-boyfriend and the happy hunting gamily trying to kill him and the woman that I'd shot and the pack of werewolves that had been created over the past few months. It was exhausting and nauseating and terrifying, but the thoughts that might creep in if I left my mind unoccupied were almost equally as horrifying.

Normal. Happy. Normal. Calm. Relaxed. Happy. Normal.

I was not in the least bit surprised to find Lydia's car idling at the library door when I got off my shift. I was honestly more surprised she hadn't come inside to physically escort me out of the building. When I made it to the car, she was twisted in the driver's seat, moving packages out of the front seat into the back. I reached for one to help, but got my hand smacked.

"No! These are birthday gifts. No peeking."

I blinked, peering at the seven or eight bags in the backseat. "All of them?"

"Well, most of them. One of them is mine, one of them is my returns, and the rest are dresses I picked out for you. You can pick three of them and the rest I'll take back."

"You didn't want to just pick three dresses?"

"Sadie, do not push me. You know as well as I do that everything is very different on the hanger, and that women's clothing sizes are arbitrary numbers chosen by companies with little to no standardization. Of course, I would have been more selective if you'd actually bothered to come to the mall with me…"

I dodged her glare as I ducked inside the car. "Lydia, I had to work. I can only take off so many times, and you know it's been a…weird semester…"

"Please," she huffed as she pulled out of the parking lot, the smooth ride at odds with her death grip on the wheel. "You worked twice as long as you normally do. At the very least, you should have come to Allison's with me. We agreed that things were going to go back to normal, and that's hard to do when you refuse to hang out with us."

"I'm—I'm not refusing to hang out with you. I just…had to make up some hours I missed…"

Lydia pursed her lips, clearly not impressed with my answer. Neither was I, in all honesty, but it wasn't like I could tell her the truth. I couldn't even tell Allison the truth.

I'd started having nightmares again, most of them featuring Scott's limp, lifeless body carried in Derek's arms. He had almost died last week, and the implications of that shook me to my very core. I didn't know if Victoria had acted alone, or if the entirety of Allison's family had decided to throw their code out the window, the way Gerard had wanted to a few months ago. If they were willing to kill Scott even though he'd never hurt anyone, how long would it be before the other rules fell too? What was stopping the Argents from coming after me, even though I wasn't a wolf?

That was the other half of the nightmare: Kate standing over me, drenched in blood, still laughing as she got to shoot me this time, or Chris with his crossbow, or Victoria with a knife, or Gerard with his sword. After what had happened to Scott, I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to sit in the same room as the Argents ever again.

"What do you think?"

I blinked, looking over at Lydia and trying not to seem too confused. "Excuse me?"

Lydia huffed and turned back to the road. "I know you're not crazy about him, but I can't just not invite him. I don't want him to think he'd getting to me like that. I'm trying to be the more mature one. Inviting him to the party means I'm winning the break up."

"Jackson? You want to invite Jackson to your birthday party?"

"It's our party, Sadie. And yes. I need to know I'm in control of something. I know you hate him, but—"

"No, actually, that's…that's good."

I didn't really want to be anywhere near Jackson, but it was important to keep an eye on him. Tonight wasn't just Lydia's birthday; it was a full moon. I couldn't leave Lydia alone, in case she had another mental breakdown, but we also needed to make sure Jackson didn't shift and kill more people. So long as he was with us, at least I'd have a heads up.

Lydia was staring at me, her eyebrows well on their way to forming a solid line on her brow. "What?"

"What?" I repeated. "I just mean that, uh…yeah. I get it. Inviting him, trying not to be petty about it. Besides, the asshole will probably show up either way, or…not show up either way, so the best thing to do is try to invite him. I get it. Win."

"Hmph." She narrowed her eyes at me for as long as she could before turning back to the road. "Maybe you're learning something from me after all."

"God, I hope not."

She turned on the radio after that, and I let her ramble about all the other things on our to do list before the party tonight. I was only half listening, but Lydia either didn't notice or didn't care. I was a captive audience, and I would listen to what she had to say whether or not I wanted to process it.

When we finally made it back to the house, Lydia parked at the end of the driveway, but didn't kill the ignition. I looked over at her, but she was staring straight ahead with almost no emotion on her face.

"I guess you're going to talk to Jackson, huh," I offered.

"Yes."

"You know, you could just…text him or something."

"I need to mare she he's coming. Everyone is coming."

I held my breath for a moment, but Lydia didn't even glance over at me. She stared ahead, her mission set in her mind. Weird as she might have been acting lately, that part was quintessential Lydia.

"Just…be careful, alright?" I asked. "I don't want you to—"

"Don't want me to get hurt, I got it. Really, Sadie. I'm going to be better than ever." Her head snapped toward mine, a wide smile plastered over her face. "Can you take the bags in? I'll be back in a bit."

Lydia's car was long gone by the time I got to the front door with all of her bags. The plan was to drop them in her room so we could look through them together, but I stopped outside the door to my mother's office. I let myself in without bothering to knock, dumped the bags on the floor, and then trudged over to the desk. I collapsed next to her chair, my head leaning against the side of her leg.

"Hey, sweetie. How was work?"

I let out a feeble groan in response.

"That good, huh?"

Another groan.

Mom's hand reached down for my head and gently weaved through my hair. She leaned back from her computer, giving me her full attention. "What's up, Sadie?"

"I'm…tired. I don't know."

"Did Lydia go shopping while you were at work?"

"Yeah. She probably bought about fifty dresses so I'll have something to wear tonight."

Mom's hand paused in my hair for barely a second. Then she went back to twirling different locks around her fingers. "That's nice."

"I guess. What are you doing?"

"Oh, just trying to get some of these reports done. If this piece of shit computer would stop freezing."

She slammed her mouse on the desk a few times, which of course, did nothing. I grinned up at her.

"I think it knows you're mad."

"Good! I'll instill the fear of death in this thing. I have things to do besides sit here staring at an hourglass."

"When are you and Natalie headed out?"

The mouse hit the desk a little harder that time, but she finally stopped.

"I don't know," she sighed, bringing both hands up to her temples. "I was thinking I might just stay here. Do some work, keep an eye on things…"

"Mom, I'll be fine."

"I know, and I want to believe it, but I feel like every time I leave you alone, something terrible happens. Even that concert you went to! You know they found another body there?"

"I wasn't there, Mom. I told you, I ended up leaving early to watch movies with Erica."

"Which you didn't call me about! You promised to call when you got there, and when you left, and I didn't hear anything from you! Do you know how worried that makes me?"

"I know, I—I'm sorry. I know I should have called you. Sometimes…there's just so much going on, all the time. I finally got a normal night, and I just wanted to enjoy it. I guess I didn't want to think about all those people, so…I forgot how worried you would be."

Mom sighed, just like I knew she was going to, and ran a comforting hand over my head. "I know. And I want you to have a normal life, but that comes after making sure you're alive to have a life. You have to be more careful, sweetheart."

"I know."

I leaned my head against her chair again, satisfied that the argument had been put off for the time being. It was getting more difficult to come up with good excuses for all the predicaments I ended up in, a little bit harder with each body the police found. I had to settle for another small lie. I did want a normal night, but the night of the rave had been the farthest thing from normal. I wasn't sure whether it was brave or stupid to let my mother be optimistic that I was just an average teenage girl who forgot to call home because she was too busy watching movies with friends. If she knew, she'd try to stop me from helping, maybe move us away from Beacon Hills and all the supernatural dangers it held. Then I'd be even more useless, and worried about everything that was happening out of sight. Plus, I didn't want her to worry about me, as much as she had the right to. Especially given our circumstances.

"It's just Lydia's birthday party," I tried to assure her. "The craziest thing that's gonna happen is some underage drinking."

"Well, that's a great comfort, thank you."

I grinned, twisting toward her chair so I could rest my chin on her knee. "Go to the boat house. Try to relax for a bit. Lydia says her mom's got a great collection of wine over there. Maybe you can talk her into watching True Blood or something."

"Right," she laughed. "Because after all the death in this town, I think I need some vampires."

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from replying, "You have no idea, Mom."

She tucked her lips in, holding her words back for a few more seconds before she sighed. "Are you sure you're going to be alright?"

"Yeah. Stiles and Scott and Allison are all coming, I'll keep an eye on Lydia, and I'll even put post-it notes up so I remember to check in with you every now and then."

"That's not a bad idea, but…it's not exactly what I meant."

I looked intently down at the carpet. "Yeah, I know."

"It's just…I think it's really sweet that Lydia wants to throw this party for you, but that doesn't mean you have to go along with it. It's going to be a hard year. It's been hard already, with all the craziness around here, but without your father…"

"It's not just my party, Mom. This is Lydia's party. She's had a hard year too, and if she wants a normal birthday, I'm gonna make sure she gets one."

"I know how much you love Lydia, honey. I just don't want you to bury everything you're feeling for her sake. Grieving is normal, healthy. I'm sure Lydia would understand if—"

"Can we not do this?" Mom blinked down at me, and I instantly regretted my harsh tone, but the growing feeling of nausea was making it hard to control. "I just…I can't right now. I don't want to think about Dad. It's…it is my best friend's birthday, and she has been hospitalized twice, and lost a whole lot of her friends, and gotten dumped by her piece of shit boyfriend, and all this other crap that…I don't even know. And I'll be damned if I'm anything less than a ray of fucking sunshine today. I don't want to talk about it right now. I…can't."

My mother pursed her lips. She moved her hands back to her keyboard and nodded stiffly. "Okay. We'll talk later."

"Mom, I'm sorry. It's just—"

"I know, Sadie. I understand. We can talk about it another time."

I folded my arms on top of my knees, sitting quietly as she tapped away at her keys. I didn't know what to do with myself. I knew Lydia probably wouldn't be long, but I didn't know if I could just sit at home and wait for her. I could already feel my limbs beginning to tingle with anxiety. I didn't want to be alone.

"Can I borrow the van?"

Mom didn't look up. "Go ahead."

I nodded, pushing myself to my feet and heading for the door. I forced myself to stop, though. I ran back to my mother, kissing her cheek and throwing my arms around her shoulders.

"Thanks, Mom. I love you."

"I love you, too," she said, doing her best to hide the strain in her smile. "And try to have fun tonight."

"Yeah. I'll try."

I didn't know where I was going until I pulled into the drive through. I ordered about fifty dollars' worth of food and pulled out again, heading for the edge of town. The sun was just passing its peak in the sky, but I knew that the full moon was only so far below the horizon. I had to be quick.

I shouldn't have been surprised to find Derek waiting for me in the parking lot. He'd probably recognized the sound of the van from a mile away. It also wasn't a huge shock that he looked angry. Not that he didn't always look grumpy, but dropping in unannounced on a pack of newbie werewolves the night of a full moon was probably not the smartest of decisions.

What did surprise me was the way his face softened when I got out of the car. He uncrossed his arms from over his chest, wordlessly reaching out for some of the take out bags I had piled into the passenger seat. Then he jerked his head to the side and led me down the stairs into the den.

"I told you I smelled Mexican!" Isaac called the moment he caught sight of the take out bags. "That's five bucks, Erica."

"Taco Bell does not count as Mexican," she scoffed. She was sitting cross-legged on a table, Boyd on the floor next to her. He nudged her leg with a grin, and she immediately rolled her eyes. "It doesn't! I'm not paying him."

"Fine. Boyd, cough up on behalf of your girlfriend."

Erica snarled, her eyes flashing gold, but it just made Isaac laugh harder.

"All of you shut up and eat," said Derek, dropping the bags next to the table. "And hurry up. The sun's going down soon."

I was pleased to see that Erica and Isaac both rolled their eyes at him as he walked away. Derek might have been their Alpha, but at least they were comfortable enough not to treat him like a commanding officer anymore.

"Bringing food to a pack of ravenous werewolves on a full moon?" Boyd asked as he burrowed through the closest bag. "You're braver than I thought, Sadie."

"Or stupider," Erica countered. She was waving off Boyd's look of disapproval before he'd even turned his head.

"I, for one, don't care." Isaac had grabbed two bags in one hand, then wrapped his free arm around my shoulder in a side-hug. "So long as she keeps feeding us."

He dodged the elbow I jabbed at his gut. I snatched one of the bags from his hand with a small smile. "You're all pretty peppy for a full moon."

"Don't be fooled," said Boyd. "Erica's minced a full set of tires in the last two hours."

"I'm just blowing off steam," she said with a shrug. "As if you didn't punch a few dents in that car frame."

"Derek's been keeping an eye on us," Isaac explained as he plopped down next to Boyd. "It's a lot easier when you can do something about it instead of sitting in school like a ticking time bomb."

I smiled, a bit relieved. There would always be a part of me that remembered my first full moon—the night Scott had broken free of the handcuffs in his room, and spent the whole day hurting just about anyone he could, physically or verbally. He'd gotten better at controlling it, but I knew that Derek's pack were still pretty unfamiliar with their transformations. I didn't want to think about them being at each other's throats like Scott had.

"Well, I'm glad you guys have something that works," I offered through a mouthful of taco.

"Not as good as Derek's gothic torture chamber," said Erica, snorting into her quesadilla.

That made me pause. "What?"

"They're just chains," Boyd said quickly. "He's still gotta lock us up. It's three against one. Those odds don't favor anyone, no matter how much experience they have."

"I wouldn't say 'just chains,'" Isaac mused. He picked at his nacho bowl in thought, holding a loaded chip up to the light. "That was a pretty gnarly headband he gave Erica."

"Gnarly?" she echoed. "Are you from the eighties now? Besides, I can handle it. Derek said so."

"Oh, well excuse me…"

The three of them continued to bicker over dinner. I did pretty well keeping up with the conversation, but the description of their restraints weighed on the back of my mind. I knew that, realistically, Derek would have to take some serious precautions if he was going to be in charge of three, newly-turned werewolves on a full moon. I could only imagine that turning three teenagers in a month was not traditional pack protocol. But I'd also seen Scott chained up more than once; it wasn't something I liked to think about.

After an hour or so, Derek reappeared and told me that it was time to go. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica were starting to get quiet, more of their concentration being diverted to fighting the effects of the moon. I was getting pretty quiet myself, feeling the darker thoughts lurking in the corner of my by brain. I packed up my things, said goodbye to the pack, and let Derek lead the way back upstairs.

It was quiet as we crossed the parking lot, but Derek stopped me before I could get in the van.

"It's okay, you know."

"Hm? Oh, I know. They've been through a lot worse than the full moon by now. I know they'll be okay."

"No. I mean you."

I turned back to look at him. Derek had that same, soft look on his face that he'd worn when I'd pulled up. It was comforting, in a way, but it also made my insides tense, ready to put up a wall at a moment's notice.

"What do you mean?"

"You're sad." He said it simply, stating a fact. "I could smell it before I even heard your car on the road. And…it's okay."

"Derek…I don't want to talk about it."

"I know, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to remind you. It gets easier."

I wanted to snap at him, just like I had with my mother. What room did Derek have to talk about things getting easier? This was Derek. Sour Wolf. He was the pinnacle of the brooding man who'd lost it all; never forgive, never forget, never heal. A lone wolf driven by anger who never wanted to get too close to people again. How did that ever get easier?

I wanted to snap at him, but for some reason, all the bile that had built up in my stomach was gone. I looked at Derek and saw nothing but understanding. He was my age when he lost his father, but also his mother and his sister and every other member of his pack. It was all too easy to imagine Laura and Derek fleeing to New York, trying and failing to celebrate birthdays and holidays. How could you, after something like that? How did that ever get easier?

But then I remembered that first night at the railcar—sitting in comfortable silence with Derek, eating burgers and fries, awkwardly dancing around the subject of my relationship with Stiles. It was the first time I'd heard Derek talk openly about his family. Now that I thought about it, it probably was the first time he'd talked openly about his family, especially to an outsider. Maybe he wasn't just spewing empty words when he said things would get easier. Maybe, after all this time, they were.

I nodded to him before looking back down at the pavement. Thankfully, he understood enough to gracefully change the subject.

"I promise the three of them will be fine. You're right. They've gone through a lot worse than a full moon. They're strong."

"About that," I said, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment. "Do I want to know what the plan is for tonight?"

"My plan is to keep them safe." He must've sensed my uncertainty, because he sighed in annoyance. "Is this about the restraints?"

"Kind of. I get that you have to use them, but the way they were talking about them…"

"It will get the job done. I know what I'm doing."

"Most of the time."

Derek's glare came out as more of an amused smirk, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I got them from my house, if it makes you feel any better. It's the same thing I had to go through. They're in for a rough night, but they can handle it."

"But Erica…?"

"Erica especially," he assured me. "She's made of stronger stuff than the guys. I'll take care of her."

He grinned, probably trying to be supportive, to show that he really did care about his pack, but the smile sparked something in one of my memory cells.

"That reminds me…"

That was all the warning he got before I slammed the heel of my palm into his arm. Derek was so surprised that he actually yelped and stumbled back a few steps. He looked more shocked than hurt, but I was happy with any reaction that wasn't paired with my own broken fingers.

"What the hell was that for?" he demanded.

"You kissed Erica?!"

"What? No! I—that is not what happened."

"Oh, of course not, because she kissed you first, right. You've got werewolf senses!"

"Hey, I'm still allowed to be surprised! I knocked her off as soon as I realized what was happening."

"Well, you might want to be a little more careful," I growled at him, "because there are a lot of feelings that come with being someone's savior. You saved her from that life—from the teasing, the epilepsy—and I get it. But she's sixteen."

"You think I don't know that?" His eyes flashed red as he snarled at me, but he immediately took a step back. He closed his eyes until he got his anger under control, then spoke in a tight voice. "Look, I get your point, but it's not going to be like that. I wouldn't…I know that."

I pressed my lips together, a twinge of guilt tugging me back down from my tirade. I'd completely forgotten about his history with Kate. If anyone knew about being manipulated as a minor, it was Derek.

He rolled his shoulder a few times, tilting his head back and forth. I imagined he was trying to shake the memories away. A few seconds later, he managed to grin at me.

"That wasn't a bad punch."

"I've been taking a few pointers from Allison," I said with a shrug.

"Have you spoken to her about…?"

"No. The last thing she needs to hear right now is that her mom tried to kill her boyfriend. She has enough on her plate."

"Yeah, I guess we all do." Derek looked up at the moon for a few seconds before shaking his head. "Just tell Scott to keep his phone on him. I don't want to be calling him for back up and get voicemail because you're all stumbling around drunk at a party."

"Of course," I snorted. "Because we're all dumb enough to get smashed on a full moon when there's three new werewolves, a human lizard, and a serial killer on the loose. Plus, Allison has a stalker, and Lydia…"

I stopped. I hadn't even thought to asked Derek about Lydia since I'd spoken to Deaton. I mentally kicked myself; that should have been my first course of action. Maybe Derek didn't know what was happening to Lydia, but if it was something that Peter could do…

"What is it?" Derek asked, already on high alert. "Sadie, what's going on?"

I winced, but Derek had a right to know if it had something to do with his family. And Peter was family, no matter how screwed up he'd been.

"Okay, don't…don't freak out, alright?"

Derek's arched eyebrows made it very clear that my warning was not helping, and he was fully prepared to freak out when I finished speaking.

"I…I have a theory about what's happening to Lydia. Or, I have half a theory."

"And?"

"She's…been saying some things lately. Things she wouldn't normally say. And I know that she's been weird the past few months, but this past week, she's been a lot better. Like, aggressively better. And I started thinking about some of the things that she'd said to me, and…they're all things that Peter said."

If I had been watching someone give Derek this information a few months ago, I would have guess that he'd already known. His face barely moved. It was only in the little things that I could see the shock coursing through him: the glint in his eyes as they opened a fraction wider, the wrinkles on his knuckles disappearing as he tightened his fists ever so slightly.

The words were tumbling out of me now, slurred together as I tried to get it all out before Derek exploded.

"She said she's been seeing him, in her dreams or—or visions I guess, but everything she told me sounded legit, because she was talking about how Peter only attacked her because of me, because I didn't want the bite, and how I was dangerous because I'd shot Kate—well, she didn't mention Kate, but she knew that I'd hurt someone—and at first I thought, 'okay, I'm imagining things' because the last thing I want on top of the rest of this bullshit is to worry about Peter again, but then I took Lydia to go see Deaton, just in case, and when I told him about Peter he got all quiet and said that he was going to look into it some more and let me know when he found something, only I haven't heard from him all week and he's not taking my calls, so I don't know if that's something good or if that means that it's really bad. So I don't have any proof exactly, but I thought…I just…thought you might want to know…"

It was very quiet after that. Derek would not meet my gaze. He looked down at the pavement, arms hanging at his sides. I might have thought he was a statue. For a full minute, his entire body seemed to be frozen—no breath, no pulse—nothing but the thought that some fragment of his uncle might still be hanging onto this world. And then…

"That's not possible."

"I know how it sounds, but—"

"No, Sadie, it's not possible." He finally lifted his head, shrugging carelessly and folding his arms over his chest. "I've never heard of anything like that happening. Werewolves don't possess people. At worst, there might've been a transference of memory when he bit her. That can happen sometimes, when—"

"When werewolves claw people, I know." Derek stared at me, taken aback, and I rolled my eyes. "What? You think I've been waiting around for you to give me answers this whole time? I do research. Peter did it to Scott, you did it to Jackson, but Peter bit Lydia. I don't think that's the same thing."

"Well, maybe Peter's a special case, then. It's a hell of a lot more likely than possession."

The words were sharp, and I struggled not to take a step back from them. I nodded slowly, pretending the reassurance was working, but that feeble attempt wasn't going to fool a werewolf.

"Sorry," he huffed. "I'll try and contact Deaton, but I'm sure it's fine."

"Yeah. Thanks."

I chanced a glance at Derek, but he seemed completely and utterly calm about the whole thing. It might have been calm-confidence or calm-denial, but I wasn't a werewolf; I couldn't tell the difference. The only thing I could sense from Derek was that the conversation was over. So I nodded, and climbed into the front seat of the van.

Derek leaned on the door when I rolled the window down, offering me the most supportive smile he could muster. "Try to have fun tonight. And if anything comes up, you can call me."

"Right," I sighed. "I guess I'll talk to you later."

The words didn't feel right. Even as I drove off, it felt like the whole world was flipping under my feet. I'd grown up in one world only to find myself in another, and now that supernatural world was changing all the rules. I'd barely started to grasp what was going on in Beacon Hills, and everything was already starting to change again. I didn't know what to do about that.

I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders the way Derek had. One thing at a time. The only thing I had to worry about right now was Lydia. It was going to be one hell of a party.