My first ever sequel! AND we've reached my favorite season!
Again, this is the sequel to Part of the Pack. If you're just joining us on Crystal's adventures, it'd probably be a good idea to read that first, simply because a) pack friends come up a LOT, b) the wolf whistle, and c) Peter Hale has a heart.
This work is rated M for human sacrifices, language, violence, and explicit death threats.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize does not belong to me. I'm simply borrowing. I'll return the characters, I promise.
She'd lost count of the days. The Alphas had kept them weak, practically starving. She hadn't felt the full power of the moon in forever.
Where are you?
She thought Derek would have found them by now. They were still in Beacon Hills, after all, and Beacon Hills wasn't a very big town. He should have found them already. He should have saved them.
Derek never really cared about them. Scott told her that she and Boyd and Isaac were just means to an end, a way for Derek to get more power. Derek hadn't denied it. But Derek had saved her, and he'd tried to warn her and Boyd about the hunters in his own way. It was their fault they hadn't listened.
The only person he really seemed to care about was Crystal. And Crystal cared about them. Crystal had tried to call them before they were moved to the vault, had left messages that grew more and more worried. She knew because the Alphas had played them, mocking Crystal as the female crushed the phone under her clawed foot. Glowing red eyes just dared the Betas to try something.
Boyd had almost gotten himself killed that day.
So, yes, Derek should have come for them by now. If only for Crystal's sake.
"What do you think will happen to us during the lunar eclipse?"
Boyd shrugged silently. He didn't say much anymore.
"They can last for hours, you know, because it's just the Earth's shadow. I wonder what'll happen to us. Maybe it'll make us stronger." Her head lolled toward the vault door. The bitch Alpha paused in the doorway and glanced back. Red eyes laughed at her. Her rage grew.
"I hope it makes us stronger." Strength surged through her as she pushed herself to her feet. Her senses sharpened. She could smell sweat and tears. She could feel their fear. She could smell the bitch's glee, felt the disdain wafting toward her. And she caught a faint scent she hadn't smelled in months.
The night woods after it rained.
She could smell Crystal Braddock.
Her fury reached its peak. They had been near Crystal, been close enough to kill her. They could never get that close to her again.
The wolf inside her howled.
"Erica, no!" three voices cried. She ignored them, throwing herself at the Alpha, her fangs and claws erupting.
The bitch laughed, catching her by the throat. She screamed as a clawed hand ripped her chest open again and again, but the scream never left her throat. So much pain. So much blood.
And then there was no pain. She was dimly aware of being thrown to the ground. Black danced at the edges of her vision and closed in. Her friends stared at her, horrified.
"Boyd," she gargled. Or maybe she thought it. "Crystal."
For some reason, she didn't even question Crystal being there. The older girl knelt beside her, turning her to see the damage with eyes more gold than green.
"Oh my God, Erica." Tears burned as they fell into open wounds. "Stay with me, okay? Please, Erica, stay with me."
Her voice echoed weirdly. Was that Boyd?
Erica's eyes slid closed as she lost the will to keep them open. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
Thump-thump. Thump. Thump.
"Stay with me, Erica," Crystal demanded.
"I can't," she breathed. She just wanted it to be over. She was dying. There was nothing anyone could do about it.
At least I'm free.
Something tightened its grip on her. She couldn't escape its shackles if she wanted to. But she didn't.
Because it was Crystal. Crystal, who'd already lost her entire family. Who stood between a furious Alpha and her friends more than once. Who made sure she, Boyd and Isaac were taken care of after the kanima attacks.
Crystal, who would defy the devil himself if he tried to steal her pack from her.
"You stay with me."
She was so tired, but she couldn't refuse Crystal. "All right," she whispered. I'll stay with you.
"You look horrible."
Crystal peeled her eyes open just enough to shoot a weak glare at the werewolf in the driver's seat. "Wow, Peter. Thanks. That's just what a girl wants to hear."
She flinched when his hand brushed her forehead.
"God, you're freezing," he muttered. "Does Melissa know about this?"
"Dunno," she told him. "She's been working more lately, and I've been with you all weekend. So unless you called her or Scott…."
Peter growled softly. "I'm taking you to the hospital."
"No, Peter, I'm fine," she protested.
"It's been two days, Crystal!"
"And I'm feeling a lot better." She straightened in her seat, careful to keep the pain off her face.
But she couldn't fool the werewolf who'd known her practically her entire life. He held out his hand, palm up. "Give me your hand."
"I'm fine!" But his eyes flashed icy blue, so she huffed and put her hand in his. She sighed in relief as her full body ache eased.
Peter hissed through his teeth. "Don't lie to me."
"I can't lie to you," she retorted, pulling her hand free. "Look, if I still feel like shit tomorrow morning, I'll go to the hospital, okay?"
As she had every intention of keeping that promise, her heartbeat remained steady. Peter still sent her a disbelieving look.
She rolled her eyes but slouched in her seat, still exhausted. "Can we just go home?"
"Why, yes, we can go back to my apartment."
She snorted. "Hey, I'm not the one who told you to forge your death certificate."
Peter's ability as a chess master was legendary. He was capable of moving pieces (and people) where he wanted them to go long before his opponent realized they were being manipulated. He built backup plans into his backup plans. That meant he was very rarely blindsided, but when he was, it was huge.
He'd managed to screw himself about six months ago, when he'd had his nurse forge a death certificate for him after his miraculous recovery. That meant his will went into effect. The sole beneficiary? Crystal Braddock.
Luckily for both of them, Crystal was unwilling to touch a dime of Peter's mass fortune. She reluctantly took possession of his car and his downtown apartment－neither of which she needed, but Peter did, and until the death certificate was overturned, he couldn't sign the checks.
Thanks to Taylor Robinson and a judge who happened to know about werewolves, as of five hours ago, Peter Hale was officially among the land of the living once more. Now they could start transferring everything back to Peter's accounts. Just thinking about the red tape they'd have to slice through made Crystal's head hurt.
Peter slowed to allow a familiar blue Jeep to slide in front of him. Crystal brightened. "Oh, Scott told me he was getting his tattoo today."
"Did you tell him the tattoo would heal?"
Like Peter, Scott McCall was a werewolf. Unlike Peter, Scott hadn't been a werewolf for very long. Which meant he sometimes forgot about certain werewolf abilities.
And apparently, so did Crystal. She blinked dumbly at Peter's raised eyebrow. "Um...no?"
Peter huffed. "Between the three of you, I'm surprised nobody figured out that werewolf healing would defeat the purpose of getting a tattoo."
"But Derek has a tattoo."
"Derek had to get his tattoo burned into his skin," Peter corrected with a grimace. "It's the only way to keep it from healing."
Crystal shuddered. Why would anyone want to be burned like that? "Scott's not gonna be happy."
She pulled her phone out and called Scott.
"Hey, Crystal." Her foster brother put her on speaker. "How'd it go with the judge?"
"Good. Peter's alive again."
"Well, yeah, we already knew that," Stiles Stilinski told her. "Unless he pissed Derek off enough and Derek ripped his throat out over the weekend."
She chuckled. "I meant legally."
"Awww," Stiles whined. "Does that mean you have to give back your inheritance money?"
Peter growled. "It's not her money."
"Not yet," she agreed. Not ever, if she had anything to say about it. "It's Peter's money. Um, Scott, speaking of money. Peter says you getting a tattoo from a normal tattoo artist－"
"Is a complete waste of everyone's time and money?"
"Won't work?"
She winced. "So it's already healed."
"Yeah, it healed pretty much as soon as we got in the Jeep," Stiles said.
"At least it didn't heal in front of the tattoo artist," she said optimistically. "That would have been hard to explain."
"And dangerous," Peter muttered.
"Yeah, Derek and Chris would not be happy with you."
"You're still talking to Argent?" Scott wondered.
"Yeah," she told him carefully. "You...you haven't called Allison yet?"
"Oh, my God," Peter muttered, slamming on the brakes a little harder than necessary. Crystal snickered as the car jerked forward and rolled back.
"No," Scott was saying. "We agreed to give each other the summer. No texts, no calls."
"Scott, you have to talk to her eventually. Classes start tomorrow."
"After everything that's happened, I don't think she's coming back at all." Scott's sigh was too loud. She winced and then flinched as a warm hand gripped hers again, draining the pain.
Peter's blue eyes glowed in the darkness. She couldn't see his face, but she could feel his scowl. And she knew there was no getting out of a hospital visit.
"Oh, I'd say she is." Stiles's voice sounded strange. "Pretty definitely. Like, a hundred percent."
"Wha－" Scott went silent.
"Scott? Stiles?"
"Um, so, we're at a red light, and you'll never guess who's in the car next to us," Stiles told her.
"Lydia and Allison."
"Lydia a－wait, what? How did you－"
"Oh, my God," Scott gasped. "Oh my God, I can't－"
"Scott?"
"She saw me!" he hissed. "Oh God, can we－"
Crystal burst out laughing, picturing her brother's horrified face.
Peter unrolled his window. "It sounds like Scott's not the only teenager having a post-breakup meltdown."
"Wh－are you behind us?"
"Oh my God," Crystal cackled. This was too good. "I wish I could record this."
"I'm glad this is funny to you," Scott snapped. "Stiles, please, just drive!"
"Dude, it's a red light," Stiles protested.
"Safety first, Scott," Peter added, sending Crystal into another fit of laughter.
"Come on. I think we should talk to her." Stiles's voice grew louder.
"Stiles!"
"I just think we should say something."
"I am so glad I never told you she was coming back," Crystal said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
"You are a horrible sister," Scott muttered.
"Heeey!" Stiles sang.
Crystal startled at the high-pitched squeal as Lydia ran the light.
"Huh. You know, they probably didn't see us."
"I doubt that," Crystal told them as the light turned green.
"Hey, I'm trying to be optimistic here!"
"Crystal, we'll talk to you later." Scott hung up before she could say anything else.
Crystal grinned at Peter's deadpan look. "What? Oh, come on. You have to admit that was funny."
"Stiles, what are you doing?"
Stiles shot his best friend a look. "I'm driving."
Scott gestured frantically to the car in front of them. "We're right behind them."
"And Crystal's right behind us," he retorted. "All of us in a nice little single file line playing follow the leader until we get home."
"I just don't want it to look like we're following them."
Stiles sighed in frustration. Sometimes his best friend could be a real idiot. "What do you want me to do?"
"I dunno－anything!"
With an incredulous look, Stiles did the first thing he thought of. If Scott wanted him to stop following Lydia and Allison, then he'd just stop the car.
In the middle of the road. At night. With Crystal in the car right behind him.
She blared the horn. Thankfully, she was going slow enough that she didn't end up slamming right into the back of his Jeep. She skirted around them in a car that definitely wasn't hers and Oh my God, he heard Peter on the phone too; Peter was driving and Crystal was in the passenger seat. Oh, that was not good. He could practically feel the ex-Alpha's dark glare even though he was in front of Stiles.
He let out a sharp hiss between his teeth. "Peter's driving."
Scott sighed. "At least they're between us and Allison."
"What. The hell. Was that?"
"Stiles's lack of impulse control?" Crystal offered weakly. "He's brilliant, but he doesn't always think things through."
"And what is Miss Martin's excuse?" Peter asked frostily, glaring through the windshield. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
She glanced forward to see what had pissed him off this time. Lydia had slowed down and stopped in the middle of the road, too.
"I...honestly, I have no idea."
Peter danced around Lydia's car. Crystal craned her neck to watch the silent standoff. Nobody was getting out of the cars behind them. She just hoped the road stayed empty.
She frowned when Peter rolled down both windows. "Come on, I－"
Peter slammed on the brakes, much like Stiles did a minute ago. He yanked off his seatbelt. "Get out."
She blinked. Wha－?
She was barely aware of the claws slicing through her seatbelt before something banged outside. Then she was flying through the air, completely weightless. She blinked against the sudden wind. A loud crash from behind made her jump with a surprised scream.
She wasn't in the car anymore. Her head spinning, she tried to catch her breath as her brain worked to piece together what just happened.
Door on the asphalt. Car missing a door, angled, closer to Lydia's car than it had been. Dark liquid. Glass. Twisted body in the middle of the windshield. Antlers where she and Peter had been moments before. She and Peter were on the side of the road and he was holding her steady. Her wrists ached like someone had grabbed them too hard.
Car doors slammed, making her jump again. But it was only her friends.
"Crystal!" four voices cried.
Scott was the first to reach her. "Are you all right?"
She blinked at him. "Y－yeah, I－we－" She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I didn't even see the deer. Peter, he－"
"We saw," Scott whispered. He reached for her as Peter stepped back, still close enough to keep his eyes on them. She sank into her brother's arms, trembling.
If Peter hadn't pulled her out of the car, the deer would have impaled them. Its antlers were huge. And even if they'd managed to avoid the antlers, they would still have been cut with thick shards of glass. They could have died.
"What the hell happened?" Lydia's shrill pitch made her, Peter and Scott flinch. "What kind of deer runs right into a car like that?"
"I dunno, Lydia." Crystal took a deep breath and leaned her aching head on Scott's chest. "Maybe it was crazy."
"What, like it was rabid?" Stiles asked. "Can deer even get rabies?"
"Yes," Lydia said promptly. "It's incredibly rare, but deer have been known to contract rabies."
"I don't think it was rabies," Scott said slowly. "I think it was scared." But he wasn't looking at the deer; he was looking at Peter. Stiles and Allison turned to look at the older werewolf, too. Lydia purposefully kept behind Allison, farthest away from him.
Crystal rubbed her aching wrists. "Lydia, do you have your first-aid kit?" she asked softly. After one too many training accidents, she, Stiles and Lydia had decided it would be prudent to stash a first-aid kit in each of their cars.
"Yeah." Lydia frowned at Crystal's wrists before she dashed to her car.
Crystal pushed away from Scott, hoping she could stand on her own two feet. Thankfully, the exhaustion that plagued her for the last two days seemed to have faded, though her entire body was still sore.
"So the...the deer came right down the road, and Peter pulled me out," she said, hoping to distract the others. Scott drifted closer to the wreck.
"Dude. Crystal, you guys flew out of the car," Stiles told her, waving his arms. "We didn't even see you. The door came off, and the deer plowed right through the windshield. I thought you were still inside."
Damn. She knew Peter could move fast, but she hadn't realized he could move that fast.
She frowned as she realized Stiles was more jittery than usual. "Hey, Stiles." She grabbed one of his hands. He gripped it tightly. "I'm okay. We're okay."
He sucked in a deep breath and nearly choked on it when Peter said, "Well, you'll be okay once you go to the hospital."
"Peter," she hissed, glaring daggers. Peter raised his eyebrows in challenge.
"Hospital?" Stiles yelped.
"Why would you have to go to the hospital?" Allison asked, running her eyes over Crystal.
"I called the police. They should be here soon." Lydia handed Allison the first-aid kit and pulled out a roll of bandages and alcohol wipes. She snapped the lid shut with a little too much force. "Did Peter break your wrist?"
Congratulations, Peter. Make them freak out. She channeled her thoughts through her wolf whistle necklace, a gift from the Hales that marked her as pack friend.
Peter merely scoffed. "Crystal says you're brilliant, but you obviously have a short memory."
"No, Peter did not break my wrist," Crystal said firmly before a fight could break out. The last time she got hurt, Peter almost choked Allison and, two weeks later during training, Scott had given him a black eye and several bruised ribs. Which Crystal didn't find out about until after graduation. "They're just a little sore, probably bruised. Peter is just overreacting."
Lydia hummed in disbelief as she turned her flashlight app. "Hold this."
Stiles fumbled to catch the phone while Lydia examined Crystal's wrist.
"Peter? Overreacting?" Scott asked as he came back over.
"I'll admit, the Hales take the phrase 'drama queen' to a whole new level," Stiles chimed in.
"Werewolves," Crystal muttered, recalling Scott's freak-out earlier.
"But I'm pretty sure Peter Hale would avoid hospitals like the plague. Like a wolfsbane-laced, Kate-Argent-infected plague. So if he says you need to get your ass to the hospital, I'm pretty sure that means you need to get your ass to the hospital."
Crystal growled, then hissed sharply as Lydia ran an alcohol pad over her skin. Lydia glanced sideways, eyes wide.
"Cold," Crystal whispered. "Just cold."
Peter must have accidentally pricked her wrists with his claws, because there were faint cuts that stung from the alcohol. But no blood. Scott and Peter would have smelled blood.
"Look, I just haven't been feeling well the last couple days," she explained as Lydia wrapped her wrist and cautiously reached for the other one. "It's probably just the flu or something. If I still feel horrible tomorrow, I'll go to the hospital. Peter already made me promise."
Stiles and Scott frowned. "You don't get sick," they pointed out.
"Not often." She perked up when she heard sirens in the distance.
"Not for more than a day," Peter said.
"Well, I don't think you'll be able to avoid a trip to the hospital." Allison pointed in the direction of the sirens. "They're gonna want to check both of you over."
Crystal groaned. She didn't have to look behind her to see Peter's smirk. He might insist she get looked over, but Hell would freeze over before he did the same. "But Peter wasn't in the car."
"That's right. I got out to let four self-absorbed teenagers know that it's incredibly dangerous to park in the middle of the street, even an empty one."
"Wha－but you stopped in the middle of the street, too!" Stiles argued.
Crystal snorted. Only Stiles would be willing to argue with Peter in the middle of a dark street after a deer ran headlong into the werewolf's car.
Lydia handed the alcohol wipes and bandages to Scott. "Come on, Stiles. We have to move our cars before the cops think we were the ones who got in an accident."
Allison was right. Crystal was examined and almost immediately the paramedics were talking about taking her to the hospital. Something about severe malnutrition and dehydration and mild hypothermia.
"I'm fine," she argued for perhaps the hundredth time that night. But seeing Scott's anxious frown and Stiles chewing on his thumbnail, and with Chris Argent hovering beside his daughter close enough to overhear everything (when the hell did he get here?), she finally relented. She was supposed to be an adult. "Fine. If I let them take me to the hospital, will you guys go straight home and get some sleep? You have school tomorrow."
She doubted they'd get any sleep. Stiles would probably throw himself into research and Scott would either pace around the empty house or show up at the hospital in the next few hours. But, hey, at least she tried.
"We promise we'll go straight home." Scott nudged Stiles when the pale boy was about to protest.
"I'll call you. Or, knowing Melissa, she'll call you guys as soon as she knows what's going on." With a wave to her brother and her friends, she climbed into the back of the ambulance and allowed them to hook her up to an IV drip.
Drawing the blanket around her, she lay back on the stretcher and ignored the pounding in her head. She painted a mental picture of Peter and soon he appeared in the back of the ambulance. She was the only one who could see him－another perk of her special necklace. I'll talk to you later.
I don't like having to play nursemaid for you, he growled, even as he continued his conversation with a deputy she couldn't see. It had taken them over a month to figure out how to split their attention like that. It still wasn't easy. Let Derek know what's going on.
He's your nephew.
He's your boyfriend.
She almost dropped the link in shock. What the hell, Peter?!
Get some sleep, Crystal. His lips twisted in a faint smile. She couldn't tell what he was thinking.
"Miss Braddock, are you all right?"
She sighed, dropping the link. "Yeah. Just wondering how I'll explain all this to Melissa."
She answered the paramedics' questions as best she could, her mind still spinning. Why the hell would Peter say something like that? She expected that kind of comeback from Scott or Stiles, or even Isaac Lahey, Derek's only remaining Beta. They were still making fun of her for stealing Derek's leather jacket. But Peter?
Peter was incredibly protective of her. Crystal liked to call him her father, brother, and uncle all rolled into one. And he found pretty much everyone else either too annoying or too stupid to be around for very long. Which meant if she ever did start dating someone, they'd have to get Peter Hale's seal of approval.
(Getting Peter's approval would be hard enough. If her dad were still alive, the odds of her dating before she was thirty would be astronomical.)
So why the hell would Peter, who almost threw her to the wolves for talking about a crush with her best friend when she was thirteen, start cracking jokes about her dating his nephew?
Sure, Derek was hot. She'd seen his abs before; Michelangelo couldn't have carved better. And a small part of her wanted to trace the triskele tattoo on his back－just to see if he was ticklish. And, fine, she had to admit he smelled good. (That was not why she stole his leather jacket, no matter what Stiles said.)
But with her being a Hale pack friend, he was almost as protective of her as Peter was. And they'd only gotten worse over the summer. Peter had never been the kind of person to check on her every two hours, but now he found excuses to check up on her whenever he could. Derek had all but ordered her to stay close to him or one of the other werewolves. Something was wrong; they just wouldn't tell her what. It was really annoying when they practically stayed glued to her side for the last few months and refused to tell her why.
It had to have something to do with Erica and Boyd. She'd left Boyd at least a dozen messages, all of which went unanswered before the phone got disconnected. Their parents had put posters up all over town, and Sheriff Stilinski had even brought her in for questioning. But Derek assured her it was nothing to worry about. Erica and Boyd were fine, probably found a new pack by now.
"Most werewolf packs make new members cut ties with their old lives," he'd added before abruptly changing the subject.
So, yeah, Derek Hale was currently not on her list of possible boyfriends. Which was good for her; she had too much to deal with. She didn't need to add a love life on top of it. Scott's love life was crazy enough.
She would have to let Derek know what was going on. He was her assigned guard dog tomorrow; he'd tear Beacon Hills apart looking for her if she disappeared. But that could wait until after she called Scott and Peter.
Sometimes being pack friend to a bunch of werewolves was a real pain.
"Derek."
Derek glanced over and hopped to his feet mid-pushup. "What happened?"
Crystal sighed. She was lying about three feet off the ground, dressed in a hospital gown with a blanket tucked around her and an IV attached to her hand. She was paler than she should have been. "Mild hypothermia, dehydration, malnutrition. Melissa says I need to at least stay overnight, even though I have none of the typical hypothermia symptoms."
Derek raised a black eyebrow. "None?"
She scowled. "Okay, maybe one or two. My temp's barely ninety-four, I'm tired, and Melissa says I'm pale enough to pass for Casper's twin. But I recited the alphabet backward and forward while signing, I took the lid off a water bottle without spilling it, and I'm able to hold this connection. So I don't really know how it can be hypothermia."
"Do Scott and Stiles know?" Knowing Peter, he already knew Crystal was in the hospital.
"Yeah. They know. Hey, what would make a deer charge straight down the road right into a car?"
"A deer," he repeated carefully, wiping the sweat from his face. "Crashed into your car."
"Oh, God, no." She shivered. "Peter's car. He got me out before it hit us."
A deer ran straight down the road into a car with a werewolf inside. He clenched his fists tightly and turned so she couldn't see his face.
"Derek?"
That meant the Alphas had been right there. Only an Alpha would terrify an animal like that. And only a member of the Alpha pack would drive it toward a place with people. They wanted to get someone killed.
They wanted to get Crystal killed.
Unacceptable, he snarled. Pack friends were off limits. Crystal was off limits.
"Peter got me out before the deer hit us," she repeated gently. "I'm fine."
Derek yanked his shirt on and was beside her in two steps. His eyes narrowed at the bandages on her wrists.
Irritated, she yanked her hand free. "Derek, the deer?"
"I don't know, Crystal. It probably got spooked by a mountain lion," he lied.
The look on her face said she wasn't buying it. "Deer tend to stick by the woods, and I've only seen one mountain lion come close to the town in my entire life. That was when Peter was the Alpha－"
Goddamnit. Crystal wasn't stupid. She could hold her own against Peter in chess, and given enough clues, he was sure she could solve any puzzle. He could see her putting the pieces together now. Her mouth tightened. Her gold-and-green eyes blazed with fury.
"There's an Alpha in Beacon Hills. That's why you and Peter have been acting so weird." He didn't deny it. Green melted to gold. "How long, Derek? How long have you known another Alpha was here?"
He sighed. "Crystal－"
"How long, Derek?"
"About four months. And it's not just one Alpha. It's a pack of them."
Her nostrils flared angrily. She glanced behind him.
Melissa's here. We'll talk about this later.
And before he had a chance to respond, she disappeared.
"Great," he muttered, stomping to the shower. After four months of keeping her out of it, he blew it with one stupid comment. She wasn't going to let it go. She'd insist on helping find Erica and Boyd－
"Aw, fuck."
She was gonna find out about Erica and Boyd. She was already pissed; he couldn't imagine her reaction when she found out her friends were being held by the Alpha pack.
"Did you talk to Crystal last night?"
"Yeah. She stayed overnight but she says she's gonna check herself out this afternoon," Scott said, dropping his helmet in his locker. "She was gonna call Derek for a ride, but she left me a message saying we need to pick her up after school."
Stiles blinked. "Why would she say she was going with Derek, and then change her mind? Aren't those two, like, joined at the hip now?"
Scott shrugged. "I'm not sure, but…." He pulled out his cell phone and let Stiles listen to the message.
"Hey, Scott, it's me." Her words tumbled out abruptly. "Change of plans. I need you or Stiles to pick me up after school. I know I said I'd call Derek, but－" Her huff told them what she could not. Stiles's eyes grew huge. "Anyway," she continued cheerfully. "I'll see you tomorrow. Love you, bye!"
"Dude," Stiles said finally, handing the phone back. "What the hell did Sourwolf do to piss her off that bad?"
Scott shrugged as they headed to their first class. "I dunno. I can ask him later, if you want."
"I want. Anything that makes your sister that mad can't be good for the rest of us." Stiles frowned, rewinding the conversation. "Why are you going to see Derek?"
Scott shrugged. "I need to see if he can help me with my tattoo."
"You wanna ask Derek for help? Why?"
"He's got that triskele tattoo on his back. So there has to be a way to keep it from healing, right?"
"Okay. Yeah. But doesn't he have his hands full?" Stiles gestured to the missing posters on the bulletin board outside the office.
Scott frowned at Erica and Boyd's pictures. He hoped they called Crystal soon; his sister didn't say anything, but he knew she was freaking out over their prolonged silence.
"Besides," Stiles continued. "I don't know about you, but I don't wanna get caught between him and Crystal."
It might be a bit late for that. Scott opened his mouth to say as much, but he was cut off by their principal's loud voice from the office.
"These are the applications for the career advisor－I want them sorted. And whatever happened to the library while I was gone, it needs to be cleaned up."
The library still hadn't been fixed? "Wow, Gerard was a horrible principal," he muttered.
"Uh, yeah, Scotty. He tried to kill us all. And he gave me and Crystal detention! With Harris!"
A drawer slid open. "And what the hell is this?!"
They peeked around the door to see the principal holding a shiny broadsword. Scott shivered. Of course Gerard had kept that monstrosity close by.
He glanced at Stiles, whose eyes were probably as wide as his, and together they made a break for it.
"Crystal."
She groaned. "What?" Peeling her eyes open, it took her a minute to register Melissa McCall's worried frown. "What's wrong?"
"Isaac came in last night with claw marks all over him. They're healing, but he's scheduled for surgery in about forty-five minutes and I haven't been able to get hold of Derek."
"Wait, Isaac－" She shook her head. "Okay. We need to get Isaac out of here. I nee－" She yawned as she pushed herself upright.
Melissa helped her rearrange her pillows. "You need about another eight hours of sleep. Unfortunately, we don't have time for that right now."
"Oh, believe me." She yawned again. "As soon as I'm out of here, I'm gonna get breakfast and then take a nap." Wait. No, she couldn't. She had to wait for Scott or Stiles to pick her up, and school had only just started.
Melissa chuckled weakly. "Sounds good."
Crystal traced her fingers over the pendant. She really didn't want to talk to Derek right now. "Could I check Isaac out?"
A thought that sounded like her mother sighed. You have to talk to him sooner or later.
She hated when the voices in her head made sense.
Melissa shook her head. "No, you're not listed as his legal guardian. Plus, there's a deputy guarding his room."
"A deputy? What did he do?"
"Well, the girl he was with drove her motorcycle straight into a warehouse and demolished about half of it."
A girl? Crystal shook her head again. Not important right now. "Okay. If Derek's not here in half an hour, I'll take Isaac to the basement or something." The deputy would pose a problem, so she really hoped Derek got his ass to the hospital sooner rather than later.
Closing her eyes, she pictured Derek's short black hair (Stiles had a very similar haircut, now that she thought about it); his light green eyes; the dark stubble on his face that wasn't quite a beard but did wonders for his jawline; his stubborn frown that very rarely turned into a true smile anymore. In fact, she hadn't seen him really smile in months.
"Did it work?" Melissa finally asked.
She opened her eyes and squeaked. Derek sprawled beside her on a bed she couldn't see, his face more relaxed than she'd seen in...ever. At least since he came back to Beacon Hills. She had to fight the urge to lean over and kiss his cheek.
Why? She whined softly. Derek twitched at the sound. Why couldn't Stiles and Peter and Scott and Isaac have just left it alone? She was perfectly fine before－
"I think I know why you haven't been able to reach him."
Derek's eyes popped open before the first word left her mouth. "Crystal." He sat bolt upright, the thin sheet sliding down his bare chest, a wary look in his eye.
Melissa gasped, one hand covering her mouth so Crystal wouldn't see her smile. "Oh, God, is he－"
"He was asleep!" Crystal squealed, flushing as she fought to keep her mind from the gutter. She called Derek for a reason, and it was not so she could－
Seeing Derek's eyebrows rise, she cleared her throat. "You need to get to the hospital so we can get Isaac out. He's scheduled for surgery in about forty minutes."
Derek didn't waste time. Crystal covered her eyes as he threw the blanket off. "Why is he in the hospital?"
I don't know. I haven't seen him yet. Melissa just said something about scratches that are healing slowly.
"Scratches or claw marks?"
"Melissa, how bad did Isaac look last night?" she asked. "Did he say what happened?"
"He was pretty banged up. He doesn't remember a whole lot, just that he and the girl he was with were attacked."
Alpha attack. He's still healing. He doesn't remember much, she relayed. But the police are watching his room.
"You can open your eyes." Derek sounded far too amused for her liking. She dropped her hand and opened her eyes a crack. "I'm on my way."
"We'll be here." She dropped the link and glanced at Melissa. "He's on his way."
Melissa sighed in relief. "That's good. I was afraid I was gonna have to call Scott."
"I'll call him later." She waved the hand with the IV carefully. "While we're waiting for Derek, I'm gonna go visit Isaac."
Stiles wasn't sure exactly how he noticed it. It wasn't that noticeable. But Stiles had always been good at finding things other people overlooked. And, okay, yes, depending on who you asked he was either incredibly persistent or incredibly reckless. But once his mind got caught up with something, he couldn't let it go.
Like the deer from last night. He'd been up almost all night researching things like deer behavior and prey mentality and accidents involving deer, and nowhere in all of his online searches could he find an explanation for what happened last night.
So when he noticed the slight discoloration of Lydia's ankle, he zeroed in on it. It took him less than a second to realize it was a bandage.
He hissed to grab her attention. "Hey, Lydia."
She pursed her lips but turned her beautiful green eyes－they weren't pale like Derek's but not as dark as the green in Crystal's－on him. He was still amazed she even acknowledged him after so many years of being nothing but background noise to her. But between everything that happened over the last few months and her burgeoning friendship with Crystal while Allison was in France, they'd been hanging around each other more. So it only made sense she actually spoke to him every once in a while. He'd even go so far as to say they were friends.
"What, Stiles?"
"What's that?" He pointed to the bandage on her calf. "Is that from last night?"
"No," Lydia whispered, turning back to her assignment. "Prada bit me."
"Your dog?" If Lydia's dog was acting weird, too, then maybe－
"No, my designer handbag."
Stiles shot her a look he wouldn't have three months ago. He was all for sarcastic remarks and witty comebacks, but this was serious. Something was wrong in Beacon Hills.
Then again, lately it seemed like there was always something wrong in Beacon Hills.
Lydia gave him the You are an absolute moron look, a look he was quite used to seeing from Crystal (and, more recently, Derek). "Yes, my dog."
"Has Prada ever bitten you before?"
Lydia hesitated, then shook her head.
That just gave credence to his theory. "What if it's, like, the same thing as the deer? Like how animals start acting weird right before an earthquake or something, you know?"
She cocked an eyebrow. "You think there's gonna be an earthquake?"
"Or something." Stiles leaned closer, careful not to fall out of his desk. "I think it means something bad is coming."
Or maybe that something bad was already here.
"It was a deer and a dog." Lydia got a distant look in her eye. "What's that thing you say about threes? Once...twice…."
Once is an incident. Twice is a coincidence. Three times－
Everyone jumped as something hit the window. Stiles's eyes widened at the blood left behind. His heart pounding rapidly, he chanced a glance at Scott on his other side.
Scott had leaped out of his seat, eyes wide with dread. "Oh, no."
The black wave cawed so loudly they could hear it through the thick glass. Another bird, either a crow or a raven, slammed into the window. Then another.
Three times is a pattern.
"Get down!" Scott cried.
Stiles had become used to not questioning werewolves when things went south. So he dropped from his seat, scrambling to Lydia's side. She was closest to the window. If the birds got through, she could get hit by flying glass. Or the birds would go after her first.
Last night, he'd almost had a panic attack when the deer plowed into Peter's car. Thankfully the psycho zombie-wolf had enough of a heart and was fast enough to pull Crystal out before she could get hurt, but for a split second, Stiles thought his friend－his sister, if he was being honest, because Scott was his brother and she was Scott's sister－was dead.
Stiles wasn't as fast as a werewolf, or as strong as one, but he'd do his damndest to make sure Lydia Martin walked away from all this supernatural craziness unharmed. And of course it was supernatural, because it was Beacon Hills, and Beacon Hills was a magnet for All Things Weird.
The birds smashed through the window.
Alternate name for this chapter could be "Internal Monologues I Can't Apologize For" (And thanks to Adelaide Kane, I got to sneak a Reign reference in here too.)
Thanks for reading!