Disclaimer: Teen wolf does not belong to me in any way shape or form.
Sitting at the hospital all day was making her antsy. Left to make small talk and twiddle her thumbs as she watched the clock move agonisingly slowly.
By the time lunch rolled around, she was going stir-crazy. Unable to sit still for longer than ten seconds at a time. Combined with the fact her phone had long since died, she opted to try and burn off some energy by pacing up and down the length of the corridor.
The nurses seemed annoyed but chose not to say anything after she shot them down with a swift glare. In her defence, it helped her get her steps in and was about the only thing keeping her somewhat in control.
Due to their minimal amount of sleep, Stiles ended up dozing awkwardly on the chair, his neck at an incredibly awkward angle which he would definitely pay for when he woke up, but for now he was resting so she left him in peace.
She could play it off well, but she was stressed.
Stressed about Lydia. Stressed about Derek. Stressed about herself and whatever could be happening to her. Stressed that things were not going to work in their favour.
People said she was a pessimist, but her whole life had been one insane rollercoaster that kept flinging shit in her eyes, why would her life bother to improve now?
She passed a noticeboard on the wall for about the five thousandth time that day, letting her eyes wander across the hundreds of leaflets and posters that littered it. Everything from alcohol and drug dependence meetings and support groups to encouraging safe sex, reporting domestic abuse and getting mental health support.
It was basically a memo board of her entire teenage years.
She wasn't a fan of meetings for addiction. To simplify things, she called herself an addict, but she didn't really feel like she was. She had used drugs and alcohol for fun countless times – it was only when her life got turned upside down did she use it to dull the pain. A crutch, if you will. Coming off it was hard because she didn't want to feel her grief.
Her keyworker at rehab said that was still a form of dependence and "an unhealthy coping mechanism", but whatever right?
There were leaflets of all the times and places of different meetings around Beacon Hills, so on a whim decided to take one and slip it into her pocket.
A just in case.
A more emotionally mature her would be proud.
It got her thinking about how seriously derailed her life got. How off course she became for an entire year – a year that still half of it was a blur. Yet she remembered the night she decided to say 'fuck everything' as if it were yesterday.
She was sitting cross-legged on her bed after her dad and brothers' funerals. Everyone had long since left, three tables worth of food downstairs probably going bad as there was too much to fit in the freezer. Derek and Laura had stayed for a short time before disappearing, and her Aunt Jane had taken Tabby out for the evening, as too many guests and grief was confusing for her – she was only four, after all.
Most of the time that would have been fine. She didn't mind being alone. Sometimes she even preferred it. However, not today. Today she wanted company.
She heard her mom's sobs through the walls, forcing her to cover her ears with her hands to try and drown them out. They just got louder and louder to the point where it wasn't sobbing anymore – it was anguished screaming, scratching the inside of her brain.
She couldn't take it anymore.
She had stormed through to her mom's room, screaming at her to "just shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up" because she couldn't bear the sound. Her mom was curled up on her bed, a bottle of alcohol clasped in her hands, yelling that the wrong child died.
She knew it was true, but it was still like a knife to the heart.
Why was she bothering with this place anymore? With a mom that didn't care about her. Her mom was supposed to be the adult, the strong one, not the one curled up, locking herself in her room, leaving Kayla to do everything – cleaning, tidying, cooking, paying the bills, arranging the funeral, answering the door to people offering their sympathies.
So she left. She stormed from the house, her mom's wails chasing her out.
She needed a distraction from this life, something to take this hollow feeling away in her chest because it felt like someone had wrapped their fist around her heart and wouldn't stop squeezing.
With ease and a need to numb the pain, she pushed herself in amongst a group of excited college kids heading towards the club, flashing her fake ID that her friends had acquired for her just a few weeks previously.
The bouncer seemed to realise she wasn't twenty-one – after all, she was wearing minimal make-up, her long wavy tresses wild and untamed and had not long turned fifteen. Without dressing up or making an effort to appear older, she truly did look fifteen. He grunted something about "not being paid enough to care" and let her in.
As such, she drowned her sorrows. Sitting at the bar and requesting they leave the bottle. Drinks. Shots. Dancing with strangers. More drinks. More shots. Some kind of funky white pill that made her head spin and her entire body buzz with an exhilarated type of energy that she absolutely loved.
Falling, and falling hard.
She took some more shots, reaching out to grab another glass when someone slid up on the stool beside her.
She could tell straight away he was a dickhead, but she didn't care. Something about him exuding this kind of enticing energy. He was confident and hot, but full of danger. Any normal person would avoid him like the plague. She, however, wasn't normal. She didn't care if he was dangerous. She just cared if he was a distraction.
His eyes never left hers, watching her carefully. Appreciating the way she swallowed the straight alcohol without so much as a flinch.
"Can I help you?" she asked, her words slurring.
"You could start with letting me buy you a drink" Mr Broody forehead said, his ginger hair gelled up, a leather jacket thrown over a plain white shirt and dark jeans.
"I've got plenty".
"Then what's one more?"
She felt a kind of pull to him, an intense kind of attraction that made her bite her lip.
Dangerous boys were always so fun… maybe he would be fun too.
"So…" he grinned, leaning in close to her, "how about that drink?"
Before her mind had even caught up with her, she had thrown herself at him, their lips meeting quickly and with a frenzied passion.
He was the perfect distraction for her. He was exactly what she needed.
She didn't even care that she didn't even know who this guy was. Hell, she had only known him for all of twenty seconds, but her whole body was just screaming for her to feel something other than pain and grief, for something to take her mind off everything that had happened.
In a blind frenzy, they ended up in the back room of the club, the loud music barely drowned out. In a rush, she stripped him of his leather jacket all but ripped his tee off as his hands undressed her from the waist down.
She didn't resist. She didn't tell him no, or to slow down. She let him caress and appreciate her body because, for the first time in weeks, she felt her mind being a lot more alert, her body more motivated – maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the guy, but whatever it was, she wanted more of it.
His grip moved up her back, gripping at the skin as he yanked off her tank top and her hands worked at the belt buckle of his jeans in desperation, her movements slightly shaky as she tried to focus on the task at hand.
She wasn't a prude. Sex things weren't that big of a deal to her, but she was a virgin and a small part of her had kind of wanted to keep that for a little while longer but, in the moment, she gave it away. It was crass and a little painful, but in those minutes, she wasn't just some girl who had lost her family. She was feeling a new and different kind of pleasure.
She took out all her anger and grief on him, leaving him breathless and overwhelmed when it was done. Looking up at her in amazement.
"Now that I would definitely be up for again" the guy smirked, propping himself up on his elbows, a smug look plastered on his – dare she say it - very attractive face.
Kayla simply rolled her eyes but stumbled to her feet, her legs weak and shaky which he seemed to appreciate as he let out a triumphant noise, watching her from the floor as she drunkenly tried to find her clothes.
"Don't get cocky now" she warned as she stepped into her underwear and pulled them up, "that stumbling had nothing to do with your, no doubt, expertise in that field but, in case you hadn't noticed…I'm kind of drunk".
"You keep telling yourself that baby" he chuckled as she pulled her tank top over her head, shaking out her hair. "I would like to get to know you a bit better" he added, biting his lip as he stared at her up and down, admiring her body.
Whatever minimal conversation they were having was cut short as the door opened and in walked an identical copy of the guy she had just slept with, making her swivel her head between the two in confusion. Wondering if maybe the drugs were making her see things.
"Aiden, where the hell are-" the other guy cut himself off, staring at the scene in front of him in exasperation. "For god's sake Aiden put some pants on" he demanded, bending down and throwing over the discarded pair of jeans, "I didn't come here just so you could get laid"
Never mind… maybe they were twins.
"Chill Ethan… there's a bar more your style just down the road, don't worry" the Aiden guy replied as he stood up, rolling his eyes and zipping up his jeans.
"Well, this has been fun, but I gotta head" she mumbled, almost falling over as she pulled on her jeans.
"Not so fast" Aiden grinned, "What's your name?"
"Wow" his brother remarked sarcastically, "sleeping with a girl before you learn her name - how classy".
"Shut up" Aiden scoffed, "I wasn't talking to you".
"Kayla Hale".
For some reason, both brothers looked at her in surprise when she said that - as if she had just told them her deepest darkest secret.
"… What?" she asked, almost self-consciously, not at all comfortable with their reaction.
"H-Hale?" Aiden demanded, "you're a Hale?"
It took her longer than it should have to realise that, if they were having this kind of reaction to her name, then they weren't human themselves. Usually only the supernaturally inclined knew and were wary of her last name.
"Yeah, and?" she scoffed.
"Oh dude" Ethan winced, slapping his brother's arm, "you just got involved with a Hale. If Max finds out-"
"Max?" she laughed, "wow, big bad scary Max" she mocked, "how terrifying. Look, dickwads; I don't care that you're probably werewolves, I couldn't give a flying fuck actually, but I'm bored now. I need more drinks. So, move".
Aiden stepped in front of her, blocking her exit.
"Let's talk" he insisted, "because I think we could help each other out".
An incessant beeping noise pulled her from her daydream, looking around the corridor. The noise coming from some elderly woman's monitor a few rooms down.
It was weird how, that night, for whatever reason, the universe put Aiden and his brother in her path. Looking back, it was a kind of crazy coincidence – how, out of everyone there that she could have slept with, she unknowingly chose the damaged werewolf.
The damaged werewolf she hated, but also always had a pull to.
They were disastrous together but somehow kept ending up together. All because, one night, she said fuck it and chose a club he happened to be in.
A small part of her wondered how he was. Of course, she knew the answer to that. Since their time together, he and Ethan had killed their power-hungry Alpha and were off doing God knows what. She had seen a glimpse of his power that night they shared after her stint in rehab just a few short months ago. He was different – more confident and powerful but also more dangerous. She didn't allow herself to get pulled back into his web of lies, drama, and destruction. She knew, if she did, she would never get better.
It didn't stop her from not deleting his number, though – wondering when, and if, he would reach out again and wondering what she would say if he did.
Maybe she should have paid attention to these kind of leaflets on the noticeboard before.
She heard her name, glancing up to see a sleepy Stiles come to stand next to her.
"Hey, you okay?"
"Yeah. Just thinking".
"About what?" he asked, his arm winding around her waist.
"Aiden" she answered truthfully.
"Oh" he mumbled, "right. I mean, yeah. That's a totally normal thing to do… think about your ex".
"Not like that" she chuckled, nudging him playfully, "I just wonder what he's doing from time to time is all".
"Hopefully being six feet under".
"Harsh" she smirked.
"I hate the guy, what do you expect?'
"You've never met him".
"And I don't want to".
"Well, I doubt you ever will so relax" she laughed, "I don't even bother to reply to his texts".
"He-He still texts you?" Stiles spluttered in surprise.
"Occasionally. Probably when he's bored and looking for a hook-up" she shrugged, "but I learnt my lesson. If I don't text back, I don't get naked around him. Who knew it could be that easy to resist temptation".
Stiles seemed speechless, unsure how to respond to her for several seconds.
"Do you… do you want to get naked with him?" he asked, his voice a few pitches higher than usual.
"Naked with Aiden? Oh god no. Been there, done that, got the trauma to prove it".
"Oh… oh, good" Stiles sighed.
"I only want to get naked with you".
"W-With me?"
"Obviously" she smirked, "unless you're opposed to that idea?"
"Definitely not" he exclaimed, "you can get naked with me whenever you want".
"Good" she grinned, "because I happen to look incredibly good naked".
Stiles bit his lip, his eyes flitting down to look at her body. "I bet".
"Down boy" she laughed, briefly catching sight of two doctors making their way to Lydia's room.
She didn't know why, but something seemed off. Maybe it was their shiftiness, or the fact she had been here all weekend but hadn't seen them before, or because the classic white coats were thrown over casual clothes, but something seemed off.
She craned her neck, watching as the female glanced up and down the corridor and carefully opened the door for the tall man to enter.
"Who's that?"
Stiles followed her line of sight, still holding onto her waist.
"Doctors" he shrugged, "probably just checking on Lydia".
"They aren't Lydia's doctors" shook her head, "and why are there two of them?"
She didn't give him a chance to reply before walking off, heading straight for Lydia's room.
"Kaylz? Hey Kaylz, wait-"
She swung the door open just as the man was in the process of unplugging Lydia's monitors and the woman was holding Lydia's IV line in one hand, a syringe in the other. Both looking up as she entered.
Immediately, her eyes flared bright green – a warning to back the fuck away from her friend.
"Get the hell away from her" she demanded just as Stiles skidded up behind her, letting out a quiet "oh dear god" at the sight.
The man, who she now realised was easily about six foot four, pulled a knife from inside his jacket pocket and held it above Lydia's head.
"Turn around and walk away or else".
Between the knife and the injection, Lydia's fate almost seemed sealed unless she acted fast.
So she called their bluff, walking into the room.
"No" she snarled, "now don't make me tell you again".
It seemed something clicked in the woman's eyes when she saw her up close, the syringe lowering.
"You're that girl…" she muttered, contempt and venom in her voice, "you're that Hale girl".
The man turned his glare to her, complete and unrelenting fury in his gaze.
"You killed our son" he accused.
"I most certainly did not" she exclaimed in something close to offence before frowning, "uh… who's your son?"
"Brian" the woman muttered, "you're the one that killed him".
She involuntarily shivered at the name, feeling Stiles' anxiety and tenseness from behind her.
"What a wild – and completely untrue – accusation" she scoffed.
"You filthy murderer"
"I didn't kill your scumbag son" she stated, "I just wish I had".
The woman screeched, lurching for her with the syringe raised in her hand and she was forced to go on the offence, quickly grabbing her wrists before she could plunge the syringe – and whatever was in it – deep into her neck.
She yanked the woman sideways, slamming her hands into the wall several times until she yelled in pain, her fingers breaking and the syringe falling from her grip.
"Mary!" the man screamed, raising his knife, no doubt about to throw it directly at her head so she quickly bent down to grab the syringe and forcefully wrapped an arm around the woman's neck and held the syringe against her pulse point.
"Back off" she yelled, "or I inject whatever poison is in this into her goddamn neck".
The man faltered, his eyes briefly moving to look at Stiles, maybe seeing him as an easy target, so she simply tightened her hold on Mary, causing her to choke.
"You just lost your son… do you really want to lose your wife too?"
It took him a few seconds but he reluctantly placed the knife on Lydia's bed, his dark eyes like thunder.
"Good. Now back up" she encouraged, jutting her chin towards the door, indicating for him to leave.
"Not without Mary".
"Get out" she repeated, "and don't you dare come back. Lydia is innocent".
The woman she was slowly strangling managed to scoff, so Kayla figured her hold wasn't tight enough so increased her grip making her splutter in panic.
"Innocent" the man scoffed, "Like you are? Look at your eyes. You're an abomination too, and now that girl will no longer be a girl – she'll be amonster…"
Maybe she was an abomination – she could accept that – but Lydia wasn't. She was one of her best friends and she did not deserve this.
"Lydia is not a monster… and she's not going to be a monster… and you're certainly not going to kill her" she snarled, "and if you come back here, this abomination will gut you like a fish".
The woman, who she now knew as Mary, was turning an uncanny shade of blue so she loosened her grip, allowing her to gasp back some much-needed air.
"We're not going to stop until she's dead" Mary growled, "until you're all dead".
"Big words from someone who is only breathing because I'm allowing it".
The man, whose name she still didn't know, finally did as she asked, moving towards the door and hovering over the threshold of it.
"This isn't over Hale" he warned, "one way or another, you'll pay for what you did to our son".
She pushed Mary out of her grip and into his, her eyes still blazing a bright green.
"I did nothing to him".
"You're the reason he's dead" Mary screamed, "you're the reason we had to tell him about all of this before he was ready. Before we had a chance to train him up to be the kind of protector he was meant to be. You got him killed, and you're all going to pay. We're the protectors of this town. It's our job".
She didn't know why she was getting blamed for his demise, but then again, she didn't know what Brian had told his parents about her. For all she knew, he could have painted her as the bad guy, and when he turned up dead, it was only logical for them to blame the person he made into his enemy.
"Well-" she scoffed, "-I hope he rots in fiery hell, and I hope you both join him".
Mary seemed about ready to charge at her but her husband grabbed her and pulled her away, leaving her and Stiles standing in Lydia's room, completely taken aback by what happened.
"I can see where Brian got his psycho-ness from" Stiles whistled, "they are off the charts crazy".
"Did you hear what they called themselves?" she asked with a frown.
"Protectors?"
"Yeah" she mumbled, "I've… I've heard that before. I just….I don't know where from".
"Do you think they'll be back?" Stiles asked nervously.
"Yes" she said without faltering, lifting the syringe to smell it and recoiling when she got the strong smell of wolfsbane and something else more chemical-like.
"Wolfsbane" she said, "a really rare kind. They think she's turning".
"But she's not?" Stiles said, "Lydia's fine".
"She's fine" she nodded, looking at her unconscious friend, "but she's something. No one gets bit and doesn't turn into something".
"So… what do you think she could be?"
Before she had a chance to reply, a groggy voice interrupted her, muttering out a quiet "if you're going to talk like I'm not here, at least check I'm sleeping first".
It took her a second to realise that voice belonged to Lydia who was blinking dopily, raising a hand to rub at her eyes.
"What's going on?" her friend asked, "what was all that noise?"
Her and Stiles looked at each other in surprise and shock, a sense of relief passing between them.
"Lydia…" she mumbled, rushing to her side, "you're okay".
"Of course I'm okay" she said, pushing herself up on her elbows and finally managing to peel her groggy eyes open, looking between her and Stiles.
"So… was I right?" the strawberry blonde continued, "did you have sex at the dance?"
Stiles immediately flared a deep pink, unable to hide his spluttering at that direct and brazen question whereas she just smirked because Lydia was, well… still Lydia. Even after nearly dying, she was still concerned with her sex life.
"No" she laughed, "there was lots of other stuff going on".
"Hm" Lydia let out a disappointed grunt, "too bad. I made you all pretty for nothing".
Yup. Definitely still Lydia.
She looked back at Stiles, ignoring his awkwardness. "Can you let the nurses know she's responsive and awake?"
"Uh… of course. Um… I'll be right back".
He left, leaving her and Lydia alone.
"Not having sex at the dance was criminal" Lydia said.
"You have a chunk taken out of your side, and you're worried about my ability to get dick?" she laughed.
"He looked half decent for once. You wasted an ample opportunity".
"Well, I'm sure we'll get another shot at it".
"And when you do, don't wear that" Lydia scrunched her nose up in distaste at her choice of clothes, "the gift needs to be wrapped appropriately, and that is just disastrous".
If she didn't think so before, then yup. Lydia was going to be just fine.
She was wrong. Lydia was not fine at all. In fact, she was so un-fine that she escaped out the hospital bathroom window - naked. Something that was not all that good of an idea at the tail end of February.
Whatever was happening to her friend was turning into a complete and utter disaster, especially with not only hunters out to get her, but also something called 'protectors'.
Well... Lydia always did like to be the centre of attention.
Since the disaster of the events after the dance, she had promised herself she wouldn't go back to The Hale house - not in this life, or the next. Not willing to put herself through that kind of pain again.
Unfortunately, the universe had other plans for her - as usual.
The burnt and broken remains of the family house that used to be so grand and beautiful seemed to taunt her as Scott, Stiles, Allison and her approached it, a sinking feeling twisting her stomach.
This place must be cursed. How could one place attract so much disaster and bloodshed?
She felt unnerved, a shiver tingling its way up her spine as she got closer to the clearing, shuddering uneasily. Her arms subconsciously tightening around her body as she looked behind her, almost feeling like something was following her. Not necessarily a person, but more like darkness.
The forest was eerily quiet, barely even a wind chill, but something felt different. The woods had always brought her a sense of peace, but now it just seemed... haunted.
"You okay?" Stiles asked, stopping when she stilled and looking at her in concern.
"Yeah" she mumbled, casting another sweep of the forest before turning to face him, "I just got a weird feeling".
"What kind of weird feeling?"
She gulped, that strange unexplained shuddering encasing her body.
"The kind that make people say 'someone just walked over my grave' kind of feeling".
He appeared a little freaked by her explanation, taking her hand and urging her on, catching up with Scott and Allison who had faltered as they got closer to The Hale house.
"She came here? You sure?" Stiles asked in doubt, shooting Scott a disbelieving stare.
"This is where the scent leads" Scott shrugged back, casting a dubious glance around the clearing.
"It makes sense… sort of" she shrugged, "I mean, whatever she is, she is probably looking for the one that bit her… which was P-Peter, and he's here somewhere so…"
She didn't continue her sentence, caught up in the fact that somewhere, close by, was most likely where Derek got rid of Peter's remains. Fearful, yet slightly intrigued at the same time.
"But what doesn't make sense. How could Lydia find this place?".
"She's never been here with me" Allison claimed and Scott let out a sound of agreement and it fell silent between them, but not the kind of silence that was comfortable, more of a kind of silence that was anticipating, and Kayla looked around, seeing the three of them staring at her, eyebrows raised in a questioning look.
"Oh yes, I brought Lydia here for a trip down memory lane" Kayla said sarcastically, "no of course I didn't take her here – it would cost me an arm and a leg to get Lydia this far into the woods" she added, rolling her eyes as she continued slowly making her way through the leaves, a weird tingling sensation coming from her stomach as she got closer and closer to the police-taped house.
She heard Scott and Allison whispering about Lydia's instinct to be part of a pack and how that subconscious feeling could be so strong it made her search for her Alpha - which was all true. Except, if Lydia wasn't a werewolf, wouldn't it be different for her? Would she still seek out her Alpha?
She didn't know, and not knowing was infuriating.
She ignored her friends talking, looking at The Hale house. Peter's memories that he gave her suddenly encapsulating her entire brain.
She remembered exactly how the flames destroyed the home, along with everyone else in it. She remembered how they were trapped and burned alive. She remembered, not only the smell of burning flesh, but the desperation to live.
It wasn't her memories, but she remembered being there and it was horrifying. Seeing the burnt and charred remains of the house just brought it all back, a rush of sickness turning her stomach.
She was snapped from her daze by Scott shouting out Stiles' name and spun around, thinking the worst and assuming they were being attacked, when in actual fact it was just Scott getting his foot caught in a trip wire.
"Dude - next time you see a trip wire, don't trip it" Scott sighed hanging uncomfortably upside down.
"Sorry buddy" Stiles winced, as Allison hid a laugh behind her hand.
She made her way towards them, prepared to help him down, but suddenly Scott waved his arms out in panic, urging them to run.
"Go, go, go go, go, someone's here. Hide".
Stiles grabbed Allison, pulling her into the trees and urged her to follow and, without thinking, distracted by the sheer panic in Scott's voice, she stepped forward without looking and assessing her surroundings and suddenly got yanked into the air.
The force of the pull on her left leg twisted her ankle uncomfortably, making her yelp. The swing of her body sending her careening straight into Scott's path - and unluckily, his forehead.
"Ow" she heard him mutter, blinking hazily and having to reach out to clumsily grab her before she swung into him full force again.
She grabbed onto his arms, stabilising herself midair.
"Why are you ow-ing? You heal" she grumbled, rubbing her own sore forehead that had ungracefully clonked his.
"You swung into me!"
"This is not the time or place for formalities Scott" she huffed, finally stopping swinging but both of them were still slowly spinning around in a circle, like some sort of weird upside down slow dance.
"Well, this is just great. Congratulations to whoever just expertly caught two highschool kids, but we would really appreciate it if you let us down" she called out, rolling her eyes.
"I should've known it would be you two" she heard a voice say scathingly and tried to bend her head backwards, seeing nothing but dark sky, but - unfortunately for her - she would recognise that voice anywhere.
"Mr Argent" Kayla groaned, twisting around on the wire to face him and his fellow hunters, "I would say it's a pleasure to see you but that would be lying – and my dad always taught me never to lie".
"Which one?" he fired back cruelly, smirking as her expression hardened.
"Not the one that ripped out your psycho sister's throat" she shot back, just as vehemently as he did her, making him flinch almost unnoticeably.
"You Hales really need to learn to keep your mouths shut".
"Now where's the fun in that?"
He smirked, kneeling close to them but not close enough for her to reach out and smack him silly - unfortunately.
"As it's the two of you in a compromising situation, maybe leave the sassy remarks to us, huh?"
"You wouldn't know sassy if it hit you in the ass" she exclaimed, ignoring how dizzy she was getting being upside down.
Chris bit back another remark, turning his attention to a nervous Scott who was considerably less talk-backitive than she was. Just simply swinging like he was enjoying a nice day out at a theme park.
"How are you both doing tonight?" the Argent asked, "up to anything in particular?"
"Great – oh, you know, just hanging out".
Okay, maybe not less talk-backitive.
"Yup, just enjoying the view and the amazing feeling of blood rushing to our heads" she remarked sarcastically, unable to stop another roll of her eyes.
"Do I have to gag you?" he asked incredulously, sending her a withering gaze of exhaustion.
She shrugged as best as she could upside down, unbothered by his threats.
"If you're into that kind of thing then whatever" she smirked, "I ain't the kink police".
He glared at her once more, gritting his teeth, probably resisting the urge to cut her in half, and turned his attention back to Scott.
"I want to know what you're both doing out here" he demanded, "the truth this time".
"Looking for our friend" Scott said because, seriously, what else would they be doing out here in the middle of the god damn night?
"Your friend that's turning, right?"
"Turning into a popsicle, yeah" she cut in, "it's freezing tonight and she's naked. That's not exactly a good combination".
"I thought I told you to keep quiet" Chris hugged, his eyes narrowing at her.
"Technically you just told me you were going to gag me, that wasn't telling me to shut up" she corrected him, clearly unable to 'keep her mouth shut' as he had once advised her.
He pointed at one of his hunting buddies and then to her, and she got the message loud and clear.
"Aw, c'mon Chris… there's no need to get hostile" she told him as a big guy walked over to her, pulling out a cloth from his pocket. "Wow, okay, you really did mean you were going to gag me, whatever, jeez… looks like no one has a sense of humour" she muttered as the cloth got tied tightly around her mouth, probably deliberately getting her long hair tangled up in it just for the hell of it.
"Now that's better" Chris exclaimed, back to facing Scott again, "because I understand that Lydia's now a part of your group now, right? Part of your clique? Is that the word you use or is there another word? Part of your pack maybe?" he asked scathingly as she reached up to try and untie the cloth currently cutting into the sides of her mouth but it was tied tightly and in several knots too, making it more difficult than she expected.
"Clique sounds about right to me" Scott muttered and Kayla nodded, letting out a sign of agreement even though no one was paying attention to her.
"That's right" Chris nodded in agreement, "because I know Lydia is a friend of Allison's and one special circumstance such as yourself… one I can handle. Two-" he looked at her with a creepy smile, "-two is pushing it. But three? Not going to happen".
"Allison wouldn't forgive you if you hurt Lydia".
"How about you let me worry about my daughter?" Chris said, "and you just worry about staying out of trouble".
She finally managed to untie the cloth around her mouth, spitting it out and pulling out half her hair with it.
"What you call trouble, we call doing the right thing. Of course you don't know what that is".
She was grating on his nerves, she could tell, but she didn't care. Unable to stop herself from putting these little digs in.
"Do you know what a hemicorporectomy is, Scott?" he asked pointedly, ignoring her. Just as she was about to put her hand in the air like she was back in middle school, Chris pointed at her in warning.
"Keep. Quiet" he exclaimed and she simply exhaled loudly, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms.
"I have a feeling I don't want to".
"It's a medical term for amputating somebody at the waist – cutting them in half".
"I knew that if you just let me answer" Kayla grumbled to herself, but again she was largely ignored - a common theme of this little meeting.
Chris leaned up to demonstrate the motion on Scott, the threat of mutilation just below the surface.
"Let's hope a demonstration doesn't become necessary, yeah?"
"Well, if it does, we know who did it".
Chris strolled away, again - ignoring her quips - his hunting buddies flanking on either side of him, disappearing into the darkness.
"See?" she quirked a brow at Scott, "I told you they cut people in half".
Allison and Stiles appeared, Allison rushing to Scott, and Stiles hurrying to her and smirking down at her in amusement, making her glare up at him.
"Are you both okay?" Allison asked, seeming mortified with her dad's actions.
"Just another life-threating conversation with your dad".
Stiles couldn't stifle his chuckles, pushing at her feet so she started swinging softly which made her glare harder.
"Okay, yes, laugh it up… go on, I know you want to" she sulked, "but do it quick because I think I'm losing circulation in my legs".
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just… 'If you're into that kind of thing'" he quoted in amusement, throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh.
"What else was I meant to say to him?"
"Maybe not something so sexually suggestive?" he smirked.
"I like making people uncomfortable - sue me".
As Stiles and her were bickering, Scott had leaned up and managed to slash out at the rope tying him upside down, landing expertly on his feet.
She looked at him completely unamused.
"And you couldn't have done that before we had to endure that 'want to stick a gun in your mouth' type of conversation?"
Scott shrugged innocently, making her roll her eyes.
"Well that's fantastic" Kayla broke the silence sarcastically, "but I don't have a pair of handy claws at my disposal, so if you could just shimmy your ass over here and cut me loose that would be great".
Stiles snorted as Allison tried to hide her giggles behind her hand but was failing miserably, playfully pushing Scott to help her before they all got snarked at - again.
Scott did as he was told, making his way over to her and, without warning, swiped out with his claws before she could ask for someone to catch her which resulted in her landing awkwardly on her back, letting out a groan at the collision.
"Sorry" Scott winced, his blurry face appearing above her, "I did that a bit too prematurely, huh?"
She snorted, "let's hope that's not the only thing you do prematurely otherwise Allison is going to be extremely disappointed".
Unfortunately, they did not find Lydia that night, nor the next. Her scent was all over the woods and every time Scott thought they were getting closer, her scent disappeared and reappeared somewhere else.
Whatever was going on with Lydia was bad. The bite clearly affecting her more than they all thought.
It was now Tuesday morning, and Lydia had been missing since Sunday evening. That was about 36 hours of being cold, hungry and dehydrated. The outcome looking more and more likely to be bad.
After getting probably only a few minutes of sleep at her crappy motel room she had still rented, she got ready and prepared to leave early to take another wander around Beacon Hills.
Her clothes were running out, having only packed a duffel bag, which meant she would have to kindly ask Stiles to wear more of his clothes or suck back up to her mom who, by this point, she fully expected to have changed the locks.
Regardless, that was a tomorrow issue. She had one outfit left - a short dark green pleated shirt with a cropped white tee, along with the skimpiest most uncomfortable pair of thongs she owned. Why she packed them she had no idea, but she was in a rush and didn't think what she had been throwing carelessly into the bag, and now that had turned around and bit her in the ass - quite literally.
She stuck with wearing her white sneakers, having to resort to going braless.
Yup - she needed more clothes. At this rate, she would soon be doing a Lydia and running around the woods naked.
She left the motel room, grabbing an oversized brown cardigan on the way out and threw it on, nearly tripping over a guy sat slumped outside her room.
"Careful sweetness" he laughed, reaching out to grab her bare leg as she stumbled, "wouldn't want to get hurt now, would you?"
She looked down at him - his clothes old and scraggly and, even from all the way up here, she could smell the nicotine and liquor on his breath.
"Right. Sorry" she apologised half heartedly, prepared to walk away but he was still gripping at her ankle, his bleary eyes slowly inching up her legs, tilting his head a little to peer up her skirt.
"Would you like to help an old man out?" he mumbled, his stare creepy and lusting, his tight grip stroking her ankle, "I could make it worth your time, pretty girl".
She scoffed, "if you don't let go of me, I'll break your face".
He didn't take her threat seriously, chuckling a little as his hand drifted further up her leg, moving towards the back of her thigh so she did what she did best - put disgusting men in their place.
Her free foot kicked out and collided straight into his nose, immediately making him recoil in pain and grab his nose that was bursting with blood.
"Yeah" she scoffed, stepping away, his grip now non existent, "that's what I thought".
It seemed even Beacon Hills had its fair share of assholes.
She took a wander around the edge of the woods, searching for any signs or clues that Lydia was nearby, but found nothing except a bunch of litter and some dog crap that people had failed to pick up.
When she was just about to call off her search for a few hours, she noticed police lights up ahead in the cemetery which piqued her interest, hurrying to see what the commotion was all about.
She kept to the sidelines, trying to blend in amongst the headstones as she watched the Sheriff appearing to interview an older man and a teenager by an open grave.
She squinted, immediately recognising him as the boy that dug Laura's grave. What did Stiles say his name was again...?
Oh right. Lahey. Isaac Lahey.
She watched them. Despite his height, around the older man's presence, who she presumed was his dad, he seemed shy and reserved, almost cowering away from him. Hiding behind a mop of curly dark blonde hair. On the flip side, the older man seemed standoffish and cruel, his expression harsh and twisted into something akin to warning.
It was clear that Isaac did not feel comfortable around his dad, so maybe he wouldn't be honest to the Sheriff in front of him. Maybe she should do some investigating of her own.
She noticed Isaac look up and past the Sheriff, staring into the woods with a fearful look on his face but when she followed his line of sight she saw nothing.
It seemed the Sheriff caught onto that as well because he turned around to investigate but saw nothing either, preparing to turn back to face Isaac and his dad but caught sight of her hovering by a headstone and frowned.
Oops. Busted.
She simply waved, smiling as she did so.
The sheriff finished up with Isaac and his dad, putting away his notebook and beelining straight to her.
"Kayla" he greeted with a sigh, blocking her trying to see past him and into whatever was happening in the grave, "you're up early".
"Bold of you to assume I slept" she smirked, craning her neck around him again to try and figure out what all the fuss was about, "what's going on? Is it Lydia?"
"No, we still haven't found her" the Sheriff informed her, "just a bit of grave robbing".
"Grave robbing?"
He nodded - excuse the pun - gravely, his own expression morphed into disgust.
"What did they take? Diamonds, expensive jewellery?"
"Her liver".
"Oh" she mumbled, "well, that's disgusting".
"You should get to school" he encouraged, "if we find anything out about Lydia, I'll let you all know".
She only nodded in agreement because, in the distance, she saw Isaac Lahey finally part ways with his dad and head towards his bike.
She bid the Sheriff farewell, quickly heading straight towards the boy she didn't really know all that well - or really, at all - because she had a feeling he knew more than he was letting on, and one of her skills was pumping people for information.
She stepped in front of his bike before he could pedal away, her fingers gripping the handlebars as she shot him an award winning smile.
"Hi" she greeted, "Isaac, right?"
The poor boy looked completely blindsighted by her sudden appearance, his baby blue eyes widening in surprise with a touch of anxiety, his helmet half slipping off his head.
"Uh... um... y-yeah..."
"I'm Kayla" she introduced herself, still smiling, holding out a hand for him, but he seemed caught in a constant state of surprise because he didn't take her hand immediately, looking around nervously.
"I... I know" he nodded, finally accepting her hand for a brief shake, "we have art together. And chemistry... and English... and history..."
She wondered why she didn't recognise him if they had that many classes together, but it was clear he was shy and kept to himself. Maybe he blended into the background, like he was invisible.
She, on the other hand, was not.
She jutted her head back towards where all the commotion was happening, keeping her expression carefree and neutral, the smile still fixed on her face.
"Crazy what happened last night" she said, "I mean... it's not every day people steal dead people's livers, is it?"
She watched as his Adam's apple bounced up and down as he swallowed nervously, his eyes darting from side to side, like he was looking for an escape from her and her questioning, still awkwardly half on his bike.
"Don't get me wrong-" she continued, "-this is Beacon Hills, but even by Beacon Hills standards it's kind of weird and gross".
He simply nodded, unable to hold her gaze for longer than two seconds.
"You didn't happen to see anything weird or gross, did you?" she asked sweetly, "something maybe... out of the ordinary?"
He stiffened, a clear indicator that yes, in fact, he did. But would he be willing to share that with her?
"... Why do you want to know?" he settled on saying, making her smile widen.
"Curiosity".
"You're curious about this kind of stuff?"
"Who wouldn't be?"
He dropped his gaze, a part of him looking like he just wanted to cycle away and not look back.
"I saw... I saw something take her liver".
"Something?"
"... Can humans tear apart a grave like that with their own hands?"
"Probably not" she agreed, her eyes twinkling, "what do you think it was?"
The question caught him off guard, looking across at her in surprise and wariness, a panicked sweat breaking out across his forehead.
"I uh... I've got to get to practice" he gulped, "I'm running late".
"You know-" she tightened her grip around the metal handlebars, keeping him grounded, "-you wouldn't sound crazy if you told me what really happened".
"I... I just did".
"Maybe" she smirked, "but something tells me you're leaving out a few key details".
His lips tightened together, looking anywhere but her eyes, clearly nervous and on edge.
Maybe she was going soft but she decided to take pity on him, easing off the playful intimidation a little and instead simply smiled, nodding down to bike.
"Fancy giving me a ride to school?"
"A-A ride?" he spluttered, "o-on the bike? With me?"
"My balance is spectacular".
He didn't know what to say, looking down at his handlebars and then to her, his heart nearly jumping out of his chest as he awkwardly slipped off his helmet and offered it to her.
She laughed, pushing it back into his hands.
"Don't sweat it. Those cheekbones of yours need better protection than mine".
A/N) yayyyy an update hahaha we are heading into exciting parts of season 2, and yay to Kayla and Isaac finally meeting. It's about time - this will be interesting... ;)
Also, I just can't wait for Stiles and Kayla smut - that is all haha
So I hoped you all liked and please review and I shall see you soon :)