#I will drive him to sword practice and help him with his math homework

[cry-ptidd]

Teeny tiny Alucard

[dr3amfyr-e]

modern!jace thoughts ( wc. 600-ish )

i have a jace parasite living in my brain <3 i’m cooking up a part two ( i cooked it up )

jacaerys who studies literature and linguistics at university — on the pre-law track. he’s such a diligent student, a frequenter of libraries and study rooms. ( but he doesn’t really have to try that hard, it comes easy, it’s aggravating )

he lives in the nicest dorm on campus, probably private housing.

jacaerys who wears glasses :3 but only when he must, makes an effort to put contacts in every day. but some days are just glasses days. ( they’re the sliver squoval wire framed ones )

jacaerys who prioritizes hygiene, he’s so clean. (i’m a jon girl at heart, i can acknowledge that he is not squeaky clean. jace is squeaky clean) jace has a skincare routine and a haircare routine. he’s using olaplex and cerave and that super expensive moisturizer. he knows how to defuse and gel cast his curls, he’ll happily do yours too! i firmly believe he uses an electric toothbrush AND HE TAKES CARE OF HIS NAILS

jacaerys who attended a private school until university, and started playing competitive football ( ⚽️ ) at age 10. he plays in college too, but he’s not as serious about it.

lucerys attends the same private school and plays for the same team, so jace practices with him ( it usually ends with a physical altercation, think the sword fight scene ‘what. was. THAT?’ )

jacaerys who likes animals, and LOVES his dog. vermax lives at home while he is off at school, but when jace gets a place of his own the dog will come with. he walks him every morning and evening and takes him for runs most days over the summer. vermax sleeps in jace’s bed, and he takes up a good portion.

jacaerys who is SO oldest daughter coded. he’s driving his siblings around. taking joffrey to pediatrician appointments and picking him up from school. going to all of luke’s football games and rhaena’s violin concerts.

chronic over achiever, he has to be his mothers favorite daughter- what, who said that?

mama’s boy jacaerys who looks up to her more than anyone. he’s bragging her up to anyone who will listen: in his gender and women’s studies class like, “my mom is a ceo! 🙋” “my mom is married to a woman! 🙋”

he would defend his mother’s name with his life. he’s getting into fist fights at social events, ryan atwood style. ( no he’s not, but he really wants to )

jacaerys who can be mean. he doesn’t mean to be, he doesn’t want to be — he hates it. but the world he grew up in was exclusive, and cliquey, and competitive.

he’s good at controlling it, thinking before he speaks. because he’s not a mean person. he’s good, and kind, and gentle. but, it comes to the surface when he goes into defense mode.

he made luke cry once, and started journaling to channel his emotions.

english/history person jacaerys. he’s hopeless at helping his brothers with their math homework.

when his mother married his late grandfather’s former wife he started reading lesbian theory to cope. and he liked it! he borrows baela’s feminist theory books, they bookclub.

jacaerys who, unfortunately, does participate in performative reading. omg nooo don’t come talk to me while i’m reading didion and wearing pearls and mewing 🧏

jacaerys who has a really expensive digital camera and also a really expensive film camera. he likes to post his pictures on his instagram ( no one cares )

all of his social media accounts are private because he doesn’t want to be the internet’s next eligible bachelor.

jacaerys who cries when he’s frustrated.

jacaerys who tolerates his step-brothers, but not very well or with much enjoyment. he has way more in common with alicent than he’d like to admit ( quintessential horrifying step-child experience of being mistaken for your step-parents biological child ) he likes helaena, though! they’re kind of bestie

he separates puzzle pieces by colour for her and looks at all of her art and knows all of her favorite bugs. ( he’s always wanted a sister )

jacaerys who is a fantastic boyfriend ( i’ll get into this later ) (( i got into this ))

[my-random-ocs]

Chapter 14: Shape-Shifted

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x OC (eventually)

Warnings: Violence, mentions of abuse, language

<<< Previous || Masterlist || Next >>>

After coming out of that weird trance the doctors called a fugue state, Lydia and I were admitted to the hospital for two more days. When we were released, Griffin made sure I stayed home the rest of the week and rested. Texting with Lydia, I learned that her mom was making her stay at home, too.

During the week I had off, Scott and Stiles came and explained that Lydia and I had been missing for almost two days. Scott explained that Allison’s grandfather showed up for Kate’s funeral, and he’s definitely a hunter. It turned out it was another werewolf that attacked the ambulance, and that werewolf got caught in one of the traps the Argents have in the woods. Scott had gone to help him, but Derek showed up and held him back.

The Argents called the werewolf an omega, because he was without a pack. He had sworn he hadn’t hurt anyone, and the guy in the ambulance was already dead, but Allison’s grandfather did that hemicorporectomy thing with a sword- where you amputate someone at the waist. I don’t think I’m getting that visual out of my head for a while.

Apparently that’s why Allison’s grandfather and the other hunters are here- they’re declaring war. Peter killed Kate, one of their own, and no matter what she did, it looks like the Argents got rid of their code. Scott said the hunters were going to hunt down every werewolf in Beacon Hills, and it’s why Derek told Scott that he needs to join his pack.

The only way to fight them, Derek said, is together.

____________

Finally able to go back to school Monday morning, I step out of the apartment and into the hallway, locking the door behind me. At the same time, my neighbor came out of her own apartment a few doors down. Hayden Romero, an eighth grader whose sister works with Griffin at the sheriff’s station, locked the door behind her, adjusting the bag on her back. I met her over break when Griffin and I first moved in.

“Hey, Hayden,” I greet, both of us moving toward the elevator.

“Hey, Vivian,” she replies. “First day back?”

I nod. “Yep.” We start walking toward the elevator. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” she answers. “Midterms are in a few weeks, so the teachers are going crazy, piling on homework, especially math. I have zero idea of what’s going on in that class.”

“Well, I can help if you want,” I offer as we reach the elevator. I press the down button and we wait.

“Really?” Hayden asks, and, at my nod, relief washes over her face. “Oh, my God, that would be awesome. I have no idea what I’m doing, and I have to pass this class. Thanks, Vivian.”

“No problem,” I chuckle as the doors open and we step inside, Hayden pressing the button for the lobby.

“Hold the door, please!” I hear a woman call, and I manage to catch the doors before they close, separating them again.

Mrs. Svorski, the sweet old Ukranian lady who lives right next to me, steps into the elevator. “Thank you, darlings,” she greets in her thick accent, a smile on her face. The doors close, and the elevator starts moving. She turns to me. “How are you doing?”

I inwardly sigh. I suppose the whole town heard about the attack, and then about me running around the woods in only a hospital gown. “I’m fine,” I answer, mustering a small smile.

“Well, you let me know if you need anything.” I nod, and her gaze moves toward mine and Hayden’s backpacks. “Going to school?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, Hayden nodding in agreement.

“Good,” she says, adjusting her handbag strap. “A good education is the best thing a person can have. You girls get good grades?”

We both nod, and Mrs. Svorski continues, “Good. Grades matter, they are what get you to a good school. But you know what gets you through life?” Hayden and I shake our heads, and Mrs. Svorski grins. “Gumption! Something I can feel you both have in abundance.”

Hayden and I exchange smiles, and the elevator dings, signalling we reached the main floor. “You darlings have a good day at school, and remember- live boldly, and you’ll get everything you want in life.”

She strides down the hall, head held high, showing off her own share of gumption.

“I’ll see you later,” I tell Hayden. “Let me know when you want me to come help with math.”

“Thanks, Vivian. I’ll see you,” she responds, and we split up once we get outside as she heads toward her waiting school bus.

I make my way toward Stiles’ Jeep, where he is waiting inside. I told him he didn’t have to drive me this morning, but he said he felt better picking me up than me taking the school bus by myself.

“What are you smiling about?” Stiles asks as I buckle my seatbelt.

My smile grows slightly wider. “Gumption,” I answer simply.

Stiles shakes his head, amused, as he starts his car and we head toward school.

____________

I walk up the steps to one of the side entrances between Lydia and Allison. There’s a morning practice for lacrosse, but Coach said I’m excused for the next few days as a result of the chunk missing from my side that will definitely result in a permanent scar, and running through the woods with absolutely zero memory of it. I’m not exactly complaining. I don’t have to change, but I do have to meet the team in the locker room in twenty minutes to head out to the field with them.

“You really don't remember anything?” Allison asks, the three of us stopping at the doors.

“They called it a fugue state,” Lydia explains, “which is basically a way of saying ‘We have no idea why you two can't remember running through the woods naked for two days.’” She shrugs. “But personally, I don't care. I lost nine pounds.”

I hold back a chuckle as Allison asks Lydia, “Are you ready for this?”

“Please,” Lydia scoffs. “It's not like my aunt's a serial killer.”

If I didn’t know Lydia, I would have thought she was being a jerk, for lack of a better term, but because I do know her, I know she’s joking. It’s not really obvious, but she’s definitely joking.

As Lydia walks through the doors, Allison turns to me, asking, “You sure you’ll be okay?”

I gesture to my backpack. “Hey, I got Yogi Bear here, and both my girls,” I say, trying to smile. “I’ll be fine.” Ally smiles back, and I hope she doesn’t realize that I’m mostly trying to reassure myself. Even though I’ve maintained to everyone that I’m fine, I really don’t have any idea why I can’t remember anything of the past few days. I have the worst feeling that it was a result of the bite Peter gave Lydia and I, but since we’re not werewolves, I have no idea why we were affected. Actually, I have no idea why we’re not werewolves, for that matter, even though we both survived the bite.

But, back to the first day back. I shake my head of my thoughts, taking a deep breath. “You got this, Viv,” I think, following Allison into school.

As the door closes behind me, I see Lydia has stopped walking. Allison and I stop on either side of her as I realize that a large group of people have stopped and started staring at us, as well. I anxiously finger my locket, shrinking back slightly. I wonder if this is one of those nightmares where you go to school naked.

I look down quickly at my black combat boots and jeans and gray sweater with red and blue stars all over it. My eyes flick to my right, to Lydia’s maroon dress and heels, and further past her to Allison’s blue jacket and white dress. All dressed, all good.

Allison leans closer to Lydia, saying quietly, “Maybe it's the nine pounds.”

I smirk, feeling better knowing that I really do have my best friends with me. Lydia flips her hair away from her face and almost struts down the hallway, ignoring everyone’s stares. That’s my girl.

Allison and I share a smile, and she links her arm through mine. I remember what Mrs. Svorski said this morning, and try to summon as much gumption as I can. We walk down the hallway, and I hold my head high.

____________

I eventually split from Lydia and Allison to head to the locker room. I turn a corner when I crash into a wall.

Or, what I thought was a wall. I stumble back, but feel a hand wrap around my arm, steadying me. I look up to see Matt in front of me.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” I say, straightening and adjusting my backpack on my shoulder.

“No problem,” Matt says, letting go of my arm. “So, uh, I never got a chance to come see you at the hospital. It’s been sort of chaotic at home, and I just never got the chance to get away.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You wanted to come see me at the hospital?”

Matt nods, seemingly embarrassed. “Yeah. I just wanted to ask how you were doing?”

“I’m doing good,” I answer, feeling a little awkward. Matt and I don’t really talk much, but it’s sort of sweet of him to check on me.

“That’s good,” Matt says. “So, is it gonna leave a scar? The attack, I mean?”

I nod. “Yeah, that’s what the doctor said.”

“That’s gotta suck,” he says sympathetically. “I mean, you already have that scar from the accident and now-”

“How did you know about the accident?” I interrupt.

Matt looks flustered. “Oh, um- Jake Johnson started telling some guys on the team. I don’t hang with that kind of crowd but he was talking about it right near my locker, so I sort of heard.”

“Oh,” I say, and I suddenly feel the urgent need to get out of here. “Well, I actually have to get to practice, so- I should go.”

“Do you want to walk together?” Matt asks.

“No,” I say quickly as Matt moves to follow me down the hallway. “I mean, uh, I’m supposed to be meeting Scott and Stiles. So, I should go.” Without waiting for an answer, I tighten my grip on my bag and practically run down the hallway toward the locker room.

____________

“I'm serious,” Scott insists as the three of us walk down the hallway toward the locker room. “It's not like the last full moon. I don't feel the same.”

“Does that include the urge to maim and kill us?” I ask, gesturing between me and him.

“I swear I don't have the urge to maim and kill you,” he assures me.

“You know,” Stiles says, “you say that now but then the full moon goes up and out come the fangs and the claws and there's a lot of howling and screaming and running everywhere, okay? And it's very stressful on me and so yes, Viv and I are still locking you up.”

“Okay, fine,” Scott relents.

Scott and Stiles walk through the door to change while I stay in the hall, not wanting to be scarred for life. After a few moments, Stiles pops his head out through the door. “It’s safe for you to come in now,” he says, and I follow him to where Scott is standing by their lockers.

“But I do think I'm in more control now,” Scott continues. “Especially since things are good with Allison.”

“Okay, I'm aware of how good things are with Allison,” Stiles says.

“They're really good,” Scott continues with a grin.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “I- thank you, I know.”

Scott keeps smirking and says, “I mean, like, really good.”

“Oh, my God, I get it!” I suddenly burst. Why do I need to be part of this particular conversation? “Can you please just shut the fuck up before I have the urge to maim and kill myself.” Stiles points at me in agreement.

Scott chuckles lightly and asks, “All right, did you get something better than handcuffs this time?”

“Yeah, much better,” Stiles says, opening his locker. Immediately, the long chain starts falling to the ground, very loudly, I might add.

As Stiles flounders to stop the chain from falling, I wince, closing my eyes. Stiles eventually just lets it keep falling, and I don’t need my eyes open to know that everyone in the room has their’s on us. I hear footsteps and I open my eyes to see Coach standing next to us.

Finally, the chain stops falling, laying in a pile on the floor, and I am silent as I avoid eye contact with everyone.

“Part of me wants to ask,” Coach starts, looking at the chain. “The other part says knowing will be more disturbing than anything I could ever imagine. So- I- I'm gonna walk away.”

“That's good,” Stiles says, pointing toward Coach’s back as he leaves. “That's a wise choice, Coach.”

As we lean down to gather the chain, I notice a distracted look on Scott’s face and realize something is wrong. “You good, dude?” I ask him, gaining Stiles’ attention. “Scott.”

“There's another,” Scott whispers in amazement. “In here, right now.”

“Another what?” Stiles asks.

“Another werewolf.”

____________

As the three of us sit down on the bench, I quietly ask Scott, “Okay, wait, so there’s another werewolf on the team? How do you know?”

“It was kind of like a scent, but I couldn't tell who it was,” he says, looking around at the other guys on the team.

“What if you can get him one-on-one?” Stiles asks. “Would that help?”

“Yeah,” Scott nods.

“Okay. I think I got an idea.”

Why does this not sound like a particularly good idea?

When Stiles gets up and goes to talk to Coach, Scott turns to me. “How do you feel?” He asks.

I shrug. “Okay, I guess,” I answer.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little,” I say. “It’s healing. Doctor said it’s going to leave a wicked scar.” I smile sarcastically. “Guess no crop tops for me, huh?”

Scott and I share an uneasy laugh. “Well, I’m here if you need help, okay?” He tells me, and this time I smile for real.

“Thanks,” I say.

Suddenly, Stiles runs back up to us, carrying more gear than he had left with.

“I told Coach you're switching with Danny for the day,” Stiles tells Scott, handing him a large net.

“But I hate playing goal,” Scott says.

“Remember when I said I had an idea?” Stiles asks, waving an arm. “This is the idea.”

Scott seems to catch on. “Oh.”

“There we go,” Stiles says, putting on his gear.

Scott looks at me, still obviously confused, and I shrug, just as in the dark on this plan as he is.

“What's the idea?” Scott asks, turning back to Stiles.

“Yeah, I’d like to know, too,” I chime in, raising a hand slightly.

Stiles sighs in frustration. “I seriously don't understand how either of you survive without me sometimes.”

He grabs Scott’s shoulders, making him come closer. I lean in, and Stiles fills us in on the plan quietly. I have to admit, it is kind of a good plan.

As he finishes, Coach blows his whistle and shouts, “Let's go! Line it up! Faster! Make daddy proud.”

Everyone, minus me, goes out onto the field to start practice.

Coach blows his whistle, tossing a ball to Jake Johnson, who catches it in his net and runs toward Scott in the goal. He is almost there when Scott charges out of the goal, tackling him, making me jump in surprise.

I exchange a startled look with Stiles. This isn’t exactly what the plan was supposed to be.

Honestly, though, it’s Jake Johnson, so he kind of deserved it.

Scott helps him up and completely ignores boundaries as he sniffs Jake. I bury my head in my hands, grimacing. Jesus Christ, this was definitely not the plan.

“McCall!” Coach snaps, and I open my eyes.

“Yeah,” Scott says as he walks back into the goal.

Coach turns to the other players, saying, “Usually the goalie stays somewhere within the vicinity of the actual goal.”

“Yes, Coach,” Scott says.

“Let's try it again,” Coach says, walking back toward the bench by me.

Coach blows the whistle again and tosses the ball to the next player in line, which is Matt. He starts running toward the goal, but Scott tackles him, too. As they are both on the ground, Scott again not so subtly sniffs our teammate.

“McCall!” Coach yells, frustrated. “The position's goalkeeper. Not goal abandoner.”

“Sorry, Coach,” Scott says, getting back into the goal.

“Let's go!” Coach shouts, starting the next drill. Again, Scott crashes into him.

Coach approaches Stiles, grabbing his helmet and bringing him closer. “Stilinski, what the hell is wrong with your friend?”

Without missing a beat, Stiles answers, “Uh, he's failing two classes. He's a little socially awkward and if you look close enough, his jaw line's kind of uneven.”

Coach examines Scott like he is just noticing the jaw line thing. “That's interesting.” He lets Stiles go, walking back over to the bench. “Let's fire it up.”

He starts the next drill for Danny and this time, it is poor Danny who gets knocked down.

Coach blows his whistle, snapping, “McCall! You come out of that goal one more time and you'll be doing suicide runs ‘till you die. It'll be the first ever suicide run that actually ends in a suicide. Got it?”

“Yes, Coach,” Scott says as he heads back to the goal.

Coach turns toward me. “Yeah. Byrne, never thought I’d say this, but I am glad you aren’t playing today.”

I smile slightly. “Me, too, Coach.”

Jackson’s voice gains our attention. “Uh, Coach, my shoulder's hurting. I'm gonna- I'm gonna sit this one out.”

I exchange an intrigued look with Stiles as Jackson moves toward the benches. Well, that’s interesting. As he sits a little ways away from me, I look at him out of the corner of my eye.

Coach starts the next drill for Isaac Lahey. It could just be me, but he looks more aggressive than the other players, and he doesn’t hesitate to run toward Scott. As Scott knocks him down, they both land in a similar assertive position, like they are both poised to fight.

I turn my head sharply toward Stiles, and as his wide eyes meet mine, I know we are thinking the same thing: Isaac is the other werewolf.

Coach blows the whistle once more, and our attention turns toward Noah, Griffin, and another deputy walking toward us on the field. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion at the sight of them, wondering what is going on.

As Isaac is pulled away by the officers, Scott, Stiles, and I stand a little ways away. Scott has his head tilted toward the conversation, listening in. “His father's dead,” Scott informs us. “They think he was murdered.”

“Are they saying he's a suspect?”

Our eyes on Isaac as Noah leads him away, Scott answers, “I'm not sure, why?”

Knowing what Stiles is thinking, I continue, “Because they can lock him in a holding cell for twenty-four hours.”

“Like, overnight?” Scott questions.

“During the full moon,” Stiles confirms.

“How good are these holding cells at holding people?” Scott asks.

I tilt my head, considering. “People, good,” I say. “But werewolves? Probably not that good.”

With that lovely thought in our minds, Scott asks, “Guys, remember when I said I don't have the urge to maim and kill?”

“Yeah,” Stiles answers as I nod.

I follow Scott’s gaze to Isaac being led away by the officers.

“He does.”

____________

In science class, Scott leans over to Stiles, who is sitting between Scott and I at our lab table. “Why would Derek choose Isaac?” He whispers.

Stiles furrows his brow, thinking. “Peter told me that if the bite doesn't turn you it could kill you,” he muses. “And maybe teenagers have a better chance of surviving.”

“Doesn't being a teenager mean your dad can't hold him?” Scott asks.

“I mean, not unless they have solid evidence,” I answer. “Or a witness.”

With those words, Stiles turns his head as something occurs to him. His eyes land on Danny. “Wait. Danny. Where's Jackson?”

“In the principal's office talking to your dad,” Danny says.

Stiles flails a little. “What? Why?”

Danny looks at Stiles like it should be obvious. “Maybe because he lives across the street from Isaac.”

Stiles turns back to Scott and I as I whisper, “Witness.”

“We gotta get to the principal's office,” Stiles says.

“How?” Scott asks.

At Stiles’ face, I immediately don’t love his idea, but it will work. Reluctantly, I quietly rip a sheet of paper out of my notebook, balling it up and handing it to him.

Still facing the blackboard, Mr. Harris says, “Everyone please turn to page seventy-three.”

Stiles pulls his arm back, aims, and throws the paper ball. I wince as it hits the back of Harris’ head, causing giggles throughout the room. Harris turns angrily, demanding all of us, “Who in the hell did that?”

Stiles crosses his arms, pointing to both Scott and I as we both point to each other.

____________

Sitting in the hall outside of the office, we all lean back in our seats in what we hope is an inconspicuous way, trying to hear what Noah and Jackson are talking about. Through the glass, we hear Noah say, “Listen to me, you're telling me that you knew Isaac's father was hitting him?”

“Hitting him? He was kicking the crap out of him,” Jackson confirms.

“Did you ever say anything to anyone?” Noah asks. “A teacher, parents, anyone?”

I can practically see the look of unconcern as Jackson says, “Nope. It's not my problem.”

I shake my head angrily, grinding my teeth. Why am I surprised that Jackson never told anyone? After my parents and sister died, I had to spend some time in the foster system while social services determined if Griffin would be a good guardian. Unfortunately, I can identify with Isaac, and I wish that if someone knew what had been going on, they told someone.

Knowing exactly what I am thinking, Stiles reaches out and places a calming hand on my shoulder. I close my eyes, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and leaning into his touch slightly.

Suddenly, the door opens and I snap my eyes open as Noah steps out into the hallway.

At the sight of his father, Stiles snatches a magazine from the table and covers his face with it- a bad attempt at hiding.

I bite back a snort. Pretending he does not see his son, Noah addresses Scott and I. “Hi, Scott, Vivian.”

“Hey, Uncle Noah,” I say, nervously smiling.

“H- yeah,” Scott laughs nervously, waving a little.

Noah shakes his head and walks down the hallway. As he leaves our line of vision, Stiles lowers the magazine.

“Kids,” a voice calls from behind us, making us turn quickly to see an older man in the doorway. “Come on in.”

As we get settled in the office, the man introduces himself as Gerard Argent, the new principal, and I can barely mask my shock at Allison’s grandfather being our new principal. When the hell did that happen?

“Vivian Byrne,” Gerard starts, looking at my file. “Moved here this semester, exemplary grades, but not a lot of extracurriculars. It also looks here like you attacked one Jake Johnson a few weeks ago.” He shakes his head. “That’s not good, Miss Byrne.”

I lean forward a little in my seat. “Oh, well, you see, it wasn’t really an attack- it was just one punch, and I feel what he said beforehand-” I start, but he interrupts me by snapping my file closed and moving on to Scott.

“Scott McCall. Academically not the most accomplished, but I see you have become quite the star athlete.” He closes Scott’s files and opens Stiles’. “Mr. Stilinski. Oh, perfect grades but little to no extracurriculars. Maybe you should try lacrosse.”

“Oh, actually I'm already-” Stiles starts, but Gerard interrupts him like he did me and turns back to Scott.

“Hold on. McCall.” I exchange an annoyed look with Stiles at the rudeness of this jerk. “You're the Scott that was dating my granddaughter.”

Scott shifts nervously as he struggles to say, “We were dating but not anymore. Not dating, not seeing any of each other or doing anything with each other- At all.”

Oh, my God, calm down.

Gerard looks at him in amusement. “Relax, Scott, you look like you're about to crack a cyanide pill with your teeth.”

Scott sighs. “Just a hard breakup.”

“Oh, that's too bad. You seem like a pretty nice kid to me.” He turns his attention to all of us. “Now listen, guys. Yes, I am the principal, but I really don't want you to think of me as the enemy.”

“Heh, is that so?” Stiles asks sarcastically, looking at Scott and I.

Ignoring that, Gerard continues, “However, this being my first day, I do need to support my teachers. So unfortunately someone is going to have to take the fall and stay behind for detention.”

I look to my right to Scott, who looks to his right at Stiles. After a moment of a small staring contest, Stiles sighs. “Fine.”

____________

Scott and I rush out of the school onto the front steps, just in time to see Isaac get placed in a police car and get driven away.

I shake my head in defeat. “Shit,” I say. “What the hell do we do now?”

Before Scott can answer, another car pulls up. The window rolls down, revealing Derek Hale. “Get in,” he orders.

Scott looks at him like he’s crazy. “Are you serious? You did that. That's your fault.”

“I know that,” Derek admits. “Now get in the car and help me.”

Scott shakes his head, making his way down the steps closer to Derek’s car. I follow as he says, “No, I've got a better idea. I'm gonna call a lawyer. Because a lawyer might actually have a chance at getting him out before the moon goes up.”

Derek shakes his head. “Not when they do a real search of the house.”

I freeze. “Is it that bad?”

Scott moves his eyes between Derek and I. “What do you mean?” He asks.

Derek shakes his head, saying, “Whatever Jackson said to the cops, what's in the house is worse. A lot worse.”

Derek opens the passenger side door, and Scott looks at me. “Go,” I tell him. “I have to get to Allison’s.”

Scott nods and gets in the car. Derek nods at me once, then takes off.

____________

A little while later, I am at Allison’s to study, standing in the kitchen with her waiting for Lydia. We see Gerard and Chris stepping into the study. We exchange a look and move toward the doorway to listen in.

“I'm not interested in whether they locked up a sixteen-year-old kid,” Gerard says. “I'm interested in what's going to happen to that sixteen-year-old when the moon hits its peak tonight. Do we have proof?”

“Is the next step killing him?” Chris asks.

“The next step is eliminating the threat,” Gerard counters, and repeats his question. “Do we have proof?”

Chris hesitates. “I haven't been in history class for a while, but I'm pretty sure straight-up genocide hasn't worked out too often.” That’s a very good point.

“Do we have proof or not?” Gerard repeats once more.

Allison leans forward into the doorway more, careful to stay quiet. I am just behind her, out of sight.

“Not irrefutable,” Chris says, then sighs. “But not insignificant. The driver's side door of Lahey's car was pried off.”

“Pried off?” Gerard questions.

“Ripped off,” Chris corrects.

Okay, but I’m definitely not feeling bad for a child abuser, though.

Allison straightens, and I know she’s been spotted. I hear doors close a few feet away, cutting us off from eavesdropping further.

“Are they actually going to kill Isaac?” Allison asks me quietly.

I shrug helplessly. “I hope not.”

Before we can say anything else, two men in deputy attire nearly crash into Allison. “Sorry,” she mutters.

They both smile softly at us, then continue toward the front door. Allison and I exchange a worried look and our eyes follow his back until he’s out of sight.

“Allison?” Her father’s voice calls from the side, gaining our attention. Allison turns toward the study and I back up further, staying out of sight.

“Come in,” Gerard chimes. “We'd like to talk to you.”

Allison smiles slightly nervously. “I'm supposed to study with Lydia and Vivian, I really don't have time to chat.”

“Actually, that's who we want to talk to you about, sweetheart,” Chris says.

Allison moves her gaze discreetly toward me as I furrow my brows in confusion. What exactly do they want to talk to Allison about? Then again, Lydia and I did just get back from our naked jog through the woods that neither of us remember.

I point behind me so Allison knows I’m headed to her room, and she reluctantly starts walking into the study.

I hear the doors close behind her and I make my way up the stairs.

A little while later, Allison explains to me what her father and grandfather talked to her about and I try to call Stiles again. “He can’t still be in detention, can he?” Allison asks.

I shrug, and Stiles finally answers. “Hey,” I say, putting the phone on speaker so Allison can listen in.

“Hey, sorry, Harris literally just let me out of detention,” Stiles says in a rush. “Literally. And he had my phone the whole fucking time.”

“Well, we need to do something right now,” I say. “We have a big issue.”

I move the phone slightly toward Allison more so she can speak into it.

“They were asking me all these questions about Lydia and Viv and how they were bitten by Peter, and then they sent these guys out.”

“Wait, what guys?” Stiles asks.

“They were dressed as two Sheriff's deputies,” I state.

“They're sending them to the station for Isaac,” Stiles realizes.

“One of them was also carrying this box with something on it, like, um, like a carving or something,” Allison adds.

“What was it?”

Allison moves toward a stack of books on her desk. “Hold on, hold on. It's in one of these books. I'm taking a picture.”

She finds the page and I gasp at the sight of the flower. 

Before she can take a photo, I interrupt her, speaking into the phone, “Stiles, we don’t need the photo. It’s wolfsbane. The carving was wolfsbane.”

“Shit,” we hear Stiles say loudly, causing Allison to look confused.

“What does that mean?” She asks.

“It means they're gonna kill him.”

We hang up, telling Stiles that Allison and I will go after the deputies and he should call Scott.

____________

Allison nocks an arrow, takes aim, and releases. The arrow flies true, burying itself into the deputies’ back tire. However, the deputies don’t even notice and Allison sighs, shooting another arrow at the front tire. This time, the tires squeal and they pull over.

Both deputies- both hunters- get out and inspect the damage.

“Wait here,” Allison whispers. She nocks another arrow, grabs her bag, and sprints to the other side of the street, purposely being loud. She hides behind a brick wall. I back up, careful to stay in the shadows, but I poke my head out to watch the scene.

Hearing her footsteps, the hunters exchange a look and make their way to the back of the car. Allison lets another arrow fly, and it buries itself in one of the hunter’s legs. Before hunter number two can do anything, she fires again, and the arrow lands in the second one’s leg. Both of them fall against the car, groaning in pain.

I whistle lowly. Guess I shouldn’t get on Ally’s bad side, huh?

Allison and I exchange a smirk as we run back over to her car. Good luck, guys.

She shoves her gear into the back seat of her car and starts it up. As we drive a safe distance away from the scene, I grin. “That was incredibly badass,” I tell her.

She smiles. “Thanks.”

“Hey,” I start, hesitant. “Would you mind teaching me?”

“What, archery?” Allison asks.

“Yeah, I just- if I’m going to be part of this world, I want to know how to defend myself,” I say.

Allison's smile widens. “Let’s do it.”

I finger my locket, smiling wide. I wonder what my family would think about me getting involved in all of this.

Before I can think too hard, my phone rings and Stiles’ name pops up on the caller ID. I answer quickly, putting him on speaker. 

“Hey, did you slow him down?” Stiles asks.

Allison and I exchange a smirk as she says, “You could say that.”

“All right, well, uh, I'm headed to the station right now,” Stiles says.

“Where's Scott?” Allison asks.

“Isaac's.”

“Please tell me he has a plan,” I say.

“Yeah, but not a very good one,” Stiles confirms. “And unfortunately we don't really have time to come up with anything better.”

Allison and I exchange a concerned look. “Okay, I’m going to drop Viv at the station with you then head over there,” she says.

“All right, see you then.”

____________

A few minutes after I get to the station, Derek arrives, and I get settled in the back seat of Stiles’ Jeep while Derek sits in the passenger side.

We all look toward the front doors of the station as Stiles explains the plan. “Okay, now the keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox in my father's office. The problem is getting past the front desk.”

“I'll distract her,” Derek says, and starts to open the door.

Stiles grabs at Derek to stop him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa- you? You're not going in there.” Derek moves his eyes between Stiles' hand on his shoulder to his face, and Stiles realizes his mistake. “I'm taking my hand off.”

Stiles removes his hand, and Derek says, “I was exonerated.”

“You're still a person of interest.”

“I mean, technically, he’s innocent,” I chime, and Derek nods toward me.

Stiles looks at me like I’m crazy, but I don’t waver, and he moves his gaze back to Derek. “In- you? Yeah, right!” Derek glares at Stiles, and he sighs. “Okay, fine. What's your plan?”

“To distract her,” Derek says, like it should be obvious.

“Uh huh. How? By punching her in the face? Unh,” Stiles says with some sort of grimace at the end, which makes me snort.

“Heh,” Derek laughs sarcastically. “By talking to her.”

“Okay, all right,” Stiles says. “Give me a sample. What are you gonna open with?” Derek doesn’t say anything. “Dead silence. That should work beautifully. Any other ideas?”

Derek thinks for a second. “I'm thinking about punching you in the face.”

Stiles’ mouth drops open and I laugh, rubbing my hands together. “All right, let’s do this, guys.”

____________

Stiles and I wait in the hallway while Derek talks to the woman at the front desk. Stiles has his head positioned so he can see around the corner, and I am just behind him.

“Good evening, how can I help- you?” The deputy trails off.

“Hi,” Derek greets. I can practically see the charm coming off of him.

“Hi,” the deputy says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Um, I had a question,” Derek says. “Um, sorry I'm a little- a little thrown. I wasn't really expecting someone-”

“Like me?” The deputy asks, sounding a little disappointed.

Stiles and I start to make our way across the room, watching the scene as we go.

Derek smiles. “Oh, I was gonna say ‘so incredibly beautiful’ but, yeah, I guess that'd be the same thing.”

Stiles places a hand on my upper back, placing me in front of him so I am first in the hallway leading to his dad’s office. As we enter the hallway and are officially out of sight, I make an impressed look. “He’s good,” I whisper to Stiles, who huffs and rolls his eyes.

We enter the dark office, and Stiles inputs the numbers into the tiny safe where they keep the keys to the holding cells. He opens the door and we find… nothing.

“Where are they?” I ask quietly, getting the worst feeling.

“They’re already here,” Stiles confirms, his voice filled with dread.

Suddenly, we hear keys clinking outside and our eyes go wide.

“Oh, no,” I whisper.

“Stay close,” he tells me quietly, and I nod, both of us heading toward the sound quickly.

We run out into the hallway, and Stiles suddenly stops as we nearly crash into someone. “Oh,” he mumbles as we back up. Two someones. The hunters Allison slowed down. Shit.

My eyes widen. Stiles moves an arm in front of me, shielding me slightly, and I grab onto it. Stiles attempts to come up with a cover story, stammering, “Uh, just looking, um-” Stiles’ eyes trail down to the blood on the floor, and back up to their legs, where arrows are sticking out of one leg on each hunter.

The hunters look down as well before looking back at us. I tighten my grip on Stiles’s arm as he mutters, “Oh, shit-”

As one of the hunters seizes Stiles, covering his mouth, the other roughly grabs me around my waist, effectively separating us. His tight grip on my wound makes me wince. Stiles, who had started flailing in his captor’s arms, thrashes harder when he hears me breathe in sharply in pain.

I start hitting the hunter who has me, yelling, “Get the fuck off me, asshole!” but he doesn’t loosen his grip, instead making an attempt to cover my mouth like his friend did with Stiles.

As he succeeds in placing a hand over my mouth, I bite his finger instinctively. He immediately cries out in pain, and I taste something metallic. It takes a second to figure out it was blood. Ew.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a fire alarm. As the hunters drag Stiles and I past it, I manage to reach out enough to pull it, sending an alarm blaring throughout the building.

When we get to the cell area, the hunters drop us on the floor. Immediately, I move over to Stiles, who grabs me and pulls me behind him.

The deputy holding the box opens it, pulling out a syringe filled with wolfsbane. We follow his gaze to an open cell that I’m positive is supposed to be closed.

Suddenly, both hunters are thrown across the room, as Isaac comes out of nowhere. The one who grabbed me hits his head on the wall, hard, and falls to the ground, unconscious. The other is pushed up against the desk by a very Hulked-out Isaac Lahey.

As Isaac throws the hunter across the room, Stiles grabs me and shoves me behind the desk to hide behind. He keeps a protective grip on my shoulder as Isaac growls at the hunter, who is still trying to shoot him up with wolfsbane. 

Isaac grabs the hunter’s arm, breaking it and making him drop the syringe. Isaac grabs his head and shoves it into the wall, knocking him out.

Suddenly, Derek comes in and steps on the syringe, smashing it and causing the contents to leak out.

Isaac looks at Derek, then spots us behind the desk. I tense, ready to either run or fight, and Stiles tightens his grip on me.

Isaac takes a step in our direction but Derek, who has shifted himself, his eyes glowing their alpha-red color, steps between us, roaring.

Immediately, Isaac falls back, huddling against the wall and covering his face. He slowly lifts his gaze, and I see that he has shifted back to human.

I nod when Stiles looks back at me, letting him know I’m fine. I ask him the same question silently, and he nods back.

Stiles and I slowly stand up. “How did you do that?” Stiles asks Derek, who has shifted back to human as well.

“I'm the alpha,” Derek states simply.

Knowing Isaac can’t stay here, Derek takes Isaac out and away from the station.

After a few minutes, the fire alarm stops. Noah, Griffin, and a group of other deputies arrive at the scene. Noah and Griffin look from us to the passed out deputies on the ground to the open cell back to us, expecting an answer.

Stiles exchanges a look with me, then glances behind him to the open cell door, then points to the two unconscious hunters. “Uh, they did it.”